MERIDIAN locally rooted, worldly minded
FACING THE MUSIC Finding hope and power to overcome violence
FICTION
“MY DARLING GIRL”
Funny Girls Why we love a good memoir
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WAYS TO BOOST YOUR WARDROBE
SUMMER 2015 | ISSUE NO. 1
MERIDIAN
CONTRIBUTORS
locally rooted, worldly minded
Hanna Jacunski Contributing Poet
JOHN FENNELL Publisher
Hanna Jacunski is a senior at the Missouri School of Journalism. She has been scribbling stories and poems from a young age, although many were never published (and will stay that way). She hopes to make a living by writing in some capacity and adding to the poem anthology she'll probably never publish.
ABBIE WENTHE Editor ALLISSA FISHER Editor RACHEL ROWSEY Editor SHANNON ROBB Editor LINDSAY PIERCE Creative Director ALLISON SHAPIRO Designer LIHUA YU Designer Address Meridian Magazine 1100 Walnut St. Unit 1725 Kansas City, MO 64106
Hilary Weaver Contributing Writer Hilary Weaver is a 2014 graduate of the Missouri School of Journalism and lives in New York City. Selected as an editorial intern for the Nation’s spring 2015 internship program, Hilary focuses her work on feminism, reproductive rights and domestic and sexual violence.
Katie Fisher Contributing Writer
Want to be featured in Meridian? Go to meridianmag.com for submission guidelines and other exclusive content.
Katie Fisher studied literature in Oregon and currently lives in Seattle, WA. She is a textile artist, a rescuer of vintage treasures, a kick-ass manager and a loving wife and dog-mom.
Sarah Campbell Contributing Artist, Departments
MERIDIAN Š Copyright Meridian Magazine 2015
Sarah wants to live in a world filled with color, purposeful design and a force field around her keyboard that repels cats. As a multidisciplinary designer who first discovered her love for Photoshop via Neopets in fifth grade, she has designed for Pizza Hut, MedTech Europe, and Main Squeeze.
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CHANGING DIRECTIONS Welcome to Meridian! We embarked on this journey because we realized the magazines we were reading didn’t have the smart, inspiring content we were looking for. If we wanted fiction, we had to turn to literary magazines. If we wanted fashion or lifestyle, we had to maneuver our way through the larger women’s magazines, and although we liked some of the content, they still didn’t have everything we wanted. No publication existed where we felt fully represented or challenged by the content. None of the magazines we subscribed to involved a community of readers motivating each other to work harder and be better. We wanted to change that and build that community. Meridian was born. According to Chinese medicine, a meridian is the set of pathways in the body through which critical energies flow. To us, these critical energies flow from the experiences that shaped us and the ambitions that continuously drive and challenge us. It is on the axis of these ideals that smart, driven, curious women like you navigate through the world. Meridian knows that as worldly minded as we all may be, there’s always something special about returning to our roots. As a salute to where we’ve come from, we’re spotlighting a reader-submitted piece from a particular region of the United States in each issue. So, send us your best work! We are building a community of artists, writers, thinkers. A community of women who aren’t afraid to push the limits, change themselves and change their surroundings. We’re here to inspire, engage and inform. We want to learn from you. Because there is always something more to learn. We invite you to turn through these pages, and we hope you’ll feel inspired. Tap into your roots. Explore your world. Find your own Meridian. Your editors,
Illustration by Sarah Campbell
Shannon, Abbie, Allissa and Rachel
Shannon Robb
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Abbie Wenthe
Allissa Fisher
Rachel Rowsey
SUMMER 2015
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A ROWSEY BY ANY OTHER NAME
FICTION: MY DARLING GIRL
FACING THE MUSIC
Rachel Rowsey tells the story behind her decision to change her last name at age 21.
A gift from her late mother on her eighteenth birthday reminds Charlotte of who she was.
LySaundra Campbell overcame her father’s violence through music and the Batterers Intervention Program.
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PICKING UP THE PIECES
Breakups suck, don’t they? Meridian editor Abbie Wenthe tries to find a new beginning to heal her broken heart.
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Morning Musings Turn those dreaded mornings into the most productive part of your day.
High Performance Hostess Invite your boss and a handful of co-workers to sit at a table other than the one in the conference room. Our tips will ensure your evening is more exciting than that board meeting.
CONSIDER
The Blogging Era Equipping writers with a notepad and a microphone, continue to change the online communication landscape. Ms. Memoirs Finally, we can carry around the musings of some of our favorite ladies in our backpacks, pockets and purses.
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PROSPER Cross Your Teas From black to matcha, we investigated the benefits of sipping this herbal drink and how “tea culture” is seeping its way across the United States.
ENTERTAIN
47 REFINE
Small Scale ‘Scaping Teeny tiny living space making it hard to catch a breath of fresh air? Whether you’re short on space or time, invite a little nature indoors. Invest to Impress Less is more. Here are the essentials every working woman should have hanging in her closet.
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SPOTLIGHT Seattle’s Best Reader Katie Fisher moved to Seattle so her hubby could follow his dreams, and there she found her peace and passion. Plus, her favorite vintage shop, health market and local cafe.
REVIEW
Brand Name vs. Bargain Bodies Boutique fitness studios may be in fashion, but breaking a sweat doesn’t have to mean breaking the bank. Brand name or bargain — find a fitness routine that’s a perfect fit.
The Confessions of Noa Weber If you’ve loved, lost and then kept on loving, this book from Israeli author Gail Hareven is for you. Fear Fun by Father John Misty Although pleasing enough to the ear, Father John Misty’s Fear Fun doesn’t quite live up to his solo debut. Cinderella The clock strikes twelve early on this fairy-tale remake, but the liveaction adaptation still enchants the audience.
58 REMARK
Party of one, please Ladypreneur Jordan Jones tells us the story behind Packed Party and why we should celebrate the small things.
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CONSIDER Our Current Musings
“Regardless of the popular literary trends of the times, write the thing which lies close to your heart.” — Bess Streeter Aldrich, American author
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CONSIDER
Mornings with intention
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h, mornings. I think we all have a love/hate relationship with the annoying sound of the alarm clock jolting us out of a deep sleep and reminding us that, ready or not, it’s time to start another day. Commence the hair/makeup/outfit debacles, and your day is already off to a rocky start. Instead of spending the day recovering from a stressful morning, approach your mornings with intention, and start your day with purpose. Rather than dreading that alarm clock every
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morning, you’ll learn to look forward to it, and see it as an opportunity to focus on yourself and your goals. Set your alarm five minutes earlier, and promise yourself you won’t give in to the snooze button. Spend those extra five minutes meditating on the day ahead: Think about your daily, weekly and overall goals and how you will achieve them. Spend time looking at your Bible or words of encouragement. Remind yourself you have a purpose and to live that purpose each day. Take
a deep breath, roll out your neck and your shoulders, and shake the sleep away. Exhale, feeling refreshed and motivated to take on the day. Each week, set your alarm five minutes earlier until you have developed enough time to write down your daily goals and intentions. Not only will you feel more powerful and accomplished, your positivity will translate to other people. And we could all use a little extra empowerment, right? — Abbie Wenthe
CONSIDER
The blogging era
I
often feel squeamishly uncomfortable after hours spent reading, watching and scrolling through the addictive world of blogs. I liken the bloggers I loyally follow to the imaginary friends I didn’t have as a child. These blogging “friends” really do exist, but they often are several time zones away and have no idea who I, a casual passerby to their site, am. Still, I often am more updated on the lives of these bloggers than I am on the happenings in my hometown. This thought sometimes makes me cringe. But then isn’t this, this sharing to the point of familiarity, just part of the blogging culture? Blogs are in no way a new phenomenon. Blogging platforms such as WordPress and Blogger opened the gates of online journaling and commentary in the early 2000s. More and more breaking news is shared first via Twitter, the microblogging giant founded in 2006. Blogs large and small have become a way for journalists and non-journalists alike to speak their minds and expand their audience. Head over to any news site from The New York Times to a small-town paper, and you are sure to be greeted by opinion and commentary from both in and outside of the news agency in question. But blogging doesn’t just serve as a new medium of communication; the practice also represents an entirely new genre of writing. Personal blogs offer a tone much more conversational and less filtered than what you would find in traditional news media. In this way, blogging fills the space between private journaling and personal conversations. So yes, though we might roll our eyes at the friend who gives her followers a play-by-play of her life via tweets or the friend who documents each meal in the form of a blog, we also need to give them credit. They have something to say, and now they have a way to say it and actually be heard. — Allissa Fisher
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CONSIDER
“I’m so excited that the thoughts and feelings of women are mainstream now.”
