prime Winter Issue 2017 by Daily Bruin

CULTURE

Student and professor work to better life for the formally incarcerated

ART

Dancers reflect on societal expectations

WINTER 2017

LIFESTYLE

Discover the landmarks of Echo Park

uncovering

identity This quarter, prime explores identity and how it varies among different people at UCLA. Take a look insde to read their stories.

@dailybruinprime | WINTER 2017

BY THE DAILY BRUIN

24 30

art 6 12 16

embrace the label yo soy quien soy introspection

culture 24 28

unveiled the importance of letter writing free & fighting

lifestyle

40 44 46

city guide: echo park DIY: doughnut coasters recipe: nanaimo bars

12 COVER PHOTO BY AUSTIN YU

Bruin Health Pharmacy

COMING FALL 2016 Ackerman

Union

New, Expanded Space More Convenient Location Same, Personalized Care

Visit us online for FAQs, hours, and info on our new location:

http://www.studenthealth.ucla.edu/pharmacy

Dear readers, Thank you for picking up prime’s first issue of 2017. The start of the new year has brought many changes – the United States has a new president, the sunny Los Angeles climate includes rainy days and the Daily Bruin office is now slightly smaller. With these changes come new stories and opportunities to reflect on past experiences and assess personal identities. The stories in the following pages show the different worlds and perspectives of people at UCLA. We get a taste of the ongoing struggles faced by people who were formerly incarcerated and the changes they strive to make. We show how one uses art to explain the LGBTQ community to those who may not understand it. We uncover the thoughts that lie beneath a Muslim student’s hijab. We watch dancers explore beauty standards and internal emotions through choreography and read a testament to the almost-lost art of letter writing. Additionally – not forgetting prime’s own traditions – we give you the tips needed to make a chocolatey dessert native to Vancouver Island and explore Echo Park, a small piece of LA’s geographic identity. Though you may not identify personally with the stories we tell, we hope they give you new insight into our diverse and changing world. With love, Hayley McAvoy

Maryrose Kulick

Hayley McAvoy [ prime editor ] Maryrose Kulick [ prime content editor ] Youngjun Park [ prime art director ] [ writers ] Umbreen Ali, Jasmine Aquino, Lindsay Bribiescas, Adrija Chakrabarty, Hayley McAvoy, Mackenzie Possee, Isabelle Roy, Angie Wang, Aubrey Yeo [ photographers ] Miriam Bribiesca, Hannah Burnnet, Maryrose Kulick, Erin Rice, Angie Wang, Aubrey Yeo, Austin Yu [ illustrators ] Jesse Wang [ graphic artists ] Maggie Shi [ designers ] Umbreen Ali, Emaan Baqai, Megan Le, Edward Qiao, Isabelle Roy, Michael Zhang Derek Yen [ copy chief ] Hannah Brezack [ assistant copy chief ] [ slot editors ] Anna Floersch, Kristen Hardy, Nikki Harris, Katie Kong, Sang Ho Lee, Alexis Lim, Simran Vatsa Howard Huang [ online editor ] Paulina Lei [ assistant online editor ] Chang Liu [ stack editor ]

Youngjun Park

[ daily bruin ] Tanner Walters [ editor in chief ] Anjishnu Das [ managing editor ] Emaan Baqai [ digital managing editor ] Jeremy Wildman [ business manager ] [ assistant managers ] Caroline Dillon, Peyton Sherwood [ advertising sales ] Sarah Sanders, Jessica Behmanesh, Danielle Renteria, Danielle Merrihew, Ali Cazel, Liviya James, Michaela Milesi, Michael Hess [ classified sales ] Lucy Mullin, Lizzie Ioannou [ production ] Tori Smith, Jimmer Young Abigail Goldman [ editorial adviser ] 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 310-8252828 or email photo@dailybruin.com.

@dailybruinprime | WINTER 2017

is pleased to announce the new

letter from the editors

EMBRACE THE LABEL

ariel mengistu

WRITTEN & PHOTOGRAPHED BY

AUBREY YEO

rom cartoon characters to medleys of animal and floral prints, I love everything about Jeremy Scott’s bold, colorful designs. But my favorite article of Moschino clothing unexpectedly doesn’t have any of its creative director’s signature prints on it. The main feature of that black quilted cap is just the word “Moschino” in gold block letters above the lid. It’s simple, but I knew I was smitten once I saw the hat atop Rita Ora’s head in her music video for “I Will Never Let You Down.” I might have been a victim of clever and effective product placement, but that golden label gave me exactly what I needed to Google the cap and have it shipped to me in three to four business days. Whether it’s signature patterns, logos or just the name of the brand spelled out, fashion houses have found a way to incorporate designs that are unmistakably theirs. These recognizable elements have also found their way onto college campuses through students’ monogrammed backpacks or logo-decorated shoes.

FIRST-YEAR UNDECLARED SOCIAL SCIENCES STUDENT

@dailybruinprime | WINTER 2017

ART

“

I didn’t know much about the shoes until I saw my friends wearing them, and they told me more about the collaboration with Converse. I looked more into them and I visited New York this summer, so I got to see the (Comme des Garçons) boutique and learn more about the brand.”

regitze dalsgaard zdravkovic FIRST-YEAR HUMAN BIOLOGY AND SOCIETY STUDENT

CLASSIC EUROPEAN BRANDS LOOK NICE

WITH EVERYTHING.

amir zimmerman

“

I’ve always thought the classic European brands look very nice, and they look nice with everything – I can use this with whatever outfit I wear. I got it three years ago and I pretty much use it every day, and it still looks nice and new.”

FIFTH-YEAR WORLD ARTS AND CULTURES STUDENT

“

One of the first times I saw MCM was on this artist named Taz Arnold a couple years ago when I was in high school, and I always loved the brand. My girlfriend at the time, she had an MCM wallet and I just really digged the pattern, and when I came to college I saw it everywhere and I wanted one too. I started off with a cognac one, and I just got this black one.”

