Make Muse Issue 2 by Make Muse

Young Women Smashing Societal Standards

issue 2

makemuse.online

M A K E Director: Maura Sheedy

Dear Reader,

Editors: Sienna Brancato, Rachael Davies, Kathryn Hornyak, Caitlin Panarella, and Maura Sheedy

I’m pleased to welcome you to issue 2 of Make Muse. You know what they say, first is the worst, second is the best! Second also equates to sophomore or “wise fool.” I’d like to think Make Muse has both a sage and playful spirit.

Designers: Bridget Halliday, Luiza Sandru, Maura Sheedy

Since Make Muse was birthed last year, the number one question I receive from readers, social media followers, and my own friends and family is about our name. What could Make Muse possibly mean?!

Photographer: Melina Triffon Writers: Alexandria DeVlaeminick Kelly Friday Morgan Gjoen Olivia Jimenez Olivia Land

Heidi Perez-Moreno Maddie Rizzo Melanie Rodriguez Kendall Rotar Michela Sottura

M U S E Contributors: Ellie Golding Oie Holm Emma Ivy Emma Lawrence Brooke Lopez Bea Louise

Cira Mancuso Nicole Mior Ekaterina Muniz Christina Paul Bessie Rubenstein Kendra Russell

T E A M All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher. Editing by Rachael Davies, Kathryn Hornyak, Caitlin Panarella, and Maura Sheedy. Book Design by Bridget Halliday, Luiza Sandru, and Maura Sheedy. Cover Image by Melina Triffon.

Manchit Kaur Sachdeva Hazel Sim

Well, there’s a lot of things. Make Muse sounds like “make music” and comes from a line in Arthur O’Shaugnessy’s poem, “Ode.” The first line reads, “We are the music makers.” The first stanza has been my phone wallpaper for years and serves as my personal mantra as to how I want to live my life. I like to tell people that Make Muse is, “the muse to make a change,” and features photos, writing, media meant to inspire you to go out and do something. Here are some other interpretations: Make Muse is also the idea that you are the muse of your own life. Make Muse is transforming the notion of the muse into an interesting- rather than one dimensional- person. Make Muse is actually going out doing something because of what you’ve seen on the internet or in a book. Make Muse is not morphing into the dominant masculinity and owning femininity. Make Muse is the marriage of activism and art. Make Muse is knowing there’s more than looks. Make Muse is smashing society. Make Muse is the time between teenage-hood and adulthood. The reality meets mythological. The intelligent meets creative. Make Muse is a breeding ground for makers. Make Muse is about fostering the interests, hobbies, and curiosities you have. Make Muse is a renaissance- a rebirth. And I think a lot of these ideas relate to the idea that it could be for the *wise fool*, too. I called a friend recently (on a Friday night, no less) and chatted for hours. She happened to inquire about Make Muse’s name - of course- during the conversation and my definition of its meaning. I told her that Make Muse is whatever you take from it. Whatever you want it to be. Whatever it makes you feel, consider, or do. **Take note that I said Friday night. I’m sitting here in my pajamas, drinking tea. But I also kind of want to be at a preschool because I’m dying to do crafts right now. If age is wisdom, then my senior-citizen tendencies probably are making my IQ soar. However, there might be something foolish about having an intense need to DIY or even starting a ~print~ magazine in this day and age. Wise fool. Weird mods. I kind of hate the word “founder.” It’s just a publication that’s a collection of interesting things. It’s up to you to find out what Make Muse is to you. founder of Make Muse

Make e h t & team e s u M

This issue was made possible by:

Book printed and bound in the United States of America First printed in May 2019. For permission requests, write to Make Muse at hello@makemuse.online. Ordering Information: Quantity sales. Special discounts are available on quantity purchases by business entities, non-profits, associations, and others. For details, contact Make Muse at hello@makemuse.online.

Beauty & Body

#natural #beauty #nofilter #selfie #realme #smiling

CHECK YOUR POST

Let’s see. Outfit— check, it’s not too prudish or too slutty. Makeup—

check, it looks like I’m wearing some but not too much. Hair— check, it’s lightened so I look like I just came from the beach, but it doesn’t look too fake. I pop my hips back and stand with my legs slightly apart, so it looks like I have a thigh gap. I put my hand on my hip to make my waist and arm look skinnier. I arch my back, push out my chest, and put my hair over my ear. Pressing my tongue to the roof of my mouth and puckering my lips creates the illusion of cheekbones.

BLOTCHY

I stand in front of my bedroom mirror, turning it so no one can see my clunky soccer trophies or the Legos I was playing with earlier with my sister Chelsea. Whenever we start building with them my room looks like a tornado struck, which is especially true now that we’re working on a Lego plane and the Death Star at the same time.

MUCH ?!

I position my arm at a good angle and tilt the hand holding my phone slightly down so that the picture isn’t at an angle that could give me a double chin. Last time I submitted a post the Guys told me I looked hideous. I looked in the mirror afterward— and of course, they were right. My ripped jeans and red tube top leave my midriff bare, so I practice sucking in but trying not to make it obvious. If your lower ribs pop out in the picture they can usually tell what you’re doing. The Guys told me that too.

words by CAITLIN PANARELLA

I used to have to guess at what to post. I used to have to hear about it when I got it wrong. I used to erase photos hours after sharing them. But that was before CheckYourPost.

BAGS ! FAT CHIN . . . SP

OTS

RE MO TS?! O SP . TOO SMALL. . ! TOO BLUGHHH

Every girl in the ninth grade seemed to find out about the app at the same time. How could we not? It was literally the answer to all of our problems. Before, whenever we posted anything, boys at school would call us names and point out every flaw. I had lost count of the number of times I’d found Abigail crying in the bathroom and had to hug her until she calmed down. Sometimes even a best friend doesn’t have the right words. The boys rarely said anything to our faces, but their online personas weren’t shy.

LONGER TUCK IN

Warning: This piece discusses topics including body dysmorphia, negative body image, and cyberbullying.

#fat #wrinkles #spots #gross #flaws #tired #ugly #unprett

With every ugly word I felt uglier and uglier. I wanted to curl up

into a ball, become enshrouded and enveloped in a cocoon until I emerged a butterfly. They’re beautiful. They also have wings.

had the app, and you could tell who didn’t because they

The promo video on YouTube felt like a godsend. Finally, we wouldn’t have to guess how our post would be received; we’d know.

didn’t have the Seal of Approval badge

Girls smiled and told us how they’d kicked the bullies to the curb and gotten a boyfriend after downloading CheckYourPost. They had so many likes on their posts— way more than I had ever had— and everyone seemed to like them. A friendly-sounding man’s voice filled in the background while before-and-after photos played out on screen.

typically stayed away from the pictures

“Don’t know if your selfie or photo is good enough to post?—a disappointed-looking girl threw her phone down on her bed, then twisted her torso in front of a mirror— Unsure if you look desirable enough to get a call back from that boy you like?— that same girl stared at a boy across the cafeteria; he seemed to have no idea she existed— With CheckYourPost, a community forum of handsome guys have volunteered to either check or deny your potential post.—Rows and rows of smiling, handsome men, getting an alert on their phones and getting to work— Lower than a passing grade of 70% checks and you’ll be glad that one’s in the Deleted folder...

Soon everyone

Show the best version of yourself with Check

from CheckYourPost. The boys at school that had the Seal; who were they, as high school boys, to challenge The Guys- 20 or 30-year-olds- that told us how hot we

I pull up Restructure and CoverUp and start looking at filters,

looked? Instead, they finally started calling

eventually settling on one. I smooth out the ridge of my nose.

us back and telling us we looked pretty.

I shave a couple inches off here and there. I erase my pores and soften the angles of my jaw.

I had never been pretty before. Sometimes I feel like some kind of precise artist, perfecting a The first time I sent in a picture to Check

painting. A model, being prepped for the runway. A statue, with

YourPost for The Guys to review, it was a

The Guys chipping away at me until I’m flawless.

birthday post for my best friend Allie, and I hadn’t changed anything before sending it

Other times, though, I feel like some vicious butcher perfecting

in. I didn’t even hit 40%, but they helped

meat for sale. My Uncle Jack is a butcher, and the way he angles

me so much; they told me exactly what to

the slices of venison on the rack, hiding any imperfections, making

fix.

the pieces seem bigger than they really are, just reminds me of how I do the same thing. But instead, I make myself smaller.

Guy 458: You’re supposed to surround yourself with ugly people to make yourself

Sort of satisfied, I send it back. The results come in more quickly

look hotter, not the other way around.

this time, almost as if the Guys were ravenous and I finally fed

Guy 945: Trim a couple inches off that

them.

nose, Pinocchio, please and thank you. Guy 182: Hack off twenty pounds from her waist and cut her thighs in half, and maybe she’d be passable. I’m going to make myself better this time.

I hit 80%! I start flipping through the comments.

“Could be worse.” worse.” “Could be “Decent.” “Decent.” “I’d go go out “I’d outwith withher.” her

let out an enormous gust of a breath, feeling all of my worries drain out of me with it. My spine

Someone knocks

relaxes and I let my head hang back against the chair back. Catching myself, I quickly straighten my back in the chair and hold my head out to accentuate my neck. Grinning, I hit “share post.” Almost immediately, a flood of likes comes rushing into my feed and almost every comment is a boy from my class saying how good I look. Even Freddy messaged me! Last week he

on my door,

told me I looked like a skank with a resting bitch face, but this time he said, “Nice legs hon.” Maybe he’ll

breaking me out

ask me out sometime. A smile blossoms across my face. Finally: a good photo of me. People will get to know the inside if they like what’s on the outside. I hope. I keep refreshing the page to see each new wave of likes coming in. As I wait, I notice something— I forgot to arch my back and push out my chest. I look flat and undesirable and… The more I look at the photo, the more I

of the reverie.

see how awful I look. I think about all the

“Come in,” I call, already

reasons I never should have even considered

clicking away to delete the

putting this online:

post. My mom opens the

I stare at the phone, and whisper to myself, “Try again ugly.”

Author's note:

door, looking confusedly at

I wrote this story to express the dangers of the male gaze and the way it

her phone.

informs young women’s use of social media. Not only are “The Guys” verbally abusive, their language is violent and reduces this girl to her

More whispers follow, and I’m not even sure who’s saying them anymore.

“Hey sweetie, who’s that girl

body and how it appeals to them.The app CheckYourPost is not real;

They sound like my voice though.

you posted a picture of?”

I made it up.