Female memoirs I’ve read one memoir written by a man in my life — Stephen King’s “On Writing.” It was an assignment in my creative writing class, and I really did love it, but it never would have occurred to me to read it on my own. In general, I’m just more interested in the lives of women than the lives of men. I’m interested in women who share my struggles, insecurities, passions and goals. I’m interested in how Mindy Kaling told off a stylist who said she was too fat to wear the dress she wanted. I’m interested in how Tina Fey deals with sexism on SNL. I’m interested in how Amy Poehler dealt with her divorce and how she made it in comedy and how she feels about cucumbers and open-toed shoes and ombre fabrics. I can find a lot of these things out by reading the memoirs these women have written, and I have. I’m so excited that the thoughts and feelings of women are mainstream now. The memoirs of female comedians are popular because these women have absolutely stolen our hearts with their openness and honesty, and we feel like we really know them. That’s brave as hell. Thanks for all that you do, ladies. Let’s all take a page from their books and step out of our own comfort zones to do something for the good of women everywhere. — Rachel Rowsey
LEADING LADY LITERATURE SINCE 2005 The Year of Magical Thinking Joan Didion
2005
Wild Cheryl Strayed
Just Kids Patti Smith
2006
I Feel Bad About My Neck Nora Ephron 12
Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? Mindy Kaling
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2010
2011
Bossypants Tina Fey
2012
Yes Please Amy Poehler
2014
Girl Walks Into a Bar... Rachel Dratch
CONSIDER
WE NEED TO BE CLOSER You are a tiny little brownstone, crumbling and patched together and still charming me to giggles. You are calling me bug and kissing my head and wrapping yourself around me. You are my morning coffee and the sun slowly inching its way across my bedroom floor. I told you I loved you only, and you told me you loved me too, words warm and whole and whispered. The neighborhood is falling apart, and they’re tearing down the old record store where you first kissed me, but we are in our bed in our brownstone, tangled together and laughing as we hold happy hearts in our open palms. — HJ
Illustration by Sarah Campbell
PROSPER Body, Mind & Soul
“You, yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection.” — the Buddha, spiritual leader
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PROSPER
tea time
That cherished cup of tea during a moment of downtime does more for our health than just ease our whirling minds By Allissa Fisher
A
udrey Hepburn and C.S. Lewis believed in the power of a good cup of tea. Lewis was known to perpetually have tea as his companion, and the lovely Ms. Hepburn famously mused, when you have nobody you can make a cup of tea for, life is officially over. By now, the nearly 4,000-year-old drink has seeped its way into most every society. But why drink it? Besides merely being a soothing drink, different types of tea have health properties that make doctors smile.
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CROSS YOUR TEAS GREEN
Because of its light, manipulable flavor, green tea comes in many blends and variations. Mint, jasmine, lavender and sencha are a few of the most popular flavors found both prebagged and in loose-leaf form. Tea drinkers around the world praise green tea for its cancer-preventing potential and for its ability to aid in weight loss. Research scientist Christopher Ochner claims substituting green tea in place of a can of soda every day saves over 50,000 calories, or 15 pounds of fat, over a one-year period. Also, green tea is relatively low in caffeine, making the drink a valuable addition to a de-stress routine.
WHITE
Low in caffeine and the least processed of all teas, white tea blends are often praised for their delicate sweetness and powerful antioxidant punch. The leaves of white and green tea actually grow from the same plant, Camellia sinensis, but the leaves used in white tea are plucked earlier and processed less than those used in green tea. Because the leaves of white tea retain the highest amount of antioxidants, experts argue this variety is the healthiest of herbal drinks. Weight loss activation, cardiovascular health protection and cancer risk reduction are the trademark benefits of this impressive tea.
BLACK
Black tea leaves are also harvested from Camellia sinensis, but an oxidation process transforms the leaves from light green to a deep brown color. Black tea contains the highest level of caffeine found among tea varieties, making it an excellent choice when looking to increase energy and alertness. The variety contains a substance called polyphenol, which kills cavity, plaque and bad breath-causing bacteria found in the mouth. High levels of chai, English breakfast and Earl Grey consumption make black tea the most popular of tea varieties.
OOLONG
Oolong tea blends the qualities of black and green tea leaves into a fruity, fragrant drink. Oolong is especially known for two of its antioxidants, flavanol and flavonol, which are known to reduce cell damage. The tea is most commonly served as an accompaniment to meals at Chinese restaurants, perhaps because the tea is known to aid in digestion. Oolong is most commonly found blended with rose petals, coconut or citrus fruits.
YERBA MATE
While technically a cousin to tea, yerba mate is commonly grouped with traditional teas for its similar health benefits. Packed with vitamins, minerals, beneficial compounds, caffeine and antioxidants, the drink is quickly becoming a popular choice among the health-conscious. Yerba mate is made from the South American rainforests’ holly trees and has a distinctive earthy taste. The host of a long and ever-growing list of benefits, yerba mate is said to help with everything from depression to digestive issues.
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PROSPER
Find your fitness fit Find a gym that’s the perfect fit for your body and your wallet By Shannon Robb Boutique fitness studios are on the rise, and the trend is signaling a move away from big box gyms and fitness clubs. Along with the extra cost and personalized atmosphere of these studios, there is a feeling of eliteness that accompanies a brand-name calorie burn. But fitness, like fashion, is subjective. It’s about knowing what works best for you and your body type. If that means clipping into a trendy pair of cycling shoes, may the wind (that is, studio air conditioning) be at your tail and the road ahead of you be smooth. Or if trying on a different machine each day is more your style, that’s okay, too. There are plenty of options to find your perfect fitness fit.
BOUTIQUE Monthly memberships tend to be pricier, but some let you pay per session. For sport-specific or more niche exercises, this might be a cheaper option than big gym memberships, depending on how often you attend. Boutiques also tend to have fewer locations, and the highest concentrations are on the coasts. The rest of the country has joined in, however, and most cities now have their own boutique offerings.
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GYM
WHAT IS IT?
WHERE IS IT?
SoulCycle
Indoor cycling combined with hand weights and choreogaphy for a full-body workout
New York, New Jersey, Connecticut, Massachusetts, Maryland, Florida, California
$30+ depending on location and $3 for shoe rentals if you don’t have your own
New York, Massachusetts, Tennessee, Florida, California, Norway, UK
$20—$40 for one class depending on location; multiple-class, weekly monthly, and 6- or 12-month memberships also available depending on location (e.g. $224 12-month contract in Nashville)
Barry’s Bootcamp
Hour-long sessions that combine treadmill routines and strength training; routines vary each day of the week to keep you on your toes
Awaken: Gymnastics Inspired Fitness
Various courses inspired by gymnastics techniques, strength training and stretching to treat injuries and increase mobility and flexibility
Denver
Bodybar Studios
50-minute workouts that combine Pilates with highintensity cardio training
Dallas and Plano, Texas
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COST
$25 drop-in; $139/month for unlimited annual membership (unlimited number of classes per week) $30 for one class; $185/ month for 12-month unlimited package
BIG GYM These generally require a larger first-time payment, followed by smaller monthly payments. For most gyms, these fees are your pass to amenities: locker rooms and showers, and often classes, trainers, pools and tanning or spa services. (Prices and amenities vary by location.) A big gym membership is more of a choose-your-own-path experience through rows of cardio and weight machines, but many include personal trainer services to get you started or keep you motivated. GYM
WHERE IS IT?
COST
24 Hour Fitness
Over 400 gyms nationwide, most open 24 hours
Basic membership $49.99 one-time initiation fee + $39.99 annual fee + monthly fees
Group classes; suspension training; lap pools, whirlpools, saunas and steam rooms
Locations throughout the US and Canada
$99 initiation fee + $29.95 monthly fee
Group and specialty classes; personal trainers; indoor heated pools, whirlpools and saunas; basketball and racquetball courts
Locations in 38 states and 22 countries
$20—$30 start-up fee for basic 12-month contract plan depending on location + bi-weekly dues
Group classes; cycling studios; personal and functional training; basketball and racquetball courts; smoothie bars
LA Fitness
Gold’s Gym
OTHER PERKS
A BIT OF BOTH If you want the broader variety of exercise options and classes that big gyms provide but the high-end atmosphere of boutique studios, clubs such as Equinox are a good option. Just be aware that the price tag looks more like the boutique studios than the more budget-friendly big gyms.
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ESSAY
R A
Meridian’s Rachel Rowsey tells the story behind her decision to change her last name to her mother’s maiden name at age 21.