“I THINK IT’S

VERY APPEALING AND ALSO EXTREMELY

ART

RECOGNIZABLE.”

@dailybruinprime | WINTER 2017

YO soy

quien soy WRITTEN BY JASMINE AQUINO PHOTOS BY AUBREY YEO a eres mujer. You’re now a woman, my mother explained to me after I told her I got my first period. In my 22 years of living, my parents have trained me for my future: I am to be a mother who can cook and clean and remain pristine for my husband. I am to remain a pure virgin. Remain ladylike. But I am queer. As a feminist and closeted bisexual daughter of traditional Mexican parents, me quedo terca. I remain stubborn in my effort to better my relationship with my parents. My parents grew up on small ranches in Mexico. They raised cattle and chickens and grew corn to make bread and tortillas. The life they knew was simplified to homemaking and cleaning for the women, and paid manual labor for the men until they each met a partner to have their children with. This did not leave much room for ways of life beyond their patriarchal and heteronormative

culture. My parents did not study past the sixth grade. They never went to a university to learn about the things they do not know, and they did not have the opportunity to socialize with the diverse set of individuals that colleges bring together. But as I interact more with the LGBTQ community, I find it increasingly difficult to engage with them. For instance, I have a gender nonbinary friend who prefers to be referred to by the pronouns “they,” “them” and “their.” However, there is no equivalent translation for me to use when introducing my friend to my Spanish-speaking parents. Fortunately, I have come to realize that talking about gender and sexuality can be done with a shared commonality: art. Art is a universal language, but the ways in which you read it can be very much up to interpretation. This is why I decided to use the “queering” perspective, which involves looking at things through a lens of sexuality and gender.

@dailybruinprime | WINTER 2017

{

}

“As a feminist and closeted bisexual daughter of traditional Mexican parents, me quedo terca.”

When my parents come visit me at UCLA, we take walks on campus. Sometimes we find our way inside the buildings. In Kerckhoff Hall, it doesn’t take more than 20 steps to come across the artwork of undergraduate and graduate students displayed on walls that span back decades in UCLA’s history. One particular painting, titled “Purple and Green” by an undergraduate student, hangs across the wall from the Graduate Students Association office and depicts four figures. Two of them, a dyad of purple and green, are facing each other and seem physically engaged. In this painting, my parents and I alike are able to determine the figures as normal humans interacting in couples. But something else stands out: One couple is beige and brown, while the other couple is green and purple. Besides these few details, the painting is otherwise less elaborate. The background is blank, the figures have no hair and they are neither clearly male nor female. This draws to my mind the parallels with the LGBTQ community: One the outside we are all the same, on the inside we just deviate a little from what is common. This piece of art allows for my queering eye to start a conversation with my parents about sexuality to someday help me explain to them that while I am attracted to both men and women, I am still the same daughter they raised.

The artists: Barbara Kruger and Frances Stark Heading south from UCLA and east on Wilshire Boulevard, we visited the Hammer Museum and the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, both of which have featured art I have been able to queer into my relationship with my parents. Barbara Kruger, a conceptual artist known for her image and text pieces and a professor in the UCLA art department, produces art on topics of societal hierarchy, identity and sexuality. The Broad Contemporary Art Museum building at LACMA features a large word collage on the big red elevator with Kruger’s work: “lipstick, cars, shop, hand bag...” These words give me an opportunity to start another conversation. My parents speak very little English and can read even less of it, but they can see the words staring back at them in a big, white font. They ask me to translate the script for them and therefore allow me to share my interpretation, along with subtle societal criticisms. “Lipstick” es una barra de labios, I tell my mother. I explain to her that the artist put careful attention on the object and what implications it holds in my parents’ and my shared society here in the United States: how the lipstick, when taken out of the context of a gender binary, becomes genderless. I tell her that I made a friend in college who identifies as a man and likes to wear makeup. Growing up, my parents trained me to fit into a box labeled “woman” and threw in other things I apparently needed: makeup, cooking skills, the proper information needed to use a washer or dryer and how to get stains out of our living room carpet. Skills that are based on the assumption that having them would enable me to provide for my future husband and family, never allowing the possibility that he could someday cook for me too – or that I might not even marry a man. My parents did this to both me and my younger sister. My parents also had two boys, each raised in their own boxes labeled “man,” ensuring they knew how to complete yard work and change a car tire. My parents did not allow these items to get into the wrong boxes. Or white labels to be green and purple. But standing in front of Kruger’s work, we are able to openly discuss what a “car” is and what implications it

“

has: When I am babysitting my nephew – their grandson – they now understand that while cars are cool, dolls are also an acceptable toy for him. At the Hammer Museum, we viewed Frances Stark’s “UH-OH” exhibit featuring the artist’s personal Skype conversations with men she had intimate relationships with while abroad in France. The work is titled “From Sexual Attraction Can Be Born An Idea.” Though not queer herself, her art does push the boundaries of taboo and the appropriate. “So my sex cam story came about when I noticed, in fact, that I was writing all the time without realizing it,” Stark says in a promotional video on the Hammer Museum website. The artwork depicts digital caricatures of people who are naked except for underwear. They are set on a green background and read Stark’s Skype conversation scripts in computer-produced voices. These artistic choices make it very easy for viewers to interpret the work in a way that resonates with them and allows room for personal interpretation, such as in my case as a closeted bisexual. Stark’s relationships were with younger men, forming an atypical story that urges more conversations about these different kinds of intimate dyads. My parents never talked to me about sex in my 22 years of life as their daughter. They did, however, tell me not to let myself get pregnant: No te vengas con tu domingo siete. But my young mind would think: But what about having safe sex and no babies? Or what about my sex life with the girls I had crushes on? This installation allowed me to not only bring up sex as an adult to my parents, but also to discuss the variations in these intimacies, including same-sex relationships. While I have not been able to tell them about my interest in women, we can at least talk about lesbians in general. I introduce them to the LGBTQ community without revealing my hidden identity directly. In doing so, we can objectively talk about the community’s struggles in families such as mine without the conversation becoming muted with the possible emotions that would come up during discussions with the unfamiliar. Queer or not, I am their daughter and they brought me into this world. I am who I am. Exploring my potential realities and sexuality should be no less exciting for them as it is for me.

