PRIME Fall 2022

Mindfulness

letter from the editors

Dear reader,

After a sleepy summer, campus is once again rumbling awake – and our team here at PRIME knows it. This quarter, writers and artists set out to uncover stories of awakening, no matter how big or how small.

These narratives take many different forms. Edin Madrid, a formerly incarcerated student, remembers the moment in which he committed to higher education. Now, he tells his story to PRIME in hopes of helping others with similar backgrounds follow his path. And at the UCLA Mindful Awareness Research Center, Diana Winston – the director of mindfulness education – aims to show students that mindfulness is only a few moments away. In PRIME’s latest Q&A, Winston shares how the wisdom she gained in her practice led her to where she is today.

Around campus, creative awakenings abound. Photographer Christine Kao visited the UCLA MakerSpace, home to a creative community crafting everything from Halloween costumes to bass guitars. By speaking to students and staff members, she captured the multitude of ways in which ideas can come to life.

At PRIME, we strive to bring untold and unheard stories to the forefront of the Daily Bruin’s coverage. Thank you for picking up a copy of our fall 2022 issue, and we hope you find these pieces as eye-opening as we do.

Megan Fu PRIME art director

Abigail Siatkowski PRIME director

Megan Tagami PRIME content editor

CONTENTS | FALL 2022

Q&A 6

Mindfulness matters

written by RACHEL ROTHSCHILD

Diana Winston is bringing mindfulness to UCLA one meditation session at a time.

CULTURE 12

More than a crush

written by ESTHER MYERS

Fandom is the first point of contact for many people discovering their queer identity. But when there are no queer main characters, finding meaning in subtext is necessary – and even joyful.

Making a mark

created by CHRISTINE KAO

Photographer Christine Kao took a trip to the fourth floor of Olympic Hall, where the UCLA MakerSpace teems with 3D printers, laser cutters and student creativity.

22

A second chance

written by MARTIN SEVCIK

Edin Madrid spent 14 years incarcerated. Now, he is set to graduate from the nation’s top public university – while also helping others follow in his footsteps.

PHOTO GALLERY

photographed by CHRISTINE KAO

CONTENTS | FALL 2022

CAMPUS 37

Keeping their plates full

written by ELLA KITT

This year has seen the opening of Epicuria at Ackerman and the return of De Neve Late Night. While the dining halls are nearly back in full force, the question remains: Who are the people who power UCLA’s everexpanding dining program?

HEALTH

27

Underappreciated and overrepresented

written by ALYSSA BARDUGON

Health care disparities are all too common in the Filipino community, but UCLA students and researchers are working to change that.

Curating tradition

written by ALEXA CYR

Now a decade old, “Made in L.A.” celebrates the eccentric, the abstract and the larger-than-life projects that define the city’s art scene.

PERSONAL CHRONICLE

42

Nontraditional

written by MITRA BEIGLARI

As she embarks on her final year as a Bruin, PRIME writer Mitra Beiglari reflects on her journey as a nontraditional student navigating UCLA.

Mindfulness matters

written by RACHEL ROTHSCHILD

designed by JULEY ARIAS

photographed by ETHAN MANAFI

For Diana Winston, practicing mindfulness is not much different than playing the piano. Although the two activities could not seem more different on the surface, they share certain qualities. Both require a person to practice over time in order to build their skillset, Winston explained.

Winston currently serves as the director of mindfulness education at the UCLA Mindful Awareness Research Center. She has been at UCLA since 2006, but her mindfulness journey stretches far beyond Westwood. Before coming to the university, she spent 10 years participating in meditation retreats across Southeast Asia, learning the history and traditions grounding her practice. She continues to share this knowledge in a global setting, training more than 500 mindfulness facilitators across the world and leading virtual retreats.

On a typical Thursday afternoon, Winston can be found teaching free drop-in meditation sessions over Zoom, held in collaboration with the Hammer Museum. The sessions regularly attract more than 150 people from across the country. Over the course of 30 minutes, Winston guides participants through a range of exercises, encouraging them to change their inner narrative to words of kindness. She reminds them that it is hard to generate kindness toward others when you are not feeling it yourself.

This fall, PRIME writer Rachel Rothschild spoke with Winston about her mindfulness journey. Read on to explore the benefits of mindfulness and how Winston is bringing the practice to UCLA.

The following Q&A has been edited for length and clarity.

PRIME: To begin, what is mindfulness?

Winston: I define mindfulness as paying attention to our

present moment experiences with openness, curiosity and willingness to be with that experience. It’s really about how do we stay in the present moment, not lost in the past, not lost in the future, which is what our minds typically do. When we do that, that leads to a lot of suffering – anxiety, grief, sadness, anger and self judgment. This is what happens when our minds are lost to the past or future. Mindfulness is a state of being in the present moment.

PRIME: What are the benefits of mindfulness for the general public? And then specifically for students?

Winston: There’s been a lot of scientific research into mindfulness. It’s still a young field, but in the last 30 years, they’ve been looking at mindfulness. What they’ve seen is that it’s helpful for physical health conditions that are related to stress. Things like, it boosts the immune system and helps with high blood pressure. It can help with the healing response. It can help reduce inflammation –stress-related physical conditions, that’s one.

The second is the area of mental health: anxiety and depression. There’s a lot of good research on how it helps people with chronic pain too. It can build attention, helping people to focus. There’s been research looking at people with ADD (ADHD). There’s been research looking at how it can improve test scores, even, because it teaches people how to focus.

Then there’s a whole set of research looking at many different things, like how mindfulness can impact altruism. People are kinder. It cultivates positive emotions that helps us work with more emotional balance. There’s even research looking at how it changes our brain. People who practice mindfulness over long periods of time –their brains are thicker in certain areas than people in the same age range, specifically the prefrontal cortex,

Mindfulness is a fantastic tool for support.”

the part like the CEO of our brain, responsible for executive functioning, delayed gratification, working memory, flexible thinking, all those things.

Why is this relevant to students? I am certainly aware of the statistics in the pandemic about the levels of increased mental health concerns, specifically anxiety, depression and eating disorders. Mindfulness is a fantastic tool for support. It’s not the only thing, and it would never be done to the exclusion of other things such as medication. But as an adjunct tool for working in mental health issues, it is enormous.

PRIME: How did you become interested in mindfulness? And then how did your journey lead you to work at UCLA?

Winston: After college, I was a little lost. I didn’t really know what I was doing with myself. I had spent a semester abroad in Thailand, and I ended up going back there. I hadn’t gotten into these types of practices, but I ended up going back there, and then I went to India, and I got exposed to Buddhist practice there. And I was in Dharamshala, and everybody was doing all this Buddhist meditation, and I was like, “What are they doing?” I was very skeptical, not interested at all.

In any case, I started meditating there, and it blew me away. I was just like, “This is amazing.” Then I went back to Thailand and did my first mindfulness retreat for 10 days in silence. It helped me understand so much about myself and helped me calm my mind, have more peace. I dealt with a lot of anxiety, and it helped me with my anxiety right away.

I then spent the next 10 years off and on doing meditation retreats. I would go, and I would waitress, so I could make money so I could go on my next retreat. Then at some point, I went to Myanmar,

It helped me understand so much about myself and helped me calm my mind.”

I was doing it because I was really fascinated by my mind.”

to live with my teacher because I had a Burmese teacher, and I spent a year as a Buddhist nun in his monastery. I had to shave my head. You could only eat in the afternoon, and you spent all day long meditating. It was an incredibly powerful experience for me. Also not easy but great and so useful.

When I came back, I was asked to teach, and I got trained to teach. Then I was teaching in Buddhist circles. But I was very clear that after a certain point, these teachings would benefit people not just in the Buddhist world, that anybody could benefit from them. Around that time was when I met (Professor emerita of psychiatry) Susan Smalley, and she was starting to build the (Mindful Awareness Research) Center. We realized we had a similar vision. So, she hired me to move to LA and start the program.

PRIME: If I heard you correctly, I think you said you spent, on one of the retreats, 10 days in silence?

Winston: In another retreat, I spent 365 days in silence.

PRIME: Wow, do you mind talking a bit more about that?

Winston: I did a lot of these retreats. These retreats

were silent retreats. Like I said, some were 10 days, some were 30 days, 90 days. Then ultimately, I did the one year. When you’re doing it, particularly when you’re doing it for a very long period of time, you know that it’s your life. You just get used to it, and you don’t talk. I would get up in the morning and meditate and then have breakfast, and then I’d do sitting meditation and walking meditation, alternating until lunch. Then sitting meditation, walking meditation the rest of the day because you weren’t allowed to have dinner – they don’t offer you dinner. It’s one of the rules of monasteries in that part of the world.

You would meet with a teacher every couple of days, and occasionally a teacher would give a lecture. … I was living in the forest in a little hut. There were snakes and spiders and scorpions, and I didn’t like the food. It was intense, and it was hot. I was dealing with the weather and loneliness.