owsey By Any Other Name
When I was in fourth grade, I decided I wanted to be a writer. People were always telling me I was a good writer, and I kept getting mail from Duke’s youth writing program, and that seemed like enough to decide my future. Immediately after choosing that path, I decided that pursuing a career in writing novels was too impractical, so I decided to go into journalism. Fast-forward 12 years, and I’m about to graduate from the country’s first (and some say best) school of journalism. I’ve always been one to make decisions pretty early, but I didn’t realize until recently how early I became the person I am today. I’m Rachel. I’m a journalist (fourth grade). I’m a vegetarian (sixth grade). I’m a feminist (birth?). Before I even understood what feminism was, I balked at my seventh grade language arts teacher always asking for “big, strong men” to lift 20-pound boxes of paper. It’s gross then, and it’s gross now, Ms. Donnell. When I was in eighth
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grade, I wrote my first research paper on the importance of easily available contraception (side note: I got a 100). Throughout my adolescence, I cringed at being forced to wear dresses to church while my brothers had the freedom that pants provided. You try playing basketball behind the church in a floor-length polyester skirt. My entire life, I’ve known that I was going to eventually change my name. Women get married; women change their names. That’s just how things are. Practically, it didn’t bother me. I didn’t really enjoy the sound of my last name. People were always pronouncing it wrong. The combination of letters was never appealing to me. Classmates and teachers were always bending it to sound like the title of a dark musical starring Johnny Depp. I thought about different names that would suit me better. “Maybe I’ll marry someone named John Carson. Then I’ll be Rachel Carson. Like the scientist.” Every time I had a crush, I tried their names on for size. Rachel This, Rachel That,
“My entire life, I’ve known that I was going to eventually change my name.” — Rachel Rowsey
Rachel Gordon-Levitt. Whatever. new marriage, she adopted a new name. Get married, As I got older, I began to see the tradition of women change your name. Change husbands, change identities. changing their names upon marriage through more Change yourself. She got sick of it. After she divorced her critical eyes. I’m going to change my name just because third husband, she decided to just keep the name she had unknown powers-that-be have deemed it necessary? I at the time. She got married again, but she wasn’t about wasn’t the first person to see to walk back down to the this problem. Some women courthouse and change her chose to keep their last name a fourth time. It was in STORM SADNESS names after marrying, some that moment that I made my hyphenated, some picked decision. A concept that had I want to be solid like mountains new names. My middle been floating around in my I climbed when I couldn’t stop crying, school enrichment teacher head for probably a decade the day I got lost in the woods near said she and her husband became reality. I texted my my house and prayed to the flipped through a phone mom. translucent green spirits book and picked the last “You know how I’ve in every leaf above my head. name they liked the best: been wanting to change my Butts. None of this seemed name to Rowsey? I’m going I want to be climbing like the ivy like a solution to me. to do it.” making itself up the side of my childhood I’d always loved my Adrenaline. I told my home, tendrils scattering like human mother’s maiden name group about my decision. I veins across the brick walls, (even though the term was googling name-change clinging with every cell when I tried to “maiden name” grossed me policies in Alabama on my peel them down for crowns. out a little). It flowed right phone. My 4G was being along with mine. It sounded really slow. My mom texted I want to be moving like the river I fell in love with, journalistic. Memorable. me back. deer tracks and swinging ropes and never happier Elegant. The name has been “Okay.” to have nature let me into on the tip of my tongue More adrenaline. I a little pocket of her most giggly side, for most of my life. I was didn’t think she would be even if for only two days. jealous of my cousins who upset. Is she upset? I can’t — HJ bore the name. One of them have her mad at me. Is she told me she was sad she’d mad? Oh god. have to lose it when she got “Is that okay? Are you married, and she hoped to have a son she could give it okay with that? I won’t do it if you don’t want me to.” to as a first name so it would live on. My mom is a pretty minimalist texter, so I often I liked that idea. I liked it a lot. I kind of wanted to think she’s mad at me because of how short she is via steal it for myself. text. After an excruciating seven or eight minutes, she Last March, I went to Sisseton, South Dakota, on responded. She wasn’t mad. She told me she understood an alternative spring break trip. We were there working and that she supported me. with Wa’can’ga Sweetgrass Inc., a Native American Okay, so I’m going to do this. But when? From what domestic violence shelter. It was an incredible week, but I could gather from answers.com, it looked like I could do one of the moments that stands out the most to me was it in person or via snail mail. I didn’t really trust snail mail. a discussion we had with one of the women about her And I didn’t know how long the process was going to take. name. She’d been married several times, and with each So I decided to do it when I was home over the summer.
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It was really easy. I got my birth certificate, my explanations. But I’ve never really given one. social security card and my military ID. I made copies of “It’s a long story.” everything at Staples. I left my ID in the copier. I went “I wanted to.” back to Staples. I wrote a check to the government for “I felt like it.” $37. I filled out two forms. I handed it all “It’s kind of personal.” to a lady in a cubicle at the courthouse. It seems like a deflection, but it’s “Lots of And it was done. really just the truth. I could give my people have “But why did you do it?” semi-long-winded feminist analysis of been demanding People have been asking me this how names are passed down in Western explanations. a lot, which makes sense. Something society, but that’s not even the entire changed; they want an explanation. reason. I wanted to be comfortable with But I’ve never Names are a pretty public thing. But my identity and not feel as though it really given here’s the problem: it feels really was subject to change. I wanted to draw one.” personal. I know that my name changed inspiration from a source of female on people’s computer screens and class power in my life. I wanted to have rosters and sign-in sheets. I know it’s confusing to a name that sounded cool. I wanted to take action on get an email from someone you know with a different something I’d wanted for years. name at the top. Lots of people have been demanding I wanted to change my name. So I did.
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FICTION
My
Darling Girl Story and Illustrations by Shannon Robb
The words scrawled on the top of the envelopes in my mom’s handwriting — Happy birthday, my darling girl!!! — didn’t match my dad’s mood as he handed them over to me. It was almost aggressive, as if being within a few feet of me or having to look me in the eye for more than a few seconds was just too much to bear. My mother’s script, with its exclamation points at the end, exuded the same joy as when she spoke, and I could practically hear the music that always accompanied her voice in the soft curves of the pen on paper. My father, on the other hand, was gruffly pushing the bundle on me, trying to hurry along the process of this obligatory “celebration” as quickly as possible. He hadn’t cut himself off from me so completely that he wouldn’t join my aunt and me to celebrate my eighteenth birthday, but it wasn’t exactly a party with him in the room. His distance was something I’d grown accustomed to during the previous three months. We walked around the house as if on tiptoes, quietly skirting around each other, communicating only the necessities and trying not to make any sudden movements or openly reveal our sadness. “Thanks, Dad.” My voice sounded timid in my ears. I hadn’t sounded timid, especially not when talking to my parents, in months, maybe even years. But things were different now. I just wanted him to wrap me in a bear hug and spin me around like he had when I was turning eight and wearing the new birthday dress my
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mom had hand-picked, instead of eighteen and wearing the weight of his disappointment and my guilt. “Happy birthday, Charlotte,” my dad grunted. He looked at me for a second longer, then turned his back and walked to the living room. I heard the squeak of his recliner rocking gently as he settled into it, followed by a sigh and then the sound of the baseball game from the TV. I watched the blue glow cast shadows on the wall through the doorway for a minute before remembering Aunt Claudia was still in the kitchen with me. She was rinsing the last of the soap bubbles off the cake pan, but she was watching me. Her eyes were sympathetic, and her lips twisted to one side in that sad sort of smile that a lot of people had been giving me lately. The kind of smile that is usually accompanied with a sigh just before they offer an apology that can’t do anything. Claudia shut off the water and leaned up against the sink. “He’ll come around, Charlie. He’s hurting, too—” I shook my head and jumped in before she could finish. I was on the verge of tears, and I knew if we talked about it now, I might break. “Thank you for the cake, Aunt Claudia. And thank you for coming over. It’s been a great birthday.” I plastered on a smile, hoping she’d either believe it or at least pretend to and move on.
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“Of course, honey,” she said, taking the hint and moving to wrap her arms around me. “Love you lots.” She rested her head on top of mine, and I let myself sink into her a bit. “So, what’s the plan now? Your birthday’s not over yet. You going to meet up with some friends?” “Uhh, yeah. I think so. I think the celebration here is finished.” I glanced toward the living room and was thankful she couldn’t see. “Unless you want to stay longer,” I added, a little hopeful she’d say yes. I hadn’t enjoyed going out with my friends recently as much as I once did. “No, no, you should go hang out with your friends. You may be a year older now, but you’re still young, and you’ve indulged your old aunt enough for one night. Go have some fun. I’ll just go say goodbye to your dad. Love you, girly. Your mom does, too.” I nodded my thanks into her shoulder and took a deep breath to compose myself before she could see my face again. After I heard the front door close, I pushed my half-eaten plate of cake to the side and turned my attention back to the envelopes on the counter in front of me. The bundle was tied neatly together with a pearly white satin ribbon, too delicate and perfect to have been tied by my father, which meant my mother had done this for me months ago, before all the truly bad things happened. Before the hospitals and the tests, the crying and the regret. My throat was starting to feel tight. Something about having this piece of my mother sprung on me so suddenly was making me almost too nervous to start opening them, but letting them just sit there staring at me, taunting me, was just as bad.
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I pulled the stack closer and centered it on the placemat. I ran my finger along the edge of the stack, counting as each corner passed against it. Twenty total, one for each year of my life, it seemed, plus two extra. I tugged gently at the knot, and the satin slid easily against itself, falling away from the stack. I let my finger trace the script on the front of the first envelope before turning it over and pulling it open. I took a deep breath to steel myself before pulling out the letter inside. It was short, dated about four months before I was born. To my daughter, It feels so great to finally be able to say that. Not just baby but daughter. My daughter. The doctor told us today when we could see you on the little screen. I could see the smile in her words as she wrote “daughter.” I remembered that smile, her lips upturned at the corners and light in her eyes. It had been there when I won first place at the science fair in third grade. And whenever I would bow at the end of a piano recital. When I would look out the kitchen window early on a Saturday morning and see her sitting on the back porch looking out at the garden, blanket around her shoulders and both hands wrapped around her coffee mug. I certainly hadn’t been the source of that smile in a long time, but now that I was thinking about it, nothing had really made her smile like that in those last few months. I could already feel the tears threatening to find their way to the surface, but I kept reading. We don’t know what your name is yet, but it will be perfect, you just wait and see. Just like you will be perfect. Only a few more months, and I will finally be able to hold you in my arms. You are truly
a blessing, my darling daughter, to your father and I both. I already love you with all my heart. Your mom Reading her hopes that I would be perfect stung. I knew I’d let her down, but reading that line made me realize just how big of a disappointment I must have actually been in the end. One letter in, and I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but I was already addicted to hearing her voice in my head again, so I picked up the next envelope. Happy birthday, my darling girl! Can you believe it’s your birthday? It’s finally here. You’re finally here. I’m exhausted, but I can’t sleep because I’m too excited. Your dad is sleeping in a chair in the corner of the room. You’re sleeping next to me, and let me tell you, my girl, you are beautiful. The prettiest baby I’ve ever seen. I might be a little biased, but I still think you have all those other babies beat by a long shot. You have your father’s eyes. And I so hope you got his compassion as well. We got lucky with him, Charlotte; he’s a great guy. You couldn’t ask for a better father. I glanced back toward the living room where the game was still playing, but where I could now hear my father softly snoring from his recliner. She was right, I knew; he’d been angry with me lately, but I’d given him so much reason to be. Although for your sake, I hope you got my quick wit, not his cheesy sense of humor. Sleep well, my darling girl. It’s been an exciting day, my new favorite day of the year. I love you, Charlotte! The letters got longer, my mom recounting all of her favorite moments, and I was amazed at what she included, memories I’d long since forgotten but that she’d felt were important enough to
“I could see the smile in her words as she wrote “daughter.” I remembered that smile, her lips upturned at the corners and light in her eyes.”