Queer or not, I am their daughter and they brought me into this world.

“

The art: Kerckhoff walk-through

@dailybruinprime | WINTER 2016

LIFESTYLE

lipstick,cars,shop,hand bags,sweater

introspection. WRITTEN & PHOTOGRAPHED BY ANGIE WANG

@dailybruinprime | WINTER 2017

or four dancers, performance is introspective. It’s a way to explore how the world influences us, how much say we have in that influence and whether it changes us for better or worse. Morgan Hood and Natalee Palmer criticize the power discrepancies between white women and women of color and how media depictions and societal expectations influence what their ideal bodies should look like. Madison Olandt and Michelle Olson examine how someone’s outward representation impacts how they are perceived. Do their selfrepresentations aim to deceive? If so, for whose benefit – their own, or others’?

In their piece titled “The Seed,” Morgan Hood and Natalee Palmer capture the overlap of several social identities, including gender, race, class and sexuality. Media depictions and societal expectations planted in Hood’s and Palmer’s minds color how others view them, Hood said. The two dancers restrict their torsos, thighs and upper arms with Saran Wrap to appear thinner – a criticism of the heavily edited photos of women that appear in advertisements and magazines. Hood and Palmer, both fourth-year sociology and dance students, studied different cultures’ idealized body images in Sociology 156: “Race and Ethnicity in American Life.” For example, ideal black bodies are curvy, while white bodies are thin, Palmer said. She added she and Hood frequently perform together and are often called twins, but their experiences in the job market differ because of the colors of their skin. This moment in the routine is telling of the racial conflict between the dancers. Palmer pulls at Hood’s clothing, capturing her desire to fight back and disrupt Hood’s authority over her. Both dancers begin to expose the Saran Wrap under each other’s clothes, revealing their insecurities about ideal female body images.

“Black individuals need to do more to achieve the same recognition as their white counterparts.” Hood and Palmer begin their performance in a position that highlights the racial divide between the black body and the white body, Hood said. Palmer, with her hands up, symbolizes racial violence against people of color. “The position demonstrates a dependency that (Palmer) has on me, a white female,” Hood said. “The halo around my head is a powerful symbol of not only the power I have, but the problematic feeling of righteousness.” Throughout the dance, Palmer consistently executes moves that require more strength. Palmer said the choreography reflects real-world expectations, because black individuals need to do more to achieve the same recognition as their white counterparts. By the end of their performance, the narrative comes full circle – Palmer stands strong and victorious while Hood lies in a restrictive, diminutive position, Palmer said. Both dancers strike sexualized poses, with their backs arched, legs bent and chests out. Their clothing has been cast aside, a commentary on how male attention is awarded to women who show more skin. The halo now encircles Palmer, who appears to have found mobility in embracing her sexuality.

ART

“THE SEED”

@dailybruinprime | WINTER 2017

adison Olandt and Michelle Olson use their senior dance project as an opportunity for selfreflection. Their performance, titled “Division,” tackles questions about social perception and deception. Olandt, a fourth-year psychology and dance student, said her experiences in two contrasting worlds – academia and dance – led her to

question how she was allowing her environment to change who she is, in her own eyes and in others’. How do we distinguish between adapting to our surroundings and being molded by them? Olson, a fourth-year anthropology and dance student, said she struggles to make time for introspection. Through this performance, she asks herself to let go – to loosen the reins and allow for more balance between the way she wants things done and the external influences in her life.

ART

@dailybruinprime | WINTER 2017

“DIVISION”

“ It can be easy to lose yourself in the opinions of strong people who enter your life.”

{ } Olandt appears to fly over Olson, their arms mirroring one another’s. Olson said this moment in the routine highlights the importance of staying grounded in who you are despite the constant external energies that push you to change. Olandt added it can be easy to lose yourself in the opinions of strong people who enter your life.

During their performance, Olandt and Olson’s legs and feet form triangular shapes. Olandt said the triangles, symbolic of change, represent how their environment is constantly in a state of transformation. Olson added individuals are never stagnant because they continue to be influenced by new environments and people who surround them. Olandt said the two dancers represent the duality in everything, but Olandt and Olson are not foils for each other. Olson said they aim to complement and balance one another – two parts of the same whole.

@dailybruinprime | WINTER 2017

UNVEILED WRITTEN BY UMBREEN ALI

PHOTOS BY MIRIAM BRIBIESCA

walked back from class, my hair damp with sweat beneath the fabric covering my head. A group of students scattered across Bruin Walk handed out flyers and stopped each person that passed by to passionately discuss their civil rights campaign. “Support marriage equality!” As I walked by, every single one of them avoided making eye contact with me.

I am not a feminist; I am not an editor at the Daily Bruin – my identity is reduced to what they surmise from a piece of fabric on my head. These are the same people who stop me to ask my opinion on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, to ask me what makes Islam better than Christianity, to start up religious debates with me. Don’t get me wrong – I am happy to answer questions about why I personally decided to cover my hair and what it means to me. In fact, I also enjoy discussing a myriad of topics unrelated to religion. But when I’m suddenly expected to explain and defend my beliefs while I’m going about a normal day on campus stressing about midterms, I get a little frustrated. The fact of the matter is that I am not an

CULTURE

@dailybruinprime | WINTER 2016

On one hand, I was glad to be left alone because being approached by strangers makes me uncomfortable. At the same time, I was upset. Given how enthusiastic the people flyering were, their avoidance of me felt like an assumption, based on my appearance, that I would never support marriage equality. I wear a hijab. Colloquially, “hijab” is used to refer to the headscarf many Muslim women wear. On a more technical level, “hijab” refers to Islamic standards for dress and behavior, which emphasize modesty and dignity. I choose to cover my hair because I believe it is one part of this larger set of standards. Sometimes when people look at me, all they see is my headscarf. To them, I am not a UCLA student;

CULTURE

Because sometimes I am confused, and sometimes I do struggle with my faith.

