February 2021
MARAʼS WORLD, MARAʼS WAY: p.5 DECODING BOTTLECODE: p.8 A NEW NATIONALISM: p.10 WELL-VERSED: p.12
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CONTENTS Staff of The Monthly Issue 34
Jennifer Zhan Monthly Editor Emma Ruck Creative Director Cynthia Zhang Jacob Fulton Meher Yeda Designers Jordan Mangi Maria Ximena Aragon Rayna Song Rebecca Aizin Wilson Chapman Writers
Mara’s World, Mara’s Way
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Decoding Bottlecode
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A New Nationalism
10
Well-Versed
12
Open Tab
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Reel Thoughts
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Letter from the
Editor:
What is love? The question has been asked by artists around the world, from Trinidadian-German singer Haddaway to the K-pop girl group TWICE. Luckily for them, I have the answer: Love is the theme of The Monthly this issue. Alright, alright, that’s sort of a cop-out. But hey, love isn’t easy to define. Love is blind, hard and patient, love is love, love finds a way… society has a lot to say about this particular feeling of affection. Obviously, many people associate this month with romantic love because of Valentine’s Day. But in February, we also celebrate Lunar New Year and Black History Month, and there’s love for a community and culture there too. To me, many different types of platonic bonds are equally worth celebrating, including the relationships we have with our family, with our friends, with our pets and even with ourselves. We can also love things that are less tangible. I never pass up any chance to tell the story of when my sister was in grade school and learned about all the things we can do that are possible because of electricity. Feeling full of love and gratitude, she came home, kissed a lightbulb and nearly burned her lips. While that’s certainly more of a humorous example, I do believe there is often a lot of power in the love we hold for concepts and ideas. Love shows up in many different ways in the pages of this edition of The Monthly. Our cover story features the creator of one of my favorite sitcoms, who highlights her vision of love through her shows. We also have stories that touch on the self-love of skincare and that examine the portrayal of failing relationships. Many of the people we spotlight are driven by love for their craft, whether that is composing classical music or writing poetry or baking customized cakes and cupcakes. Personally, this month was a pretty hard one for me, but I am fortunate that the people in my life showed me a lot of love when I needed it. Right around the time that a winter storm was brewing in my home state of Texas, The Monthly’s staff met virtually for the first time this quarter to get to know each other and share our excitement about our work in this issue and issues to come. I hope you can feel the love that went into these pages.
Jennifer Zhan
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Mara’s world,
Mara’s way Written by Wilson Chapman / Designed by Jacob Fulton
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Mara Brock Akil brings her unique version of life and love to Netflix
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ara Brock Akil (Medill ’92) still remembers the first time she made an audience laugh. As a freshman at Northwestern, she volunteered to help some friends in the Black sketch comedy group Out Da Box with a show. A member of the group encouraged her to write a sketch, and despite her initial protests that she was a journalist, not an entertainment person, she ended up writing a parody of Mike Tyson and Robin Givens’ then-recent marriage. “The first laugh was a high I will never forget,” Akil said. “People responding to my work in the places I imagined they would, it was the first hit of, maybe this is something new.” In the almost 30 years since she graduated from NU, Akil has spent her career making audiences laugh, and occasionally cry, through TV shows that center the experiences of lovable, if deeply flawed, Black women. Her best known show is the beloved 2000 sitcom “Girlfriends,” which follows a
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close knit friend group as they support each other through relationships, their careers, and lives. But since developing “Girlfriends,” she’s established herself as a powerhouse television producer and writer, creating hit shows such as “Girlfriends” spin-off “The Game,” “Being Mary Jane,” “Love Is_,” as well as producing her husband’s Salim Akil’s superhero drama “Black Lightning.” And just recently, Akil has entered a new era of her career: In September, two days before “Girlfriends” began streaming in celebration of its 20th anniversary, Netflix announced a multi-year deal with the writer and producer to develop original content. While Akil can’t say much about what work will come out of this deal, she’s excited to share it with the world. “I feel like I’m wearing my
