the mobility
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issues magazine
Issue number six / December 1, 2014 / Washington University in St. Louis
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letter from t he e d i to r s president Keaton Wetzel
editor-in-chief Victoria Sgarro
social media Laken Sylvander
senior editors Claire Huttenlocher Carrick Reddin George Zhang
Dear thoughtful readers, Let’s consider how we get from point A to point B. Traveling these points could mean moving from poverty to economic independence, a foreign country to America, the city to the suburbs, or your dorm to class. You could take public transportation, surf the internet, walk or dance your way from one to the other. In this issue, our contributors explore “mobility” and its many connotations. We cover socioeconomic mobility, urban design and infrastructure, physical and individual mobility, the surveillance of movement — and how all of these modes relate. Using prose, photography, illustration, design and even our first poem, we seek to engage with this word at a deeper level by using a wide range of mediums. At Wash. U., sometimes it can feel as if we must keep moving to keep from falling behind — on our homework, with our friends, in our career plans. We hope you will take some time to stop moving, sit down and flip through our magazine to consider the implications of this constant movement in all its forms. Enjoy,
design & visual editor Libby Perold
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Victoria Sgarro, Editor-in-Chief Keaton Wetzel, President
c o n te n ts
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Victims of Circumstance
10. Gated Communities Throughout the World 14. Welcome to America 18. Tales of Two Dancers 28. Forsyth and Wallace 30. Desire Paths at Wash. U. 32. Disability Access at Wash. U. 34. Watching U.
Front & Back Cover Illustration by Duyen (Chanel) Luu Hai Inside Cover Illustration by Libby Perold Black & White Photograph by Eva Nip 3
Victims of
circumstance
The last few decades have brought about major changes to the American landscape. Through a process often referred to as the “suburbanization of poverty,” more of the country’s poor live in suburbs than cities. For many, this change is hard to reconcile with our historical understanding of the dichotomy between urban and suburban areas. Historically, poverty has remained firmly within the realm of overcrowded inner city tenements and ghettos. At least as it has been perceived. By the same token, moving to the suburbs was a sure sign of success. It meant that one could afford the luxury of a car and a mortgage and was able to remove oneself from the less than ideal conditions of city life. However, over the last decade’s periods of economic turmoil, chiefly the Great Recession that spanned from 2007 to 2009, have squeezed already scarce resources and limited opportunities for upward mobility for both city and suburban residents alike. At the end of the Great Recession, unemployment had skyrocketed as a loss of jobs in the manufacturing, construction, retail, leisure and hospitality sectors brought an added 9.1 million people below the poverty line. Job losses in these areas were especially devastating to the suburban poor because of the suburbanization of jobs. Over the last decade, many job sectors have moved from cities to suburban communities. In fact, the migration of many of the urban poor was in direct response to the relocation of low-skill, low-wage jobs to the surrounding suburbs. This is not to say that the suburbanization of poverty was solely a matter of the poor moving into previously out of reach communities. During the economic downturn everyone suffered, and as a result suburban populations simply became poorer. It is important to note that the suburban poor were in no way better off than their urban counterparts just because
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Written by Nichole Murphy Illustrations by Libby Perold
they were able to relocate. Most relocation was only possible due to continued construction of newer housing developments that pushed the value of older houses down within the price range of poorer populations. As a pull factor, the urban poor could finally afford to own a home in a seemingly more desirable area. However, others
Contrary to common perceptions of the suburbs as a middle to upper-middle class enclave, which would mean upward socioeconomic gains for new residents, the suburbs are becoming as socially and economically diverse as the city.
were pushed out of the city. Gentrification and renewed interest in the revitalization of blighted areas in cities caused housing price pressure, which led to the outflow of low-income residents to the neighboring, less expensive suburban housing stock. So there was no significant
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From 2000 to 2007, household income decreased $3000 for city residents...
increase in income that suddenly allowed the urban poor to move to the suburbs. In fact, from 2000 to 2007, median household income decreased about $3,000 for city residents and about $3,500 for suburban residents.
The belief that everyone can succeed or has an equal chance hurts those victims of circumstance by placing blame on them and perpetuating the problematic notion of the ‘deserving poor.’