“The fact of the matter is that I am not an authority on Islam, nor do I know much about religious politics. My open display of faith is by no means a declaration of expertise on the subject.”

the reaction I received as I stepped off the plane and into the airport. I was simply walking toward baggage claim, but silence and stares followed in my wake. I could stop nearly all discussion and movement in an airport terminal with my presence. The United States is the only home I have ever known, but in that moment I had never felt more like I did not belong. I had never felt more powerful, and I had never felt more powerless. For me, wearing a headscarf can be a heavy burden to bear, but not for reasons people usually assume. I have Muslim friends who simply cannot bear the thought of covering their hair. They think it makes them look ugly and cannot get past that. I have Muslim friends who are afraid they will be attacked or discriminated against if they wear a headscarf. While I can appreciate these concerns, they have never been issues I spent much time worrying about, and I do not think of them as the true burden of hijab. For me, covering my hair can be difficult because it puts me up on a pedestal I do not want. It seems to imply some sort of moral superiority or religious authority I do not have. I am simply trying to practice my faith in the way I know how. In my eyes, donning a headscarf every morning is a

commitment I am making to myself to continually strive to better my character. It is a reminder of who I am and what I believe, a reminder to uphold my dignity and self-respect in all my actions. Yes, hijab can be a burden, but over the past six years, it has become an integral part of my identity. Not wearing it would feel stranger than wearing it. I used to wonder how my life would be different if I had never started covering my hair. Would I care more about my appearance? Would I be more outgoing? Would I have more friends? This is where I often stopped myself. I reasoned to myself that if someone were not my friend because of my hijab, they probably were not a friend I needed anyway. I have made many friends through my headscarf, either because they knew what it meant or because they did not and wished they did. Looking back, I must have spent hours thinking about how my life might be different, never reaching a definitive answer because it simply is not possible to determine all the ways hijab has affected my life. But who knows? It is not something I waste time thinking about anymore. Because an Umbreen who wears a headscarf is a truer version of myself than an Umbreen who does not wear a headscarf. And I cannot be apologetic about that.

@dailybruinprime | WINTER 2016

authority on Islam, norfrom do I know much I was flattered she trusted mefabric with such a personal walked back class, myabout hairreligious damp with sweat beneath the covering politics. My open display of faith is by no means a matter, but I was also saddened by how embarrassed my head. declaration of expertise on the subject. she felt while telling me her story. Contrary to what she ability to giveflyers her advice the subject A group of students scattered across Bruinthought, Walk my handed out andonstopped I leaned into the conversation, absentmindedly tucking came not from my supposed religious authority but back a strand of hair had escaped headscarf as from my prior struggles the very same thing. each person thatthat passed by tomypassionately discuss their civil with rights campaign. my friend told me about her relationship with her faith. She had nothing to be embarrassed about in front of “Support marriage equality!” She told me about how she believed in Christianity as me. Although I wear a headscarf and she does not, I did a As religion but followed the teachings of Buddhism in her avoided not feel religiously superior to her in any way.me. I knew I walked by, every single one of them making eye contact with day-to-day behavior. Since I regard Islam as both my that, although she was having trouble praying, she religion and my guidebook for daily life, we compared showed her religious devotion in other ways. They just the teachings of Christianity, Buddhism and Islam, were not as visual as my headscarf is. finding several similarities among the three faiths. Nobody ever asks me about how strong my faith is. Sometimes the subject of religion will come up while They look at my hijab and think that somebody who I’m casually speaking with my friends. I enjoy learning is willing to put her faith on display like that must be about other people’s religious beliefs. It is interesting religious. to hear what others – whether they are Jewish, Hindu, I wonder if anybody has ever considered that maybe atheist or anything else – think of spirituality. I am struggling with my faith. Maybe there are things What I do not enjoy is how some people seem to close about faith that confuse and elude me. Maybe I could up while talking to me about their faith, as if I will occasionally use their religious advice rather than the somehow look down upon their practices simply because other way around. I am so obviously spiritual. Because sometimes I am confused, and sometimes I do A Muslim friend once came to me for advice. She struggle with my faith. was having trouble completing her five daily prayers and was wondering if I had any suggestions to get her The barista took my order, glancing away as I back on track. While telling me her feelings about the adjusted my scarf. matter, she kept interrupting herself with phrases such I am not normally a self-conscious person. I do not as, “I’m sure you always pray on time,” and, “Please usually spend time thinking about what others think of don’t think badly of me for this.” me, what they think of my headscarf. But sometimes I cannot help but think about what the woman in the elevator sees when she glances at me and quickly looks away throughout our brief trip together, or what that parent thinks as he hurriedly pulls his child away from the good-natured staring contest we started at the grocery store. I cannot help but notice the car that was idling in the Luskin Conference Center turnaround speed up to pass me and then slow down to ask the person three feet in front of me for directions to Pauley Pavilion. Then I start to wonder if my behavior seems too aggressive. I have never been very bubbly or friendly around strangers, but I start to wonder if I should change that. Should I have smiled more when I ordered my chai latte? Could my walk somehow be calmer? Most of the time when I start thinking these thoughts, I am quick to laugh at my foolishness. Why am I thinking about whether my walk is too aggressive? It is ridiculous to think that I should make myself less assertive because of how I dress. However, there are times I cannot shake these thoughts so easily, because I know there are people out there who consider my every action to be offensive simply because I wear a piece of fabric around my head. California is so diverse that it is easy to forget how foreign the sight of a woman in a headscarf is in certain parts of the United States. I once visited a smaller city in the Midwest for a wedding, and I will never forget