But I was doing it because I was really fascinated by my mind. I knew it was impacting me positively. There’s a lot of ideology connected to it, that if you practice hard enough, you’ll reach a state of enlightenment, right? Then of course, what is enlightenment? In that

system, they have a very specific idea – enlightenment means that you begin to release greed, hatred, and confusion, delusion. That actually gets uprooted from your mind, and you no longer are greedy or hateful. That wasn’t my experience, that’s the ideal. But I was really driven by that vision. I was in my early 30s, and I thought that that was a beautiful, beautiful thing to do.

It was an incredible experience. It was so hard. There were so many times where I just kind of lost it and felt so lonely. There was a lot of suffering. But in the end, I feel so grateful that I did that year.

PRIME: How long should you practice mindfulness to see its benefits? And how often?

Winston: Scientists have not concluded something around this. It is hard to know. My experience is as consistent as possible, meaning if you can do it every day, great, because that’s how you build a skill. If you were trying to teach yourself piano, if you just did it one day and then two weeks later, you’re not going to learn to play the piano. You want to have that consistency. I start students with five minutes a day and then build them up to about 20 minutes. I think 20 minutes is realistic and doable for most people. But what you want to do is set the bar low because if you say, “Meditate for half an hour, an hour,” people won’t do it and forget it.

PRIME: What type of mindfulness or meditation practice would you recommend for busy students?

Winston: Mindfulness is not for everybody, I want to be very clear about that. Some people love it, some people don’t. It’s like anything – no medication works for everyone. If you’re interested in doing it, I recommend getting a daily practice and trying to do even just five minutes a day. And I do recommend our app, UCLA Mindful, which has five-minute and three-minute meditations as well as longer ones on there. Doing it with a guide is more helpful than if you were to say, “Just close your eyes and meditate,” because people need support, and they need instruction.

The second thing is that it’s hard to do. We are busy. What can we do? We can have these little moments of mindfulness throughout the day that help you come back to yourself – when you remember to take a breath, feel your feet on the ground, notice what you’re feeling inside. We offer this acronym called STOP. That stands for stop, take a breath, observe and proceed. Let’s say you’re feeling stressed, that you’re feeling like, “Oh, no, I have a test coming and I’m really stressed.” Okay, stop, take a breath and then observe, “What am I feeling inside? My heart’s racing,

my stomach is clenched.” Take a few more breaths, calm yourself down and be with what is and then proceed with more awareness. That takes under 10 seconds.

Those kinds of moments, like the research was saying, may impact our capacity to be mindful but will also help when we’re feeling anxious, when we’re feeling judgmental, when we’re feeling upset, angry, all of those things. Having these moments of mindfulness can really make a difference.

PRIME: What would you say to skeptics of mindfulness and its benefits? What about people who might say it’s boring, they think too much during it, or that they don’t have time for it?

Winston: For skeptics, I would say try it. If it doesn’t make sense to you or you don’t like it, then no problem. I don’t have any problem with people being skeptical of mindfulness.

One thing to know is a lot of people quit because they started to meditate, and their mind starts thinking and thinking, and then they’re like, “I can’t do this.” The thing to know is that that’s the normal part of it. When your attention wanders, it’s not a problem. You just notice it’s wandered, and you come back to the present moment. You just keep doing that over and over. Over time, it gets easier because you’re building the skill, right? You’re building, you’re creating new neural pathways. You’re building that ability to stay present.

Sometimes it can be a little boring, and sometimes it won’t be. But wouldn’t it be great to learn the skills of how to be present with boring instead of rushing to distract yourself every second? We have to have times of rest. We have to have times where our brain is not on continually.

One of the things mindfulness teaches us is the capacity to be with things that feel hard. It’s not just about making you feel peaceful. It’s also giving you tools to handle things that are difficult, like grief or anxiety or being bored.

PRIME: If you could tell students one thing about mindfulness, what would it be?

Winston: I would say mindfulness is not something you’ve never heard of or never done before. We’ve all had experiences of mindfulness, like when we’ve been out in nature and just felt really connected and present or when you’re in the zone in athletic activity or in artistic creativity. It’s part of being human. Mindfulness teaches us skills to get there rather than having these spontaneous moments. And it’s not far away from what you already know. ♦

Wouldn't it be great to learn the skills of how to be present with boring instead of rushing to distract yourself every second?”

MORE than a CRUSH

illustrated by DANIELLE NALANGAN

written by ESTHER MYERS designed by EMILY TANG & JUSTIN HUWE

You might not expect the crew of acapella singers in “Pitch Perfect” to have anything to do with queer identity. But characters Beca and Chloe’s undeniable chemistry played a big part in Daniela Shatzki’s lesbian awakening.

For Bruins AJ, Daniela and John, movies and television were an important fixture in understanding their queer identities – even as they navigated a media landscape dominated by straight, cisgender protagonists. Despite the lack of representation they faced growing up, they managed to find community both online and in person. While their favorite characters were never queer on paper, the world of fandom – where queer subtext was reimagined and celebrated – opened a gateway to self-discovery.

Here are their queer awakening stories, from falling in love with on-screen characters to real-life romances.

Name: AJ Sei

ProNouNs: they/them

Year/major: Second-year environmental science student

What to read Next: “The Priory of the Orange Tree”

by Samantha Shannon

AJ has a lot to say about their fictional crushes. Growing up, they were enamored with the redheaded protagonist Sam in the children’s show “Totally Spies!” and more recently, “Criminal Minds” special agent Emily Prentiss, who donned an impeccable pantsuit.

AJ is also also a self-described “pandemic gay,” realizing their lesbian identity over the months of lockdown. It was during the peak of the COVID-19 pandemic that they got closer to a childhood friend, exchanging letters and going on weekly walks.

“I don’t even know if it was a conscious crush, but I was like, ‘This is lovely,’” they said.

They still maintain the friendship, even though it remains just that. “She has a boyfriend,” they added with a laugh.

While they realized they were lesbian in high school, it was at UCLA that they started exploring their gender identity. When deciding between schools, AJ attended UCLA’s Pride Admit Weekend. They noted that the university was the only school they applied to that advertised a welcome event specifically for incoming

LGBTQ+ students. Even over Zoom, they quickly felt supported and accepted by the queer community.

“I was like, ‘Oh wow, I would have a big community if I came to UCLA,’” they said.

PAW was only the beginning for AJ, who returned as a volunteer the following year. Meeting people who were transgender across the gender spectrum kick-started their discovery of their nonbinary identity. Before starting college, they weren’t fully aware of the many ways people identified outside of the gender binary.

“All of this is a real possibility that I didn’t know before,” they said. “I was sitting and talking with all these people about their experiences. I was like, ‘Whoa, I have been there. OK, I need to rethink my life.’”

AJ has found a place in the LGBTQ+ community at UCLA, spending their Friday afternoons discussing their current media fixations at Queer Fandom Fanatics meetings. While they’ve found a vibrant queer community at UCLA, AJ first found a sense of belonging in online spaces.

“I saw myself represented in fan communities because I was very plugged into Tumblr. But actually on screen or in books? No,” they said.

AJ has since seen progress in the media, particularly in “Star Trek: Discovery,” a reboot of the 1960s series. The 2017 refresh now features a nonbinary character, Adira, as well as several other queer protagonists. The new cast of characters just makes sense to the “Star Trek” fan who grew up watching the original series with their sisters.

“Don’t tell me every other planet in the galaxy has two genders,” they said.

Even as AJ reflects on their queer awakening, they realize there is no end goal to figuring out their identity. Finding a label isn’t the end-all, beall to who they are, and they encourage other young queer people to take the pressure off of themselves, too.

“I saw myself represented in fan communities because I was very plugged into Tumblr. But actually on screen or in books? No.”

“If you want a label, awesome. If you don’t want one, awesome,” they said. “The community that you’ll find is worth everything else.”

Name: Daniela Shatzki

ProNouNs: she/they Year/major: Fourth-year psychobiology student

What to read Next: “Crier’s War” by Nina Varela

In middle school, Daniela Shatzki consumed a steady diet of detective shows. Watching the shows “Castle” and “Psych” made her think she wanted to be a detective, but she later realized that she was just attracted to the show’s assertive female leads. Kate Beckett and Juliet O’Hara were the crucibles of Daniela’s gay awakening.

Kate and Juliet are ostensibly straight. But for Daniela, many of the characters that shaped her lesbian awakening were not canonically queer – they were just lesbian icons in the fandom that surrounded them.

“(The shows are) not inherently representative, but I could make it work,” they said.

In particular, Daniela joined fan speculation around “Rizzoli & Isles,” which involved major theories about the show’s lesbian subtext between the two leads. The women were extremely close, and conveniently, never had longlasting relationships with men. Yet, interviews with the cast and directors emphasized the leads were straight.

“It was definitely queerbait, and I fell for it,” she said. She didn’t seem upset about it.

Today, Daniela has an easier time finding media that features explicitly queer characters. They recently watched “Killing Eve,” a hit thriller series following a special agent who becomes entangled with the assassin she’s tasked with

hunting down. But they wished this representation existed when they were growing up.