first day of school outfit,” Akil said, laughing. “You’re going to get more and better of me and my voice.” Akil decided she wanted to work in the TV industry in her senior year at NU, when she met Communication professor Delle Chatman at an Organization of Black Screenwriters seminar. Akil started meeting with Chatman during office hours to discuss her career, and eventually petitioned to get into her screenwriting class. That class was the first time she ever felt a genuine joy for the material, she said. When Chatman passed away in 2006, Akil dedicated an episode of “Girlfriends” to her. Former Communication professor Njoki McElroy taught Akil in two classes focused on directing and per-
ring a e w m e I’ I feel lik day of school my first ou’re going to outfit. Y e and better get mor nd my voice. of me a Brock Akil - Mara
forming Black literature. McElroy described Akil as one of the best students she ever had, with natural talent for developing characters and connecting to fellow performers and crew members. Like her time at NU, Akil said the beginnings of her TV career were defined by the help of mentors who helped open doors for her. Her first major job out of college was as a PA on “The Sinbad Show,” executive produced by Ralph Farquhar. Farquhar became her mentor, and eventually gave Akilher first writing jobs for the short-lived Fox show “South Central” and the hit sitcom “Moesha,” starring Brandy. Working on these shows aimed at Black audiences by Black creators was hugely important to Akil at the time, as it helped her build confidence and the skill set to achieve her career goals. “I didn’t have to prove myself as a woman, I didn’t have to prove myself as a Black person,” Akil said. “I was in a very safe, warm wonderful environment to learn.” During her time writing “Moesha,” Akil met her future husband Salim Akil; the beginning of their relationship would be part of the basis for their OWN show “Love Is_,” which follows the careers of a Black couple in the 90s. Despite only lasting for one season, the show is one of Akil’s favorite works; she describes it
Photos courtesy of Emma Feil, Mara Brock Akil
as the type of show she wanted to make when she first came to Hollywood out of college. Although the show was partly inspired by her own life, Akil said what she enjoyed most about “Love Is_” was how it explored how to balance the responsibilities and obligations that come with different aspects and types of love, including romantic love, but also love for your career, love for your friends and family and love for yourself. Akil also used it to examine the realities of being a Black storyteller in Hollywood and have your love of your art be undervalued. “To get that level of expression out at this point in my career as a storyteller is exciting, because I was able to exercise something that’s been bubbling up within me through many episodes of television,” Akil said. Steven Calitri, who served as the director of cinematography for “Love Is_,” described meeting Akil as both intimidating and relaxing, due to her larger-thanlife but very warm presence. Calitri said Akil built a positive and healthy atmosphere on set, and approached collaboration with a focus on experimentation and creativity. “That environment changed me to approach life in a better way,” Calitri said. “I was like, ‘Why not take up more of your energy with positivity?’” Before “Love Is_,” Akil explored relationships and friendships in her most famous show, “Girlfriends.” Originally, she said the show was pitched to UPN as a response of sorts to the then-airing “Sex and the City.” Akil wanted to create a show that explored sexuality and dating life like
“Sex and the City,” but for young Black women, and with a focus on struggling to have it all rather than just trying to get a man. During the eight-year run of “Girlfriends,” Akil explored different types of friendships between Black women, from the relationship between coworkers Joan (Tracee Ellis Ross) and Maya (Golden Brooks) to the lifelong but often strained friendship between Joan and Toni ( Jill Marie Jones). The show was also unafraid to dive into serious issues that Black women faced, such as colorism and the HIV/ AIDS epidemic. “Girlfriends” aired for eight seasons, only to be cancelled in 2008 without ever receiving a proper series finale. But it remained a beloved touchstone for many Black women, and experienced a resurgence in popularity following its addition to Netflix last September. McElroy said what makes Akil a strong writer is her talent at delving beyond the surface of her characters and developing them in a way that feels human and true to life. This is particularly rare,
one this focus on t a h t s w She knomost difficult positive depicfailed to of the n being Black tions create Black things i our humanitye characters is that have the valu e. that were doesn’t it should hav y true-to-life, and that cElro
she said, for stories about Black people, who often aren’t viewed as human beings by the larger racist society. “She realizes that stories should be meaningful and valuable,” McElroy said. “She gives them that real humanity that’s lacking in a lot of Black situations. Because she knows that one of the most difficult things in being Black is that our humanity doesn’t have the value it should have.” Akil said when she entered the business, she felt there was a pressure on creators to counteract historical negative Black images and create overly positive and unrealistic depictions of Black characters. But to her,
- Njoki M