The Importance of

Letter Writing WRITTEN BY LINDSAY BRIBIESCAS

GRAPHIC BY MAGGIE SHI ILLUSTRATION BY JESSE WANG Dear readers, One of my earliest, fondest memories is receiving a letter from my great-aunt and great-uncle. They lived in the United Kingdom and were not overly fond of technology, at least as far as I could recall. They said the simple things someone says to unfamiliar family members: How’s school, how’s life, hope you’re well, come visit soon. It was simple, but it was in their handwriting. Reading that letter gave me a connection to my dad’s side of the family, a majority of whom I had never met. From that moment forward, I made every effort to give or send as many handwritten notes as possible – in gifts, letters or random notes to my dad before he left for work. The history of letter writing is a rich one, ranging from romantic war correspondences to simple reminders to swing by the grocery store. Books of handwritten love letters have been compiled from various time periods, and stand as testaments to the feasibility of long-distance relationships. Writing by hand is a way of cementing memories, as numerous studies have shown. Why would sentimental memories be affected any differently? I began writing letters to myself, and to my dad shortly after he passed away. It solidified what I could remember of him – and us – and helped me work through some problems that arose following his death. The act of writing something down, seeing it on solid paper and acknowledging that what was happening was real and couldn’t be deleted at the touch of a button was satisfying. Studies done by Georgetown University have found evidence to link expressive writing to improvement in the attitudes of cancer patients – a study that I think could reasonably apply to other difficulties in life, as well. If those expressive writings happen to look like a letter, from which you can receive comfort and advice from a friend or family member, why not? Handwritten letters can be more intimate than

electronic or even verbal forms of communication. For one, there is more effort required to get a posted letter to someone. Stamps have to be bought, addresses collected and letters posted. You can even go the extra mile by finding personalized stationery. Emails are much easier – and faster – to send, which makes them more practical, but less personal. Alternatively, physical letters can be stored in a desk or an attic and felt, much in the way that a favorite toy or blanket can be felt. But more than that, letters allow you to be in the room with the reader. Your handwriting is there, your scent – imagined or not – is there, something that you’ve physically held and written on is there. Letter writing is more than just sending words, it’s a way of being with someone that is too far to speak to in person. For the reader, it’s an insight into your consciousness, where you can exist in a mental space together even if you’re a continent apart. For the writer, it’s an opportunity to think about your life, to think about what first comes into your head when you want to tell someone something. My junior year of high school, my language teacher handed out an assignment on how to write a letter. The process involved sitting down at a table, any table, and writing down whatever came to mind, whether it was what you did that day or a decision you had been mulling over. You could write to tell the person that you’ve been thinking about them or how you forgot about a meeting and had to run there. The important thing is taking the time to write a piece of yourself onto paper and send it. Yours truly,

Lindsay Bribiescas

FREE & FIGHTING WRITTEN & PHOTGRAPHED BY MACKENZIE POSSEE

hose were the numbers Andrew Winn saw beside his name while he sat in the back of a squad car. 664: attempted. 187: murder. Winn spent 12 hours in the back of that car, his hands tightly cuffed behind him. The same hands that sent a man to the hospital with a subdural hematoma from which he would never recover. Today, Winn is a fourth-year sociology student minoring in African American studies. He is the president of the University Apartments South Residents Association, an intern at the UCLA Community Programs Office and a member of the Justice Work Group. Next year, he will be pursuing a doctorate in sociology.

CULTURE

In 2016, Winn kept hearing Bryonn Bain’s name while locating resources on campus for formerly incarcerated students. The pair had never met, but Winn did his research. “One day he was walking in front of Haines Hall and I go, ‘Aren’t you professor Bain?’” Winn said. Bain grew up in Brooklyn, New York, as the son of immigrants from Trinidad and Tobago. “I grew up in communities that didn’t have certain kinds of power that I thought we should have more of,” Bain said. “I went to law school to try to understand power.” During his second year at Harvard Law School, Bain – now a UCLA professor – was arrested for a crime he did not commit. Bain spent five months defending himself in court, an experience that continues to impact his life. In 1999 in New York City, Bain was arrested with his cousin and brother. “Cops had gotten a call (that) shots were fired, and we were the only black and brown folks standing around,” Bain said. Lani Guinier was Bain’s professor and mentor at Harvard. She encouraged Bain to submit the story of his arrest to The New York Times after he wrote about his unjust experience in her class.

“The New York Times editors called me up and said, ‘So this is a little racy for us, but why don’t you send it to The Village Voice,’” Bain said. “The Village Voice needed a cover story, and then it got over 100,000 responses.” People across the globe reached out to Bain, many of them having faced similar injustices. “People wrote in saying ... ‘They won’t believe us, but maybe they’ll believe you, because you have all them fancy degrees. All them overpriced degrees,’” Bain said. Mike Wallace, a former correspondent for CBS’s “60 Minutes,” contacted Bain, who soon appeared on the show. “Twenty million people saw that,” Bain said. Bain got the name and badge number of the officer who arrested him and made degrading comments in the process, Bain said. Speaking out inspired many, but it came at a price. “I started to have over a dozen cases of identity theft,” Bain said. “So clearly the cops had a reason to retaliate against me and someone was doing that very effectively.” While working as a professor at New York University and teaching at Rikers Island, a jail complex in New York City, Bain was arrested again during a traffic stop for warrants that were out for Anwar Bostick, an alleged alias of Bain’s that he has never used. “I was actually coming home from an awards ceremony where we won an award for grassroots arts and activism work in the prisons,” Bain said. “They arrested me for grand larceny and two misdemeanors.” The police took him to a jail barge called the Vernon C. Bain Correctional Center, Bain said. “They put me on a prison boat off of Hunts Point in the Bronx named after the white folks who owned my ancestors,” Bain said. “What better way to say, ‘Boy, know your place.’” Since then, Bain has channelled his experience into artistic outlets, such as his recurring one-man performance, “Lyrics From Lockdown,” and more recently