“If there was more options with gay people, it probably would have been different for me,” they said.

Although she experienced a lack of lesbian representation growing up, coming to UCLA introduced Daniela to a new queer community. By the time she started college, she knew she liked women but hadn’t started identifying as lesbian. It was meeting her girlfriend in her freshman year that cemented her certainty.

“At the time, I thought I was bi, but then the first time I kissed her, I was like, ‘No, I’m a lesbian,’” Daniela said assuredly.

Now in their fourth year at UCLA, Daniela is comfortable with the place they have found in the queer community. They encourage queer Bruins to fearlessly share their identity, whether through clothing, presentation or small markers of pride.

“Don’t be afraid to show it off,” they said, pointing to the lesbian flag pin on their backpack. “Just don’t be scared.”

Name: John Jacho

ProNouNs: they/them

Year/major: Third-year labor studies student

What to read Next: zines from the Queer Zine Archive Project

When asked about their queer awakening, John Jacho had one response: “Dragon Ball

John pined after Goku, the anime’s muscular and often shirtless main character. A particularly formative scene came during a final boss fight between Goku and the main villain

– as Goku goes “Super Saiyan,” he gains a glowing aura, his hair turns blonde and somehow, he seems to grow even more muscular.

John came out as gay in middle school –not long after their pivotal crush on Goku – but their understanding of their queer identity has been a continuous discovery. Growing up in a Latino household, they didn’t identify with the hypermasculinity they saw as a norm for the men in their life. Instead, they turned to online platforms such as Tumblr where they were introduced to queer communities. For John, being online at a young age played a crucial part in learning about gay and trans identities, which they missed out on in mainstream TV and movies.

Growing up, John said they would often take the straight characters they saw on screen and reimagine them as queer. Even with greater representation in the media today, they still find joy in discovering queer subtext in unlikely places, such as the song “Backstreets,” in which Bruce Springsteen sings mournfully after a person named Terry.

While John first came out as gay as a preteen, it was in high school that they started identifying as nonbinary. They’ve continued to explore their gender and find support in the queer community wherever they are. As a transfer student, the new friends they’ve made at UCLA have already impacted their gender awakening.

It was after seeing one of their friends start hormone replacement therapy that John realized it was a possibility for them too. Now, they’re awaiting their appointment for an HRT consultation at the Arthur Ashe Student Health and Wellness Center. Today, the word that feels right to John is genderfluid – but they’re not too worried about exact terms.

“Labels are so limiting, too,” they said. “I would tell queer people to not be concerned with labels. It’s just like, ‘Figure yourself out.’” ♦

“For John, being online at a young age played a crucial part in learning about gay and trans identities.”

MAK I NG A MARK

What do a bass guitar, a facial recognition lock and a Halloween costume have in common? All three projects have recently emerged from the MakerSpace, home to a creative community at UCLA.

written by CHRISTINE KAO

Colorful objects created at the MakerSpace decorate the site’s counter.

When Charles Melikidse first started his role as MakerSpace manager in 2018, the lab took up 900 square feet in Rieber Hall and provided free equipment, tools and workspaces for students. In the same year, the on-campus UCLA Samueli Makerspace took up residence in Boelter Hall.

In the fall of 2021, the MakerSpace relocated to the newly built Olympic Hall. The upgraded MakerSpace, spanning 3,000 square

feet, spreads into four sections: the 3D printing and laser cutting hub, the soft goods work area, the woodshop and metalworking zone and a general space for students. The site is one of four Learning Centers under UCLA Residential Life, which promote exploration by exposing students to different hands-on activities.

“The mission of the MakerSpace is to create a creative community that’s inclusive and welcoming to all UCLA students,” Melikidse said.

designed by DASHRIT PANDHER & EMILY TANG photographed by CHRISTINE KAO

Wearing safety goggles, Melikidse cuts a wooden stick into chunks.

Melikidse discovered his passion for hands-on building while studying product design at Otis College of Art and Design. But after entering his first job as a visual merchandiser, he realized many of his projects would be short-lived. He soon turned to exploring new materials and methods to create designs that can be sustainable.

Now entering his fourth year as the MakerSpace’s manager,

Melikidse said he never underestimates the lab’s importance to students. He recalled how a resident director once told him that a student initially considered dropping out after feeling lost at UCLA; however, they changed their mind upon meeting like-minded people at the MakerSpace.

“I think that has been the experience for a lot of students who come into the space,” Melikidse said. “It provides a community that I think is needed, and that’s super impactful in a student’s journey here.”

A 3D printer whirs and buzzes while building a model. 3D printing is one of the most popular services at MakerSpace, said Nathan Luk, a technician and fourthyear aerospace engineering student. The MakerSpace houses more than 10 3D printers, all of which are capable of turning digital files into physical objects. In the same space, three large laser cutters engrave or cut materials, such as wood and acrylics, using powerful laser beams.

In the 3D printing area, MakerSpace technician and third-year mathematics and physics student Kenny Bruinsslot operates a Form Wash to rinse excess resin from another student’s project.

For Bruinsslot, the possibilities of the MakerSpace are endless. Since becoming a technician in winter 2021, he has witnessed students create everything from a telescope using the 3D printer to photo frames engraved by the laser cutter. Bruinsslot himself spent much of his summer crafting a bass guitar for his friend – an interdisciplinary

project requiring his mastery of wood carving, 3D printing and wiring electronics.

As a technician, Bruinsslot said he regularly faces – and overcomes –the challenge of helping patrons bring their ideas to life. The experience is also a learning process for Bruinsslot, who has since enhanced his own understanding of how different equipment can be used.

“Any ideas that they have, they can bring to fruition here,” Bruinsslot said.

Stacked drawers store electronic components, such as sensors, potentiometers and resistors, which students often use to repair electronics, Melikidse said. The MakerSpace also provides circuit boards, allowing people to troubleshoot their electronics projects and enhance their skill sets.

Curren Mandon smiles as he holds an embroidered patch of Jake the Dog from the animated series “Adventure Time.” Mandon said he enjoys seeing people on campus donning the wardrobes he watches them create in the MakerSpace.

Mandon, a Makerspace technician and third-year preeducation student, transfers vinyl onto a white T-shirt using the heat press machine. The shirt, embellished with the American Red Cross sign and the word “lifeguard,” was a Halloween costume for Mandon’s roommate. A former engineering student, Mandon said the MakerSpace provides him with the hands-on opportunities he lacked in his STEM classes. Since beginning his work as a MakerSpace technician this summer, Mandon has met other creative

students who serve as sounding boards for his ideas.

“We run ideas by each other,” Mandon said. “It’s really fun to think of things that we can make in the space.”

As a technician, Mandon’s work ranges from preparing each machine to helping students use different equipment. He added that one of his favorite parts of the job is seeing others’ unexpected ideas, fondly recalling how he once helped a student build a facial recognition device to open their dorm room door.

Using the materials at the MakerSpace, second-year computational and systems biology student Satema López and first-year mechanical engineering student Chris Orr build a 3D-printed rocket model for Rocket Project, a team at UCLA that trains students in design techniques and hands-on projects related to building rockets.

López and Orr are not the only members of the Rocket Project who take advantage of the MakerSpace’s resources. First-year aerospace engineering student Doan Le picks up one of the rockets he built for for Engineering 96R: “Introduction to Engineering Design: Rockets,” a course required to enter Rocket Project. Le and his teammate are currently working toward creating a rocket that can maximize its launch height and overcome the limitations of a relatively weak motor.

Metallic remnants lay on a lathe, a machine that shapes metal workpieces and is often used for the creation of motor parts. Melikidse said the woodshop and metalworking zone, where the lathe is located, is a challenging area to operate. Using woodworking tools requires high levels of attention and safety knowledge, and students must also undergo more extensive training and supervision. Yet he added that the zone is often bustling at the start of the school year as students build pieces of furniture and decorations for their new dorms and apartments.

The ShopBot, a computer numerical control machine that cuts and engraves material, carves a wood board. Melikidse said that instead of simply accepting and processing digital files from students, the MakerSpace operates on a learning model, in which technicians help visitors acquire the skills needed to work the machines themselves.

The MakerSpace boasts three different types of computer numerical control machines alongside the ShopBot: the 5-axis

machine, the CNC mill and the CNC router. The CNC machines are controlled by preprogrammed software, rather than manual labor. They often manufacture products with high-accuracy needs, such as surgical tools and aircraft components. These devices support not only training tasks for student clubs, but also the passion projects of the UCLA community, including an aluminum-bodied guitar recently created by a visitor, Melikidse said.

Fourth-year chemistry/materials science student Argo Fair crochets a plastic yarn project. Fair, who also works as a technician and runs sewing workshops at the MakerSpace, is building a six-foot-tall plastic monstera plant by upcycling bags they and their roommates collected from grocery deliveries

throughout the pandemic. Although they originally focused on creating garments at the MakerSpace, Fair said they have become more comfortable working with wood since starting as a technician. With their newly acquired skills, they recently built a treeshaped bookshelf.