Black audiences could see themselves in. The women on “Girlfriends” were very flawed people, and that’s part of why they’ve endured. “There is no human being on this earth who is perfect, and that’s what they were asking Black images to be,” Akil said. “Our humanity is between the two extremes of positive and negative. And I think people can respond and see their own humanity reflected back at them in my shows, and I think that’s why they return.” ◊
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NU alum Drishay Menon creates skincare startup for men n the age of Zoom, Drishay Menon (McCormick ‘10) said people are paying attention to their skin now more than ever before. But for him, skincare has been a lifelong journey. Born and raised in Jakarta, Indonesia, Menon struggled with cystic acne growing up. He said the experience damaged his confidence, but that there were causes beyond just genetics. “Men don’t necessarily know how to take care of themselves when it comes to skincare, grooming, and some of the problems that we face,” Menon said. “We haven’t been allowed to talk about it, we’ve not been encouraged to talk about it.” Through sharing personal experiences with razor burns, dark circles, and acne, Menon and his co-founders Rob McIntosh and Jeffrey Meyers realized there was a gap in the skincare industry. They drew inspiration from their time working at Trunk Club, a Chicago-based company that blends technology with a personalized clothing experience, and in 2018, Bottlecode was born. The online skincare and personal care retailer is geared primarily toward men building healthy habits. After taking a 15-ques-
tion quiz, an algorithm matches customers with a set of ingredients that address their individual needs. Then, a list of products is sent to a team of skincare experts and aestheticians, who recommend a regimen. “They’re able to put their personalized touch on it,” Menon said. “That human touch is kind of the last layer that we put on before it’s sent to our
serve men, we serve women, we serve everyone in between,” Menon said. Menon’s wife, Amelia Chen (Weinberg ‘10) describes Menon as a walking Wikipedia on skincare. She notes that it takes resilience, grit, and commitment to be successful in the business world, which are facets of Menon’s personality that his family and friends
We haven’t been allowed to talk about it, we’ve not been encouraged to talk about it. Drishay Menon
McCormick ‘10
customers.” Bottlecode hopes to establish itself as a trusted and unbiased partner in the skincare space as it evolves, Menon said. He added that in an industry historically geared towards women, Bottlecode’s focus on men is not an exclusive one. “This is one opportunity for us to get towards men, but the products and solutions that we solve are for everybody. So we
depend on. “Whenever we turn to him for something, we have full confidence that he’s going to be there, he’s going to give the best that he can, and he’s going to be invested in the problem,” Chen said. “This mission of his to help people in the way that he can, it’s really woven into the fabric of what Bottlecode is. It comes from a very genuine place.” His brother, Akhil
Menon (Weinberg ‘14), describes him as an inherently social person. He said his brother loves to help his friends, whether that’s sharing playlists of music with friends or figuring out a work-fromhome setup. “He just loves recommending solutions and how to live a happier, better life,” Akhil Menon said. “He’s always kind of been obsessed with that, and I’m so crazy proud of him for what he’s doing with Bottlecode.” Drishay Menon said building Bottlecode required taking a step back and seeing how to pull together data, intuition and experience. For those hoping to create a startup, Drishay Menon recommends figuring out what excites you early on. Honing your interests, he said, lets you decide what steps to take in your career rather than letting your career decide for you. “It’s a scary experience to trust and believe in yourself,” Drishay Menon said. “I was able to partner with some incredible founders and incredible individuals that also believed in what we were doing. And we continue today to put one foot in front of the other and try to build something that we believe should exist in the world.” ◊
Photos courtesy of Bottlecode and ettakit
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A New
Nationalism
Alum Jerod Impichchaachaaha’ Tate expresses American Indian identity through classical music
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very time Jerod Impichchaachaaha’ Tate (Bienen ’90) composes a piece about Chickasaw culture, he pictures himself standing in the forests of Mississippi where his ancestors lived before removal. Trips to the area in the ‘90s inspired him to write “Tracing Mississippi,” a concerto that incorporates traditional tribal songs and dance rhythms and was later recorded by the San Francisco Symphony and San Francisco Symphony Chorus. Both his grandmother and his parents were able to hear the piece performed, which he called a dream come true. “(It felt like I was saying), ‘Here, family — this is how I feel about being us,’” Tate said. “I’m very grateful that I have had the opportunity to do that, to say, this is how I feel, as a Chickasaw man, symphonically.” Today, Tate’s works have been commissioned by major North American orchestras, ensembles and organizations. He’s an Emmy Award-winning composer, with pieces featured in documentaries and TV shows such as HBO’s “Westworld.” Inspired by the way that Hungarian composer Béla Bartók recorded, transcribed and preserved the folk music of his people, Tate incorporates American Indian languages, music and stories into his work. His pieces range from a fiery violin solo based on the melody of a Chickasaw Raccoon Song to a cantata about Standing Bear, a Ponca tribal leader and activist. “I could do this for 50 lifetimes and never be done,” Tate said. “There’s so much wonderful and beautiful history and legends that we have got. I love it, I just feel like I’m in this