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“They put me on a prison boat off Hunts Point in the Bronx named after the white folks who owned my ancestors.What better way to say, ‘Boy, know your place.’” -Bryonn Bain

CULTURE

@dailybruinprime | WINTER 2016

his education initiatives at a women’s prison, where UCLA professors lead workshops and lectures. Winn knew as soon as he met Bain that he wanted to develop their relationship. He took Bain’s class, African American Studies C191: “Microphone Fiends: Hip-Hop and Spoken Word,” in fall 2016. Students were tasked with writing and performing spoken word, something that provided Winn with a platform to share his experiences. It was the start of a close relationship between the two, one that Winn said has developed to a level of trust and comfort. “He values my social capital, which is not always the case, especially with somebody who has been (incarcerated) a few times like I have,” Winn said. “He really values what I can bring to the table. He listens intently to my ideas. He really pushes for me to get involved.” Today, Bain is the faculty adviser of Justice Work Group, a UCLA student organization founded in 2014. Winn joined last year. “He immediately had this magnetism and energy about him that without even saying much to me ... I was immediately looking forward to how we were going to work together,” Bain said. Danielle Dupuy, a doctoral student at the UCLA Fielding School of Public Health and a co-founder of JWG, said she helped form the group to create a forum at UCLA for students from different disciplines to discuss issues surrounding incarceration and the power of education for currently and formerly incarcerated people. “We wanted to start something where we could have productive dialogue,” Dupuy said. “But also do some real work.” Eric Henderson, a UCLA alumnus, introduced Winn to JWG. Henderson, who also studied sociology, said he thought Winn would be a perfect fit. “He’s a great person, committed to helping folks out,” Henderson said. Winn and Bain, despite the differing

“But the real problem was me the

whole time. -Andrew Winn

Drug addiction is where Winn’s legal troubles begin and end. His first arrest was in Glenn County, California. “I moved out there because I thought I had to get a fresh start,” Winn said. “But the real problem was me the whole time.” The arrests, too numerous for Winn to count, continued after his release. His first charges were for possession and being under the influence, but the crimes escalated as his addiction progressed. “I needed to find ways to support myself because holding a job wasn’t enough,” Winn said. “I stole cars, I broke into cars, I broke into houses while people were sleeping in them. I would call them dope fiend crimes – things we would do out of desperation.” This spiral began with property crimes, but the combination of living on the streets, a growing addiction and constant arrests altered Winn’s outlook. “I’ve been woken up by being beaten with a metal rod before,” Winn said. “Living that kind of life, it’s like you abuse or be abused. ... At that point I was just like, ‘I’ll fight too.’ I fought, and I fought a lot.” Violence became the standard in Winn’s life, not the exception. “I used violence to get what I wanted,” Winn said. In 2007, this approach would put him behind bars. A friend of Winn’s told lies about him to keep his meth supplier happy, mainly accusing Winn of stealing from the supplier’s brother. The supplier brought a gun to Winn’s house only to find none of the allegedly stolen items. Winn confronted his friend. “The guy started stuttering,” Winn said. “Because I knew him, I knew stuttering meant that there was a lie coming shortly after, so instead of waiting for that lie I just punched him.” The punch knocked his friend out, and his head hit the ground. Hard. Winn gave his then-girlfriend and her friend money to take him to the hospital since he hadn’t woken up. Instead, the pair took him to a dealer’s house and blew meth smoke in his face to rouse him. It wasn’t for another 12 hours that the man was taken to the hospital, Winn said. The man’s family didn’t know it was Winn who sent him to the hospital when he visited.

“The guilt just overwhelmed me, so I left,” Winn said. “He died two weeks later.” His then-girlfriend told the case detectives – who were already familiar with Winn – what happened. A helicopter, squad cars and a canine unit arrested Winn at work. “Needless to say, I never got my job back,” Winn said. After spending hours handcuffed in the back of a police car, detectives escorted Winn to an interview room. Understanding his predicament, Winn immediately asked for an attorney. “That’s what allowed me to be here today,” Winn said. The district attorney sought a second-degree murder charge, which carries a sentence of 15 years to life in prison, Winn said. After studying similar cases and working with the family lawyer who came to the jail, Winn suggested an alternate deal. Lengthy negotiations eventually made headway. Winn refused to take any deal involving the possibility of life in prison. The representative countered with a plea deal of involuntary manslaughter with a four-year sentence. Of that sentence, Winn served two and a half years: 18 months in county jail and one year in prison. Winn credits several things as the starting points of his sobriety, specifically prisoner outreach programs within the Sacramento County jail. They included alcohol and drug addiction groups and counselors, classes with a family lawyer and ManAlive, a program aimed at ending domestic violence. “I was still getting high in jail,” Winn said. “It wasn’t until I got to prison, and I did some drugs and I really reflected – ‘I feel horrible about doing this, and I actually know better now.’” Aug. 27, 2008, was the last time Winn used drugs. “All this was in me before,” Winn said. “Nothing has changed except for me addressing the issues that got me into those predicaments.” That was the last time that Winn was incarcerated, but the impact of his time in jail and prison never left him. Winn became sober one year before he was released from prison. Winn’s motivation to end the cycle stemmed from a letter he received from his father while incarcerated. His mother and father are foster parents of more than 20 years, as well as the primary caretakers of Winn’s two youngest siblings. In the letter, Winn’s father wrote: “The only way you can truly be successful is if you find ways to give back to your community regularly.”

CULTURE

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contexts of their incarcerations, are committed to working with JWG to reform the justice system that they have both experienced.

”

“The only way you can truly be successful is if you find ways to give back to your community regularly.”