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“I was sobbing by the time I reached the last envelope. I was scared to read what was inside. I felt guilty, but I’d made it this far.”
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mark that year of my life. You are brilliant, Charlie. You won the science fair, and I think you are brilliant. It certainly wasn’t our doing. Your father and I are rubbish at science, but not you. It was one of those volcanoes, the papier-mâché kind that explode when you add baking soda. It’d been good enough for third grade standards and apparently it had exceeded my mother’s, but I hardly would have called it brilliant. It made my heart swell to think that she had, though. I realized this year, Charlie, that you got your father’s compassion, just as I hoped you would. You came home crying one day because the older boys were being mean to the new girl in your class. You asked how they could be like that, and the next day you invited Jillian over for a sleepover because you wanted to make sure she had friends. You have a bigger heart than I would think your little, ten-year-old body could hold, and you teach me how to have a bigger heart myself everyday. Thinking about it now, I remembered the day I came home crying about Jillian clearly. Jillian was a scrawny kid who wore glasses that were too big for her face, and her hair stuck out all over the place because she could never be bothered to sit still long enough and smooth it back. The same boys who would be admiring her five years later delighted in picking on the goofy new girl. From the moment we went up to my room after her dad dropped her off, Jillian and I had been best friends. Until I’d started to push her away the same as I had my parents and then ignored her completely when she started to talk to my mom behind my back, claiming she was worried about me. I’d treated her like shit, but I could also clearly remember the day before my mom’s funeral, when my dad knocked on my door to tell me Jillian was on the phone. In mumbled words from beneath my covers, I asked him to tell her I’d call her back, and then I never did. Now my heart was sad with longing not only for my mom, but also for the friend I’d lost. I doubted she’d want to resume any semblance of a friendship now, so I pushed aside thoughts of it and picked up a new letter. Each year was filled with these stories and my mom’s remarks about the “great” things I’d done, though most of them sounded like any little kid to me. Her pride and love were evident, and
that only made me sadder. I didn’t want He’s scared. Scared of being alone, scared of to read the last year’s letter, but I was losing us both. closing in on it. I was sure it couldn’t You know I haven’t agreed with the possibly read the same way. I hadn’t way you’ve chosen to live your life recently, done anything to deserve words filled but I still believe with all my heart that you with love. are brilliant and compassionate and funny. I’d snuck out to go to parties and You just have to find your way to that girl skipped class to get high behind the again. I wish I could be there when you do. gas station down the street. I’d fought I can’t demand that you change relentlessly with my father. And, worst because that’d be too much pressure, and of all, I feared I was the reason she’d as much as I’ve wanted to instantly fix gotten so sick, beyond any chance of everything, I know that you have to make recovery. your mistakes. Just remember that your I knew it wasn’t actually my fault; father is there and that I love you forever. I didn’t put the cancer in her body, but You have been the greatest blessing of my I certainly didn’t help. She’d been too life, Charlotte, even in the difficult times. focused on I could barely me. She’d see through the tears show up as I read the final to teacher words of the letter. conferences My dad’s snoring “I knew it wasn’t my even when and the sound of fault; I didn’t put she wasn’t the news continued the cancer in her feeling well, in the background. body, but I certainly trying to Folding the letter didn’t help.” figure out and carrying it with how to me, I walked into motivate me the living room. I to get back grabbed the blanket on track. from the arm of the She’d stay up until three in the morning couch and spread it over my father, waiting for me to get home, even though knowing he’d rather sleep the night in she was exhausted, and she’d listen to his chair than be woken up. my insults and slamming doors when As I tucked it near him, I leaned I finally did. Because I was selfish, she over and hugged him. didn’t notice the lump or pay attention “I’m sorry, daddy,” I whispered. “I to the pain until it was too late. love you.” By the time she finally went to I sat down at the end of the couch the doctor, the cancer had spread. They and pulled my feet up underneath me, said it’d most likely been spreading holding my mom’s letter close to my quietly for a long time, that it hadn’t chest and watching the images change started exhibiting itself until it was on the news without really listening to already severe. But that didn’t stop me what was being said. from thinking she might’ve had a shot My phone buzzed suddenly. at getting better if I’d been a better Charlie! Happy birthday girl. where are daughter. you? meet us at the gas station luke’s got a I was sobbing by the time I surprise for you reached the last envelope. I was scared I turned the volume down on my to read what was inside. I felt guilty, but phone and set it, facedown, on the coffee I’d made it this far. table, but I kept looking at it. I picked The writing on the front of the it back up and opened a new message, envelope was shakier but still beautiful. typing in a number that I hoped was There was still a sense of grace in the still Jillian’s. Whether the message letters, a last bit of strength. reached her or not, I might have been It’s almost your 18th birthday, sending it out into a void, but I couldn’t darling girl, and I don’t know if I’ll be fix everything instantly, and it was there. Please know that I want to be. I something. want to share every moment with you, Looking up, I was surprised to but if I can’t, I wish you the happiest of see my dad’s eyes were open. He wasn’t birthdays for all the years to come. smiling, but he seemed a little softer, My tears fell harder as I read her somehow, than he had in ages. words, still loving even when I was being “Happy birthday, Charlie. I love awful. you, my darling girl.” Go easy on your dad, okay, my girl?
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ESSAY
Picking up the Pieces Meridian editor Abbie Wenthe tries to find a new beginning to heal her broken heart.
I
was never the girl with that amazing relationship everyone is jealous of until my sophomore year of college. That’s when I met David. From the first moment, we were drawn to each other; I felt butterflies in my stomach, and my heart leaped to my throat whenever I saw him. We became friends quickly and started dating about two months later. Everything about our relationship seemed perfect. We had so much in common, we didn’t fight, and we were constantly laughing and having fun. When he gave me three roses for our three-month anniversary, I knew he was one of those once-in-a-lifetime guys. I wanted him to give me four, five, six and so many more roses. He left me sweet
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notes and always told me, “You mean the world to me.” For my 21st birthday, David took me to a local winery. We spent the entire day sipping wine, eating meat and cheese, talking and laughing. That day is one of my favorite memories of our relationship. I love going out to the bars and having fun with my friends, but I also love staying in and watching a movie with a glass of wine. David knew that, and I could always count on him to leave the bars early with me to go get copious amounts of Chinese food and bring it all back home to eat while watching Netflix. Not everything was perfect. David’s mom died a few weeks before our oneyear anniversary, and that was one of
the hardest experiences I’ve ever been through. I don’t know how to comfort people; I never know what to say when terrible things happen to others. I didn’t really know what to do for David besides hug him, cry with him and talk about all the great memories he had with her. As awful as it was, her death brought us closer and made our relationship stronger. The only thing that ever made me doubt our future together was David’s dream to be a Navy SEAL. I didn’t want a military relationship because I didn’t think I could handle it. I wanted a life like the one my parents had given me — my mom stayed home with my sister and me, and my dad was there every night after work. I don’t want
to constantly worry if my husband will make it home. Because David’s my best friend, and I love him so much, I thought I could accept his career path. I hoped that somehow we would make it work. I even looked up jobs around the San Diego area to see what kinds of options I would have if I ever moved out there with him. I thought David would be beside me for the rest of my life. I had plans for us. I knew where I hoped he’d propose to me. I knew that I wanted to have kids with him, to grow old with him. I worked his dream of becoming a SEAL into my own dreams and tried to envision my life as a SEAL wife. We started to realize our relationship wasn’t going to work out. My wake-up call came after reading Phil Bronstein’s Esquire article, “The Shooter.” It made me realize SEALs are gone all of the time and are trained to put their team above their family. This makes sense, but it’s not the life I want. And David realized putting me through that life wasn’t fair to me and the career that I’ve worked so hard for. So we did the one thing I never thought would happen: we broke up. This breakup was my first real breakup. I don’t count the one with the high school boyfriend I broke up with over the phone. Neither David nor I wanted to breakup, but we knew that a future together was so unclear and unlikely. We both cried — sobbed, actually. I cried on the phone to my parents for almost an hour. I had plans to go out that night to celebrate the end of the semester with some friends, and my parents encouraged me to go out still. I’m so glad they did because it was exactly what I needed. My friends were great. They asked if I was okay and bought me drinks, but they didn’t pry or try to fix anything. They kept my mind off my broken heart during the time we were at the bar. When I went home, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I read through all of the birthday, anniversary, Valentine’s Day and “just because” cards David had ever given me. I read the note he left on my pillow one time, and the sticky notes he hid in my flashcards to make me smile while I studied. I read the words on those cards over and over again, not believing our relationship was actually over. It was the absolute worst night of
my life followed by the worst months of my life. I was a wreck during the week between our breakup and Christmas. I couldn’t eat and cried almost all of the time. I went on a trip to Colorado with some friends about three weeks after we broke up. I almost didn’t go, but I convinced myself I needed to get out and try to have some fun. For the most part, the trip was great and kept my mind off
REMINDERS TO BOTH OF US I am not your magic woman. Not your caged lover. Not your tangled sheets queen. Do not put me in your boxes. Do not nail me down. I am a shot in the dark. Screaming with the pain of living, the pain of loving things that die. I am a girl with a gift she doesn’t know what to do with. Ink stains on my heart. Words trapped in my fingers. I am kicking doors closed, Kissing you back, Swimming out to sea. I am gypsy hearted, moon beamed, sun soaked. I am my own madness. — HJ David for small chunks at a time. The low point, however, came when we went out for pizza after a long day of skiing. I was exhausted and irritated from my sad attempts at skiing, and the restaurant was playing country music. David always played country music. When Rascal Flatts’ “My Wish” came on, I completely lost it right at our table in the middle of the restaurant. I’m glad I have great friends who weren’t weird about my tears and tried to help me stop thinking about him. I still have a hard time listening to country music. Besides being sad, I am furious with him. He had this SEAL dream for about
three years before we met, and he had to have known the implications of this career. How could he have committed to this relationship if he knew it wasn’t going to last? How could he give up an amazing relationship for a career that could kill him? When I went to see him about a month after the breakup, I saw his bare bedroom wall and felt like I had been punched. For our second Valentine’s Day together, I wrote what I loved about him on almost 40 pink and blue sticky notes and stuck them to his wall in the shape of “I HEART U.” He never took them down, and I had grown accustomed to seeing them on his wall. There are so many times when I feel like the future is behind me. I find myself thinking, “How could life possibly get any better than what it has been these past few years?” These are the times I turn to my roommates, friends and family for support. Being single has helped me rediscover how amazing my friends are and all of the great things they are doing with their lives. I’ve been able to reconnect with people I’ve drifted away from because I spent so much of my time with David. My friends have poured out so much love for me and helped me realize that the future isn’t behind me. I know I have a great future ahead of me, even though it scares the crap out of me. I still feel an overwhelming sadness that consumes me to the core. Going from planning a future with David to trying to comprehend what my life will look like without him is heartbreaking. I still can’t imagine my future without David, and I can’t imagine loving anyone else. But I have to believe that someday, I will be okay. I’m learning to take back my independence and to be alone. I’m trying to reconnect with that high school Abbie who was just fine without a boyfriend. About a month after the break up, I had coffee with two of my close college friends. We were brainstorming concepts and ideas for a magazine that eventually turned into Meridian. We all sipped our coffee, laughing about our terrible ideas and feeling giddy about our better ideas. As we all walked our separate ways away from the coffee shop, I felt a sense of peace come over me. I hadn’t thought about David during that entire meeting; I was laughing and focusing on my future. I walked to my bus a little lighter that day while thinking to myself, I will be okay.