“How could you think you looked good? You look like a beached

“Mom,

However, many people asked me if it was a real thing after reading the piece, which speaks to how social media and societal standards already

whale.” that’s me.” “Your hair is so disgusting you’d be better off bald.

reduce women and girls to their bodies and sex appeal.Those who are subjected to this phenomenon, however, have the power to change that reality by reframing how we use social media and how we see ourselves. If this already feels like real life, we need to demand better.

She's a Rainbow: How Changing My Hair Changed Who I Was

Whenever I look back over old photos of myself, my hair is the first thing I notice. It’s my touchstone for working out when the photo was taken, more so than who I’m with or what clothes I’m wearing. A small child with a feathery white blonde bob darkened into a honey blonde adolescent. I turned seventeen and left a conservative school, bringing with it a freedom to dye the tips of my hair every bright colour I could get my hands on. Bleach entered the fray and I spent eighteen months lightening my hair to try to achieve the silvery blonde I admired so much on Insta models. After realising that was never going to work, I went redhead after a break up. Every now and then I added a splash of scarlet or magenta to my ginger base. My most recent change was lopping off my damaged, straw-like layers into a pixie cut, still keeping the red colour that I’ve decided is my favourite of them all. I associate all my various hairstyles with certain time frames. I know I broke up with my boyfriend with a blonde ombre, but graduated university a year later with long red hair. I went on my year abroad with mid-length dark blonde bangs, but returned several tubes of bleach later with white blonde cascades down my back. That is what I see when I look at the photos: the experiences, the time stamps, the age of the girl underneath the hair. Being able to adapt my hair colour whenever I like gave me a real buzz; it helped me bond with friends - except for the time I introduced myself to my best friend’s new flat mates by staining their bathtub bright red. Changing my hair colour was a part of developing my own identity. It also helped that doing something dramatic with my appearance fed my teen vanity with frequent compliments. Maybe that’s why since school I’ve always been attracted to bold colours, but when I went blonde I suddenly got noticed.

word

hael y Rac

Davie

People would turn their heads if the light hit my vivid blonde head the right way. People stopped me on the street if I looked lost or confused (this happened a lot) and asked if I needed help. Older men always thought I was at least two years younger than I was. Tutors were surprised when I raised my hand in class and assumed I was in the wrong place when I started taking honours level seminars. The message was clear: Rach with blonde hair was just a little bit less capable, less intelligent, and more in need of someone to help her. Whenever I added a bright colour to the mix, which tended to happen whenever I got bored, my friends would roll their eyes at my impulsiveness. My weekly grocery shopping often included a bottle of blue or purple dye, “just in case.” Often strangers meeting me with whatever Schwarzkopf Ultra Bright had caught my eye would seem almost embarrassed. Maybe it was the conservative area I lived in, but their double take at the bright strands of my hair would inevitably be followed by a pantomime-like glance away at something above my head. I always winked at such onlookers, laughing at their surprise. If anything, I liked the fact that I must have looked different from what they expected. At least they weren’t patronising me with directions to the bus station I walked to every morning The first time I rocked ginger out in public, I didn’t really expect anything other than compliments or surprise from my friends. And I got both, because trust me – ginger really does suit me. What came along with it was

the confirmation of hair colour stereotypes that I had never taken seriously before. My excitable high-pitched voice that always speeds up when I get passionate about something was no longer a silly blonde getting hysterical, but rather an aggressive redhead getting annoyed for no reason. People shoved into me more in nightclubs and I got dirty looks from other girls in public bathrooms. It doesn’t happen constantly--I’m hardly a social pariah just because my hair is darker now--but it’s enough for me to notice the difference between the blonde Rach of 2016 and the redhead Rach of 2018. The most overt change has to have been in the last few months; a new pixie cut to go with my move to a new country was a pretty big change for me. My first supermarket excursion in Berlin was a quick one; wearing a purple playsuit and some heeled boots, I grabbed some wine and chocolate to head over to a friend’s, along with a couple of cans of deodorant. The cashier behind the counter looked at my shopping and smirked. “Date night?” he asked. I laughed and replied, “Not tonight.”

“Ah well. If you don’t try and look so masculine, maybe it’ll happen soon.”

I blinked. Did I hear him right? I asked him to repeat himself and he smiled and said it again in a kind tone.

It was genuine advice, as if I had gone to him with dating woes in the first place. I glared at him but said nothing, paying quickly and then walking out, typing furiously to friends.

The next day I flipped through profile pictures, rapidly cycling through style after style. It’s unbelievable to me that something I change with hardly any thought, as a pure expression of creativity and fun, can actually make some people see me as a completely different person. I love to express myself through my appearance, but at the end of the day, I’m the same woman no matter what my hair colour is. Ultimately, the question comes down to what people are basing their opinions off of. Is it the words coming out of my mouth, or just the colour or style of the hair framing them? The experiences I’ve detailed here make up just one example of a much wider and more serious problem. Everyone makes snap judgements when they see anything for the first time, but the change in how people respond to me according to how I’ve decided to wear my

hair in any given month highlights how intrinsically linked appearance is to women’s place in society. Whether I’m a dumb blonde or an angry redhead, a multi-coloured punk or a short-haired tomboy, I tick their boxes according to what they want to see. And it needs to stop. Next time you feel yourself making a judgement based on someone’s appearance, whether it’s what they wear or how they act, the colour of their skin or their sexual orientation – stop and think. How much information do you actually have with which to form that opinion? My hair colour and my experience changing it may seem trivial, but it speaks to a wider issue. People who disregarded who they thought I was as a blonde never got to know the me that cut all of my hair off, and vice versa. Would their opinion of me be different if they had seen a another hairstyle?

Don’t let a snap judgement prevent you from seeing others' truest selves.

And to anyone who feels those snap judgements interrupting their day, remember: something will never not suit you because once you have it, it’s what you have. If you met me now, you would never think, This girl would look way better with long blonde hair. You would simply acknowledge me as a redhead with a pixie cut. Worry less, and do how you please, regardless of what you might think other people will say. Red hair or blue, pixie cut or waist-length curls–know that your worth is based on what’s underneath the haircut.

FASH-FASHION ION

FASH47

Cyclicality, Feminism, and Dana Frid

because she did (though she’s not a soccer mom). My mom words by MAURA SHEEDY

I See Both Sides like Chanel

my mom would wear is

has the same one- but ~vintage~ because it was actually from the 80s- that everyone had suddenly picked up at their local Urban Outfitters. The weird part was that even though I originally thought they were ugly, I ended up showing up to school in my mom’s jacket a few weeks later. Repetition! The teenage tendency to jump on trends! Mixing and matching decades! Cyclicality! The interesting thing about

Fashion is fun because it is old and

style and fashion is that when

new at the same time.

something “comes back” or

History repeats itself, the economic

the exact same way as it did

cycle rises and falls, and the earth

before. Nuances, technology,

orbits around the sun time after

and pop culture alter the old to

time. This cyclicality influences

today, combining longstanding

fashion’s ups and downs and like-

trends with modern influences.

wise parallels the rise and fall of

My mom probably wore her

Gucci Kills

politics, business, and movements.

Patagonia with leg warmers in

Flowery designs like lacy tex-

upon the advent of her Tumblr

the 80s. I was wearing mine

tiles in the museums and can-

account that she began as a

I remember a few years when

with skinny jeans and converse

did slogans similar to what you

budding artist and

Patagonia's re-emerged into the

in 2013.

hear on Spotify rap playlists

photographer.

re-emerges, it never comes in

mainstream. When everyone at my

I fell in love with Dana Frid’s designs, like many other of her fans, on social media. Likewise, Frid herself fell in love with fashion on social media. The then-seventeen-year-old discovered the world of fashion

characterize Cairo designer

high school started wearing

I’ve come to look for and

Dana Frid’s self-named line of

The world of Tumblr was not

them, I thought they were hideous

appreciate this cyclicality and

t-shirts, sweatshirts, and pants

just a way for her to share her

and soccer-mom-esque. I realized

the concept of multiple eras

that brilliantly blend elegance,

creative projects- it was her

a few days later that the reason I

feeding a future one, in both

wittiness, street style, and

window into the western world

thought it looked like something

fashion and feminism.

youth music culture.

and high fashion.

Designer Dana Frid exhibits this phenomenon particularly 20

well in both areas.

As an Egyptian native who grew up

Her designs are fresh and avant-

Frid does not ignore the feminine

surrounded by political unrest, she

garde, but also relatable- something I

connotations that lace, embroidery,

dreamed of venturing into a creative

rarely feel when I look at the fashion

and flowers have. She embraces

career herself but was told time and

world. Her overtly femme line caught

this notion of traditionalism,

time again by her peers that fashion,

my attention for its delicate details

twisting it with her clever slogans

photography, and other like-minded

remnant of the Baroque artistic era.

to show that the ‘feminine’ is just a

fields were not careers- they were

Flexing on Bitches As Hard As I Can

construct. Femme can mean dain-

only pastimes. The Tumblr world

Her works- from first glance- seem

tiness, but it can also mean the wit

showed her that her immediate

dainty, just like a lacy dress or a

and cleverness of a young woman

circles were wrong and that fashion

decorated teacup. The designs feature

who does not stand for bullshit.

was a vibrant, flourishing industry

things like flowers, animals, and

She gives those who undermine the

in the Parises, Milans, Londons, and

patterns and claims to be inspired by

feminine a taste of their own medi-

New Yorks of the world.

tarot cards, cherubs, and Ottoman

cine, using the traditional connota-

There is something special

Her slogans a selection of rap

and Persian Art. Since she launched

tion in an ironic and original way.

about someone who is able to

and R&B lyrics that call out

own and subvert the degrad-

fashion big-names, comments

ing labels they may be given.

you make under your breath,

commentary, transcending the

Oftentimes, women push for

and other blunt truths-

typical trajectory for clothing’s

equality by striving to be like

represent the ideals of a strong,

purpose. Her designs are a

men. They started wearing

independent young woman

scare shaking up the fashion

pants in the 1890s, cut their

who is a critic of culture and

world and continually remind

hair in short bobs in the

fashion with a worldly

me that fashion’s relationship

1920s, and donned power suits

perspective.

to time and culture plays an

At 21, she began producing and

her line of T-shirts, which has since

selling her designs from her home.

expanded to include pants and sweat-

Quickly, her apparel caught the

shirts, Frid has continued to make

attention of Vogue and Harper’s

fantasized femininity a recurring part

Bazaar.

of her aesthetic.