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Written by Jennifer Zhan / Designed by Cynthia Zhang bath of awesomeness.” Jacqueline Wilson (Yakama), an assistant professor of bassoon at Washington State University, said Tate’s music was the first work she ever played by a Native composer. She describes his approach to music as akin to a new nationalism. Native people are often referred to in the context of tragedy or a forgotten past, Wilson said. But when she performs a work by Tate or another Native composer, she views it as a positive reframing. “There are lots of groups that have had to endure,” Wilson said. “But that does not mean that there is not a beautiful culture here still worth celebrating. And Jerod’s pieces bring to the table a joy and a pride and a contemporary context of this self-representation.” Growing up in Oklahoma, Tate said he was “saturated” with tribal art. His father, a Chickasaw tribal judge who helped write the Chickasaw Nation’s current constitution, was also an opera singer and classically trained musician, while his Manx Irish mother was a choreographer and dancer. From a young age, Tate wanted to become a concert pianist. He received a full-ride scholarship to Northwestern, where he studied as a piano performance major under mentor Donald Isaak. During his senior year at NU, his mother commissioned his first work, a ballet based on American Indian stories from the Northern Plains and Rocky Mountains. Tate initially refused, but said he eventually realized she was giving him a way to be “entirely myself,” marrying his Native identity and classical training. After starting school at
the Cleveland Institute of Music as a piano major, he took time off to tour with the ballet, which he said garnered an extremely positive response from Native colleagues, his tribe and the classical community. “They saw the possibilities, and I was given an enormous amount of encouragement,” Tate said. “So I went back to the Cleveland Institute of Music and I said, ‘I’d like to add composition to my degree.’ And then I told my family that I was intentionally identifying as a Chickasaw classical composer.” Tate also decided to change his feathered ‘80s hairstyle, à la Michael J. Fox, so that Native youth could see someone standing in front of orchestras with a braid. He went on to teach high schoolers in the Hopi, Navajo and Lummi reservations.
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I could do this for 50 lifetimes and never be done.
Jerod Impichchaachaaha’ Tate
Tate works well with students of all ages, said Matthew Mailman (Bienen ’90, ’91), a professor of conducting at Oklahoma City University who has conducted Tate’s work several times. The two met freshman year while living in 1835 Hinman, and played in a wedding band together during college. Today, they’re still close friends who ask each other for professional advice. “When he goes and does a gig, he gets everybody to fall in love with him because he’s so positive and his message is so important,” Mailman said. “Jerod networks extensively, and carefully and lovingly. He stays in touch with people, and it’s all genuine.” For Tate, composing is about expressing yourself and connecting with others. He said that connection transcends time — if he sat down with Mozart, he said
they’d be able to have conversation about some of the same issues, from gigs going south to a violinist questioning whether something they’d written was possible to perform.
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There are lots of groups that have had to endure. But that does not mean that there is not a beautiful culture here still worth celebrating.
”
Jacqueline Wilson
“It’s the same thinking, and the same innovation, and the same risk-taking and criticism or support of the day,” Tate said. “I’m amongst millions of composers. We’re all finding, exploring, expressing our identity and moving the human race forward in expression.” To Tate, his own place in that growing tapestry of creativity is clear. “I would like to be remembered as somebody who was very, very passionately happy being an American Indian composer,” he said. ◊
Photo courtesy of Shevaun Williams
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P
WE
oet, author and playwright Angela Jackson (Weinberg ’77) became the fifth Illinois poet laureate this past November. Born in Greenville, Mississippi, Jackson moved with her family to Chicago at the age of one, and has spent most of her life in the area. The Daily spoke with Jackson about her aspirations as poet laureate, her writing career and her years at Northwestern.