CULTURE

At Harvard, Guinier suggested that Bain take his unjust experiences and transform them into a hip-hop opera. “I initially thought the idea was crazy,” Bain said. He took his story and created “Lyrics From Lockdown,” a performance that marries hip-hop, spoken word, an AfroCarribean form of music called calypso, classical music and comedy. The show utilizes a live band and a video DJ and debuted in 2013 at the National Black Theatre in New York. The show was brought back to Los Angeles for a month of performances in February 2017, starting with an official UCLA opening night to bring awareness to JWG and raise funds for the creation of a center for justice. Dupuy said a major mission of the group is supporting the creation of a center for justice at UCLA, to house a space for productive discussion and hands-on learning among students. It is a goal that Bain has been instrumental in developing, Dupuy said. Bain’s prison education initiative is the catalyst for the creation of this center, she added. An ongoing series of classes at the California Institution for Women, a state prison located in Corona, California, brings UCLA lecturers and students into the prison. Bain has organized a series of faculty workshops and lectures with topics ranging from urban planning to biochemistry. The creative writing class at the prison will culminate in a production this spring of “What It iZ,” an adaptation of the musical “The Wiz,” based on the experiences of incarcerated people adapted by women in the workshop, Bain said. The show begins its two-day run March 17 at the Los Angeles Theatre Center. Bain said the students in his “Microphone Fiends” class worked as the production crew and helped set up the event as a benefit for JWG and its center for justice. “What’s magical about it is the language, the verse, the stories that are very now,” Bain said. “Everybody ends up in prison in the show.” JWG also works within the Barry J. Nidorf Juvenile Hall,

a juvenile detention center in Sylmar, California. InsideOUT Writers, an organization that uses creative writing to reduce recidivism – the propensity of criminals to reoffend – hosts an annual retreat at BJNH where youths are able to share their poetry with an audience of friends, advocates and their families, Dupuy said. The youths at the retreat are members of the Compound at BJNH, which holds juveniles who are being tried as adults. “We were there,” said Winn, who attended the retreat in October. “We were smiling, trying to be happy for the kids presenting. It’s a tough pill to swallow. It was very emotionally draining to be able to relate to those kids who will be serving that type of time.” Bain and Dupuy emceed the event, while Winn attended as a member of both Bain’s class and JWG. During his time there, Winn connected with one of the youths after learning he wants to be a sociologist. “He told me, ‘I’m gonna get out one day,’” Winn said. “I just got done hearing a bunch of kids looking at 174 years to life (in prison).” The pair exchanges letters and Winn said he plans to send him books to help develop his interest and mindset toward sociology. “I gave him a quick rundown on my story and just kind of let him know that there’s still hope,” Winn said. “Knowing that you have a place in society is very important.” Winn has proven to be an asset to JWG, Dupuy said. “He’s amazing,” Dupuy said. “He’s always there and always presenting ideas. It just shows the strength of having someone (who was) formerly incarcerated in a leadership position.” Dupuy said she was proud of Winn’s pursuit of a doctorate and hopes that he will be on the path to start a similar program at the graduate school he attends next fall. “His story gives hope to all the youth I talk to now ... who can’t really see themselves going to that level of education,” Dupuy said. “Education provides a real pathway for a successful life, but also reduces recidivism immensely.”

Although no longer incarcerated, Winn says he will never again be truly free. “Now I have mental health issues,” Winn said. “I wake up in the middle of the night with nightmares and heavy breathing.” During one of Winn’s incarcerations, he witnessed a man being attacked while walking the yard. Two men with knives began stabbing the man, who managed to get the better of the fight, despite his puncture wounds. Now, he feels a need to sit in corners, where he can be completely aware of his surroundings. “There’s a lot of narrative right there,” Winn said. “You have to persevere. Your life depends on it. And then the other part is the realization that the guys who did it were this man’s friend the day before. ... It’s business.” Winn’s experience in Bain’s class allowed him to address the mental health issues he developed while incarcerated. “Being able to write (about my mental health issues) and say it in front of other people is really helpful with the healing process,” Winn said. The necessity for reparative law is clear, but it needs to be reformed, he said. “I do know I owed something,” Winn said. “I don’t feel like I owed a lifetime of agony through mental health conditions. I don’t think I deserve having to explain myself every time I’m up for employment. I don’t think I should have to explain myself every time I apply to grad schools.” The political suppression of currently and formerly incarcerated people is what Winn said drives him forward. “I’m willing and I’m ready to fight,” Winn said. “Being a part of JWG, being able to mentor men and women like myself, the children that I work with who are facing life

sentences, all of them, it’s going to take somebody like myself to make the change.” His education will help him in the fight, Winn said – but his experiences, too, guide him and push him forward. “When I was released from prison, one of the things that crossed my mind was that they just released a motherfucker.”

“I’m willing and I’m ready to fight.” -Andrew Winn

SEE

Echo Park WRITTEN BY ADRIJA CHAKRABARTY PHOTOS BY ERIN RICE

estled in between the looming skyscrapers of downtown Los Angeles and the uber-trendy coffee shops of Silver Lake, Echo Park is a humble hybrid of the urban downtown scene and the laid-back vibes of LA suburbs. In Echo Park, many of Los Angeles’ most unique cultural facets come together to create a community that has a vibrant and distinctive energy. Riddled with vegan cafes, quirky thrift stores, Mexican fruit stands and bold street murals, Echo Park features a fusion of the city’s most beloved cultural staples. One of the most noteworthy aspects of the Echo Park area is the park of the same name, which has undergone renovations in recent years to clean up the water in the lake. The houses in the Angelino Heights neighborhood have made cameos in famous Hollywood media like the “Thriller” music video. And just a few blocks away is the renowned Dodger Stadium, where families and friends gather together for baseball games. From navigating the most culturally significant landmarks to scouting the artsiest eateries in the locale, prime highlights what this charming Los Angeles community has to offer.

Echo Park

prime

LAGUIDE CITY

The perfect place to spend a lazy Sunday afternoon, Echo Park is many Angelenos’ ideal escape from the hubbub of urban life. As I strolled around the perimeter of the park, I saw families pedal boating with kids in tow, millennial women jogging in Lululemon clothes and even a man meditating on the grassy knolls. Besides the family-friendly feel of the place, the park has splendid views that took me by surprise. The park’s lake overlooks the downtown financial district and blends sleek cityscape with beautiful greenery in a truly breathtaking way. Popular things to do here range from boating with the DTLA skyscrapers as a backdrop to sipping lattes from the park’s lighthouse-shaped cafe, Beacon.