Flowers can be dainty, but they can also have thorns. Puppies can be cute, but they later turn big and bold. Lace is lovely, but it can double as a rope. Embroidery is delicate, but let’s not forget that it is sewn with a pointy needle. Femme designs are regal- and are ruled by a queen.

in the 1980s, all in an effort

important part in our world.

for equality. Striving for mas-

Her artfully analytical eye

Moreover, Frid reminds me

culinity, however, perpetuates

comes from her Egyptian roots.

that an outsider’s perspective

the idea that femininity is the

Frid’s environment developed

can reveal the flaws of a

“other” and “less important.”

her outsider’s perspective of

system.

Being less feminine does not

the fashion world and allowed

mean that you are inferior.

her to see fashion’s limitations.

Frid’s designs capture

Frid’s femme designs own this

She clearly understands and

re-emerging fashion trends of

ideology, embracing femme

adores artistic designs and

the past century as well. We

symbols instead of trying to

creative direction, yet she is

see an influence from the lav-

flee from them.

not immune to the fact that

ish dresses of the Victorian era

fashion can appear frivolous

elite. We see recycled slouchy

As Frid demonstrates, you don’t

and remains exclusive. Her

crew necks from the 80s and

have to reject femininity to be a

parents and peers dissuaded

slogan T-shirts from the 90s.

feminist. Third wave feminism

her fashion dream and Frid

She remixes these with a dash

exemplified and embraced this

knows why. However, that

of 21st-century lyrics to com-

concept of choice after a rejection

discouragement did not stop

plete a collection that is a mini

of traditional gender norms had

her from using her designs as

capsule of fads that have made

defined the previous wave.

more than apparel: they are

a comeback. 23

Am Not the One to Sit Around and Be Played The reality is that clothes (and so much more) are cyclical. You wear your momâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s old sweatshirts, your dadâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s old boots, and thrift shops are

We change our clothing style,

forevermore. Clothes rise and fall. However, the meaning of clothing choices, their sayings, and their designs, allow us to move culture

we change the culture:

forward and pursue new, innovative, and progressive ideas. The other day, I pulled on flare

They want equal pay. We are

something or make your beliefs

jeans. Not too long ago, I wore

fighting for all womxn of all

known, fashion can be a way to

skinny jeans. Today, I am sur-

identities to receive equal rights,

do so. Think about your clothes

rounded by those sporting mom

equal dignity, and equal

as a representation of your

jeans. Perhaps tomorrow, we will

representation.

interests, thoughts, and beliefsbut also the present and future of

all be wearing culotte-style jeans.

we are the changemakers.

You may not be into fashion

society. Suddenly, fashion seems

In the past, women won the right

or care at all about what you

to embody a meaningful ability to

to vote. They then argued for birth

wear, and that is perfectly okay.

express something without words.

control and sexual liberation.

However, if you do want to say 25

I Wear What I Want I Wear What I Want

words by Nicole Mior

I will never forget the rage that electrified my body when my father looked me in the eyes and told me that the way a woman dresses should reflect the man she is with. I love my father, I thought to myself. How could someone I think so highly of have such a naive view of women? After a lot of arguing and a lot of thinking, I finally found an answer. As everyone I talked to about this would tell me, he acted this way because he is an old-school Italian. Problem solved.

Exceptâ&#x20AC;Ś. Is that not really the entirety of the problem? Have

women not made any progress since the 1900s, when their only role was to clean the house and tend to their children? The archetype of the female has pushed through so many boundaries and defeated so many limitations that the gender has been attached with with over the eras. News flash: we are in the twenty-first century. Man is not about to start dictating what we can and cannot dress ourselves in. Weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve seen it in history, and we continue to see it every single day. Women of different sexualities, religions, and ethnicities, often attach feelings of shame with the clothes they wear. Gay men get criticized for dressing too feminine, just as Queer women are generalized as too masculine. Muslims get stereotyped for the simple wearing of the hijab, Indian women are often embarrassed to be wrapped in the beauty of their culture, just as the white female gets slut-shamed for showing off her curves. No matter when in time or where in the world, femme individuals are judged. I am a lover of all things fashion. I am a feminist. I am a woman. I am a person. When I think about fashion, I think about designers and trends and colors and details. What I do not think about is how I am going to be perceived by the man walking down the street who sees me on my Monday morning walk to campus. 27

together, into another societal scapegoat of degrading the idea of the femme.

As women, why should we be concerned about the thoughts going through the minds of people who could be spending their time thinking about anything the slightest bit more important? We shouldn’t have to be thinking of the judgments of others, is what is going on in their brain really any of our business? No. But, what is our business – and by us, I mean me, you, your mother, father, sister, brother, teacher, co-worker, boss – and what we should be judging, is the way society justifies its interference with the ever-progressing fight for feminism. And how something as small as the mini skirt a woman chooses to express herself with can set back a lifetime’s worth of fighting.

Despite all of this, I believe that as feminists, it is important that we criticize our own selves as much as we examine the rest of society. I mean, let’s face it, we have all been there. We have all judged someone else because of their style choices, and we have all been untrue to ourselves when we refuse to wear what we want because of the fear of others. In order for the state of women to progress, us as women have to take part in the progression. We must stop demining one another, and we must not succumb to the mentalities of the bitter men that try to confine us. And it’s not just men – it’s humans in general. It’s everyone who likes Kim Kardashian's nude selfies on Instagram one day yet is making rude comments about the girl on the bus who chose not to wear a bra the next.

I wear what I want.” ell my father. “I wear what I want.” I tell my father.

He laughs and tells me that is okay, but that I shouldn’t ask a man for his opinion and then get mad that the answer is not what I want to hear. As if belittling an entire population of gender is something someone should want to say. I think about the times I have been told not to buy my friends a gift because, “Would their partner let them wear that?” I think about the times I’ve used the line “I have a boyfriend,” in which men have responded that it must be a lie because “Why would you be wearing that shirt if you weren’t single?” I think about the fear of falling in love with someone, because what am I to do with my closet of sheer tops and strapless dresses that I love so dearly? I think about the heaviness of the shirt woman has to carry on her back. I think about feminism.

Fashion is about artistic expression – it is a personal representation that is limited to the dresser. Others can interpret this form of art, but only through their own perspective. Just as “no means no,” a low-cut shirt does by no means mean yes. A woman walking into a bar wearing high heel stilettos and a tight black latex dress does by no indication make her a slut, just as a woman walking into a room wearing a cultural uniform does not make her a prude. Society has a funny way of attaching the individual woman with a constructed reputation of generalization.

The next time you see a woman wearing a fishnet top, tell her that you love her figure. When the next woman is wearing a piece of her culture, tell her she is beautiful. When you see your roommate walking towards the fridge in her sweatpants at midnight, remind her that she is born for the runway. Because the pieces of faric that are stitched together through a system of machines in a factory do not and cannot make up or discredit the beauty that every woman obtains. We need to remind ourselves and others that fashion is a form of art. When society interconnects the notion of woman and fashion, we should be linking Coco Chanel and Anna Wintour to their legacy and their work, not connotating the work with a judge of character. Fashion is about more than who is wearing what, it’s about who designed it and what it means in terms of the state of society. Let’s stop assuming that a woman’s choice of clothes has anything to do with the reflection of her intentions or her character, and start seeing it as a means of performance and creativity. Let’s recognize fashion for what it is meant to present, and not let it get caught between the common person and the protest for equality.

Make an oath to yourself

I think about it a lot. I think about my

dad, I think about men in general, I think about women and I think about clothes. I think about how strangely it all ties in

Make an oath to yourself

to never let anyone dictate your choices – even if it is something as small as what you wear – and repeat it to yourself in the mirror every morning when you are brushing your teeth. The next time a man, woman, friend, enemy, teacher, co-worker, or stranger makes a comment on the style you choose to express your femininity, look them in the eyes and say …

“I wear what I want.”

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MARGARET MARGARET GACH interview GACH MARGARET GACH Margaret Gach is the editor in chief of The Georgetown Voice, Georgetown’s largest student-run newsmagazine, established in 1969. She is a senior from Shrewsbury, Massachusetts, majoring in Science, Technology, and International Affairs. The Voice publishes in print every two weeks, with a distribution of a thousand issues, and online every day. Its distinctive aspects include its modern and fresh design elements as well as its long-form investigative features.

Gach had no journalism experience before coming to college but participated in the “original oratory” category of speech and debate, as well as her high school robotics club. She always had an interest in news, politics, and writing, but didn’t expect to write for a college newspaper until she was recruited to join The Voice. Gach joined the news section as a freshman, subsequently becoming the news editor, the managing editor, and now the editor in chief. For her, the greatest reward of the job is “seeing my name at the top of the masthead and being like, I may not have written any of these pieces, I may not have drawn any of these designs, but it was at least partially my effort that brought every single one of these pieces of content to life.”

1) Describe the climate related to gender within your organization. What is your paper's history with female staffers?

We were a publication that was created, the year of the whole Georgetown campus becoming co-ed. So obviously it began as a boys’ club because there just weren’t that many women. From what I’ve been able to tell in the archives, we’ve had a pretty balanced gender ratio throughout the years. We’ve had women EICs for many years, but then in the spring of 2015 was when we had one of our last women EICs before, there was a little bit of a takeover which dramatically changed the format of the Voice, and that was spearheaded by a man who was backed by a group of men. For the past couple years, especially when I was coming in as a freshman, what people had noticed is that it had reverted back to being a boys’ club. And so we didn’t have another woman in the head position until the magnificent Caitlyn Cobb last fall. And since then, I’ve only been the second woman EIC since that dramatic revamping in some ways of the Voice, and from discussions I’ve had with other women, that was because of how that situation was handled and who then became in charge. But what I’ve noticed after the past few months especially is that we’ve really been able to create a community for the women of the Voice. The number of women taking on leadership positions is very inspirational to me and really made me feel very supported in my current role, even when I still feel like maybe I won’t be listened to by some people because I am a woman, or I will be the aggressive bitch. In 36

which some cases I am, but I don’t always see that as necessarily a bad thing when you have to keep a publication running.

2) Have you experienced any sexism while on the job or noticed any differences in the treatment of women on your staff versus men? I think definitely when I was a freshman and the boys’ club had really just gotten back into power. That was when I most felt like I just didn’t know how to pitch a story or who to go to to voice any concerns that I would have had. I think where I felt it the most was when, for a couple years, I kept trying to go to the Editorial Board meetings. I had been to around four meetings and not said a single thing. I didn’t feel like I had enough background on the topics they were talking about. I absolutely did—they didn’t know what they were talking about, they were just loud. I never saw another woman who I trusted really speaking up during those meetings and therefore I didn’t know how to break into that. And I literally just got onto the Editorial Board as EIC, which is ridiculous that I couldn’t get there beforehand, but now, I mean that’s something that we’ve really worked on is how to make those a more welcoming space. I think the Voice has done well in creating a space for women, and I think it’s because of the strong women that have been part of it. It hasn’t necessarily been a wholistic attempt by the community, but it’s been the women who have created a space for the women that I continue to rely on.