Visions for the MakerSpace’s future are scribbled on the site’s floor-to-ceiling windows. Technicians also record their ideas regarding potential workshops and projects on a paper box behind their counter. They meet weekly to discuss how to better serve the community and fulfill the MakerSpace’s mission of boosting students’ creativity, Mandon said.

Luk said the team’s beginner workshops have helped

engage students from all backgrounds, adding that he hopes more people discover that the MakerSpace is an inclusive space for all students at UCLA.

“We want to be a bigger presence for the community,” Luk said. “We want to make sure that everyone feels welcome at the space, and everyone wants to come in the space. We want to be somewhere where people hang out, learn from each other and really broaden their own creativity.”

A SECOND chance

written

MARTIN SEVCIK

From the moment I met him, I could tell why so many people are impressed by Edin Madrid.

The third-year sociology student casually leaned back in his seat. He spoke with his whole body – his shoulders swiveled, and his head bobbed side to side when he answered questions. But it didn’t feel like he was nervous. He spoke confidently and never second-guessed himself. For over an hour, I listened intently to his story, told with unexpected enthusiasm and sincerity.

Madrid told me he was part of a tightknit group of friends as a teenager. More than most, he felt as though his identity was intertwined with the people around him. As if to prove how much his friends meant to him, Madrid suddenly pulled back his shorts and showed me a black tattoo about the size of a baseball on his thigh. Thin strands of ink swirled around a name in ornate, delicate lettering.

“Right here on my leg, I’ve got my homeboy,” Madrid said. “He died when he was 16 years old. He got shot multiple times.”

Madrid grew up in Los Angeles’ gang culture. Before he even graduated high school, he was charged with six counts of attempted murder and sentenced to 14 years in prison. But now, he’s poised to graduate from the nation’s top public university in just a few years.

Formerly incarcerated students face an abundance of challenges in higher education, said Valeria Garcia, Bruin Underground Scholars program director. Besides the stigma surrounding incarceration, Garcia noted that these students often face employment barriers, inadequate mental health resources and housing insecurity. According to the Prison Policy Initiative, 29% of the general population has completed a college degree, but only 4% of formerly incareated people

by

photographed by KYLE KOTANCHEK designed by AMELIA WALKER

have done the same as of 2008.

And yet, Madrid has persevered. In order to understand how he arrived at UCLA, we had to start our conversation with his childhood.

Madrid’s family immigrated to the United States from the Guatemalan highlands when he was just 7 years old. The family settled in the MacArthur Park area, a heavily policed neighborhood in downtown LA.

LA did not treat Madrid well. Police officers kicked down his family’s front door twice in cases of mistaken identity. Constant state supervision, coupled with his immigrant status, made Madrid feel as though his innocence had been stolen. He spent his youth searching for an identity to latch onto and quickly realized he was not the only one feeling this way.

“I gravitated to the kids that had the same problems I did,” Madrid said. “And then we eventually just got sucked into the gang culture in LA.”

Madrid earned his first citation in seventh grade when he stole a CD player from a

classmate. His formal involvement with gangs began with tagging, in which he marked his gang’s territory using graffiti. Before long, Madrid turned his attention from soccer and art to drugs and weapons.

I asked him if he ever saw himself pursuing higher education as a kid. He immediately responded with an assertive “No.” To Madrid, high school was not a pathway to college. It was a war zone where rival gang members walked the halls, and he had to watch his back at all times.

“I correlated education with gangs,” Madrid said. “That’s not a place I want to be. That’s not an environment I want to be around. So I ditched.”

Before long, Madrid began engaging in turf wars and gang violence. He saw himself as part of a brotherhood of young men willing to die for each other. But this loyalty ultimately became his undoing.

At age 16, Madrid was charged with six counts of attempted murder. After a guilty verdict, he entered the carceral system, just like so many friends before him.

But Madrid got lucky.

“I got sentenced to 14 years, opposed to a lot of my friends who got sentenced to life sentences,”

Madrid said. “I got that second chance. I now had the possibility of coming home.”

Madrid said he almost squandered his chances. He earned punitive marks for insolence at juvenile hall and continued his involvement with gangs. Between these risky behaviors and his drug addiction, his future release was never guaranteed.

But at least initially, Madrid understood his unique opportunity. He spent his first few years of incarceration pursuing an education. With the encouragement of a volunteer at his juvenile detention center, Madrid received his GED at age 17 and began college after he entered an adult facility. Unfortunately, this first attempt ended when he was sent to solitary confinement.

As Madrid navigated the carceral system, he often sought guidance from advocates he met along the way. One such friend was Scott Budnick, a producer for “The Hangover” and the founder of the Anti-Recidivism Coalition, an advocacy group that offers support to incarcerated individuals and seeks prison reform.

“I felt like they were my family in prison,” Madrid said. “They’re the only people that have been inside the prison cells and have seen firsthand the things that I had to go through. They know who I really was.”

“I got that second chance. I now had the possibility of coming home.”

Budnick met Madrid in juvenile detention through InsideOUT Writers, a creative writing program for incarcerated youth. After reading Madrid’s writing that focused on his life story, Budnick said he immediately saw a charismatic, hyper-intelligent leader who just needed a push in the right direction.

Over the next 13 years, Budnick kept in touch with Madrid through phone calls, letters and visits to make sure he stayed on the right track during his incarceration. Budnick’s goals for Madrid were clear: Get sober and get educated.

“You could tell that he was ambitious,” Budnick said. “He just

had to turn all of those positive traits away from trying to accomplish something negative to try to accomplish something positive.”

Madrid felt that Budnick was instrumental to his success. In fact, the first thing Madrid mentioned about his incarceration – before I even asked my first question – was his long-standing friendship with Budnik.

Budnick reciprocates this admiration. While Madrid felt uncomfortable calling himself a role model during our interview, Budnick sees him as an undeniable inspiration.

“I don’t know how he did it, but he didn’t let any of that hold him back,” Budnick said. “He didn’t reduce his ambition or where he wanted his future to go. He just moved forward believing those things weren’t an issue, and I think that makes him an incredible mentor.”

Madrid enrolled at Imperial Valley College through a program for incarcerated students in 2018. But just as he began seriously reconsidering education, Madrid received unfortunate news. His stepfather, a man whom Madrid deeply respected, had passed away. When reflecting on his stepfather’s life, Madrid began to ponder his own journey: What was he going to do when he got out of prison?

Madrid strengthened his resolve to secure his future through education. Once he attended his first class in 2018, he never looked back. He earned his associate’s degree by the time he was released in early 2021.

As he navigated his new life, Madrid turned to community organizations for guidance. Eventually, Madrid found Homeboy Industries, an organization that supports formerly incarcerated or ganginvolved individuals. Once Madrid showed interest in applying to college, a mutual friend at Homeboy Industries connected him and Garcia, who supports formerly incarcerated students pursuing higher education through the Bruin Underground Scholars program.

Madrid was unfamiliar with the details of the college application process, a problem that many formerly incarcerated students face, Garcia said. She successfully helped Madrid review his transfer requirements and consolidate his transcripts into a complete application, which he sent to multiple colleges – including five of the 10 best public universities in the nation.

When Madrid told me he was admitted

“He didn’t reduce his ambition or where he wanted his future to go.”

everywhere he applied, I couldn’t help but utter a dumbfounded, “Congratulations.”

The good news did not end there. With help from Homeboy Industries, Madrid received a substantial scholarship. He added that this scholarship, along with other resources from Homeboy Industries, has helped to ease the financial burdens of attending UCLA.

He now wants others to have that same experience.

“There’s a lot of more young men who are going to ... come out of prisons at a young age, they’re going to want to come back to our campuses,” Madrid said. “I believe that we should offer them the same accessibility that anybody else is going to get, as long as they have the grades.”

Besides his work as a full-time student, Madrid also works with Homeboy Industries as an academic education assistant. Jose Ocampo, Madrid’s case manager at Homeboy Industries, said the organization created the position specifically for Madrid.

“The initiative, his drive and his willingness to help peers and his community – we really wanted to hone in on that,” Ocampo said. “We created this position so that he has an avenue to pursue his goals, which was helping his community.”

Madrid is the first point of contact for any participant seeking educational support, whether it be enrolling in GED programs or starting college applications. He is living proof that higher education is attainable, Ocampo added.

“He pushed for a lot of folks to give it a shot,” Ocampo said. “He broke a lot of barriers for folks who thought it

was impossible, and now he’s got a lot of folks enrolled in college.”

Madrid empathizes with the experiences of his peers and finds satisfaction in helping people reconstruct their lives after prison. He feels he is helping the next generation overcome the same challenges he faced. After graduation, he plans to continue this work, supporting the very neighborhoods he grew up in.

As Madrid shares his future aspirations, our interview runs late. At this point, we have given up our study room in Powell Library and are standing awkwardly on the steps outside. I have so many more questions – about his philosophy, his advocacy, his experiences – but I don’t have any more time. Instead, I ask him if there’s anything else he wants to share.