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PROFILE
music
Facing the Ending a cycle of abuse By Hilary Weaver
A
t 3:20 p.m. on Friday, April 26, 2002, Sandra Campbell was doing laundry in the basement of her brother and sister- in-law’s home. She moved there just five days before after a violent dispute with her husband, Nathan, who lives in their home just a few blocks away. Sandra’s in-laws, Rochanda and Craig Campbell, were not home. Sandra’s two older children, LySaundra and Nathan Jr., were upstairs and her youngest, Malaysia, was sleeping in the guest bedroom with her cousin. The washing machine made a low rumble and suddenly Sandra heard a loud boom ahead and her husband’s voice. “Where’s your momma?” Sandra’s husband entered through the garage door of his sister’s Jackson County, Mo., home. He pushed past his son with a shotgun in hand. Sandra remembers hearing her husband coming down the stairs. This is the event that will forever mark Sandra and her children as victims of domestic violence. “All of the sudden, I just heard a loud bang above me,” she says. “My heart just dropped. It wasn’t normal. He threatened me with the gun and he was like, “Bitch, you’re gonna die tonight.” Nathan Jr., 12 at the time, watched his parents leave the house and saw his father force his mother over the back fence adjacent to the Campbell’s home at 9022 Sycamore. “My mother was screaming,” he says. “She
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was pleading with him, saying, ‘No, no!’ I remember watching her get dragged out of the house and over the fence.” All that Sandra remembers is that she wanted to turn back time. “I had a feeling that I was going to die, just like he told me. I had never seen that side of him before. I prayed, ‘Get me out of this. Get us out of this.’” From the guest bedroom of her aunt and uncle’s home, 10-year-old LySaundra called the police just as her policeman father had taught her. The irony was he was the subject of her call. Kansas City police officers arrived, including Chelly Pfeifer, a sergeant at the time, who had worked with Nathan when he was a corrections officer in Kansas City. A hostage officer for more than five years, Pfeifer had experience with volatile situations, but none like this. Now a captain at the Shoal Creek Patrol Division outside of Kansas City, she can still remember traumatic hostage situations like the Campbell’s. “It’s a little different because it was hard to remain unbiased. When you don’t know someone, you’re starting at ground zero,” she says. “In this case, I knew he wasn’t happy about how life turned out because of his career.” The officers quickly pulled aside the Campbell children as they set up the protocol for an Operation 100, or hostage situation. The hostage van where Pfeifer and her partner, Robert Gibbs, were located was a few blocks away from the roped-off house. “I remember they came to my brother and me and asked if either of us knew the blueprint of the house,” LySaundra says. “I remember drawing out my room.” A few feet away from where the children were huddled with their aunt, Pfeiffer was on the phone. She wanted to talk to Nathan. “Nate, this is Chelly Pfeifer. Do you remember me?” “I don’t know you. No.” “What happened to you over the course of the last few years?” “What happened to what?” “I don’t know the story.” “’Cause my wife charged me with attempted rape and ah, I had to resign…” Eventually, Nathan warmed to Pfeifer, and she became the only person he wanted to speak to as he held his wife inside the house. “It was almost like reverse Stockholm syndrome,” Pfeifer says. “I was his lifeline. He didn’t want anyone else. He just wanted to talk to me; there
was that attachment there.” For the next 12 hours, the conversation lagged as Pfeifer tired and had to hand off the phone to the other officer in the van for a few moments. “I had just finished working a full day at the D.A.R.E. unit,” Pfeifer. “It was my week to work the hostage calls, so I was so tired. Eventually, I had to stop to take a bathroom break and get a drink of water.” Soon Pfeifer got back on the line and remained Nathan’s main contact as she tried to get him to surrender. Several times, Pfeifer asked Nathan what he and Sandra were doing. “Having sex,” he said. Nathan had handcuffed Sandra to the bed and forced her to have sex at least more than two times, as she recalls. Sandra pleaded with Pfeifer to let her talk to her children.
“At first, I hated him with the deepest hate you could have for somebody.”
says.
“You have to come out,” Pfeifer
“I know I can come out, but he won’t let me.” Throughout the conversation, Pfeifer talked with Nathan about his career as a police officer and what happened. He grew quiet and then angry. Inside the house, Sandra pleaded with Nathan not to kill himself. When he asked her to help shoot him, she tried to talk to him about other things. “I would not have pulled that trigger,” she says. “So whatever he wanted to hear, I told him.” Sandra remembers drinking from a glass of brown liquid and growing sleepy throughout the hours they spent in the house. Pfeifer says whenever she was not on the phone with Nathan, she was anxious to get him back on the line. Finally, as the two grew tired, Pfeifer coaxed Nathan out of the house. It was nearly 4 a.m. “You coming out?” “Yeah.” “It was high-stress; I was very worried for a majority of that scenario,” she says. “I didn’t want it to end violently either by our hand or his.”