KELLY BUSCHE

interview

Kelly Busche is the Editor in Chief of The Minnesota Daily at the University of Minnesota. She grew up in Dassel, Minnesota and is studying journalism and political science. In middle and high school, Busche anchored a weekly broadcast program. During her first two years in college, she took a break from journalism before getting an internship as a communications consultant for a non-profit. But she soon realized that it was her journalism classes that sparked a real interest. Busche applied for the Daily and was initially rejected (her rejection letter is taped above her desk), before being hired as an associate reporter. The next semester, she gained an editor position and rose through the ranks to become EIC. The Daily is the independent student newspaper, which covers university events as well as “student politics in the city and state and how that interacts with campus.” The Daily publishes twice a week and constantly online. In the future, Busche plans on staying in journalism: “I’ve tried out a few other career fields and I’m like, no, journalism is where I need to be. It’s way more exciting and just impactful than any other career I could imagine.”

1) Describe the climate related to gender within your organization. What is your paper's history with female staffers? I’m not the first woman EIC. I believe we’ve had a whole string of them. I think it seems to go boy-girlboy-girl. As for the gender makeup of our editors, we have far more woman editors at this moment than male editors. And that’s replicated in our staff positions as well, like the step below, so that’s going to be our photographers, our reporters, our copy editors. Women far outnumber men in our newsroom. Because of that, it’s very inclusive. Diversity of opinion and voice is so so important and that’s something that we’ve been emphasizing not only in our outreach but also in our newsroom. We hold diversity workshops where we pick a date and then we have an open house in our newsroom where we invite students from all across campus to come in, with an emphasis on multicultural students. We invite them to come into our newsroom and learn how to get hired by the Daily. Because what we heard from a lot of multicultural students was that they wanted to work at the Daily but they just didn’t know how to do it, and they didn’t have connections here. So we just opened our doors and said you’re welcome to come and meet with us, chat with us oneon-one, we did training sessions.

I was able to recruit a lot of staff to help with that diversity workshop and then also turn that inwards and reflect on how we’re doing. Does everyone feel welcome? Does everyone feel inclusive? And having different outreach things really helps us reflect on how we’re doing internally as well.

2) What are some of your favorite things you've done as an EIC? We just published the coolest story I have seen in a long while at The Minnesota Daily, it was on sugar babies. Sugar babies are students who sign up on Seeking Arrangements which is an online kind of dating website. They go on dates and they get paid for it. Sometimes it involves sex or other things, but most of the women we interviewed were just doing it for dates just to get extra money because tuition is so high they just couldn’t afford school. We profiled three sugar babies anonymously and we talked about the extremes that students have to go to. It was an amazing story. We really got the sugar babies’ trust so we had like a really fantastic piece on the lives of them. And we also included the downfalls. This one sugar baby had to file a restraining order against her sugar daddy as they’re called because he was harassing her and stalking her. It was both sides of it and I thought it was one of the most comprehensive stories we’ve done on a really tough topic. 37

JAYLIN PASCHAL interview

1) Describe the climate related to gender within your organization. What is your paper's history with female staffers? The Hilltop has a strong history with women, as we were co-founded by Zora Neale Hurston. Writers like Pulitzer Prize winner Isabel Wilkerson worked in editorial roles at The Hilltop. The EIC immediately before me was a woman, Jazmin Goodwin, who is now a graduate student at the CUNY Newmark J-School. Our paper is currently majority women, with 49 of our 62 staffers being women.

2) Have you experienced sexism in a professional context outside of the paper (for example in a publishing/media-related context)? If so, in your opinion, is there more sexism in the professional world than on college papers? I think I've experienced what most women have: A man getting credit for repeating an idea I had first. A fashion story being pitched and the room of men assuming you want to write it. I do think there is more sexism in the professional world than on college papers. Maybe this is because younger journalists are more open-minded and receptive to women in the workforce. Even with this being said, women are usually not assumed to be in leadership. At a student journalism conference I recently attended, despite

Jaylin Paschal is the Editor in Chief of The Hilltop at Howard University. Paschal has had a deep respect for journalism since she was eight years old. She went to high school in Dayton, Ohio, where she was the EIC of the newspaper. While still in high school, she ran a cultural commentary blog which caught the attention of The Hilltop’s managing editor. Paschal then spent her freshman and sophomore years writing news stories and culture features before being elected EIC. The Hilltop has an audience of about 14,000 readers, mainly African-American undergraduate students. The physical paper is published weekly and online every day. In the future, Paschal plans on working in media: “hopefully using strategy for a brand or publication to amplify messaging and tell important stories.”

having an editor-identifying badge on, my position on the staff was routinely double-checked. While women are expected to be in the room, I still don't think they're expected to command it. We have a long way to go.

3) Is there anything that I haven't covered that you would like to mention? Because we attend an Historically Black College or University (HBCU), the women on my staff and I are double-minorities in spaces traditionally lead by white men. I can't understate the extra level of complexity there is. When Senator Kamala Harris visited Howard University Jan. 21 to discuss her candidacy for United States President, I was asked by reporters from three different media outlets, men and women, “how” I “got in” to the press event. Despite being a closed event held on the campus I attend and cover every day, it was my presence that was questioned. Obviously, I got in the same way the other reporters did—with a press pass.

LIZA ANDERSON

interview

Liza Anderson is the EIC of The Daily Texan at the University of Texas at Austin. She is a history and liberal arts honors junior from Houston, Texas. Anderson was the editor of her high school newspaper and was “especially attracted to the design components of making a newspaper.” After graduating from an arts magnet high school, she believed she “could incorporate better visual elements in order to make the paper more accessible.” Anderson first joined the design department of The Daily Texan and then became an opinion columnist, mainly advocating for “better resources for students who had been sexually assaulted and for better policies surrounding sexual assault.”

As a sophomore, she held editor roles within the opinions department and is now editor in chief. The Daily Texan is in print every school day, and its readers are mainly students as well as alumni and those living in Austin. The Texan’s EIC is elected yearly by the entire student body. Anderson believes “this gives the EIC role an added level of credibility and helps me act as a intermediary between the students and our paper.” This summer, Anderson will be the editorial intern for the Dallas Morning News Editorial board, and after graduation, she plans to attend law school and eventually work on sexual assault policy.

1) Have you experienced any sexism while on the job or noticed any differences in the treatment of women on your staff versus men? I occasionally notice a difference in the way male staffers treat me. In one notable experience, a male columnist who was new to my organization rejected every single edit I made on his piece, which I hadn’t experienced since I became EIC. I had a much harder time as associate editor, where it was fairly common for male writers to dismiss my edits or ignore comments I made. For the most part, sexism isn’t visible. You can feel like something is off, or someone is treating you differently, but most of the time it’s easiest to write it off as a fluke. It takes a lot of experience, and a lot of support, to get to the point where you can identify what exactly is happening when someone acts out of line. Several former female editors warned me about this kind of behavior before I took my job. I never would have felt validated in saying people on staff behaved differently toward me if I didn’t have a group of strong, female predecessors backing me up.

2) Have you experienced sexism in a professional context outside of the paper (for example in a publishing/media-related context)? Perhaps during an internship? If so, in your opinion, is there more sexism in the professional world than on college papers? One summer, I took a job as a teacher for a non-profit program, where I experienced a much higher level of gender-biased treatment than I was accustomed to. I felt I faced increased scrutiny than my male coworkers, and I felt that some of the older professionals policed my appearance and wardrobe much more than I had ever experienced before. I remember getting scolded by the program director for wearing a pencil skirt — a regular business suit skirt from LOFT because she thought I looked too sexual. I haven’t had to deal with this sort of behavior at The Texan, which I attribute to generational differences and the amount of women in power at the paper.

KELSEY KO KO

KELSEY MORGAN OME & MORGAN E M O KELSEY KO Kelsey Ko and Morgan Ome are the Editors in Chief of the Johns Hopkins News-Letter. Ome is from the San Francisco Bay Area and is a double major in Creative Writing and Italian. Ko is from Bethlehem, Pennsylvania and majors in International Studies and East Asian Studies. Neither Ko nor Ome did journalism in high school but were both passionate about storytelling. Ome joined the paper in the second semester of her freshman year as a news writer. She then became layout editor, news and features editor, and then EIC.

interview

Ko did creative writing in high school but wanted to branch out in college and was attracted by the long history and tradition of The News-Letter. She began as a news writer, then news and features editor, managing editor, and finally EIC. The News-Letter is a student-run, independent weekly newspaper, established in 1896. The audience extends to all of the Hopkins campuses and the Baltimore community.

MORGAN OME

KELSEY KO 1) Have you experienced any sexism while on the job or noticed any differences in the treatment of women on your staff versus men?

As co-EICs of a smaller paper, the pair assumes a more hands on role in all of the editorial and financial decisions for the organization. In the future, Ko intends to go to law school and possibly teach. After graduation, she will be teaching secondary English in Baltimore through Teach for America. Ome definitely plans on pursuing journalism as a career, particularly reporting on education. She also hopes to pursue her passion for creative writing.

MORGAN OME M: Our paper is mostly women and I think that does change the dynamics of the paper a lot just because it is majority women. I think that as a female leader you do experience sexism in subtle ways. Even just how you conduct yourself and choose to present yourself during meetings. I have a high-pitched voice so I make sure to pitch it lower because I worry that people won’t take me as seriously.

2) What are the biggest challenges and biggest rewards of being an EIC? Do you think either are influenced by your gender? M: The most rewarding part about being EIC is being able to provide a platform for different people to share their stories. We talk a lot about how representation matters and especially being Asian American—the media has shed a lot of light on how it’s important for there to be this concept called narrative plenitude, where there’s lots of different stories being told, so you could really talk about the diversity of experiences rather than oh there’s only one experience for this one group. So I think being able to direct the paper in ways where we can share different stories and talk to different students on campus or inform the student body about the Baltimore community which we’re part of, but sometimes we feel like people forget. I think those are the most rewarding parts. K: I think as EIC it’s really rewarding to be in that position where you can continue to foster an environment where people can find their friends for life or learn to tell stories that are super compelling and really develop as both leaders and as journalists. I think in a lot of ways it is empowering to be in a position of leadership as an Asian American woman because that isn’t something that you often see. I’m thankful to have The News-Letter as a place where I can kind of test out those leadership skills in a training wheels kind of environment where it is loving and supportive and you’ve got a co-EIC who's got your back, too.