“My door is always open to teach somebody to follow the same path I did,” Madrid said. “You don’t have to follow me in a road that’s going to get you to prison. My road is now going to lead you to UCLA – or wherever you think you can go.”

I thank Madrid for his time. He walks down the steps of Powell Library, relaxed and nonchalant as he enters a sea of students in the shadow of Royce Hall.

I look down for a moment to check my phone. When I look back up, I can’t find him. He has blended into the crowd of students. As far as anyone can tell, he isn’t any different from the rest of them. ♦

“My road is now going to lead you to UCLA – or wherever you think you can go.”

UNDERAPPRECIATED AND OVERLOOKED

written by ALYSSA BARDUGON designed by JULIETTE LIU photographed by JENNY XU

When Cedric Bautista was a child, dengue fever hit his community in Eastern Samar, Philippines. The nearest hospital was a 45-minute drive away, and unpaved gravel roads made it nearly inaccessible. Bautista watched as his neighbors, family and friends fell ill with fevers and rashes, hoping someone with power would step in to help.

Now a fourth-year physiological science student at UCLA, Bautista continues to see barriers stopping the Filipino community from accessing health care, but, for the first time, he also understands the forces behind these obstacles.

“My perspective on health disparities shifted from ‘The government is very incompetent, why are they not doing enough?’ as a child, to ‘There are these -isms – capitalism, racism, neoliberalism, colonialism, imperialism – ingrained into our current systems and institutions,’” Bautista said.

In California, Filipinos make up the second-largest racial group in the nursing workforce. Yet, they often struggle to receive the care they need. The COVID-19 pandemic only exacerbated these disparities: The Filipino community makes up 20% of Asian adults in California, but 42% of the state’s COVID-19 deaths in the Asian community were Filipino patients.

For Ninez Ponce, eliminating health care disparities

starts with properly collecting data. In her role as director of the UCLA Center for Health Policy Research, she has dedicated herself to collecting data specific to Filipino communities.

“I think the most pressing issue is this juxtaposition of fairness of being and serving in frontline health care occupations, … but at the same time, (there’s) this invisibility of this population, as a racial-ethnic group, in statistics on health care access, health care views (and) health care quality,” Ponce said.

Finding the balance between presenting collected data and preserving respondents’ privacy can be difficult, Ponce explained. The most common solution is to aggregate the data – grouping it into categories distinct enough to notice trends but broad enough that individual responses are not revealed.

This does not come without real-life consequences. Aggregating data of Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders has historically erased the visibility of smaller ethnic groups, including Filipinos, Ponce said. Compared to other Asian communities, Filipinos are more likely to be diagnosed with diabetes, heart disease and hypertension. But when data is aggregated from specific ethnicities to Asian and Pacific Islander, this finding becomes hidden, Ponce explained.

“You can’t get at health equity until you get at ways where the populations you purport to represent and serve are with you in the data production process, in the knowledge generation process and in the interpretation of the insights,” Ponce said.

The problem, then, is that many don’t realize there is a problem at all. But the young professionals Ponce works with are determined to shed light on these disparities. Through writing papers, talking to the media and getting the word out in any way possible, Ponce sees a hopeful future in the world of data reform – a hope that is only possible with the younger generations’ drive to make a difference.

“Awareness is fueled by social movements,” Ponce said. “It’s fueled by advocacy, by students.”

Karen Madamba, president of Pilipinos for Community Health at UCLA, is one such student.

On a typical Saturday morning, Madamba can be found outside supermarkets in Historic Filipinotown and East Hollywood, providing free health screenings to shoppers. The prime location

Awareness is fueled by social movements. It’s fueled by advocacy, by students.

allows PCH volunteers to screen a large number of people without inconveniencing customers, explained Madamba, a fourth-year psychobiology student.

“A lot of folks talk about how fun our volunteers are because they have a blast on site every time,” Madamba said. “Volunteers are hopefully creating that welcoming space for them and encouraging them to get screened.”

Madamba joined PCH during her first year at UCLA. Attracted to the organization’s holistic view of health care, Madamba found PCH to be a departure from the competitive atmosphere of other health-related organizations. Now spearheading the operations at PCH, she aims to continue this focus on physical, mental and emotional health through the

organization’s projects.

At its pop-up health clinics, PCH provides multiple services, including blood pressure and body mass index screenings. These services can help lower the risk of hypertension, diabetes and other chronic health conditions common in the Filipino community, Madamba explained.

Bautista, who currently serves as PCH’s co-medical outreach director, emphasized the importance of creating safe spaces for the local community when working at these clinics. The key to this, he said, lies in culturally relevant care or tailoring medical services specifically to the communities targeted. For Madamba, culturally relevant care starts with seeing a patient as an individual, not just a statistic.

Courtesy of Ninez Ponce

Something as simple as understanding patients don’t always speak the same language as their health care providers is important when volunteering at PCH health clinics, she said. While Madamba might not be able to speak every patient’s first language, she can make their experience as comfortable and smooth as possible with humility and compassion.

“Access (to health care) is one issue. … But when you are in a hospital or clinic, there are difficulties with that interaction too.” Madamba said.

But language is an important aspect of health care accessibility, especially considering the amount of jargon used in medical appointments. Danielle Mangaliag – a third-year human biology and society student and co-medical outreach director of PCH – speaks Tagalog, a commonly used language in the Philippines. This enables her to communicate with a greater number of patients, both in the Los Angeles area and in the Philippines, where the organization goes on a mission trip each summer.

Mangaliag is originally from the Philippines but moved to the United States at a young age. When she began studying at UCLA, joining PCH felt like a way she could reconnect with her culture while also supporting the Filipino community. She noted how her relatives back in the Philippines struggled to access resources during the COVID-19 pandemic, with test kits priced around $100.

“They have to pay $100 for a test, whereas here (we) can just take it for free,” Mangaliag said. “And if not here on campus, we can also get free test kits from our insurance.”

Now in her third year at PCH, Mangaliag aims to ensure PCH has the resources it needs to continue its work even after she graduates. She feels lucky to be able to communicate with the Filipino communities PCH supports on its mission trips, both for the sake of the patients and the volunteers.

Despite the advances PCH has made the past few years, the organization’s work has not gone unscathed by the turmoil of the pandemic. It only further emphasized the importance of culturallyrelevant care, Madamba said. Many Filipino health care workers served on the frontlines at hospitals and assisted living facilities before returning home to multigenerational households, Ponce said. As a result, health care workers faced the constant fear of exposing their older family members to COVID-19, she added.

Yet, these struggles often went unrecognized. Although health care workers were eligible

Access (to health care) is one issue, right? But when you are in a hospital or clinic, there are difficulties with that interaction too.

for priority vaccinations, family members of health care workers were not. Because a large number of Filipino frontline workers live in multigenerational households, Ponce explained, their family members were more at risk.

“Given this historical legacy of labor Filipinos provided in the nation’s health care sector, there was underrepresentation in terms of policies like vaccination equity and vaccination priorities,” Ponce said.

However, Ponce explained, the exacerbation of health disparities in the Filipino community during the pandemic spurred greater activism surrounding health equity. Stories of Filipino health care workers who had died of COVID-19 circulated the Internet and raised awareness of the pandemic’s impact on the community, Ponce said.

Using this newfound exposure to its cause, Madamba wants to see PCH keep cultural humility as the foundation of its health care services. Instead of a top-down approach to health care, where health care providers work for their patients, Madamba and PCH focus on working with

the community. Building upon values of holistic health, humility and cultural understanding are top priorities for Madamba. Without these values, PCH wouldn’t be the organization it is today, she said.

“Service is grounded in humility and solidarity,” Madamba said. “We have a horizontal view of service. We are not working for the community, we are working alongside (them).”

Ponce doesn’t think the work of activists like the members of PCH will go unnoticed forever.

“At some point, policymakers are going to listen,” she said. ♦

We are not working for the community, we are working alongside (them).

Courtesy of Pilipinos for Community Health

Curating tradition

written by ALEXA CYR

designed by MIA TAVARES

photographed by JASON ZHU

Made in L.A.” is all about Los Angeles pride. The exhibition, organized by the Hammer Museum every two years, showcases commissioned work from emerging artists at the forefront of the LA art scene. The process of putting together each exhibition is time consuming, as the Hammer Museum must recruit curators to seek out the

2012

In 2012, Malik Gaines led the mission to define “Made in L.A.”

Gaines, a professor of visual arts at UC San Diego, served as one of the curators for the first edition of the exhibition. He said the biennial began as a collaboration between the Hammer Museum and LAXART, a nonprofit alternative art space in Hollywood. He and his fellow curators chose three words to encompass his vision of the city as a hub for the international art world: Made in L.A. This choice set the standard for exhibitions in the years to come.