This interview has been edited for clarity and brevity.
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The Daily: You’ve said that poetry is powerful, able to restore hearts and lift spirits. What issues do you hope to address as Illinois poet laureate? Jackson: COVID-19 is the common issue that unites us all throughout the state. I understand that the opioid problem is a real problem downstate. So that’s another issue. And (I hope to send) ambassadors of poetry to rehab centers, as well as schools and community centers and prisons and senior citizen centers.
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The Daily: Gwendolyn Brooks served as Illinois poet laureate from 1968 to her death in 2000. You’ve called her your role model as a poet. Why does she inspire you? Jackson: She was the first Black person to win a Pulitzer Prize of any kind, and she was the first Black woman to be the poet laureate of Illinois. Gwendolyn Brooks as an artist has influenced me because she was so devoted to looking at African American people, Black people, in an authentic way and portraying us in the fullness of our humanity. People tend to see Black people in stereotypes, but she, through-
The Daily: Your 1993 book, “Dark Legs and Silk Kisses: The Beatitudes of the Spinners,” won the Carl Sandburg Award for Poetry. What was the message behind this workthe collectionit? Jackson: “Dark Legs and Silk Kisses” is an almost ten
year long investigation of spiders, as a symbol of Black women, and then all women, because spiders are underappreciated for all that they do. So spider bites can be very serious, but some spiders are good. You know, they get rid of
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the other insects, the pests in a garden, for example. The beauty and the intricacies of their webs are not appreciated; what ordinary Black women do is not appreciated. The Daily: How did your experience at NU impact your writing career? Jackson: If I had not gone to Northwestern, I would not be the poet or writer I am today, and my calling would not have come into its full fruition. At Northwestern, I met my mentor Hoyt W. Fuller, who
was the editor of Negro Digest, later renamed Black World. The magazine pulled together voices of Black people from all over the world, and it was full of ideas. I had my first national poem published in Black World in 1971, when I was still a student at Northwestern. I’ve met people who were so important to me in my writing life at Northwestern. I am very lucky to have had the education at Northwestern that I had, and I had rich friendships that have lasted until I am the age I am now. ◊
D SE “ Written by Rayna Song
Designed by Meher Yeda
I hope to send ambassadors of poetry to rehab centers, as well as schools and community centers and prisons and senior citizen centers.
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out the body of her works, saw us as fully human. At the same time, as an artist, her art history was so rich, because she treated language in a new way. She was highly inventive with words.
Photo courtesy of Margaret Burroughs
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Whipped Evanston delivers delicious custom cupcakes through Instagram
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hen Weinberg juniors Sana Kharbanda and Pranavi Ahuja met at Wildcat Welcome, they never could have imagined they would become business partners. The two became close friends and lived together in Allison Hall their sophomore year. When they both had to move home to Delhi, India due to the pandemic, Ahuja started to bake cupcakes. And Kharbanda had an idea. “It was super cute, because she would send me some (cupcakes) to my house, and they were amazing,” Kharbanda said. “And I was like, we should literally go back to Evanston and sell these.” After moving into an off-campus apartment this fall, the duo launched Whipped Evanston, a custom cake and cupcake business that takes orders entirely from their Instagram account, @whipped_evanston. Whipped takes orders
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through a Google Form linked in their Instagram bio, where customers can choose from either a chocolate or vanilla base (with or without Nutella filling). Then, there is an option to select one of six buttercream frosting flavors. All orders can be hand-delivered for a small fee. The cupcakes come six to a box, but just one is quite filling without being too dense or heavy. And even after traveling through the freezing Evanston weather, the cupcakes arrive in perfect condition — and taste incredible. “We decided to do it as a fun project, just the two of us, because we have a kitchen in our apartment that we can use,” Kharbanda said. “But once we started, people actually loved the cupcakes. So that was super encouraging, and then we kind of just went from there.” Kharbanda said she and her friends had noticed a lack of bakeries in Evanston, especially ones that offered cupcakes or cakes for special occasions. She hopes she and Ahuja can fill that gap. The most impressive aspect of Whipped is how customizable all their treats are. Recently, they made a Lakers-themed cake for a special order. In addition to being able to create occasionspecific cake toppers, Kharbanda and Ahuja are flexible about decorating and go out of their way to make their cakes and cupcakes unique. In terms of dividing labor, Kharbanda said Ahuja handles most of the baking while she runs the business side. But ever since overlychunky