3) What are some of your favorite things you've done as an EIC? M: Last year, when I was a news editor and Kelsey was a managing editor, we thought it would be really interesting to do a love and sex magazine because that’s such a defining part of growing up, like talking about love, talking about sex, what is it like to be in a relationship in college. A lot of people have interesting stories to tell about coming out or hookup culture. K: When we first brought it up last year, one of my biggest fears was that people wouldn’t take it seriously or they would brush it aside because it was a group of women who came up with the idea. I think people tend to think, oh love and sex like that’s not taken seriously, that’s something you would put in like Cosmopolitan magazine. I think it’s been really affirming to see how positive the reception has been and how these conversations around love and sex are important because I don’t think there’s necessarily a space for that in publication as much for students our age at the Hopkins campus.

KELSEY KOKELSEY KO M: Now we’re gonna do a second one so we’re really excited about that.

MORGAN OMEMORGAN OME No one’s ever said anything to criticize me, but it’s just little things like that where you have to make sure that you’re not being too nice, but then you have to make sure that you’re being friendly and accommodating because sometimes that’s what’s expected of me. It’s just a lot of thinking about how you present yourself while also making sure that people take you seriously in your role.

accommodating and nice and it’s hard sometimes for me to be assertive without thinking about that in the back of my head.

With aspirations to work in media myself, being able to speak to women in the same field was enlightening. I learned that the college media landscape is complicated, that in some ways it seems more welcoming for women than the professional world but in others it’s still sexist. Overarchingly, these women were proud of the work they’re doing, and even if they don’t plan on pursuing a career in media, they’re happy they took on the roles they did. Women like these EICs make me excited to see the future of women in media, and to be a part of it myself.

KELSEY KOKELSEY KO K: It’s also thinking about balancing the difference between being assertive and also being someone who is nice to people. I feel like something that’s often expected of women is to be

M: Something Kelsey and I talk about is if maybe a male colleague or male EIC would also think about these things as well, would they feel comfortable just being assertive and saying this is what I think and we’re gonna do it, even if people don’t necessarily agree or like you. I feel like a lot of conversations about women leaders are about is she likeable, is she relatable. But I do wonder if a male counterpart would also be as concerned with those things.

MORGAN OMEMORGAN OME 40

Hiring an Intern When You’re the Average Age of an Intern by Words a in Christ Paul

was born a natural entrepreneur with a kind, caring heart. I grew up in the small town of Georgetown, Canada, where I was constantly surrounded by entrepreneurs. My dad is an entrepreneur, and my mother has had many of her own businesses as well. I grew up watching my parents and other extended family members work from home, spending 24/7 on the clock – because that is what entrepreneurs do. I even used to write “invoices” from a young age on coloured construction paper, copying my mother while she did the bookkeeping. I truly did not understand how someone could work for anyone but themselves because that was all I saw growing up.

Naturally, when I reached the age of 20, I was interested in learning how to start my own business that would allow me to work for myself while simultaneously changing the world. In December 2017, Ethereal & Co. was born. Ethereal means, “Extremely delicate and light in a way that seems too perfect for this world.” You can pull the words, “the real her”, from Ethereal, which is what I aim for my company to represent. Ethereal & Co. hopes to empower women to embrace “the real her” and to understand they are perfect the way they were made. ETHEREAL ETHEREAL ETHEREAL Fast forward a year and a half later, and Ethereal has blown up in more ways than I could have ever dreamed. As CEO, I currently manage over 85 women, which includes brand ambassadors, contributors, models, sub-contractors, and finally, INTERNS. Since I became a CEO at such a young age, I am very conscious of the way I treat my team members. After all – only a year and a half ago, I was working for a large company myself and experienced many different types of bosses between the ages of 16-20 years old. I feel like I was lucky to have great relationships and friendships with the bosses that I had while I was working for other people. However, I did notice the way they treated other young employees, and it wasn’t always all rainbows and butterflies. Sometimes, my bosses would take advantage of my co-worker's young age and their lack of experience in a workplace to do things like “take away their break” or “accidentally” mess up their paycheck. Both of which are very wrong, illegal, or just outright cruel.

Ageism exists and it is rampant especially in the workplace. Many young people discriminate against older people. I’ve seen friends talk about the mindset of their older co-workers, which is more narrow-minded towards political and social issues that us young people are. On the flip side, older people discriminate young people as well. They assume that because we lack the experience that we simply aren’t good enough. As a young CEO, I am constantly getting comments about my age. Older people tend to be blown away with the fact that I balance being a student, a CEO, and a part-time nanny. It is truly sad to think about, but what I remind myself is that I can be a change to the way this works and the way people have automatic thoughts about their opposite age group. It takes ONE GOOD BOSS to set standards for all of the other bosses out there. I started my intern hiring process by

making listings on job posting sites, then proceeded to receive applications, and then began to interview applicants. Every single person I interviewed was at least one year older than I was (I was 21 at the time.) It truly was eye-opening being the interviewer versus the interviewee, because I was able to see the anxiety behind the applicant in ways I’d never noticed before. I could tell right off the bat, within the first few minutes, whether the person was a good fit for my team. I could tell a lot based on the way they held their presence and how enthusiastic they were about my brands’ message. Noticing if the interviewee, or was very formal and monotone was also a huge factor for me when hiring. Hiring women who were older than me was a challenge. I felt as though I had to lower my expectations for interns because I truly did not feel qualified to hire them. Heck, I don’t even have my degree yet, and

some of the women who applied had multiple Master’s degrees! It took quite a bit of confidence to tell myself, “I deserve a qualified intern” because to North American culture, 21 is not even a qualified or fully-developed human being yet. I truly believe that my upbringing helped me with this situation. Being the youngest cousin on both sides of my parents’ families, I was surrounded by adults and forced to learn how to exist with people older than me. It helped me to develop a sense of importance, regardless of my age. It helped me to have a voice because if I never spoke up, I wouldn’t be heard. I channeled this confidence when I hiring interns to be able to declare what I wanted and needed in an intern, regardless of my age in relation to them. I was able to stand my ground with high expectations. After I secured a team of interns, I truly struggled to balance the two voices

in my head that told me, “treat them like a friend” and “act like their boss”. The line was incredibly confusing, as they were very kind, easygoing women who I wanted to be friends with. I didn’t want to offend them in any way by being “the boss”. I later realized that I needed to stand up for them - they need instruction, and to be taught how to function within a start-up company (which is why they had applied for experience in the first place). If I treated them as friends, I would have been ripping them off from slearning and growing as a professional. Don’t be afraid of being their boss it’s your duty as a business owner. To end this train of thought, I’ve collected tips throughout the process for other young women who could use some advice for interviews.

.........Five Tips for Women InterviEWERS....................................................................................................

Post on many different platforms.

Hire people who you could be friends with.

Don’t be afraid to be “the boss”.

Don’t forget that you need them, and remind them of this.

I posted job listings on more than one platform so that I could reach more people. The more applicants you get, the more likely you are to find the right fit for your company.

Getting along with the people you work with is key. It helps you to get jobs done efficiently, and stress-free. Nobody like workplace tension, so be sure to hire someone who has similar views and you do for your company, someone who cares about the position, and someone who brings a different perspective in a kind way.

Many young CEO’s fear the term “boss”. In the end, being a boss is your title with your business, and you deserve it, because you built it from the ground up! Be sure to hold that title with honour, and don’t be afraid to give direction the way a boss does.

If you didn’t need them, you wouldn’t have hired them. Many interviewees get intimidated at the power balance in interviews and feel small compared to you. Be kind, and don’t forget to remind them why you need them in the first place. Respect that you need their help, and know that it doesn’t make you worse at your job, it just makes you more available for tasks that you have to do that others can’t.

It’s good to have a structure for an interview, but it’s better to also have a genuine conversation. Asking a set list of questions is awesome, but it’s also important to get a natural sense of the interviewee by creating a lassiez-faire atmosphere. You want to get to know the REAL candidate, not the “on paper” candidate – that was what the resume was for. Don’t feel afraid to let loose and show them who you are as well, because they’re more likely to open up to you if you open up first! 45

..........Five Tips for Women Interviewees........................

Don’t apply if you don’t have the experience they need. You may think that it’s good to apply under experienced JUST in case they choose to set up an interview. However, this is something that really frustrates interviewers. There’s always a reason they have desired experience for a job, and if they hire you and find out later that you’re under experienced, this can be extremely frustrating. Alongside this, don’t mass apply to jobs without knowing what you’re applying for. The number of applicants who had zero experience relevant to my company was shocking, and it shows how careless the person is when their resume doesn’t even match the job.

Tailor your resume. Instead of using the same resume and attaching it to a bunch of different job postings, tailor it for each job in specific. Share the experiences that will matter for the job that is listed, and why this experience can help you with the job you’re applying for. Use your resume as a tool to persuade the interviewer into hiring you. This shows that you truly understand what is required of the job you applied for and that you care about doing a good job.

Listen to the interviewer actively. Be sure to listen to what the interviewer is saying to you. Don’t interrupt what they’re saying, respond to what they say thoughtfully, and be curious about what they’re talking about. Being an active listener shows the interviewer that you care about what they have to say, which makes them see good team member potential.

Professionalism matters Dressing well to the interview and good personal hygiene says a lot about you as a person. Make sure you don’t slouch and show competence to what is being said by the interviewers. Showing up on time for the interview is also key – it’s better to be early than to be late. Cancelling last minute also shows the interviewer how unimportant the job was to you, no matter what the reason for cancelling is. Be sure to give fair warning if you even think you may have to reschedule or cancel.

Don’t be afraid to initiate a conversation This may be something as simple as telling them in detail why you’re a good candidate, or it could be a comment on how great you think the company is. It’s nice for the interviewer to have a break within the interview – and it shows your initiative!

Overall, interviews can be overwhelming and confusing. Especially when you’re young. But I think it’s really important to be authentic, honest, and confident when I approach the hiring process. At the end of the day, I’m passionate about my brand, and building a team that supports what I believe in. When you’re a CEO, there’s no “rule book” for your company – you’re the one creating it. So be confident, take a deep breath, and go into the interview process knowing the type of person you’re looking for. These tips have been helpful for me in hiring interns, but if you need to modify them to suit your goals and your brand, go for it! You know your business best.