Working alongside Anne Ellegood, Ali Subotnick, Lauri Firstenberg and Cesar Garcia, Gaines strived to encompass a diversity of artists. The resulting exhibition placed multimedia artist Zackary Drucker’s video featuring legendary transgender artists alongside artist and Yale professor Meleko Mokgosi’s mural depicting the complexities of postcolonial Africa. Gaines said having diversity between artists he had an interest in was important to him when cultivating the exhibition.

“For me, it was really about articulating the kind of interests I already had, finding a way to bring combinations together of people that I had

best paintings, videos and performances honoring the city. Since 2012, a new version of the show has debuted roughly every two years, with a different set of curators at the helm each time.

As the Hammer Museum prepares to celebrate the sixth edition of the city’s biennial in 2023, take a look back at the stories of exhibitions past.

already been interested in – people whose work I had been following, people who influenced me looking around Los Angeles,” he said.

Gaines said one of the most exciting aspects of “Made in L.A.” was the range of approaches from artists that came together to represent the city as an important location in the international art world.

“‘Made in L.A.’ has a festival quality that maybe you don’t experience with a traditional art exhibition or a survey of somebody’s work,” Gaines said. “You know, it has a little bit of a party.”

2014

Before Michael Holte received an offer to curate the 2014 edition of “Made in L.A.,” he was already familiar with the Hammer Museum’s tradition. But still, he never expected to curate an exhibition himself.

“Getting the invitation to curate the show came as a complete surprise,” Holte said.

Holte had actually attended the first “Made in L.A.” exhibit, and he wasn’t necessarily its biggest fan. In Artforum magazine, he wrote a critique of the show in which he questioned the necessity of another Southern California-focused art biennial.

Before the critique was published, Hammer Museum Director Ann Philbin offered Holte a curatorial position for the second edition of the Courtesy of Hammer Museum

Courtesy of Hammer Museum

“

It has a little bit of a party.”

“

2016

The process of creating the 2016 “Made in L.A.” exhibition was a 1,700-mile journey for Hamza Walker. While Walker resided in Chicago at the time, he spent months in LA in order to prepare for the exhibition. He fondly recalled his trips to the City of Angels.

“We (the curators) went into over 150 artists’ studios. That’s professionally what we live for,” he said. “And it was fabulous.”

In a break from tradition, Walker and his fellow curator Aram Moshayedi pulled from a smaller selection of artists to encourage viewers to engage more deeply with the work. Walker likened this method to creating a plated meal instead of a buffet. He wanted visitors to go home feeling satisfied from the artists they saw.

But still, the show drew on past exhibits for inspiration. Like its predecessors, the 2016 exhibit offered an array of unexpected and abstract pieces, including the work of Todd Gray, an artist who focuses on performance, photography and sculpture. Gray is a longtime friend of Ray Manzarek, the late keyboardist for The Doors. As the recipient of many of his handme-down items, Gray wore Manzarek’s old clothing around the exhibition space. The piece made for a touching memorial, Walker said.

“I have very fond memories of the exhibition,” Walker said. “It was such a wonderful time.”

2018

For MacKenzie Stevens, working on “Made in L.A.” is all about perspective.

As a curatorial assistant, and later associate, for the Hammer Museum, Stevens worked on both the 2016 and 2018 biennials. According to Stevens, the differences in each exhibit are largely due to the different perspectives

exhibit. Holte insisted she read the critique first. After she did, her offer still stood.

Although initially skeptical of the role “Made in L.A.” could play in Southern California’s art scene, Holte thrived off the creative flexibility afforded to him as a curator. However, the initial process was not without obstacles.

He initially joined the curatorial team with Karin Higa, who specialized in Asian American art. However, Higa dropped out of the exhibit after being diagnosed with cancer, and she later died in October 2013. Holte then found himself taking on the project by himself. He was eventually joined by Connie Butler – now the chief curator at the Hammer Museum – who served on the curatorial team at the Museum of Modern Art in New York at the time. To ensure the final version of the exhibition upheld Higa’s legacy, Holte included the artists she had selected while also incorporating Butler’s insight.

As part of the exhibit, they brought KCHUNG – a freeform radio station featuring local artists, painters and sculptors –from its studio in LA’s Chinatown to the Hammer Museum in Westwood. The station broadcasted original television programming from the Hammer Museum on the weekends during which the exhibition was open. Holte thought the endeavor was a fantastic way to interact with and shed light on emerging forms of modern art.

“Part of the joy of the show for me was using my newfound authority to give over to other people to make decisions about what would be in the show,” he said. “We wanted to represent some of the grassroots spirit of the Los Angeles art world in its community.”

of the selected curatorial teams. For 2018, this team included Anne Ellegood and Erin Christovale, with Stevens serving as a curatorial associate.

Stevens noted that one of her favorite parts of the “Made in L.A.” tradition is giving more visibility to local artists. She fondly recalled working with the late artist and feminist Luchita Hurtado, who painted abstract representations of the female form for the exhibit.

“We wanted to represent some of the grassroots spirit of the Los Angeles art world in its community.”

Courtesy of Hammer Museum

Courtesy of Hammer Museum

“That was definitely a real highlight,” Stevens said “Just getting to learn from her and learn about her work directly from her.”

Aiming to offer perspectives from all walks of life, the 2018 exhibition included artists ages 29 to 97. While working with emerging artists with less institutional experience proved to be challenging, Stevens said the process gave young professionals key opportunities to meet others in the field.

“It’s pretty amazing that there’s so much new work that’s in ‘Made in L.A.,’” she said. “That cannot be overstated because that’s a huge endeavor to produce.”

2020

After his pop culture commentary pieces were featured in their own Hammer Museum exhibit, Larry Johnson’s time for “Made in L.A.” finally came in 2020.

Johnson, an LA native and pop culture-focused artist, produced five billboards stationed around MacArthur Park for the fifth biennial as one of 30 featured artists. A strong critic of consumerism, Johnson is not one to shy away from controversial subject matters. But after receiving instructions from the billboard company that provided him with materials stating that he could not make his work overly politicized, Johnson had to get creative.

“Being instructed to not make such political work was an incentive to maneuver around that, to see what kind of politics I could insert into the work without being red-flagged by the billboard company,” he said.

“It’s pretty amazing that there’s so much new work that’s in ‘Made in L.A.’”

When commissioned after the 2018 exhibition, a global disease outbreak was not on Johnson’s radar. Yet Johnson ultimately drew inspiration from the COVID-19 pandemic, focusing his work on the unattainable human desire for companionship and the role of technology in a new world of isolation and quarantine.

The theme of isolation bled into his experience working with the Hammer Museum. Though the biennial was meant to take place in 2020, the pandemic caused it to be pushed back to 2021. Johnson recalled feeling detached from the Hammer Museum as he worked from home. Johnson said the collaborative process mostly ended after everyone agreed on his ideas, which led him to feel somewhat isolated. But still, Johnson found the experience to be worth it, as he was able to participate in such a beloved tradition.

Courtesy of Hammer Museum

Courtesy of Hammer Museum

Courtesy of Hammer Museum

2023

The biennial tradition will soon return to Westwood. In February, the Hammer Museum announced the newest curatorial team: Diana Nawi and Pablo José Ramírez. Nawi is an independent curator in the LA area, and Ramirez is a curator and art writer based in both London and Amsterdam.

Philbin said in a press release that the Hammer Museum’s survival throughout the COVID-19 pandemic has proven that it can stand the test of distance and differences. She now looks forward to the contributions Nawi and Ramírez will offer.

The two curators’ brainchild will debut in Westwood on Sept. 24. It might just be the experience of a lifetime – or rather, the past two years. ♦

Keeping their plates

full

written by ELLA KITT

designed by ARCHIE DATTA

photographed by JEREMY CHEN

Legend says that if the San Andreas Fault were to rupture tomorrow, the line for Rendezvous West would still be standing. Even before the dining halls open for lunch at 11 a.m., hungry undergraduates line up outside of Rende West – the Hill’s Chipotle-esque takeout restaurant – with dreams of acquiring their burrito bowls in under 45 minutes.

When you first make the pilgrimage to Rieber Court, the serving station seems a lifetime away. As you crawl forward, led on by the scent of al pastor, watching other students sashay by with white takeout boxes in hand, you feel you’ve transcended spacetime. But the wait is a small price to pay for the coveted treasures of Rende West.

Bruins rally together at the Rose Bowl for seasonal football games and howl en masse when the clock strikes midnight every finals week, but nothing quite elicits UCLA school spirit like dining hall food. Ranked first place nationally for its cuisine, UCLA Dining Services is one of the largest university dining programs in the country. The program’s sheer magnitude may help to bring in accolades, but its size is also a necessity. The dining team serves nearly 30,000 meals each day to students living on the Hill.

While UCLA’s dining program is a point of pride for many students, most have yet to consider the work that takes place behind the scenes just to keep the program running – let alone maintain its No. 1 ranking.

“I don’t think it’s something people think about. They just see the food, take it, eat it,” said Eman Almuti, a first-year psychobiology student.