While many efforts have been made to understand the plight of the urban poor, few attempts have been made to understand the current state of suburban poverty. Despite following the migration
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...and about $3500 for suburban residents.
of jobs to the suburbs, many residents relocated to communities without job growth. Research has shown that most jobs are located in the higherincome suburban areas still out of reach to poor suburbanites. Unlike their city counterparts, transportation options for suburban residents are limited. Since the public transit system in suburban communities can be woefully inadequate or non-existent, without steady, reliable access to a car it is nearly impossible for the suburban poor to get around. The implications of this reality is difficulty in getting to work (which can lead to termination of employment), inability to get to the grocery store (instead families opt to go to the local convenience store that has less options, in terms of nutrition or otherwise), difficulty in making and keeping appointments such as doctor’s visits, and limited accessibility to the “safety net” and programs created for their benefit such as Women, Infants, and Children (WIC). Every year, about $150 to $200 billion is allocated to social and human services programs for lowincome people for what is sometimes referred to as the “safety net,” which includes services such as job training, adult education, child care, and substance abuse and mental health services. Unfortunately, these services are most often delivered through nonprofit organizations and therefore there is no assurance that those most in need have access to them. Further, since traditionally nonprofits and services are centered around urban areas, they are less accessible to low-income residents of suburban communities. Part of the difficulty of providing better services to suburban regions is dealing with jurisdictional barriers that require the weaving
In the last decade, suburban poverty has almost doubled, at a rate of close to 60% in 2011. 2000
2011
together of many fragmented areas by working with multiple bureaucracies and regulations. The lack of access to the “safety net” puts these residents at a disadvantage as compared to poor inner-city residents. What does this mean for poor suburban residents? Contrary to common perceptions of the suburbs as a middle to upper-middle class enclave, which would mean upward socioeconomic gains for new residents, the suburbs are becoming as socially and economically diverse as the city. Historically, upward mobility has been perceived as the result of an individual’s hard work to better him or herself and his or her situation in life. The completion of such a journey is the “American Dream.” However, some people cannot just “pull themselves up by their bootstraps,” a notion that suggests everyone has the same opportunities, when there are obstacles holding them back. This mentality breeds ignorance and general insensitivity to the struggle of others. In actuality, you cannot choose where you are born or the life into which you are born. The system is simply not set up for everyone to succeed, and some people fail through no fault of their own. There are things we cannot control.
grocery store where most of the customers receive some form of government assistance). There is so much judgment of people in the WIC or SNAP program, even though some coworkers receive the same assistance. So it is not just a question of being employed versus unemployed, when having a living wage is not the same as minimum wage, and when living like that — just scraping by — you can never get ahead. What’s needed is a reversal of this attitude and a recognition of the struggle of millions of Americans no longer isolated, hidden away in inner-city ghettos, but out in the open for all the world to see. Source: Kneebone, Elizabeth, and Alan Berube. Confronting Suburban Poverty in America. Washington, DC: Brookings Institution Press, 2013. 169. Print.
The perception or belief that everyone can succeed or has an equal chance hurts those victims of circumstance by placing blame on them and perpetuating the problematic notion of the “deserving poor.” There’s nothing wrong with needing a little assistance from time to time, and you should never be made to feel inferior for needing it. But that’s exactly how these victims of circumstance are perceived and treated. I’ve experienced this first hand where I work (a local
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Photograph by Eva Nip 9
Throughout the World Written by Tori Sgarro Illustration by Erin Lee
As we drove out of the city, I watched the looming buildings collapse into the flatness of the desert through my dusty car window. We continued along the familiar route for over an hour, until only fields of wild cacti flanked the highway. Finally, two mechanical gates resting next to a small building broke the monotony of the terrain. Behind the gates, the desert rose into mountains populated by large houses. The man behind the glass window, locating the “Member” sticker on our car, opened the gates and waved us through. About a year ago, my parents moved from the East Coast suburbs to a gated community on the other side of the country. Ostensibly a personal decision, their move also realizes a much larger global trend towards privatization, which became popular in the United States during the 1980s. Many of these early communities, like the one which my parents now live in, popped up to fill a new demand created by recent retirees. But since then, different versions of this phenomenon have appeared not just in American suburbs, but throughout the world, especially in developing cities. With over half of the world’s population now living in cities, a first in human history, gated communities represent a distinct characteristic of the future of
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urbanization. People around the world continue to migrate from the countryside to city centers in pursuit of economic and social opportunities. But upon arrival in the cities, they may find that gated communities maintain a separation between the haves and the have-nots. As a physical barrier between the urban rich and rural poor, gated communities segregate the urban population and stifle socioeconomic mobility.