So - get out there, boss babe! 46

ED UCATION & SCHOOL

So, you want to study

ties? 50

t i n a m u h

“Do you have, like “Huh, have , g in k a fun m a plan for no money.” wh at to “Why not d business o with or engine ering?” that?” The above three quotes are a solid summation of 80% of the responses I get when I tell someone I am majoring in art history. In general, I am confident in my course of study. After spending my childhood twirling around Degas statues at the Met, the subject feels like home. I love that it makes me feel like no matter how much reading , researching, and learning I do, I am only ever just scratching the surface (er, canvas?). In art history, there is always something more to know and talk about. Unfortunately, my enthusiasm for art history isn’t shared by many of those around me. From strangers to family members, hardly anyone tries to hide their feelings about my course of study. I’ve had people literally scoff at me, or else roll their eyes. After about a year, you would think I’d get used to this, but it feels like a punch in the gut every single time. I am currently in the second semester of my sophomore year, which means I am almost halfway through my college education. At this point, my academics —a.k.a. a huge part of my life—are one of my least favorite things to talk about. Call me crazy (you wouldn’t be the first) but being told repeatedly that my future is a dead end got really, really old.

words by OLIVIA LAND

I have no idea what I want to do after graduation, and I am fine with that. I am studying art history because I love it, and because I believe in the value of what I am being taught. Even on my own campus, however, I am constantly made to feel that my studies are not as significant as those of my peers.

So, you want to study Over the past few years, it’s been pretty impossible to ignore the push to empower women in STEM and business fields. From girls’ computer science and space camps to specialized university programs, we’re inching closer to closing the gap between the number of men and women working in medicine, engineering, programming, and more.

certain income. We would be better served as both individuals and a society if we valued the skills we gleaned from our respective paths. Attention to detail, interpersonal communication, strong? writing--these are just a handful of skills that are honed by studying humanities that are indispensable in dozens of fields.

I am 100% behind the ethos of these initiatives; many of my close friends are in STEM, and I am in awe of their work every day. With that said, I am continually disappointed to find that the language and attitude promoted by many of these programs are perpetuating negative stereotypes about women’s education.

It’s ironic but unfortunately true that the impetus behind society’s push towards women in STEM and business is deeply entrenched in patriarchy. When you think about STEM and business, the first words that come to mind are probably something like “logic,” “precision,” and “serious,” and other traits historically reserved for men. The humanities on the other hand, are frequently tied to descriptors like “emotion,” “beauty,” and “genteel.” If this was the 1960s, you might imagine STEM/business as the chain-smoking C-suite honcho and the humanities student is the tittering secretary. But it’s not 1962 anymore, and it’s about time we upgraded our expectations.

It’s true that, in the brief period of history during which women have had access to higher education, they have generally been relegated to studies in literature, art, and languages—a.k.a. “soft” subjects that were appropriate for future wives and mothers. I am disappointed that rather than debunking this patriarchal myth, the emphasis on women in STEM has resulted in diminution of the humanities. On my own campus, the conversation around opportunities in subjects other than biology, engineering, and business have all but gone away completely. If you pay attention, it sounds like humanities is the JV squad and STEM and business are varsity.

Given the chaos taking place in our world- from “fake news” to the continued prevalence of hate speech- it is imperative that we create environments that foster confident and creative young women. If anything, the political climate we live in today is a reminder of how visual art, literature, theater, and other manifestations of the humanities are capable of creating change (Hamilton, anyone?). Dividing our studies into “worthy” and “unworthy” based on subject matter, future income, or other factors only keeps us stagnant. We want young women to think that the sky's the limit, so why are we keeping their pursuits earthbound?

ties? Aside from the idea that humanities subjects are less rigorous, there is also the argument that careers in business and STEM offer more stability and earning potential. I think we all deserve to be liberated from the idea that our careers are only worthy if they yield a

To the young woman who wants to study the humanities: You do you. This time of your life will test you in so many ways—if you let others’ opinions dictate your experience, you will not grow and shift the way you are meant to. It’s naïve to think that life is all about happiness, but you owe yourself the opportunity to explore what interests you. It’s a not a life-or-death choice, but a quality of life choice. So, the next time your uncle makes a joke about your pending unemployment, do your best to shrug and say, “You know what, you might be right. But I could make a killing on Jeopardy.”

*A caveat, though, in case trivia isn’t your thing. Here’s a quick list of some other potential comebacks, which are also real-life careers you could find yourself pursuing one day: Editor/Publisher Archaeologist Museum curator Teacher Screenwriter Entrepreneur Period drama history consultant Designer Investigative journalist Costume designer Non-profit fundraising ...and a whole lot more.

I heard so many things growing up, starting in pre-school. I believed

I remember when I was in kindergarten, my friends and I would bring all of our dolls and J-14

magazines with all the latest gossip on Zac Efron and the queens of Disney Channel. It was like a

“boys are faster and stronger than girls”, or

slumber party every afternoon. I also remember how the boys would tease us because we undressed

the dolls in front of them when changing their clothes. I suppose that made them uncomfortable.

“only girls can like pink and purple”, or

There was this boy, who always sat with a small group of girls, that would also undress the

“girls are smarter than boys”. Even though none of these are accurate statements, I remember feeling sad when I lost

dolls. Not because he was being a little pervert (that’s what my six-year-old self-thought at one

point) but because he was legitimately playing with dolls. Every day he played with dolls, either alone or with a girl or two. This boy, I remember so randomly, yet so distinctively, was bullied by the boys and girls who saw this.

a race to a boy on the playground, thinking it was because I was weak because I was a girl.

Then I remember hating that part about being a girl.

Un fo rt un atel y

Ch ild ho od y M of rt Pa as W ng pi ty eo er St r G en de Ekater ina Mu niz wo rds by

I was only six, so I didn’t understand why they were laughing and making comments on how

“weird” he was, but I do remember thinking he was weird and that boys who played

with dolls were not normal and “weird”.

Thanks to years of growing and learning, my mentality changed quickly.

I now try to avoid being influenced by gender norms and gender stereotypes. It took time to learn and understand, but that’s all it took– openness to understanding. I realized we all made fun of that poor boy who played with dolls because we’ve been told - those 6 or more little years of our lives -

that pink was a girl’s color and only boy s can like “boy sports”.

At least, that’s what I rememb er being taught.

I feel like those same preschoolers are the ones today breaking gender stereotypes. That

proves our generation has come a long way, but we need to continue, so we can reach the minds of current preschoolers.

I want the next generation of six-year-olds to think neu-

trally when it comes to genders. Little boys playing with dolls, that needs to be normalized. Little girls liking “boy sports,” that needs to be normalized, and the term “boy sports” is canceled.

Sorry, sweetie. Same goes for “hit/cry like a girl,” but that was partially and successfully called out for after that Always Ul-

tra-Thin commercial. The point is I don’t want future children to

believe these stereotypes like I did and I’m sure many others did as well. It limited my potential talents and abilities and took away

opportunities I could’ve taken. I wish and hope that same little boy who played with dolls is reading this. If you are, I want to apologize on behalf of the 2006 afterschool kids for our ignorance.

ma scu lin e. Me n ca n be fem ini ne . Wo me n ca n be

We are al l pe op le. 55

Policy

My name is Brooke López and I am the Founder & Executive Director of the Lone Star Parity Project, a nonpartisan publication dedicated to sharing the stories and research of women in Texas politics with the goal of seeking parity. I was inspired to co-found this non-profit after running for municipal office in Texas at the age of 18. I grew up in the small town of Wylie, Texas – a conservative community just northeast of Dallas. To paint this picture – when I first moved to Wylie, I joined a population of only 9,000 people. Up until my sophomore year in high school, our town had only seen one notorious murder throughout its 150+ years of existence. In 2012, we faced our second murder – but this one? This death hit close to home. Literally.

Running for Office at

Age 18

words by BROOKE LÓPEZ

For the entirety of my childhood, I dreamt of being a dentist. If you don’t know me personally, you would think that being a dentist would “fit me” well: I spent a majority of my time, when I wasn’t in class, in some form of dental office, whether I was having a check-up for my braces or being fit for yet another retainer. However, it is rare to actually become what you want to be at age six; luckily, I learned early on, during my time in high school, that my body has an impediment to blood (you know… one of those people who pass out when they see it). When you can’t see blood, you surely can’t become a dentist; even a simple flossing would leave me passed out over my patients. You would think a realization that the career you’ve had your eyes set on for almost a decade would make anyone feel lost and confused but, oddly, I had a gut feeling that I faced a greater calling. I never thought I would become a public figure in politics. Major aspirational change, right? But within a year of my realization, I would become the unintentional face of millennial political power in my hometown. 60

On a cold morning in March 2012, I awoke to the news that my good friend, Nahum Martinez, had been shot to death by two of our classmates only a block from my home. I was mortified yet full of anger: how could this happen to someone so kind and thoughtful? Throughout the coming months, I had to begin wrapping my mind around death and loss. By the finality of the murder trial, both murderers were charged as juveniles and received sentences that would release them from prison by the age of 21. As you could imagine, I felt justice hadn’t been served to myself, Nahum, the Martinez Family, and the rest of my community. In pursuit of justice, I began working with local legislators to propose gun control bills that would prevent this from happening to another person in the State of Texas. Quickly, I was exposed to the partisan uphill battle that is politics: it was difficult to plead my case to legislators who didn’t support gun control measures. I tried to garner the support of my friends and neighbors by visiting local meetings, presenting this bill door-to-door, and talking with anyone who would listen to me long enough to hear my story. Unintentionally, I had thrown myself into the political scene of North Texas. Word began to spread that I was a force to be reckoned with. Different organizations and news outlets started to place me on a platform large enough to share my story. Soon, I had gained the attention of my hometown and neighboring cities; people started to listen. Folks started to tell me that they hoped to see my name on their ballots one day. Little did they know, I would file to run for office as soon as technically possible. I decided to run for Wylie City Council at age 18. In short, my journey into the world of campaigning was difficult. I faced criticism from various directions: I was told that I was inexperienced and that I needed to “wait my turn”. The worst criticism came from places of discrimination. During a “meet-and-greet” event, I was told that my skin was “too brown” to represent this community and that my citizenship needed to be verified because I am Hispanic. Soon followed comments about being a young woman – I was asked whether my hormones would affect my decision making. I was shown a side of my community that I had never seen. And while my campaign for city council was not victorious, the worst loss of all was my loss of self-esteem following the election.

After spending some time for self-reflection, I reoriented my goals to help other young minority women, like myself, who aspire for political office, into positions of power. I was on a mission to regain my self-esteem by creating an opportunity for other young women to become politically engaged. In response, I co-founded the Lone Star Parity Project to begin sharing the untold stories of women and femmes in Texas politics. Through a combination of storytelling and research, we are painting the curated pictures of what political success looks like for women in each corner of Texas; a campaign for office in Dallas will look drastically different from a campaign for office in El Paso.