Although no one died that night, the family walked away from the scene broken. Nathan was taken to prison in Kansas City, and Sandra was taken to the hospital where she was examined for minor injuries and bruising. Nathan remained at the Jackson County Jail for the remainder of the year under charges for domestic and sexual violence. LySaundra looks back on the emotions she felt in those months. “At first, I hated him with the deepest hate you could have for somebody,” she says. Her father tried to correspond with her and sent her a birthday card that read, “I love you no matter what you feel about me right now.” “I didn’t talk to him until mid or early November,” she says. “I was angry at anybody. Everyone got the worst of it.” On Dec. 30, 2002, LySaundra’s Aunt Robin, Nathan’s older sister, picked her up from a Girl Scout retreat and was silent in the car. Suddenly, LySaundra knew why. “She just said, ‘Your dad took his life.’ I sat there and cried. That’s all I remember.’” Later, LySaundra learned that her dad had tied tube socks around his neck and the sink in his cell to hang himself. He had been awaiting his trial and decided not to wait anymore. “I had mixed emotions,” she says. “Sometimes I was crying. Sometimes I was angry.” As the days progressed, more of the Campbell family learned the details of Nathan’s death. He had nine siblings, which made for what LySaundra remembers as a crowded funeral. “My cousin wrote a poem and said something about why I should stop blaming myself. Originally, I had, because I made that 911 call, but I knew that it wasn’t my fault. I didn’t know why everyone was saying that.” LySaundra Campbell loved her daddy. As the eldest of three children, she was closest to her father, and she holds on to every moment where she knew she made him proud. And those moments usually involved music. When LySaundra heard her own father’s perfect alto voice, the favorite of the church choir, she wanted a piece of that musical world. Music and piano became a part of Nathan and LySaundra’s shared world. “I remember one orchestra concert when I was in sixth grade,” she says. “A
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lady sitting behind him noticed me in my violin solo. She said, ‘That girl is so good.’ And my dad grinned and said, ‘That girl is my daughter.’” For all of the happy memories of her father, LySaundra also remembers the fighting. “I would be in my room at night and hear the screaming and yelling,” she says. “Usually it would just be my mom crying and then it would be quiet. Even though I knew that was going on, I still wanted a two-parent home with a mom and a dad and the kids. I wanted to be normal.” After December 2002, LySaundra decided she didn’t want to talk about her daddy. When her family’s drama was on the news for everyone in the Kansas City area to see, LySaundra just wanted to go on being a middle school student. But her peers wouldn’t let her. Some of her friends were too sympathetic, which only made things worse. “Once my friend and I were standing in the hallway, and she was asking me about how I felt about everything,” she says. “These two girls asked us what we were talking about. I told them to make them go away. Instead, they ran away and screamed down the hallway, ‘LySaundra’s dad held her mom hostage!’ It was awful.” Middle school became a blur for LySaundra, but they weren’t entirely quiet years. “I would have outbursts at home,” she says. “I would keep the anger in for so long, and then I would just go off.” The anger was mostly directed toward her mother who LySaundra still blamed for her broken family. “I didn’t understand a lot of what had happened,” she says. “I would pray to God to help me forgive my dad, but I don’t think I really reached any closure.” In high school, music helped bridge some of LySaundra’s pain. She stayed involved with violin and piano and music groups at church. When it came to selecting a college, she knew she would keep music in her life. “I can’t drop music,” she says. “It had always been a huge part of my life and both my parents were proud of me when I picked it up.” When she finally landed on the University of Missouri as her college choice, LySaundra brought her love of music, and the memories of father’s deep alto voice, with her. In her sophomore biology lecture hall of over 300 students, LySaundra
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noticed an older student, a “classy” woman in her 40s, who always participated in class and asked questions. LySaundra would make conversation with her from time to time and noticed when she wasn’t in class one day. “Then the Monday after Thanksgiving, our professor made an announcement,” she says. “She told us that the woman’s husband had killed her and her children over the weekend.” LySaundra immediately thought of her own mother. “I called her right after that class, crying,” she says. “I just said, ‘Thank you so much for everything you did for us.’ It was the first time I realized the sacrifice she had made.” Friends and campus mentors referred LySaundra to the campus’ Rape and Sexual Violence Prevention Center, and she told the director that something needed to be done to create awareness around sexual violence and abuse in the Columbia community. She decided to organize a panel on sexual and domestic violence and was immediately confronted with her friends’ reactions. “They said, ‘We don’t want to go to that; that sounds depressing.’” LySaundra decided she wanted to become more educated about sexual violence to learn how to have those difficult conversations. She became a peer advocate at the RSVP center and a volunteer at True North, Columbia’s rape and abuse shelter. And she picked up a sociology major along the way. At MU, she created Rock Against Rape, an annual fundraiser combining music and social justice awareness events to raise money for True North. “It was a way for me to educate myself and educate others,” she says. “I was able to reach out to kids who were struggling with what I dealt with. I remember one girl came to me and asked me why her daddy hurt her mommy. I told her, ‘If a guy is mean to you, that’s not right. He should be treating you like a queen.’ Her face lit up. ‘Really? Like a queen?’” LySaundra graduated from MU in
May 2013 with a degree in sociology, a minor in music and a heart set on ending violence. After applying to various shelters in New York and L.A., she landed in Nashville where she now manages the Batterers Intervention Program at the Tennessee Coalition to End Domestic and Sexual Violence. “I still have this burning desire to move to New York City, but I’m still trying to be patient in the meantime and figure out why I’m in Nashville,” she says. “My career at the Coalition is helping me learn more about domestic violence from all aspects — beyond my days of being an RSVP Educator and working at True North.” In a way, LySaundra still sees herself as one of the kids she helps. She’s just on the other side of the pain of abuse. As a 24-year-old independent woman, she wants nothing more than to end the cycle of abuse in her own family by helping other families overcome theirs. Her family, still living in Kansas City, is not the same one that emerged from the April 2002 hostage incident. Sandra and LySaundra are still working on their relationship, but her daughter says she will always be grateful for the mother who set her on the path to ending the cycle of violence. “I will always be grateful for the decision she made. It wasn’t easy, and it’s the reason I’m here doing what I’m doing.”
“I can’t drop music. It had always been a huge part of my life and both my parents were proud of me when I picked it up.”
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ENTERTAIN How We Live
“In the cherry blossom’s shade there’s no such thing as a stranger.” — Kobayashi Issa, Japanese poet
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ENTERTAIN
High-performance hostess Mix and match these dinner party details to flawlessly maneuver your way across the work/home threshold By Allissa Fisher and Shannon Robb As a confident professional, you might want to host a dinner party for your boss and co-workers. This is a prime opportunity to strengthen your work relationships and get to know one another outside the buttoned-up confines of the office. Plus, you can showcase your take-charge attitude and your ability to organize events with casual grace. So, who do you invite? Does your work atmosphere tend to be cold and reserved, or is it comfortable and chatty? If it’s the first, an office dinner party could be the key to breaking down this wall, but it also makes the task of actually inviting your boss and a few co-workers over more difficult. Don’t feel obligated to invite the entire office, but inviting a select few other colleagues might allow you to avoid any possible negative office chatter. Be sure to plan in advance! Alcohol or not? Spirits obviously make any gathering more spirited, and you want everyone to have a good time (especially when your guests might be feeling a little nervous about spending time together outside the office, too). But you also want to maintain a level of professionalism. As the host, limit yourself to a single drink. For your guests, limiting the number of alcoholic drinks available and offering a variety of non-alcoholic drinks will help everyone loosen up without the worry of loose lips or questionable actions.
SIP GINGER CITRUS MARTINI Ingredients: 1 ½ parts orange-flavored vodka ½ part amaretto liqueur ½ part simple syrup ¾ parts fresh lime juice A pinch of ground ginger 1 tsp sesame oil 1 tsp sugar for rimming glass Directions: Rub sesame oil around the rim of a martini glass, and then roll it in the sugar. Combine the vodka, amaretto liqueur, simple syrup, lime juice and ginger in a cocktail shaker filled with ice. Shake well and strain into the martini glass.
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NON-ALCOHOLIC GINGER BASIL GRAPEFRUIT MIMOSAS Ingredients: 1 grapefruit; plus additional grapefruit for garnish 2 cups of ice 3 x 12 oz cans of ginger soda ¼ cup basil simple syrup (recipe at right) A handful of fresh basil Directions: Juice one large grapefruit and segment additional grapefruit for garnish if preferred. Combine soda, fresh grapefruit juice and simple syrup in a pitcher filled halfway with ice. Mix well, and garnish with grapefruit slices and fresh basil.
Basil Simple Syrup: 1 cup sugar 1 cup water 1 cup loosely packed fresh basil Directions: Place sugar and water in a small pan over medium heat until sugar is fully dissolved (about 2 minutes). Add the basil, and allow it to steep for 1520 minutes, then strain and discard the basil. Place the syrup in a glass tupperware container or squeeze bottle if you have it.
SAVOR Tried and true, or something new? We advise asking those who will be attending about their dietary preferences. The last thing you want is to offer a mushroom-heavy course to your mushroom-hating boss. If you are tempted to try a new recipe, we recommend this savory green curry that’s a delight to the tastebuds but not too demanding on the wallet. You can make the curry paste the day before to avoid a potential timing fiasco the evening of.
1 tsp minced lime zest 1 tsp ground cumin 1 tsp ground coriander 1/2 tsp freshly ground pepper 1 tbsp Thai fish sauce 1 tbsp fresh lime juice
SAVORY GREEN CURRY
Ingredients: 3 tbsp peanut oil 11/2 pounds skinless, boneless chicken thighs, cut into 1/2-inch-wide strips 1/2 pound shiitake mushrooms, stemmed, caps quartered (or vegetable of choice) One 14-ounce can coconut milk 2 cups chicken stock or low-sodium broth 8 lime leaves or one-inch-wide strips of lime zest 1 tbsp brined green peppercorns, drained 2 tbsp Thai fish sauce 1 cup chopped cilantro
CURRY PASTE Ingredients: 4 stalks of fresh lemongrass, bottom 4 inches thinly sliced 6 jalapeños, seeded and coarsely chopped (we suggest starting with 2) 3 garlic cloves, smashed One 2-inch piece of peeled fresh ginger, thinly sliced 2 shallots, thinly sliced 1/4 cup chopped cilantro
Directions: To make the curry paste, combine all ingredients in a blender or food processor and pulse until you’ve created a thick, consistent paste.
CURRY
cup shredded basil Steamed rice and lime wedges, for serving
1/2
Directions: In a large, heavy casserole, heat the peanut oil. Add half of the chicken, and cook over high heat until browned all over, about 6 minutes. Transfer the chicken to a plate. Repeat with the remaining chicken. Add the mushrooms to the casserole, and cook over mediumhigh heat until softened and just beginning to brown, about 4 minutes. Add the coconut milk, stock, lime leaves, peppercorns, 2 tablespoon of the fish sauce, 1/2 cup of the cilantro, 1/4 cup of the basil and a heaping 1/4 cup of the curry paste. Bring to a boil, and simmer over low heat for 10 minutes. Return the chicken and any accumulated juices to the casserole. Add 1 tablespoon of the curry paste and simmer for 5 minutes. (Reserve the remaining curry paste for another use.) Just before serving, add the remaining 1 tablespoon fish sauce, 1/2 cup cilantro and 1/4 cup basil. Serve the chicken curry in deep bowls, with rice and lime wedges.
We advise asking those who will be attending about their dietary needs.
Use a blender or food processor to make a thick, consistent curry paste.