China Walled communities are not a new phenomenon in Chinese society. During the Maoist era, urban residents lived in work-unit (danwei) compounds, or walled communes assigned according to job status. The workunit system allowed the state to monitor individuals’ travel, marriages and reproduction under the one-child policy. But the country’s economic reform, beginning in 1978, partially privatized the welfare housing system. In the 1980s, the central government encouraged households to buy work-unit housing at a subsidized price. This privatization process accelerated in 1998, when the government included cash subsidies instead of public
housing in workers’ wage packages — prompting the wealthier Chinese to sell their recently purchased workunit housing and use the profit, in combination with their savings, to enter the private housing market. It was in this context that luxury gated communities appeared in China. After decades of living without privacy in work-unit compounds, China’s new rich gravitated to the promise of a private and secluded life behind gates. Moreover, many of these gated communities offered an appealing western lifestyle, attracting expatriates as well as locals.
applies to permanent urban residents. Therefore, rural migrants cannot access work-unit housing, and they are too poor to afford commodity housing. This situation has produced a major problem in urban China: the rise of high-density migrant enclaves within cities. These migrant villages have become an entirely different kind of “gated community,” but not by choice. Urban residents of China stigmatize rural migrants as an inferior social class, blaming them for the increased crime rate in major cities. In 2010, the government responded by establishing a system called “sealed management.” Under sealed management, migrant villages are fenced in and given curfews, to the detriment of inhabitants’ quality of life. Some residents struggle to make it back from work in time to meet the imposed curfew, and many claim the gates often close earlier or open later then they’re supposed to.
As a physical barrier between the urban rich and rural poor, gated communities segregate the urban population and stifle socioeconomic mobility.
However, the privatization of China’s housing market has not benefited all Chinese citizens equally. As the nation’s economy improved rapidly, cities grew at a faster rate than rural areas. Consequently, rural residents have flooded the cities in search of low-wage jobs. However, the welfare system of the Chinese city only
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Today, migrant enclaves exist side by side with wealthy gated communities in the city. Rural migrants live in close physical proximity to their wealthy urban counterparts, but there exists limited social interaction between the two populations. Thus, the segregated urban environment of China today has led to a growing gap between the country’s urban rich and rural poor.
is especially problematic. Gates are more likely to cause social fragmentation given South Africa’s particular national history. Critics of the trend towards gating even compare security villages to apartheid influx control. Thus, gated communities inevitably ignite racial tensions in a country still struggling to move towards forgiveness and reparation.
South Africa
Argentina
The 2013 Oscar Pistorius trial brought international attention to South African gated communities, known locally as “enclosed neighborhoods” or “security villages.” Pistorius, a Paralympian sprinter and national hero, fatally shot his girlfriend in his home in an upscale gated community. Historically paranoid regarding his personal security, he claimed to have thought she was an intruder targeting him for his wealth and fame.
Once the most egalitarian society in Latin America, Argentina currently has over 400 gated communities within the capital alone. Although the first gated community (or “country” as they are called locally), was established in 1930, it was not until President Menem’s neoliberal policies in the early 1990s that gated communities became popularized.
Pistorius’ alleged fear for his own safety exemplifies an extreme version of the constant fear associated with everyday life in South Africa. In response to increasing crime rates and a corresponding increase in fear of crime, gated communities have sprung up throughout postapartheid South Africa. People view public spaces in the city as unsafe and don’t trust police or the criminal justice system to protect them. Fear is present among both the rich and the poor, but only those who can afford it, like Pistorius, move to gated communities for heightened security. Although some of the higher-end villages offer amenities from golf courses to tennis courts, the majority only include housing. Most residents have to pass the gates to access grocery stores, schools, playgrounds and restaurants. Therefore, the main purpose of these “security estates” is, in fact, security. They offer the protection of 24/7 armed guards, high walls and fences, surveillance cameras and razor wires. Residents value the ability to leave a door unlocked, to run outside alone, or to walk the streets at night without fear. However, not all South Africans have equal opportunity to live a life without fear of crime. Most of the people moving to these gated communities or erecting walls around their already established neighborhoods are white and upper class Afrikaners and expatriates. In a post-apartheid country still recovering from decades of institutionalized segregation, this kind of social exclusion
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While the president’s new neoliberal economic and social system broadened the gap between the rich and poor, the wealthy still remained in the city centers rather than fleeing to the suburbs as was common in other Latin American countries. However, this pattern changed in 2001 when the country defaulted on $100 billion of foreign debt, causing an economic crisis. Although the poor and middle class at first directed their anger towards the government, gangs soon turned on the rich. Crime rates, unemployment and poverty skyrocketed in the cities, and those who could afford it moved away to gated communities. Although the national economy recovered in 2003, 40 percent of Argentinians were left in poverty. People continued to pour out to the “barrios privados.” As the wealthy moved from the city to gated communities, businesses followed them. Many Argentinian gated communities offer amenities including hospitals, schools, shopping centers, grocery stores, and even polo fields and tennis courts. Guarded by armed security guards, razor wires and walls, these communities obviate the need for residents to ever leave. But this convenient tendency to stay within a neighborhood’s perimeters has significant implications for the country’s future, especially concerning youth growing up inside of these communities. Children attend school, meet friends and participate in recreational activities all within the limits of their own communities. Their contact with the city and those who don’t share their privileged circumstances is often limited to the
Introducing a global perspective to this phenomenon can help us better understand the consequences of its existence in our own neighborhoods.
maintenance workers or security guards who commute to their workplaces inside gated communities from nearby slums. Thus, a growing national concern is: Will these kids be able to adjust to the outside world once they grow up? This situation may condemn the future to further inequality and isolation, subordinated to a system where segregation only breeds more segregation. The Argentinian case exemplifies the increasing inequality manifest throughout cities across Latin America. The country is dividing into two increasingly polarized lifestyles: the peaceful, quiet and secure country lifestyle of the wealthy, and the hectic, polluted and dangerous life in the city. The wealthy hide from increasing crime and poverty behind gates, leaving the poor to live in fear within the city centers.