In recent years, the university’s dining services have expanded rapidly. A new takeout location, The Drey, opened on the Hill last year, and Epicuria at Ackerman debuted this summer, allowing students to use their meal swipes on campus. Much to the happiness of nocturnal Bruins, De Neve Late Night made its long-awaited return this quarter after a pandemic hiatus.

A glance behind the scenes reveals the individuals who work together to preserve UCLA Dining’s title and raise the program to new heights. Operating largely out of sight, these people work around the clock to enhance students’ eating experiences.

At the foundation of the dining program is the food itself, and the man behind UCLA’s top-tier grub is none other than chef Joey Martin. In his role as senior executive chef, Martin oversees the culinary operations for

dining on the Hill and across campus. In person, Martin gives the impression of a man who’s always on the job. He arrived at our early morning interview having just come out of another meeting and had to leave to jump into another one right after. As he spoke, he sat deep in his chair, arms crossed, peering through heavy eyelids. Martin is no stranger to high-pressure work environments. Before coming to Westwood, he cooked for the likes of the Los Angeles Lakers and catered for the Grammy Awards. But, driven by a desire to impact students’ lives, he forfeited corporate bonuses and joined the nonprofit sector when he came to UCLA in 2016. With five children of his own, he’s eager to prove to the youth that food can be both healthy and delicious.

“This is kind of a test run,” Martin said. “How can I educate college students about eating habits and then try to translate that into making my kids not eat chicken fingers and mac and cheese?”

He grapples with this question every day. When crafting new dishes for the dining halls, Martin and the culinary team consider a variety of factors, ranging from the type of cuisine to the health benefits and cost of ingredients.

In the process of planning a vegan spaghetti bolognese for Epicuria, Martin and his team originally opted to use Impossible meat, a plant-based meat substitute. After a taste test and a reconfiguration of cost, the team revised the recipe to substitute the Impossible meat with eggplant – a bettertasting and less-expensive alternative.

“We got to save a little bit of money and nest egg that to spend somewhere else,” Martin said. “Also, I think we improved the dish by going to the eggplant.”

Like any other nonprofit, cost is always a consideration for UCLA Dining. Any money left over from student housing fees at the end of the year gets reinvested into the program, said Al Ferrone, senior director of food and beverage for UCLA Dining.

Ferrone, like Martin, made the jump from the private sector to the nonprofit world by coming to work at UCLA. He served as the regional director of operations for Interstate Hotels & Resorts until 2015, when he decided to dedicate his life to transforming college students’ eating habits.

As a supervisor, Ferrone is informal and no-nonsense. He emphasizes that he often keeps his office door ajar so anyone can walk in. The first thing he does everyday is hit

the gym so he’s ready to tackle a long day of meetings, tastings and financial planning.

“Providing the restaurant-quality food that we do here every day, that’s exciting – that we take the word institutional out of our institutional feeding,” Ferrone said. “I just want to have great food here, and that’s what really drives me.”

High-quality, cost-effective meals form half of the UCLA Dining experience, but the other half lies in the eating experience.

While waiting for their food, students will often provide feedback about their dining experience by texting a number advertised at multiple locations on the Hill. A TV monitor announces “Dine and Dish” in flashy lettering, and students do as the screen commands. Slouching under the weight of their JanSports and impending homework assignments, these young minds produce poeticisms like “burt (burrito) good,” which appear on screen along with a response from an unidentified figure who signs off as Charles.

Day in and day out, Charles responds to the jumble of musings the student body slings his way. These responses are invariably formal, in contrast to the casual nature of students’ texts. One may receive “I do concur” or “your feedback will be shared with the chefs” in response to the assertion that “these sandwiches r bussin.” While many find this chat feature amusing, Charles is a prime example of the elbow grease that produces the glossy exterior of UCLA Dining.

As it turns out, Charles is a very real person. His full name is Charles Wilcots, and he’s the associate director of UCLA Dining. In this role, he oversees daily operations and helps plan

“

I don’t think it’s something people think about. They just see the food, take it, eat it.

Wilcots is mild-mannered and prone to humility. He immediately swats away questions about his identity as a campus celebrity. He said he originally began responding to students in 2020 through Dine and Dish to help alleviate employees’ stress in the face of staffing shortages.

“I wanted to pull something away from the team, so they can focus on providing great service with what limited resources they have,” Wilcots said. “I like to stay focused and see what’s going on in the locations as well, and that’s (Dine and Dish is) a good way for me to keep abreast of what’s happening with not being in the locations day in and day out.”

The purpose of Dine and Dish is to streamline communication between students and dining management so staff can quickly target problems and respond to student demands, Wilcots said. Additionally, Wilcots and his team gather feedback by attending weekly meetings with student representatives and conducting quarterly polls. The dining team then uses this crowdsourced information to enhance its methods of operation. In the pursuit of growth, the management

team is quick to take on new ventures.

Wilcots said he has seen the dining halls change dramatically since he first arrived at the Hill 25 years ago. While UCLA initially had standard dining halls that all served similar dishes, the dining team has since created themed – or “destination” – dining locations. Now, students can stop by Epicuria if they are in the mood for Mediterranean cuisine or walk down to Bruin Plate to satisfy their cravings for whole grain French toast.

Dishes cycle through the major dining halls every three to four weeks, so the menus are constantly changing. Nevertheless, in order to bring excitement to students’ lives and celebrate different kinds of food, Dining management began periodically hosting special dinners at different dining halls. Crowds of students line up for these meals, forming lines reminiscent of the ones wrapping around Pauley Pavilion during basketball season.

Some of the themed dinners incorporate a certain food item into every dish, such as the legendary Garlic Fest at B Plate. Others will revolve around a type of cuisine. Last year, the Old School Italian night at Epicuria was a major

“We take the word institutional out of our institutional feeding.”

for the future of the school’s dining program.

success among students on the Hill. Despite the dinner’s popularity, the culinary team expressed hesitation when asked to repeat the theme. The chefs wanted to focus on more innovative foods, but Martin urged them to appease the masses.

“My chefs didn’t want to do it again, but I said, ‘You have to do the Old School Italian again this year!’” Martin said. “So I think that’s on the docket.”

The dining team continually works to ensure student satisfaction, but the pressure to constantly operate at a top-grade caliber can be difficult to manage.

“My favorite is when these athletes get paid millions of dollars to perform. And they come, they have a bad day, and they’re sitting in the locker room saying, ‘I just had an off day,’” Martin said. “We have an off day, we get people sick, we get complaints, ... so we can’t have off days like that. We have to be on our game every single day.”

The incentive to perform comes from students and university officials alike. Ferrone said Chancellor Gene Block has even frequented the Hill and enjoys lunching with students because of the high quality of the food.

“The difference between us and the other schools is nothing more than people and talent,” Ferrone said. “They buy the same tomatoes, they buy the same lettuces, they get the same meats and all that stuff. The question is: Do you know what to do with it?”

Ferrone added that competition is a significant motivator for the dining team.

“It’s like Avis and Hertz. Who wants to be No. 2, right?” said Ferrone.

And Wilcots and Martin are ready to throw down the gauntlet.

“We want world domination,” Wilcots said.

“Stay tuned,” Martin added with a laugh ♦

We can’t have off days like that. We have to be on our game every single day.

Nontr Nontr

aditional aditional

Idropped out of high school when I was 16.

I sat on my bed, filling out the small withdrawal form on top of my algebra textbook. I was fed up with everything around me, and I wanted a way out. As I signed my name at the bottom of the page, I felt a wave of relief wash over me, even as anxiety for my future loomed.

Yet any doubts I had were not enough to change my mind. I mailed in the form, and it was official. I was a high school dropout.

Despite my choice, I eventually ended up as a double Bruin – once for my undergraduate degree and again as a current student in the master of public policy program. But as a nontraditional student, my time at UCLA has not been easy.

I am not alone in my identity. Thirty percent of UCLA’s student population is considered nontraditional, according to the NonTraditional Student Network, UCLA’s student organization that advocates and provides resources to nontraditional students. The definitions of a “nontraditional student” are as varied and broad as the individuals themselves. Students who received a GED, are over 25, have delayed enrollment in higher education or are caregivers all fall under this umbrella along with many others.

A few years after I dropped out of high school, I moved from Minneapolis to Los Angeles to be closer to my family. I made the move knowing I was ready to return to school and hopeful I could fulfill my longtime goal of attending UCLA. When I saw Santa Monica College was a top school for UCLA transfer applicants, I quickly enrolled.

Yet, I wasn’t prepared for the challenges of community college. In my first semester, I received a C in English –one of my best classes in high school. I soon came to the bitter conclusion that I needed to work harder than my peers to succeed. I tutored myself using Khan Academy

and easily surpassed my classmates in the time I spent studying for exams.

My grandpa, who never had the chance to go to college, was one of my biggest and loudest supporters throughout it all. As I would study, he would bring me snacks and, most importantly, words of encouragement.

“You will be successful. Keep studying hard,” he reminded me.