LIFESTYLE

Carroll Avenue

The Echo The venue seems inconspicuous at first glance; the beige exterior and humble marquee are overpowered by the colorful shops nearby. However, The Echo is a local favorite in terms of intimate concert venues. Although most of the shows are done by punkrock cover artists, there have been some notable performers like Beck and The Rolling Stones that have graced the venue in the past. The disco balls on top and wall of beer on tap add even more allure to the lounge-like space. The Echo features cover bands almost every night for prices as low as $10 and is an essential part of the city’s nightlife. Although I did not get a chance to catch an under-21 show, the friendly staff and decked-out interior made attending a show here a new addition to my bucket list.

Sage organic Vegan Bistro

EAT

Sage Organic Vegan Bistro is a quaint cafe tucked in the corner of a building on Sunset Boulevard that does not attract much attention from the outside. However, the shabby industrial space spruced up with ample greenery and mason jar light fixtures makes the interior a hipster heaven. Upon walking in, I smelled the distinct gingery smell of raw juiceries, which added to the ambience. I’m neither vegan nor vegetarian, which made me skeptical of eating at a vegan bistro. However, the fare is flavorful and delightful, not just for vegans but also for carnivores and everyone in between. My favorite item from lunch there was easily the hot wings dish. Made from firm, fried cauliflower doused in tangy buffalo sauce, these vegan buffalo wing alternatives will make even the most devout meat-eaters concede to their greatness.

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The site of the haunted house from Michael Jackson’s epochal “Thriller” music video and the Halliwell Manor from the television show “Charmed,” Carroll Avenue has enjoyed its fair share of the limelight. Located in Echo Park’s Angelino Heights neighborhood, the street is lined with impressive Victorian-style homes that struck me as somewhere between breathtaking and haunted. Whether I was looking at the sprawling front porches or the quirky weathervanes, the houses made Carroll Avenue one of my favorite locations to sightsee because of their nostalgic feel and cultural significance.

DOUGHNUT COASTERS WRITTEN BY HAYLEY MCAVOY

PHOTOS BY MARYROSE KULICK

Materials

s the pitter-patter of precipitation hits the roof of my apartment, it seems that Southern California has taken a break from its sunny-day repertoire. Lately, with all the rain that has struck Westwood and all the beach days that have been canceled, I have been revisiting childhood rainy day crafts. However, I’ve had to tweak them a bit to fit into this new adult-ish life and provide a functional use in my apartment. Doughnut coasters – an ode to one of my favorite frosting-covered pastries – are just that. On one hand they’re useful to have around, limiting the number of rings left on the table after a Thursday night. But they also retain a bit of childhood whimsy, looking like colorful little doughnuts. They are simple enough to create – even for the artistically challenged – and add a bit of character and class to any college dorm room or apartment. So on one of the many rainy days this quarter, I set out to make a set of doughnut coasters. Upon completion, I immediately put them to use as I sat and drank my hot chocolate while watching the rain streak down my window.

Set of round cork circles X-Acto knife Paint brushes Assorted acrylic paints

Instructions 1

Trace the center of the doughnut. I used the bottom of a pod for a Keurig coffee maker as a stencil to cut out the hole. A quarter or a shot glass would also do the trick.

Cut out the doughnut. Before using the X-Acto knife, be sure to put something underneath the coaster to protect the table below. I used cardboard.

Paint the icing of the doughnut. I like strawberry doughnuts so I painted it pink, but feel free to use any other colors.

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Paint sprinkles on the doughnut (optional). I doughnut think any doughnut is complete without sprinkles, but that’s just me.

Heat up a mug of hot chocolate and enjoy!

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nanaimo bars recipe:

WRITTEN BY ISABELLE ROY PHOTOS BY HANNAH BURNETT

ince moving to Westwood, there are few things I’ve missed more than my mother’s baking. Although cookies and cupcakes are great, there’s a harder-to-find dessert I crave even more: Nanaimo bars. The three-layer treat originates from Nanaimo, British Columbia, on Vancouver Island, and has not spread far beyond its Pacific Northwestern roots. With a base layer of graham crackers, almonds, coconut and cocoa, a middle layer of custard and a top layer of chocolate, Nanaimo bars are the stuff dessert dreams are made of. The only reason I’ve been exposed to them is because my mother grew up eating them and then passed them down to me. Without the ability to buy them at my local supermarket, I’ve turned to making them myself when I want a reminder of my family. When the smell of chocolate fills the kitchen, it takes me right back to when I was younger. Recipe adapted from nanaimo.ca.

bottom layer

½ cup salted butter ¼ cup sugar 5 tablespoons cocoa 1 egg beaten 1 ¼ cups graham cracker crumbs ½ cup finely chopped almonds 1 cup coconut Melt the butter, sugar and cocoa in the top of a double boiler. To make a double boiler at home, place a glass or metal bowl on top of a saucepan of simmering water, making sure that the bowl does not come in contact with the water. Add the egg and stir to cook and thicken. Remove from heat. Stir in crumbs, coconut and nuts. Press firmly into an ungreased 8-by-8-inch pan.

middle layer

½ cup salted butter 2 tablespoons and 2 teaspoons cream 2 tablespoons vanilla custard powder (Note: This can be hard to find in the U.S., so I used vanilla pudding mix.) 2 cups powdered sugar Cream butter, cream, custard powder and icing sugar together well. Beat until light. Spread over bottom layer.

top layer 4 ounces semisweet chocolate 2 tablespoons salted butter Melt chocolate and butter over low heat. Once cool, but still liquid, pour chocolate over second layer and chill in the refrigerator. The bars can be served at room temperature, but I prefer them straight out of the fridge so the custard doesn’t melt.

LIFESTYLE