Conclusion These three examples illustrate the universal motivations for gated communities which experts consistently identify: the desire for privacy (China), security (South Africa), and status (Argentina). Each of these three desires occur to some extent in each of these countries, and these national examples illustrate the range of manifestations of the global trend towards privatization. Gated communities have commonalities throughout the world, but they are also the product of unique historical circumstances and local contexts. Because they are founded on these three desires (privacy, security and status), gated communities inevitably lead to social exclusion, fragmentation and avoidance of “the other,” regardless of place. Furthermore, gated communities allow people to shirk civic responsibility, withdraw from their larger communities behind gates, and often withdraw even further from their own street and neighbors behind the walls that surround their singular home. Residents feel no loyalty to the city as a whole, and they do not benefit from helping their city or paying taxes for public benefits which they already receive privately. At
the same time, gating can inhibit the larger community by making longer community routes and displacing crime (or fear of crime) to nearby neighborhoods. Despite all of these negative risks associated, many governments do not have policies in place for addressing communities that come to them and ask to put up walls. While all citizens should have the right to feel safe, at the same time, governments have to take into account the effect of individual citizens’ actions on the larger community. Perhaps introducing a global perspective to this phenomenon can help us better understand the consequences of its existence in our own neighborhoods. In the United States, the number of homes in developments secured by walls or fences grew 53 percent between 2001 and 2009, and now accounts for about 10 percent of all occupied homes. In St. Louis, gating has historically been a constant source of tension in the city. The gap between the urban rich and poor is expanding throughout the world and right next door. Sources: Atkinson, Rowland, and Sarah Blandy, ed. Gated Communities: International Perspectives. New York: Routledge, 2013. Print. “Barbarians at the Gate.” The Economist 26 Oct. 2013. Web. Beach, Sophie. “Beijing Starts Gating, Locking Migrant Villages.” China Digital Times 14 Jul. 2010. Web. Benjamin, Rich. “The Gated Community Mentality.” The New York Times 29 Mar. 2012. Web. Landman, Karina. “An Overview of Enclosed Neighbourhoods in South Africa.” The University of Pretoria, 2000. Print. MacKinnon, Mark. “Inside China’s gated communities for the poor.” The Globe and Mail 18 Jul. 2010. Web. McKaiser, Eusebius. “When the Walls Come Down.” The New York Times 21 Nov. 2011. Web. Pow, Choon-Piew. Gated Communities in China: Class, Privilege and the Moral Politics of the Good Life. New York: Routledge, 2009. Print. Provost, Claire. “Gated communities fuel Blade Runner dystopia and ‘profound unhappiness.’” The Guardian 2 May 2014. Web. Raghavan, Sudarsan. “Welcome to Kleinfontein, lingering outpost of apartheid South Africa.” The Washington Post 30 Jul. 2013. Web. Serino, Kenichi. “Pistorius lived in elite, gated, alternate South Africa.” The Christian Science Monitor 22 Feb. 2013. Vega, Soledad. “Inside Looking Out: Argentina’s Gated Community Generation.” The Argentina Independent 21 Dec. 2012. Web.
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Welcome to America!
(Now please geographically orient yourself according to “whiteness.�)
Written by Miranda Hines
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Illustration by Audrey Cole
St. Louis remains one of the most racially segregated cities in the United States. Immigrants to St. Louis from other countries, therefore, face an especially complex challenge as this system becomes mapped onto their ability to settle in the United States. According to the National Journal, the top five countries immigrants to St. Louis come from are Mexico, China, India, Bosnia and the Philippines. These immigrants have a higher percentage of bachelor’s and graduate level degrees than St. Louis natives do, which likely explains the fact that these immigrants face limited discrimination and often settle in predominantly white and flourishing neighborhoods.1 These immigrants are predominantly skilled workers whose presence boosts the economy; knowing this, the city makes an effort to cater to them. The difficulty is, the economic improvements these individuals generate is predominantly isolated to where they live — the neighborhoods that are not in desperate need of the resources these immigrants generate. This has been identified as a source of contention among poorer African American communities in St. Louis,2 who raise the important question of how the city prioritizes resources. Struggling St. Louis communities could benefit substantially if more of the city’s resources, given to immigrants seemingly regardless of degree of need, were more evenly distributed between immigrants and existing communities. That is not to say that St. Louis immigrants do not require or deserve institutional assistance; many do. However, those resources used to benefit the most financially stable and well-off imigrants then fail to have a positive impact on communities in which those immigrants do not live and work.