A few years later, I found myself sobbing into his chest after I learned I was accepted into UCLA. It was also one of the few times I have seen him cry.

I was immensely relieved. While I took pride in receiving admission to a top school, getting into UCLA was about putting my past behind me and making a childhood dream come true. As I excitedly prepared to come to Westwood, I didn’t even consider how my nontraditional status would affect my daily life as a student.

In some regards, I was like any other incoming student. I was mesmerized by the high ceilings of Powell Library and loved the dining hall food I tried during orientation. And, like my peers, I initially struggled with the fastpaced quarter system and rigorous course load.

I also faced peers and professors who didn’t believe in my ability to succeed – simply because I was a nontraditional student.

At the beginning of my first quarter, one of my professors made an offhanded comment about the SAT as he discussed standard deviation and variance in an upper-division statistics class.

“You all took the SAT, so you should know this,” he said.

Half the class remained silent, and he quickly noticed.

“You all did take the SAT, right?” he asked. “You are at UCLA for a reason.”

My face flushed as anxiety shot through my body. I had never taken standardized exams for college admissions, and I quickly began to doubt myself. Did I deserve to be in the classroom, surrounded by other students who had taken the SAT?

Impostor syndrome. I had heard of the term before, but I couldn’t connect with it until then.

A few weeks later, I took a midterm for the same statistics class. After the exam, a few of my classmates and I walked back to the Hill. As we commiserated about the difficulty of the material, I mentioned I was a transfer student. I was unprepared for the unwarranted comment that came my way.

“Oh wow, then this must be extremely hard for you,” one student said.

I went silent. I began to believe there was something

I didn’t even consider how my nontraditional status would affect my daily life as a student.

different about me – that I was less capable than the rest of my classmates. In short, I felt like I didn’t belong.

My heart sank even further when I checked the distribution of exam grades in my dorm. My D+ fell far below the class average. At that moment, the dreams of success I had carried with me to LA seemed out of reach.

Halfway through the quarter, I had reached my breaking point. One night in Powell Library, I began researching schools I could transfer to, hoping other universities could offer me the happiness I could not seem to find at UCLA. But as I began to fill out applications, my friend took notice.

“You want to leave UCLA because of one bad quarter?” they loudly whispered. “No, you are staying.”

In the moment, a wave of anger washed over my body. How could my friend possibly understand what I was going through? But in retrospect, I realize they saved me from a decision born out of fear and frustration. As I faced the remaining weeks of fall quarter, I fervently hoped there were better times ahead.

When my second round of midterms arrived, I felt more prepared. After my last exam, I visited Ackerman Union to purchase my first UCLA item, which I hoped would provide me some sense of belonging.

As I perused the UCLA hoodies, I ran into a family with a daughter who dreamed of attending UCLA. In response to her parents’ questions about the admissions process, I shared everything I wished I had done differently: more extracurriculars, rigorous internships and volunteer work that showed off my passions. In return, the family offered me words of encouragement, telling me they were certain I would excel in whatever I wanted to do. When her kids had picked out their gear, the mom turned to me and looked at the hoodie that had caught my eye.

“Did you get what you wanted?” she said.

I froze in disbelief. I told her it was OK, that her family owed me nothing.

But she insisted. “No, I want to do this for you,” she said. “All I ask is that if one day you are in the position to do this for someone else, please do it.”

That family bought my first UCLA item – a blue fleece hoodie with “UCLA” stitched in gold. It hangs in my closet to this day.

I walked out of the store finally feeling at home on campus. Not because of the hoodie I wore but because I realized I was surrounded by supporters I didn’t even know.

After my first year, I earned better grades and adjusted to the quarter system. On the day of my graduation, I felt like I had finally succeeded, and I wholeheartedly joined my class in cheers as we made our way into Pauley Pavilion.

But I never thought I would return. As much as I appreciated the opportunity to attend UCLA, I didn’t want to experience it again.

Following graduation, I became a part-time caregiver for my grandpa. Near the end of my first year at UCLA, he had been hit by a car and sustained severe injuries. When he was also diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease, I reevaluated my original plans to attend law school, knowing it would not provide me the time I needed to care for my family.

But I still wanted to continue my education. I began researching master’s programs and discovered the master of public policy program at UCLA. It was two years long, included classes related to law and had a curriculum that built on my academic strengths. It felt like the perfect fit – except for the fact that I would have to brave UCLA once more.

In March 2021, I opened yet another acceptance letter from UCLA. This time, it was not a joyous experience. I instead felt an overwhelming pressure to “redo” my undergraduate career, taking the lessons I had previously learned and using them to excel.

I started graduate school at an already challenging time. Many of my classes were online at the start of fall 2021, and the prolonged screen time triggered migraines. As their frequency increased, I forced myself to study through the pain.

To complicate things more, I was still a caregiver. Despite my own struggles with online instruction, I needed to stay at home as much as possible to avoid

spreading COVID-19 to my high-risk grandpa. I ended up advocating for hybrid learning options – a stance that drew support from some of my peers and condescending comments from others. As I heard remarks that I should have gone to an online school, I wondered how others could question my place at UCLA without knowing my story.

The pressure I put on myself to succeed quickly took its toll. Rarely did a day go by in which I didn’t face a migraine, and I began to obsess over my grades. I found myself wondering, what was I trying to prove?

To some extent, I was doing it for my family. I hadn’t forgiven myself for the pain I inflicted upon them with my decision to drop out of high school, and I wanted so desperately for them to be proud of me.

But ultimately, I was still trying to prove myself worthy of being at UCLA. When I finally achieved everything I wanted as a graduate student – straight A’s, multiple extracurriculars and prestigious internships – my accomplishments still left me wanting more. I finally realized what I wanted was to fix the past, but I couldn’t change a decision I had made when I was 16 years old, no matter how hard I tried. All I could do was move forward. I knew my final year at UCLA would have to be different if I truly wanted to find peace.

As I enter my final months as a student, I am forever grateful to those who have reminded me that I am not alone, including my parents who have continuously

I realized I was surrounded by supporters I didn’t even know.

Abigail Siatkowski [PRIME director]

Megan Tagami [PRIME content editor]

Megan Fu [PRIME art director]

Rachel Rothschild, Esther Myers, Christine Kao, Martin Sevcik, Alyssa Bardugon, Alexa Cyr, Ella Kitt, Mitra Beiglari [writers]

Anika Chakrabarti [photo editor]

Jeremy Chen, Joseph Jimenez, Megan Cai [assistant photo editors]

Ethan Manafi, Christine Kao, Kyle Kotanchek, Jenny Xu, Jason Zhu, Jeremy Chen [photographers]

Isabella Lee [illustrations director]

Danielle Nalangan, Lucy Chang, Megan Fu [illustrators]

Maya O’Kelly [design director]

Emily Tang, Helen Quach, Tyler Cho [assistant design directors]

Juley Arias, Emily Tang, Justin Huwe, Dashrit Pandher, Amelia Walker, Juliette Liu, Mia Tavares, Archie Datta, Tara Desai [designers]

Isabelle Friedman [copy chief]

Ramona Mukherji [assitant copy chief]

Alexander Berry, Antonio Bayucan, Caroline Meisel, Ella Messing

Ethan Keshishian, Kimmy Rice, Natalie Agnew, Shreya Dodballapur [slot editors]

Elaine Lin, Kaylyn Phan, Tracy Zhao, Jiahe Yan [online editors] Richard Yang [PRIME website creator]

Breanna Diaz, Justin Huwe, Kate Green, Martin Sevcik, Rania Soetirto, Zinnia Finn [PRIME staff]

Alexa Cyr, Alicia Carhee, Alyssa Bardugon, Carlos Ramirez, Devon Whalen, Dylan Tzung, Emily Kim, Esther Myers, Iman Baber, Katy Nicholas, Keira Feng, Layth Handoush, Mallory Cooper, Mitra Beiglari, Natalie Tabibian, Rachel Rothschild, Sarah Choudhary, Tea Shulga [PRIME contributors]

Victoria Li [editor in chief]

Olivia Simons [managing editor]

David Rimer [digital managing editor]

Jeremy Wildman [business manager]

Abigail Goldman [editorial advisor]

The Daily Bruin (ISSN 1080-5060) is published and copyrighted by the ASUCLA Communications Board. All rights are reserved. Reprinting of any material in this publication without the written permission of the Communications Board is strictly prohibited. The ASUCLA Communications Board fully supports the University of California’s policy on non-discrimination. The student media reserve the right to reject or modify advertising whose content discriminates on the basis of ancestry, color, national origin, race, religion, disability, age, sex or sexual orientation. The ASUCLA Communications Board has a media grievance procedure for resolving complaints against any of its publications. For a copy of the complete procedure, contact the publications office at 118 Kerckhoff Hall. All inserts that are printed in the Daily Bruin are independently paid publications and do not reflect the views of the Editorial Board or the staff.

To request a reprint of any photo appearing in the Daily Bruin, contact the photo desk at 310-825-2828 or email photo@dailybruin.com.