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ENTERTAIN
SERVE What should you wear? This is your territory, so relax! Though it is not advisable to sport your comfy weekend jeans or anything overly exposing, you don’t have to entirely follow the office dress code. Slip on your favorite conservative wrap dress or a darker jean paired with a nice sweater. Country, classical or something in between? Again, this is very dependent on your own musical preferences and the vibe you get from the people in your workplace, but, in any case, it’s best to leave the explicit cut of your favorite rap song or anything with blaring guitar solos off the playlist. Acoustic covers offer a cozy, casual ambience without feeling stuffy or overshadowing the natural 1. Bread plate 2. Dessert fork and coffee spoon 3. Water and wine glasses 4. Salad fork and dinner fork 5. Dinner plate 6. Dinner knife and soup spoon For a full meal plan and conversation starters, head to meridianmag. com/entertain.
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conversation. Head over to spotify. com/meridiandinnermix for our dinner playlist essentials. Should you pinch your pennies or splurge to impress? It might be tempting to drop a few hundred on this dinner affair to impress your boss, but honestly, he or she knows what you make, so you don’t have to outdo yourself spending more than you can reasonably afford. Choose a few areas in which you’re willing to spend a bit more (like purchasing a nice wine if you’ve chosen to have it or a good cut of meat) and find ways to save on the rest of the items you need. If you have the time, we recommend picking up a few stems of
Peruvian Lilies from your local grocer. Used as a centerpiece or placed on a drink cart, the inexpensive, colorful flower can instantly brighten your living space. Is it okay to talk about work? As a general rule, try avoiding talking about promotions or raises unless your higher-up introduces them. You don’t want the entire night to feel like a ruse meant only to lead to this single agenda point (and it most likely will feel like that if you suddenly bring up shop talk). This should especially be avoided if you’ve also invited co-workers. Keep conversation light and use it as an opportunity to get to know your guests better.
REFINE The Art of Style
“Style is knowing who you are, what you want to say, and not giving a damn.” — Orson Welles, American actor
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REFINE
Small scale ’scaping Adding just a touch of green can lighten any living space By Shannon Robb
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ardens don’t have to be a luxury reserved for those blessed with double digits of outdoor square footage. Plants and miniature gardens are an easy and manageable addition to your interior living space. Even if you’re short on space and time or don’t have much of a green thumb, these three small scale options can add a fresh view, fresh air or fresh taste to your home. TERRARIUMS double as an art piece, subtly add the magical, cozy quality of a woodland cottage to the corner of a desk or room and, if you establish a strong enough base, can be self-sustaining, meaning you can enjoy the look without constant upkeep. A clear, moisture-lock container, like an apothecary jar, works best to create a terrarium. Clean the container well before beginning. When choosing plants, remember that ferns and the types of plants commonly found in a climate similar to Washington state will generally grow best. 1. Start with a base that allows drainage—pea gravel works well. The
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deeper your container, the deeper your base should be. 2. Add a layer of activated charcoal on top of the gravel, which will improve the overall health of the ecosystem. 3. Add a layer of soil slightly deeper than the height of the original containers your plants have been packaged in. 4. Plant your ferns, firmly packing the soil around them. You can also add a blanket of moss. 5. Water the terrarium with a few tablespoons of water to get it started (remember: it doesn’t need to be soaked), and close the lid. 6. Place the terrarium in indirect sunlight to avoid burning the plants, and monitor the soil over time. A closed-lid terrarium won’t need much water, so be careful not to overwater it. Open the lid for a short time if there appears to be a lot of excess water. SUCCULENTS offer another nohassle approach to bring some green into your domain. Choose from a large variety for the look you like best; you can even create a vertical planter to hang on the wall for a piece of living wall art. Characterized by thick leaves that hold water (like cacti), succulents are easy to care for inside. They should be left in open air to prevent water rot. Check
them about once a week for water. Window boxes full of HERBS look great over a sink or near the kitchen table, and they serve double duty when you’re cooking. Although these might require slightly more attention than the previous two options, the reward is worth it. To get your window garden growing, try these hardy herbs: ROSEMARY Soil: Light, fast-draining Light: Bright light Water: 1-2 times per week. Be careful not to waterlog the soil. THYME Soil: Light, fast-draining Light: Bright light or full sun Water: Water regularly, but allow the soil to dry slightly between waterings BASIL Soil: Loose, well-drained potting soil Light: Full sun (4-6 hours) Water: Keep soil moist, especially at signs of wilting. Mist regularly. Compiled with help from Tina Bradley, master design at Allen’s Flowers, Inc. in Columbia, Mo.
REFINE
You’re so classic Whether you’re just stepping into your career or are already a professional, refresh your wardrobe with these timeless pieces By Allissa Fisher
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here is nothing more stressful than spending your precious morning moments frantically searching your over-stuffed closet and drawers for something to wear. As you begin your spring-cleaning regimen, now is the time to trade in your lavish wardrobe for more classic investment pieces to wear to the office and beyond. Whether your style is tailored or trendy, here are the staples that every professional wardrobe needs.
Fitted blazers: Tailored blazers ooze confidence. We recommend sticking with black, gray and tan for versatility, but a bold-colored blazer is great for commanding attention during an important presentation. We recommend: Cutaway Blazer, Banana Republic: $165.00
A-line skirts: Waist enhancing and figure flattering, knee-length skirts with a bit of a kick at the hem are a timeless investment choice. We recommend: Veldt striped skirt, Anthropologie: $128.00
Cigarette pants: History repeats itself, and these flattering-for-all high waisted ankle pants are a 1950s trend we are happy to have around again. We recommend: Martie pant, J.Crew: $89.50
Pointed flats: Forget heels. Opt for a pair of stylish and practical flats to round out your ensemble. Black is always a good option, but don’t shy from investing in patterned flats. We recommend: D’orsay flat, Express: $39.90
Midi dresses: Classic. Midi dresses are named for their length— hitting just below the knee. Solid colors are easy to work with, but add a patterned dress for the days you want to have some fun. We recommend: Midi dress with full skirt, ASOS: $42.80
Waterproof trench coat: Say goodbye to your neon rain jacket. A neutral trench is long enough to save your clothes from the rain and light enough to drape over your arm when the sun decides to shine. We recommend: Calvin Klein hooded belted trench, Macy’s: $99.98
Neutral v-neck t-shirts: Stick to the basics when building your wardrobe. Solid colored tees layer nicely under cardigans and blazers and can be dressed up with scarves and statement necklaces. We recommend: V-neck collection, Everlane: $15.00
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REVIEW What We Thought
“We are mosaics — pieces of light, love, history, stars — glued together with magic and music and words.” — Anita Kirzzan, Slovenian author
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REVIEW
FILM
In a society that increasingly champions powerful females, Disney princesses are often criticized.
Cinderella Disney’s 2015 Cinderella, directed by Kenneth Branagh, is another in a recent string of live action, classic fairytale remakes. The tale has often been reimagined, but the house of mouse’s version is remarkably true to the 1950s animated film, something Disney-lovers will appreciate. The traditional retelling, rather than feeling outdated, is bright and beautiful with captivating sets and costumes, and it incorporates some new material in the backstories of both Ella and her wicked stepmother. We are told that the stepmother, Lady Tremaine, wears the sorrows she has known “wonderfully well.” True to her character, the standout Cate Blanchett wears conniving and, later, broken-hearted (and her stunning, almost 1940s-esque costumes) wonderfully well. Just as Disney’s 2014 Maleficent aimed to share the untold story of one of its infamous villains, Cinderella’s script offers a glimpse into
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the evil stepmother’s heart. She’s not so much inherently evil as she is a woman defeated by a broken heart. The only way she has learned to pick herself and her daughters up again is to strategically manipulate the people in her life. Then when someone threatens her trajectory, the darkness of her heart truly begins to emerge as she attempts to keep her world from shattering again. In a society that increasingly champions powerful females, Disney princesses are often criticized. Disney should try to counter the 1950s version of their princess by re-imagining a stronger female lead, but in remaining so true to the original animation, Cinderella offers only a slight female empowerment spin to the story. Ella is strong to withstand her family’s cruelty while maintaining the values of courage and kindness her original parents instilled. A spark of independence shines through when she confronts Prince Charming
by asserting, “Just because it’s what’s done, doesn’t mean it should be done.” And Ella proves love isn’t her be-all and end-all when she puts the good of the kingdom above her happiness by refusing to submit to a proposition made by Lady Tremaine. However, a more overt sense of Ella’s strength would have been a truly magical element in this fairytale. In most instances, the tiny-waisted and wispyvoiced girl, who appears to resign to her fate by singing and staring wistfully out the window after being locked away, upholds many of the reasons people use to find fault in the classic princesses. Even so, this new Cinderella is a charming renewal of an old tale. The film doesn’t shy away from the magic that made the original so captivating to young children, and it’s difficult not to be taken in by the enchanting kingdom of this remake. – Shannon Robb
MUSIC
Father John Misty’s second album, I Love You, Honeybear, was released Feb. 10, 2015.