Western European and African nations.3 The highest percentages of both immigrants and refugees coming to St. Louis are, if not Caucasian, light-skinned. Considering the fact that limited economic opportunities, injustice and warfare are not restricted to European and Asian nations, these statistics are themselves somewhat unexpected. While foreign-born residents likely relocate to cities with stronger industrial or farming economic opportunities, the proportionately large number of light-skinned immigrants compared to the proportionately small number of darker-skinned immigrants raises questions about the reputation the city of St. Louis has gained in foreign communities. Potentially more alarming is how these foreign-born members of the St. Louis community fit into the city’s racial divide. The segregation of St. Louis is highly visible in a map created by Business Insider: the city is almost perfectly racially divided north to south.4 Assuming immigrants and refugees were included in the census, the immigrants and refugees themselves either voluntarily settle or are institutionally placed along existing racial geographic boundaries. This paints a picture of the racist mentality in St. Louis as not simply being white vs. black; it is non-black vs. black. Immigrants are incorporated into the socio-political and economic system that deems lighter skin more valuable. What message does the city send, then, if on the one hand politicians are encouraging immigration for the economic boost it generates, while on the other hand the immigrants are immediately subjected to one of the least-welcoming settlement systems possible in that their settlement in the city reinforces segregation? How can America be seen as a safe haven for immigrants and refugees, a nation that protects the liberty of others, when many American citizens find themselves the result of infringements upon their freedom?
The racist mentality in St. Louis is not simply white vs. black; it is non-black vs. black.
There is also the settlement of refugees to consider. The pro-legal immigration stance many St. Louis officials have is based on the economic productivity created by a flourishing community, but what of those individuals who have no marketable skills and have come to the US to escape dangers in their countries of origin? The International Institute of St. Louis has settled over 20,000 refugees since 1970, 32 percent of whom are from Bosnia, 19 percent from Vietnam, 6 percent from Somalia, 4 percent from Bhutan, 3.5 percent from Afghanistan, and 3.5 percent from Laos. The remaining 32 percent of immigrants are listed as “Other,” which includes other
Sources: 1 Alexia Fernández Cambell, Reena Flores, and Stephanie Stamm. “Half of Town.” National Journal. 2 Ibid. 3 “Face of St. Louis Refugees.” International Institute of St. Louis. http://www.iistl.org/facestlrefug.html. 4 “Most Segregated Cities Census Map.” Business Insider. http:// www.businessinsider.com/most-segregated-cities-census-maps2013-4?op=1.
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Illustration by Edward Lim 17
Tales of Two Dancers
Laken (left) and a fellow dancer pose in the streets of Singapore. 18
Photography by Alistair Chew (https://www.facebook.com/AlistairChewPhotography) 19
Twist, Pivot, Snap: Explorations in Unexpected Immobility Written by Laken Sylvander My identity has long centered on my mobility. My able-bodied privilege allowed me to pursue dance as my strongest passion from the age of four onwards, but my mobility was severely restricted when I dislocated my knee at 18. Ballet and modern dance were the dictating forces for my understanding of myself, and who I presented myself as. If I wasn’t dancing, I was listening to music and struggling to sit still on the bus while I choreographed in my head. When you spend most of your life perfecting an art form, having your body betray you and rip all of that effort from you changes your understanding of yourself. In pushing myself too hard, in forcing my mobility to an extreme, my very movement and passion caused a physical break that ended my movement for six months. The shock of enjoying a full range of movement in one moment and the next, knowing I wouldn’t move for months, still clings to me. I was taking a late-evening modern dance class after a 3-hour rehearsal for another dance company. When I was looking in the mirror, standing on my left leg, I felt my torso and thigh bone twist to face my right leg up by my head, and suddenly my kneecap was in the side of my leg. I collapsed on top of the leg, and felt that lump of bone pressing on joints and bones and skin that had never felt such a thing. It was the fall that ripped my innerpatellar tendon off my thighbone. This would later result in “a large lobulated haemotoma demonstrated in the gap,” or enough coagulated blood to make my knee inflate into a full, plump
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grapefruit with a skin of mismatched purple and black coloring of veined marble. Surgery corrected the major damage, but to this day I won’t dance. I’ve been out of physical therapy for nearly a year, and was in the emergency room a month ago for running on my chronically-enflamed knee. Most of the dancing I do now is in my head. I had always expected to resume my practice as a full-time dancer once I arrived on campus, and had highly considered even majoring in modern or ballet. It felt, and still feels, foreign to refer to myself as someone who “used to dance,” removing years of sweat and pain and passion from my identity. I’m grateful, however, for my lack of physical mobility, because it has forced me to be mobile in other ways. In some ways, my identity as a moving, dancing being was actually restrictive in that I never searched far beyond it in order to understand my participation in the world. My physical limitations pushed me to expand in ways I never expected — it has offered me time for passions it is unlikely I’d have pursued had I been able to dance. I’ve had the time and energy to immerse myself in diversity initiatives and activism on campus, transforming inaction into mobilization — a different kind of mobility. My injury pointed me towards the understanding that restricted mobility is so much more than the physical, but the grace and tenacity that a lifetime of dance gave me I try to bring to everything I do, mobile or not.