To learn more about the Lone Star Parity Project, visit: lonestarparityproject.org

To connect with me, visit: www.brookelopez.net

If my future self would have told “1st grader Brooke” that she would be a public figure in Texas politics, little Brooke would’ve told my future self that she had spelled dentist wrong. Dreams can change through a matter of circumstance. I’ve been asked many times about my plans to run for office again – I simply say that I have no clue about what is to come but I know that it will be based in social justice and activism. 61

Alexandria Ocasio Cortez inspires such vitriol from conservatives (a years-old video of her joyfully dancing on a rooftop apparently classifies her as a “clueless nitwit”) and such enthusiasm from liberals (the same video prompted appreciative nods from the likes of Shaun King, Molly Ringwald, and Phoenix) that it would require active avoidance of the news to remain unaware of her. If, however, you didn’t recognize Alexandria Ocasio Cortez as you watched her walk out to a cheering crowd on The Late Show this past July, you would have little reason to peg her as a U.S. Representative. Cortez enters, not with the buttoned-up demeanor of a professional used to maintaining an image in front of a crowd, but like a Stephen Colbert fan who can’t believe she’s been invited onstage. Wide-eyed and open-mouthed, she rushes into Colbert’s arms and then turns to wave vigorously at the crowd before sitting down at his desk, though she meets her host’s eyes for mere moments before her gaze flits disbelievingly back to the crowd.

“Hi, wow!”

she exclaims with an unbridled energy that seems both youthful and genuine--two adjectives an average American would be unlikely to employ if asked to describe “politician.” Those two adjectives are, however, at the root of Democratic socialist Cortez’s appeal; at a time in which disillusionment with the political system transcends party lines, serving as an antithesis to the traditional is intelligent branding. It’s also effective. As a visibly impressed Colbert explains, a mere three weeks before the primary election, Cortez polled

What Comedy Tells Us About Cortez

words by Bessie Rubinstein

36 points lower than incumbent congressman Joe Crowley--who she ended up unseating in what the Times called “the most significant loss for a Democratic incumbent in more than a decade.” Cortez’s unprecedented success (add “youngest woman to ever serve in Congress” to the list), like her profession, belies her demeanor on The Late Show. She fills gaps in her sentences with “like,”s punctuates them with “literally”s, but these speech habits do not imply lack of polish or self-awareness like some of the comments on Colbert’s Youtube channel suggest. Cortez simply isn’t interested in refinement; as epitomized by her November 20th tweet “I am who I work for,” she’s aligning herself with those people (mostly young, mostly liberal) who feel cheated by and jaded with our democracy, those who don’t see themselves or their interests reflected in smooth talking candidates. Cortez’s relatability is evident in her appearance on Colbert, from the way she walks out onto the stage (just as excited and starstruck as any of us would be) to the way she refers to herself at the end of the interview: “I don’t think Trump knows how to handle a girl from the Bronx,” she exclaims to a cheering crowd. Not a “politician” from the Bronx. Just a “girl.” Cortez isn’t the first politician to try to provide an accessible, relatable figure to win over millennial voters, who have surpassed baby boomers as the largest generation--Hillary Clinton whipping and nae nae-ing on The Ellen Show in 2015 comes to mind. But young voters don’t want antics. Whether this reaction was rooted in misogyny or not, millennials mocked Clinton’s performance on The Ellen Show, likening it to a robot masquerading as human.

Cortez, however, has been successful in actually impassioning America’s youth. Halfway through her interview, she tells Colbert about two young supporters she encountered on election night--“19 year olds voting in an off-year midterm primary election,” she impresses on him, her pitch rising. These young boys weren’t responding to an appearance of accessibility--Cortez’s authenticity isn’t manufactured. She is a 29 year old woman who spent her post-grad years bartending and waitressing to help her mother keep their home in the wake of her father’s death. That intrinsic knowledge of what it means to be a struggling young person cannot be fabricated, and doesn’t need to be--Cortez’s campaign spent $194,000 compared to Crowley’s $3.4 million. This discrepancy in spending should not be confused with a discrepancy in effort; Cortez’s campaign shoes, riddled with holes she earned knocking on door after door in the Bronx, are now on display at the Cornell Costume Collection exhibit as a physical example of her hard work. Try as Republicans might to brush off Cortez’s success, attributing it to demo graphics, politicians should pay attention. She’s figured out how to achieve the seem ingly-impossible task of inspiring voters: understanding that pandering to young people is dehumanizing and underestimates their intelligence. Cortez doesn’t rely on branding, but holds herself to relentless hard work and authen ticity, refusing to cloak herself with a cultivated public image--which, as it turns out, results in a singularly positive public image.

Our Votes Count It seems like there is so much going wrong in politics now, and it is easy to feel lost. But we must go out and vote. Our voices must be heard

The universe seems out of place, like a storm swept in and knocked over a vase.

Our votes are loud and they are clear, our votes determine what we want for the forthcoming years.

We see the wrong side in the lead, the silencing of the oppressed and underrepresented.

The activists who fought for votes for all, look down and encourage us to cast our ballots this fall.

Hopelessness falls over a nation, our voices feel lost and pushed behind a curtain. Yet we have something that they cannot take away.

Words by Alexandria DeVlaeminick.

We must look to those following the right, the people running for office who still have a clear sight. We must use our power and vote in this election year.

Y C A C O V D A & 66

The Shy Activist

"I convinced myself that my voice had no real value in society"

words by HEIDI PEREZ

When I was younger, I didn’t really see myself as an activist. Sidelines proved to be my comfort and became my safety blanket in times of distress. My life has been shaped by the reclusiveness my instincts chose to follow, and I chose to run from my own problems as a result. As much as I tried not to, I constantly felt compelled to isolate myself from reality every single time. Growing up, I never thought of it as anything. It’s just what I did. I thought this predisposition was natural; I didn’t think people could actually face their issues head-on instead of avoiding them out of fear. I stayed quiet in class, never raised my hand, and only talked when called upon. I recall vague elementary school memories where I chose to keep my eyes open but sealed my lips shut. “Heidi,” my teacher called out with a menacing stare, “you haven’t spoken all day, so you’re going to read a chapter of “The Giver for the class.” In that moment, my heart raced alongside the nerves raging in my body, and my face began to flush from the unwanted attention I received. I struggled to even think of a response. “Oh...Ok,” I responded and took deep pauses to imprint the menacing stares of my classmates in my mind. As I began reading for the class, the words fumbled at the tip of my tongue and struggled to leave my mouth: 68

“Two children- one male, one female…”, I paused between each sentence to catch my own breath, “...to each family unit.” I recognized the never-ending panic from other situations, and like a host to parasitic flesh, surrendered to my own heightened nerves. After a while, I learned to harmonize with it. Breathe in, Breathe out. Breathe In. Breathe out. I convinced myself that my voice had no real value in society, and kept quiet as a result. A

FEW

PA S S I O N L E S S

YEARS

L AT E R

About five years later, I would enter my final year of high school with the understanding that extraversion was a hot commodity. I admired the girls that spoke their minds freely. I wondered how they could gracefully communicate with such ease, and spew confidence as if they’d been rooted to the ground by their own gravity. For me, this was simply a foreign concept. But in the back of my mind, there was a nagging voice that wanted to save the world. Every time I turned on the news, I would hear about all of the negative things happening in society, and resorted to simply accepting the madness instead of actively trying to resolve it.

Clearing my own conscious in this manner would tear my soul in a never-ending cycle of guilt. I thought to myselfam I made of feathers? I was outraged by some of the things happening in my community (see: Trump’s election, the Muslim Ban, and the proposed defunding of Planned Parenthood). These were the debilitating problems in society that angered me, and I felt an urge to make a change, but the question was- how do I get the words out?

THE

S H O C K . My eyes widened in disbelief; my body trembled at the inevitable. The reassuring “that would never happen” thought snuck into the outskirts of my own reality, waiting to pounce at the most unexpected time.

R E T R E A T . This usually happened when the cocoon I built became tempting enough to crawl back into. To relieve myself from the fear, I hid away from any real responsibility I held as a citizen. It simply wasn’t my place. I had taken on the role of the scared, hopeful citizen. I made myself believe that the world didn’t need my voice in order to empty myself of any semblance of guilt. All the while, I couldn’t help but shake the urge to do more. 70

AWAY

I wrote an opinion piece about why the National Rifle Association (NRA) should not be allowed to bribe politicians to manipulate legislation. The article occupied a tiny spot of the newsletter, and yet, I couldn’t help but feel immensely proud of myself for getting my thoughts into someone else’s mind. I just wanted others to know that I cared, and was paying attention to the events unfolding as an informed activist. Getting the opportunity to actively write about what happened made me realize that I could be a shy activist. The mere thought of speaking out with a megaphone or rallying students together to protest would’ve scared me shitless, but I learned to embrace my strengths. Remember, there is a place for everyone. Find yours.

A N G E R . I dreamt of the million ways I could fight. Paced around my room with the determination to demand change. In some wild fantasy, I could tell off President Trump and run the country. That fire that ravaged on in my belly took me places, but most of those episodes would stay inside my own brain. What can I do? How can I fight? I asked myself demanding my own answer, but it would never come.

F E A R . It was the dreaded moment I had to realize that I was my own anchor. The seemingly tiny voice in the back of my own mind began to multiply, blurring the values and morals rooted deep within my soul. My body stood paralyzed in a world of constant movement, and I could feel the loud steps of my peers' progress overshadow my own voice.

WITHERS

Weeks later, I was able to find my voice in the chaos. My high school newspaper, The Phoenix Flyer, began releasing advertisements for any student to publish their work in an issue dedicated to the Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School shooting in hopes of showing how students had been impacted by this devastating event. I seized this as my opportunity to join the fight for justice. Expressing my thoughts with pen and paper could get my point across miles farther than my voice ever could.

Whenever I felt these emotions, they all followed a similar rhythm, almost like the five stages of grief:

C O N F U S I O N . I knew I needed to do something, but what? The high my own internal activism would take me on came crashing down, and suddenly I was faced with reality. I asked myself what I could do, but every answer would be left to rot in the depths of my shy, anxious mind. It seemed like everyone knew what to do except for me.

COCOON

D I S A S T E R

S T R I K E S

On February 15th, 2018, the aftermath of a brutal event weighed heavy on the minds of the students around me. About twenty-four hours earlier at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School, innocent students fell prey to loose gun regulations and began to demand the change they rightfully deserved. Seventeen students had been killed by a careless individual and most of the victims hadn’t even reached that age yet.