REVIEW
Father John Misty Father John Misty’s new album sounds like a celestial, electronic gospel choir headed up by someone from Fleet Foxes. Well, this is actually sort of the reality. Let’s back up. I’ve never really listened to Fleet Foxes, but I love Father John Misty, and I imagine the style is similar. My only experience with Fleet Foxes came when I was on my way home from Bonnaroo with my best friend one hot Sunday night. We were talking about Bon Iver’s performance, and he said he was disappointed Justin Vernon hadn’t played any of his favorite songs. After a brief pause, he said: “Actually, now that I think about it, those aren’t his songs. Those are all Fleet Foxes songs.” Father John Misty is the pseudonym of Josh Tillman, who, surprise, was formerly the Fleet Foxes drummer. His first studio album, Fear Fun, was released in 2012, right after he left the band. I saw him perform what I think was every song from the album when I went to a show of his in 2013. I vividly remember his entrance onto the stage. He was dragging a stool behind him, and he placed it in the middle of the stage. “I found this stool backstage,” he said. “I
feel pretty good about it.” Nonchalant and seemingly without a care in the world. Then he started singing, and I was mesmerized. His second album, I Love You, Honeybear, was released Feb. 10, 2015. It’s an 11-track album, and it’s got more of an experimental vibe, compared to Fear Fun’s laidback psychedelic pop. The second track, “True Affection,” is pretty electronic and repetitive, and it would stand out like a sore thumb on the first album, but the following song, “The Night Josh Tillman Came To Our Apt.,” would have fit right in. It’s narrative, relaxed and cheeky, with lines such as, “She says, like literally, music is the air she breathes/And the malaprops make me want to fucking scream/I wonder if she even knows what that word means/ Well, it's literally not that.” That’s Father John Misty. He’s going to soothe your soul with some sweet melodies and then call you out for using “literally” incorrectly for what’s probably the eighth time today. I Love You, Honeybear is full of little lines like that, lines that make you do a double take. Sit back, relax, and listen up. — Rachel Rowsey
NOVEL
The Confessions of Noa Weber For all those who have ever been desperately, hopelessly, maddeningly in love, Gail Hareven understands. Her novel The Confessions of Noa Weber is about a woman deeply in love with a man named Alek, in spite (or perhaps because) of her better judgment. The novel has been translated to English from Hebrew, and knowing this only makes me want to know how these beautiful sentiments and heartbreaking turns of phrase sound in another tongue. The main character of Hareven’s novel, Noa Weber, is the author of a series of books starring the tough-asnails lawyer Nira Woolf, who is 45, childless and fearless. Noa is reflecting
back on her life, her daughter is studying to become a rabbi, and she spends most waking moments thinking of Alek. She loves him. He loves her not. He never has. They were a couple for a while, in the most casual use of the term. They married when she was a teenager so she’d be exempt from the Israeli army. Their relationship was never the same after that. The marriage was just Alek making a point, one friend helping another friend escape the draft. Alek didn’t want her to think the marriage was romantic or a commitment, so he started ignoring her after the ceremony in their shared home. They stopped having sex. They
stopped talking. But Noa was already pregnant. The Confessions of Noa Weber is Noa at her most honest. She knows her love isn’t awe-inspiring or star-crossed. It’s pathetic. It embarasses her. She’s joined an online Lovers Anonymous group where she can secretly commiserate with other women who have lost their lives to love. She doesn’t contribute to the group, but she shares her story with us. Her lovely, sad story of a love that’s unrequited and unwanted by both parties. Through her analysis of her own obsessive love, we learn a little bit more about loving ourselves. — Rachel Rowsey Issue No. 1 | MERIDIAN
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SPOTLIGHT Seattle, Washington
“Wherever you go, go with all your heart.” — Confucius, Chinese teacher
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SPOTLIGHT
Seeing clearly in Seattle
How following her husband allowed Katie Fisher to find her own passion
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efore moving to Seattle, I was guilty of envisioning the port city like many people who aren't native to it: waking up in my fabulous old-yetmodernized apartment in the city. The morning sunlight strengthens its beams with each passing minute, penetrating through the light, salty mist as I stroll to the market in my Hunter boots, carrying my Kleen Kanteen of strong coffee that has miraculously appeared in my hand with no notion of preparation on my part. My hair is long and fantastic, my eyes are alert, and I'm armed with my reusable shopping bags to store my daily procured fresh fish/flowers/veg. Reality: my (read, "OUR;" I moved here with my husband and dog) apartment is new and attractive in that open, industrial-looking way, but it's abysmally tiny. 530 sq. ft. The kitchen is relatively large, thank goodness, but I'd be lying if I said the two of us humans can both navigate comfortably in there without snapping at each other or sighing exaggeratedly. Our bed is situated near our front and only window, which means it's right inside the door. There is no airconditioning in this three-year-old apartment, which means our one and only window is perpetually open. So far it's been mostly comfortable temperature-wise, but that open window means being assaulted multiple times daily by the shrill, demonic barking of our neighbors' Maltese, followed by the detached-in-action but loud-in-mockadmonishment of his ENT owner yelling, "Allen! Shut up!" Yes, the dog's name is Allen. And yes, this often happens at 5:30 a.m. And yes, we have completely avoided confronting the owners because we KNOW they have to already know, and oh, apartment politics. The thing I've struggled with most over our move from a 2200 sq. ft. country home to a tiny city apartment? I haven't had a bath in over seven months. That's not to say I haven't bathed; we simply don't have a bathtub in favor of the smaller-footprint shower stall. Transitions are rough. But do you know what's great about living in Seattle? I walk to work. It takes three minutes. No, I'm not utilizing my literature degree (what was I thinking?!), but I am using my management skills that I've honed over
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SPOTLIGHT
the past 13 years of working in retail. My husband is working on his Masters in Health Administration, and then it'll be my turn. I know what you're thinking: archetypal subordinate woman giving her man what he wants in lieu of pursuing her own success. Not the case. I'm the creative type who's good at a lot of things, but until last week didn't really know what she wanted as a career. I had an epiphany in the shower (bless that shower!): I love graphic design, but I've been holding myself back because I don't know how to use Adobe Illustrator. Now I have a goal. It's been this city that has inspired me. This city full of history, art,
architecture, people, hipsters, food, and an appreciation for great aesthetics and forward thinking. There are so many intelligent people here, and now I'm one of them. The "curse of competence," as a guidance counselor once dubbed my "problem," is now what elevates my drive and my passion. Proximity to everything is exciting. Allen makes for a funny story at happy hour, and this tiny apartment is cozy and has frankly been the best thing for my marriage (it's sink or swim in such tight quarters, and lady, we are swimming). Do I have it all figured out? Heck no. I'm 30 and still learning. Life happens. And I’ll let you in on a little secret: success is relative, not comparable.
If you are happy, you are successful. And a truly successful woman does not measure her own worth against another woman’s achievements. It thrills me to know that I can always KNOW more. With so much happening around me, I want to keep happening. I want to keep growing- mentally, culturally, and skillfully. My future's bright, and I'm wearing shades. But not all the time. It's Seattle. It rains a bit. P.S. I've owned Hunter boots for about four years now. Before they were cool. Before I moved to Seattle. I guess that makes me a hipster.
Seattle’s Best Katie’s suggestions on where to go and what to do in the Ballard neighborhood of Seattle where she lives.
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BALLARD MARKET
BALLARD GOODWILL
Honestly, nothing beats Ballard Market for great produce and a knowledgeable, friendly staff.
Thanks to Macklemore, I’m addicted to going here. It’s huge, well organized, and I've found some great treasures, old and new.
CAFE BESALU
When I want to get my husband and myself a morning treat, I brave the line at this cute café, which has amazing European pastries and coffee.
TROVE Reused clothing is huge in Seattle, and with cute vintage boutiques like Trove within walking distance from my place, I’ve definitely caught on the trend.
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REMARK
The leader of the Packed How Party Girl Jordan Jones turned a pity party into a successful business By Abbie Wenthe Shortly after moving to San Francisco for work, Jordan Jones was sitting in her apartment having a pity party for herself. She didn’t know a soul and was having a hard time adjusting to her new home. After going to bed that night, she had a dream about being able to send a themed Pity Party package to herself. When she awoke, she saw a huge gap in the market for themed gift packages. Packed Party was born. The company just started in 2013, so Jones is cautious to use the word “success” when talking about her business. She’s created a company that’s changing the gift-gaming game for women while breaking all of the womenin-business stereotypes. What was the most helpful advice you received when starting Packed Party? When I first started Packed Party, I basically forced a successful entrepreneur who lived in my building to give me 10 minutes of his time and offer feedback on my idea. This person asked me only a few questions, and then told me that I needed to share my idea with every single person I ever came into contact with because if it was a good idea (and he said it was), I shouldn't be afraid that anyone would ever be able to do it better than me. It was amazing advice, and I ran with it! I think having confidence with your concept and your brand is key. If you don't believe in what you're doing, how is anyone else supposed to? What are some of the challenges you faced when starting Packed Party? I had a full-time job when I started Packed Party. Balancing a career and something you love is really difficult and a back-and-forth process. Time managing early on was difficult because I was doing everything. All hats were worn by me, so being a juggler was something I had to master, and quick!
I think people aren't as used to seeing women who want to create global companies or have these out-of-the-park dreams. I've definitely seen some faces when I try and put into words what I’m building, but I think everyone has a choice of what they want to grow up and do or be. Opposition has truly made me the business woman I am. When I'm told no, I try twice as hard — and I'm already a bit strong willed.
Have you ever experienced any opposition or hurdles to your success because you are a woman?
Who has been your biggest influencer in your career? I can't pinpoint just one. So many things led me to the career I have now — people,
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events, my internship at LVMH. I decided very early on I was going to be a sponge and soak up any advice anyone would give me. No one person knows what's right for you, so mixing people's takes on things helped me a ton. What career advice would you give to other young women? I would say find something that you are can't-sleep, can't-eat passionate over, and do it. Going all in and betting on your dreams is the best choice you can make. Even if it fails, you tried doing it and that sets you up for other successes.