Photography by Alistair Chew (https://www.facebook.com/AlistairChewPhotography) 21
“The shock of enjoying a full range of movement in one moment and the next, knowing I wouldn’t move for months, still clings to me.” - Laken
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“Finding this newfound freedom of movement felt like waking up. It activated a part of my brain that had long been sleeping.� - Emma
Photography by Alistair Chew (https://www.facebook.com/AlistairChewPhotography) 23
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Flap Ball Change, What?: The Story of a Dancer by Happenstance Written by Emma LaPlante flap ball change: a basic tap dance sequence involving brushing the toe, tapping the toe, and shifting one’s weight between the two feet.
and I felt utterly inadequate. When I finished our first dance rehearsal, both of my two left feet felt betrayed.
When I was a little girl, I took a ballet class at a local dance studio. I must have fallen in love, because I remember practicing arabesques in my kitchen for hours. In my eyes, that little tulle-and-satin tutu was worth its weight in gold. I was graceful and beautiful. I was destined to become a ballerina. I never took a ballet class again.
My year as an Ambassador did not convert me into a dancer, but it gave me something better: it freed me of inhibitions that I didn’t even know I had. I tap danced in a Santa costume; I performed three routines in front of Sleeping Beauty’s castle for the Disneyland Paris It’s A Small World 50th Anniversary celebration; I salsaed. Dancing went from something I resented to something I craved — not just the physicality of it, but the rawness of feeling it evoked in me. I’ve found a certain irony in my experience with the performing arts, musicmaking and dancing alike: far from making me into someone I’m not, performing has let me be a more authentic, less inhibited version of myself. Learning to dance meant learning to connect to the external world with exquisite technicality. Never had I been so hyperaware of my body, my surroundings, the ground, or myself. Finding this newfound freedom of movement felt like waking up. It activated a part of my brain that had long been sleeping.
This is the level of training that I found myself with when, at the end of my junior year in high school, I auditioned for my school’s premier choir, the Ambassadors. I was a singer, but most of my experience was in the shower or my car, and none of that could have prepared me for this group. The Ambassadors won championships. They performed in Europe. The long-term directors’ commitment to the group was so intense that they had both forgone parenthood. I was inescapably reminded of Rachel Berry’s fabulous exclamation in the pilot of Glee: “There is nothing ironic about show choir.” Even more overwhelming than the level of expected emotional investment was the fact that this was show choir, and that meant dancing. Approximately 10 hours a week of it, under the tutelage of a choreographer who had performed in the original Broadway casts of Starlight Express and Meet Me in St. Louis. I was suddenly held to the same standards as girls who’d been in ballet since they were three,
It was a strange phenomenon, this dancing business. It consumed me, exhausted me, and finally electrified me, leaving me with the unshakable sense that I had just done something radical. It certainly made me feel radical, but that’s to be expected. There’s something about lying on a stage, singing Peggy Lee’s “Fever” upside down that tends to have that effect on people.
Photography by Alistair Chew (https://www.facebook.com/AlistairChewPhotography) 25
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Photography by Alistair Chew (https://www.facebook.com/AlistairChewPhotography) 27
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Forsyth and Wallace Here I stand, a grown woman of nineteen unable to cross the street. I face the DUC, motionless, not daring to rebel, not daring to assert myself against the Honda CR-Vs and the Circ coming around the corner. An irreverent Outback flies past and I think: Aren’t they speeding? They have to be speeding. What is the speed limit, anyway—isn’t this a school zone? (For the record, it isn’t.) A girl walks up behind me and enters the traffic undeterred. I am in awe. She is a goddess. She is Frogger. She hops through the chaos and reaches the other side. I tell myself that she’s probably from New York, where the young women are fearless and jaywalking is just walking. I am not from New York. Soon, there is a break in the traffic. Maybe, just this once, I could rebel, too. I could strut into the street like the probable New Yorker. I could be brave and assertive. No one would have to know. I look both ways and take a baby step into the street, but just then a WUPD car pulls up beside me. In that instant, I suddenly imagine my flawless permanent record defaced by this moment of reckless abandon. One count of jaywalking and authority shirking, it would read. Guilty. How could I get into grad school, branded with a scarlet “J”? Would I ever find a job? What would my mother say? With this in mind, I step back onto the curb. I wait for the Draconian red hand to give way to the familiar walking man. I call him Walter the Walker, and we’re kind of friends.