— by Jordan Mangi
Oreos got stuck in a piping bag, Kharbanda’s job has also included proper ly crushing the cookies. “It’s all about improvising and not being kind of held back by mistakes,” she said. Whipped Evanston plans to one day expand, possibly through collaborations with other student businesses or making more than just cake-based desserts. Recently, they hosted a Valentine’s Day fundraiser with Circle of Women Northwestern and donated proceeds to an organization that increases access to girls’ education in Haiti. Even with the hype Whipped has received after only being in operation for just over a month, Kharbanda emphasized that she and Ahuja are really just two college students trying to provide the tasty baked goods selection they saw lacking in the area. “It’s not one of those mass-baked Whole Foods kind of things,” she said. “We actually put in a lot of time making every box and make sure that every box is up to standard. It feels like it’s made with a lot of love. And that might be really cringy or cheesy, but I guess that’s something that’s unique to us.” ◊
Photos courtesy of Sana Kharbanda
Reel Thoughts
n cca Aizi e b e R y —b
Despite critic reviews, Sam Levinson’s “Malcolm & Marie” is a riveting exploration of a failing relationship
tflix Dominic Miller / Ne
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ithin two hours, Sam Levinson’s “Malcolm & Marie,” starring Zendaya and John David Washington, explores emotional warfare, ever changing dynamics and intimate moments — all between a cast of two people. Riding on the high of his critically acclaimed and Emmy-winning hit show “Euphoria,” Levinson dipped his foot into the world of filmmaking as a director and writer with his muse Zendaya and Denzel Washington’s son. The product is the story of Malcolm, a burgeoning director, and his wife, Marie, a recovered drug addict and actress. The film is entirely black and white, a stylistic choice that is a great contrast from the very colorful and vibrant “Euphoria,” and has a very blatant lack of score, presumably so the audience can focus solely on the two stars. The movie takes place at the couple’s home, after they return from Malcolm’s film premiere and Marie is clearly unhappy. Marie is unhinged; she wants a deep love and to have her skill and talent acknowledged, yet accepts behavior she knows is not fair. Malcolm is on the verge of a breakthrough in
his career and is high off life the entire film, while Marie threatens his bubble of euphoria with sobering comments and constant fighting. What can only be described as an emotional boxing match ensues, as both attempt to win a battle of who can say the most hurtful thing to the other. Zendaya has certainly more than proved her worth this past year, shedding her image as a mere Disney child actress and earning her first Emmy for Outstanding Lead Actress in a Drama Series, the youngest to ever do so. Her talent is undeniable in this film as well, with raw emotion oozing out of her every word and action. While Levinson brings out the best in her, this film might not have been such a challenge for her — her character was extremely reminiscent of an older Rue, the unstable teenage drug addict she plays in “Euphoria.” While Zendaya’s portrayal is moving, she is outshined by Washington’s Malcolm. Washington has skyrocketed in the past year, first rising to fame in 2018’s “BlacKkKlansmen” and taking the lead in Christopher Nolan’s highly anticipated “Tenet” last year. Washington fills the entire space of
every scene he is in, going on five to 10 minute long monologues in which he uses a wide range of voice inflections, hand gestures and facial expressions to evoke a plethora of emotions. In many scenes, he mirrors his father, widely acknowledged as one of the greatest actors of all time. Washington dominates the film; his presence, which alone matches that of an entire cast, is exactly what this movie needed. At one point, Washington’s character goes on a tirade against movie critics, touching on the impact of race on film reviews. He complains that as soon as the director is Black, the critique of their work becomes about being Black and how incredible it is that the film tells the story of Black plight, when it might have nothing to do with that. “Malcolm & Marie” did not receive fantastic reviews. My theory is his monologue attacked many critics too personally, leading them to judge the movie extra harshly. While many said the movie was boring and dragged on, I was riveted the entire time. Zendaya and Washington make it hard to look away from this couple fighting to stay together while falling apart at the seams. ◊
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