A Poem by Emma LaPlante Illustration by Steph Waldo 29
Desire Paths at Wash. U. A Photo Essay by Miranda Kalish
As Wash. U. students, we are known for our dedication to academics. We know there is no easy route to success, and so we work diligently to reach our full potential. But when it comes to getting around our sprawling campus, we have no problem cutting corners. We prefer to carve out our own paths — desire paths — to access the places on campus we frequent.
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Disability Access at Wash.u: My Six Weeks on Crutches Written by Meg Russell
Illustration by Alicia Yang
I am one of the lucky ones: I broke my foot a week before school resumed this year and arrived back at Washington University on crutches. Which part of that situation makes me “lucky”? Well, it’s not the bit about the broken foot or the crutches. But I am lucky because I had my accident before entering the grips of our school’s relatively ineffective accommodation system for students with disabilities. I could prepare — and by “prepare,” I mostly mean I could borrow my family’s car for the semester, something very out of the ordinary for me. As a student who experienced a temporary disability, I can by no means speak for all students with disabilities who are on campus or would like to be on campus, and that is not my motive. Rather, by sharing my personal experiences I hope to increase dialogue on how to create the truly diverse and welcoming community Washington University openly strives to be.
that allowed me to ride in the medical escort van. That sounded very helpful — until I actually started using the system. While the drivers were kind and as helpful as they could be, the fact of the matter is that the system is not well developed, equipped or staffed enough to accommodate more than a few students. With only one van running, it is impossible to accommodate students who need to get to different places at the same time. Furthermore, students are not able to schedule rides in advance, so they never know if, when they call to be picked up in the morning or between classes, it will be possible at the time they are counting on. Finally, the hours of service and locations the van can reach are restricted, so unless my appointments or classes fell within the ranges served, I was on my own.
For some students, physical disability can render an education at Wash. U. impossible.
The first thing I noticed pulling up to the parking garage near my dormitory with a handicapped parking tag hanging from my front mirror was the fact that there was actually no parking spot in which I could use the tag. The garage that all residents of the South 40 with cars use has no disability parking! When I asked one of the parking directors on duty about it, he had no answers, and that was that. Since Washington University receives hundreds of thousands of dollars in federal research funds,1 it is required by law to follow Section 504 of the Americans with Disabilities Act to have accessible parking for its students in some way, shape or form.2,3 Despite this law, I have not found that. A couple days later it was time for me to figure out how I was possibly going to get around to all of my classes. Student Health Services had put my name on a list
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In the end, I resorted to using my own car (and gas money) to get to most of my commitments around campus. While that bothered me a little bit, I was mostly grateful to have another option other than the school-provided transportation, which made me keenly aware that others in positions similar to or more difficult than mine are not necessarily as fortunate. In comparison to the program at Washington University, students with disabilities at Yale are provided a 24-hour-a-day van service, while Stanford offers such students golf carts — two universities that our school is proud to rival in caliber.4,5 While a complete ressurection of the medical escort system here may be unfathomable at this time, even adding one van and one driver to the job would go a long way. Architecturally, Washington University tries hard to be welcoming. Ramps are present at a lot of high traffic areas, although some are of questionable use, given their angle of incline and restricted width — for example the ramp
between buildings in the HIG residential college. The school’s new buildings all contain functional elevators, although every once in a while I will notice an automatic door that opens onto a set of stairs, which seems to defeat the purpose of even having the automatic door in the first place. The old buildings are more challenging, although with some experimentation it is often possible to find accessible routes, such as using the January tunnel to get into Duncker. Yet there is one very striking problem related to building accessibility. Every year it is a tight squeeze financially for me to attend Wash. U. In order to keep cost reasonable, I must live in a traditional dorm. This meant that, for six weeks, I crutched up two flights of stairs multiple times a day to get to my room. I fell a lot. While Residential Life offered to move me to a modern dorm with an elevator, that was not an affordable possibility for me. Putting up with stairs on crutches for six weeks was unpleasant, but I knew it would end and I would be just fine. However, I just kept wondering about potential students with more permanent disabilities and without many financial resources for whom it would be impossible to attend Washington University given the expense of making it more accessible for them. This socioeconomic component combined with several physically inhibiting factors adds up to a fairly inaccessible campus for students with permanent disabilities. For me, my limitations were temporary, so the struggles I faced were annoying at worst. For others, such circumstances could render an education at Washington University impossible. That thought had never occurred to me before I was forced to experience its implications firsthand. In part, because we as students are made very aware of the “disability resources” offered through Cornerstone during orientation and by way of their public promotions, I was led to believe that Washington University has a comprehensive program for students with disabilities. However, Cornerstone’s focus is placed heavily on mental disabilities rather than physical disabilities, which I have come to know deserve just as much attention on a college campus.
The actual layout of Beaumont 3.
concerning diversity: “Washington University is a global institution. Our mission is to make it the best educational and research institution for everyone. When we do, the benefits will be felt by the campus community, the St. Louis region and beyond.”6 Now, let’s help our school achieve this goal. Let’s discuss what diversity really means, and the enormous range of people real diversity must include. Let’s have the courage to continue this dialogue and make the changes our university desperately needs in order to be the inclusive community it wants. Sources: 1 “Accessible Parking.” Welcome to the Americans With Disabilities Act National Network, 2014. Web. 25 Oct. 2014. 2 “ADA Q&A: SECTION 504 & POSTSECONDARY EDUCATION.” Pacer Center for Children with Disabilities. Web. 25 Oct. 2014. 3 “Accessible Parking.” Welcome to the Americans With Disabilities Act National Network, 2014. Web. 25 Oct. 2014. 4 “DisGo Cart Service.” Office of Accessible Education, Stanford University. Web. 27 Oct. 2014. 5 “Campus Parking and Transportation Information.” Yale University, 2014. Web. 27 Oct. 2014. 6 “Mission.” Diversity at WUSTL. Washington University in St. Louis, n.d. Web. 26 Oct. 2014.
We here at Wash. U. are fortunate to attend a truly great university with a powerful mission statement
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WatchinG U The campus surveillance state(ment)
Conspicuously positioned behind intimidating spiked fences or mounted high above busy sidewalks, the campus surveillance network oozes paranoia. The system is a feat of technological capacity, leaving no access point, face or passing license plate unobserved.
A Photo Essay by Keaton Wetzel & David Gilmore 35
Audrey Cole is a senior studying computer
Eva Nip is a freshman studying in the
Miranda Hines is a sophomore studying English
Libby Perold is a junior studying comparative arts
Claire Huttenlocher is a junior majoring in
Carrick Reddin is a junior studying architecture
David Gilmore is a senior studying economics
Meg Russell is a sophomore studying anthropology
science. Contact her at audreycole@wustl.edu.
literature with a creative writing focus and political science. Contact her at mirandahines@wustl.edu.
urban studies and minoring in legal studies. Contact her at chuttenlocher@wustl.edu.
and environmental studies. You can contact him at dgilmore@wustl.edu.
Miranda Kalish is a sophomore studying
and design. She works on layout design and illustrations for ISSUES.
and international development studies. Contact him at creddin@wustl.edu.
and psychology. Contact her at russellmegs@wustl.edu.
Victoria Sgarro is a senior studying comparative
communication design. Feel free to contact her at mirandakalish@wustl.edu.
literature, communication design and Chinese language & culture. She is editor-in-chief of ISSUES Magazine. Contact her at vrsgarro@wustl.edu.
Emma LaPlante is a freshman studying political
Laken Sylvander is a sophomore studying
science and English at Washington University in St. Louis. She loves writing poems but dislikes waiting to cross the street. She would love to hear from you, and you can contact her at emmalaplante@wustl.edu.
Erin Lee is a freshman studying in the College of Arts & Sciences. Contact her at erinlee@wustl.edu.
Edward Lim is a freshman studying
French and women, gender and sexuality studies. Contact her at l.sylvander@wustl.edu.
Steph Waldo is a junior studying communication
design and film and media studies. Feel free to shoot her a message anytime at stephanie.waldo@gmail.com
Keaton Wetzel is president of ISSUES. He’s a
communication design. Contact the creature at edwardlim@wustl.edu.
senior and an aspiring city planner studying political science and urban studies. Contact him at kwetzel@ wustl.edu.
Duyen (Chanel) Luu Hai is a junior
Alicia Yang is a freshman studying chemistry and
studying communication design. She can be reached at duyen.luuhai@wustl.edu
Nichole Murphy graduated last May with a BA in history and anthropology and a minor in architecture.
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Sam Fox school. Contact her at eva.nip@wustl.edu.
possibly english lit. Contact her at aliciayang@wustl.edu.
George Zhang is a junior studying architecture. Contact him at george.zhang@wustl.edu.
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Photograph by Victoria Sgarro 37
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