HOW TO CALL YOUR LOCAL R E P R E S E N T A T I V E *in a cool way* Once I realized my potential, I saw the vast number of ways I could be an activist. My call to action came a few months ago when my best friend convinced me to call my local representative about gun control. “It’s painless,” she insisted. “Sometimes, you just have to rip off the band-aid. Do it.” Her brutally honest words motivated me, yet I couldn’t help but think the conversation would go something like this:

In the midst of chaos, I sensed the unnerving silence as students, teachers, and parents grasped at the daunting idea that this could happen so close to our home. Nationally, students began to question the safety of their own schools. My classmates lead a revolution in the blink of an eye. They used their voices the second they got the chance and marched to the beat of their own hearts. I could feel their passionate, angry blood boiling at the same temperature as mine, and resonated with their pleas. It made me wonder-

My Local Representative: Hello, who is this?

how can I fight alongside them?

Me: It’s the right thing to do. Umm...do it.

Me: H–Hi. My name is Heidi Perez...and...you need to enforce gun control, please. Pause My Local Representative: Do you want to elaborate on that?

I could barely make an appointment with my own doctor, let alone convince a politician to support gun control regulation. This would go on for hours, and couldn’t help but admire my own outrageous sense of creativity, thinking of every possible worst case scenario. At some point, I just went for it and picked up my phone. Worst case scenario? You hang up like it never happened. As I started dialing the number I found online, I replayed the opening line I had practiced earlier in my head. Hello, my name is Heidi Perez and I’m a local citizen. Wait, no. Hello, my name is Heidi Perez and I’m a resident of Miami Dade County Public Schools. I replayed every word in my head, yet, once I got an answer, my mind went blank. On my first attempt, my only response was from a receptionist informing me that my local representative was unavailable. However, she was able to get back to me quickly, and I found that the conversation went a lot smoother than I imagined. Of course, I stuttered (quite a few times, actually). My worst fear came alive in those brief moments, but I was able to power through it by making sure I got my point across. Most of the details are blurry from the heightened nerves and exhilaration, but the conversation ended up going something like this: Representative: Hello Heidi, so sorry I couldn’t get to your call until now. I hear you’re a local constituent that was interested in speaking with me. How could I help you? Me: Um… Hello *Local Representative*, I just wanted to catch you for a second to discuss your policies on gun control. I understand this is a big topic that has unfolded over the last month, and I just wanted to know what you think of it and things you’re doing throughout your community to solve this issue. Representative: Well, first and foremost, I’m someone who is against loose gun regulations and believe that students should feel safe in their schools. It may be an amendment to own guns, but it’s a human right to feel safe! I’ve been working actively in my own rights to work on this problem, however, even my hands are tied to an extent. Many public officials are banned from discussing gun control in the state of Florida, and it could result in my termination. So, there’s only so much I can do. Me: I understand why that would be an issue, however, I urge you that there is so much we could be doing to stop this at the source. Many of these amendments are federal caliber, but on a local scale, we still have tons of power.

The TheRevolution Revolution of of Period Period Activism Activism

words by Alexandria DeVlaeinck

This is just a small excerpt from my conversation with my local representative, but it made me feel powerful. Once you set yourself in a positive mindset, only good things can flow from that. I urge each and every one of you to call your representatives, because even though it may seem daunting, it’s a direct way to use our power as constituents for good. This whole experience made me realize the countless ways I could be an activist. Never feel that you don’t fit the mold of an “activist” because of who you are. Find what makes you feel strong, alive, even powerful, and use that as your weapon. To become an activist, I didn’t need to turn into someone I didn’t recognize, I simply embraced the strengths I already had.

Anyone can join the fight in their own special way, and this adds onto the long chain of activists hoping to create real change in society. So whether it’s writing for the local paper, starting a protest, or calling your representative, your activism matters as much as anyone else’s. Embrace the shy activist that many of us are, and use it to change the world.

“Boys, come follow me into my homeroom. Girls, stay here.” I was in fifth grade Math class when another teacher came into the room and said these words. Oh no, I thought. It was time for that talk. A health specialist rolled in an old TV on a stand and began playing a video all about periods, body changes, and other puberty related issues. I remember feeling uncomfortable knowing that all of this was about to happen to me in the next couple of years. Flash forward to about a year later, when a classmate sitting next to me sat down looking anxious. She looked at me and whispered, “Have you gotten your period yet?” I still recall the expression on her face when I said no; she seemed embarrassed and ashamed. I got my period during school in eighth grade. I was in such shock about it that I didn't even call to come home and just went to the bathroom stuffing toilet paper in my underwear instead. My mom picked me up from school that day after an after-school activity and I said to her, almost in tears,

While I felt embarrassed by this normal process, I was lucky. My mom came home and showed me how to use sanitary napkins (or pads) and helped me get through my first period. Throughout middle school, she also taught me about body changes I would start seeing such as underarm hair and weight gain. Even though these discussions made me uneasy at the time, I am fortunate that I had someone in my life who I could go talk to without them making it awkward. However, that is not the case for everyone. Across the globe, many young women and non-binary individuals face the consequences of taboos surrounding periods.

“Hey mom, I got my period.” 72

Normalizing Menstrual Blood During the 2015 London Marathon, drummer and activist Kiran Gandhi started her monthly cycle the morning of the race, making her even more nervous knowing that she would have to give up comfort in order to fit society’s standards. This brought her to the decision to “free bleed” during the race in order to highlight the women in the world who do not have access to tampons or pads and are forced to pretend that periods do not exist in order to please patriarchal standards. In one of her blog posts, Gandhi writes,

how-to-guide dispelling common myths and providing helpful information about menstruation. When young people who may not experience periods in the future are still brought into the conversation, menstruation becomes even more normalized and these individuals can become supportive allies to their peers.

Even social media platforms still prohibit showcasing something so natural and common as period blood on their sites. On Instagram, photographer Rupi Kaur shared an image from her series, period. that featured a woman in bed with blood on her sweatpants. The image was removed by Instagram twice, claiming that it violated guidelines. While a step back, this chain of events proved to be everything Kaur wanted to highlight about society’s view that period blood is a dirty and unsacred thing.

“We ran for women who can’t show their periods in public and for women who can’t complete in athletic events.” Challenges to the notion of what is considered appropriate when you are on your period make everlasting impacts by normalizing periods in the public ways. In all parts of the world, we are told that menstrual blood is something gross and private. This causes girls to feel ashamed or impure going out of private spheres when they are on their cycle. In Ethiopia, a rise in Girls’ Clubs have allowed young women to learn about their periods in a safe place and receive counseling. Even more groundbreaking, boys and those who do not experience periods are encouraged to come to and learn about the topic too. Likewise, in Indonesia, UNICEF has developed a comic book aimed for all genders about periods. On one side of the book, there is a 74

Periods are often a very taboo topic to speak of in many cultures. Period shame is an issue many face where they feel that they are unclean and cannot partake in certain activities. With these myths still around, many people face the issue of accessibility to period products.

Hygiene Products for All

Access to menstrual products is easy to take for granted. I have the privilege of being able to go out and buy my own tampons or pads, but this unfortunately is not the norm for many.

Portland native and now Harvard student, Nadya Okamoto, experienced the hardships of lacking access to to menstrual hygiene while her family experienced homelessness during her first two years of high school. These experiences, however, fueled Okamoto to start PERIOD, a non-profit group with the aim of providing feminine hygiene products to the homeless as well as education about periods. The organization also advocates for no tax on tampons and pads. Similarly, FREE PERIODS, founded by Amika George, demands that period products be made freely available in schools and colleges across the United Kingdom. According to reports, children were missing school because they could not afford tampons or pads, and 1 out of 10 children in all of the U.K. could not afford products. In 2017, the organization got 2,000 people to protest the inequality in menstruation health, calling for their government to take immediate action. The reality of girls missing school due to their periods is a phenomenon in all parts of the world. A report from Smart Development Works found that around 3.75 million girls in Uganda live without proper menstrual health products, causing many to skip school during these days and opt out playing sports. Public Health Ambassadors Uganda have founded a project Ensonga that teaches adolescents about periods and menstrual sanitation, as well as has training clubs on how to use reusable sanitary pads. While all of these organizations are playing an important role in making accessibility a reality, the numbers still go to

show how damaging it is when period products are not affordable. While those who identify as females are dealing with the repercussions of inadequate menstrual health care, it is important to remember that periods do not only affect those who identify as cisgender women.

Periods Are Not Binary

In too many situations, non-binary individuals’ experiences are left out from important conversations. It is important to remember that not everyone who experiences periods identifies as a woman.

In an Instagram post, poet Cass Clemmer, shared an image of themselves bleeding with a poem captioned on their experience getting their period. There is an outdated statement often told to young people that getting your period is your first step into womanhood. Clemmer explains how terrifying this ideology for non-binary people is. Marketing that 75

menstruation is equal to femininity is dangerous to people who do not identify as female, but have periods. Clemmer posted an image on Instagram with their poem dealing with this as the caption, showing that gender inclusion means taking away the stigma that periods only apply to cisgender women. Clue reached out to transgender and non-binary people to ask how they deal with periods. While what makes one person more comfortable may not have the same effect on others, anonymous submissions suggested: try different products to see what makes you comfortable, engage in an activity that makes you feel happy, and reach out to a friend/ family member or talk to someone anonymously through The Trevor Project. Gendering body parts and bodily functions and the way that tampons and pads are marketed feed into a transphobic societal standard. Periods are not the same for everyone, and taking steps to challenge this conception can change the dialogue we have around menstruation.

While my story started off like most young women, scared and embarrassed talking about periods

I wish I could go back in time and tell my younger self that it was something perfectly normal. While I was supported thoroughly, I still felt weird being in middle school and being afraid to get my period. However, through global citizenship and the work of many menstruation activists, maybe one day all of us- no matter where you live, what your income is, how you identify or what beliefs you were raised upon- will feel completely comfortable with periods. While there is still work needed to be done and ways to go, all of the activists and organizations above are already changing lives in significant ways possible. Like Kairn Gandhiâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s race, our changes in menstruation are marathon, not a sprint, and we are paving the way to get to the finish line. 77

An eleven-year-old on my first day of ‘big school’ So excited to be grown up To be in the older girls’ uniform. My first assembly, straining my neck to see across all those taller than me. I was warned for the first time that my education was dependent on my looks. That too much makeup, too short a skirt, too outspoken a hairstyle Would make my appearance unsuitable for learning. We have male staff here. How are they supposed to teach you looking like that? I learned to adjust my being to accommodate other people. #WhenIWas A fifteen-year-old excited about my first boyfriend, Giddy on what I thought was love.

My first flash of romance dimmed with the warning You should watch yourself with marks like that, Lovebites send a message not suitable for young ladies like you. This time I learned that my personal choices were for others to judge, My sexuality a red card for me to bear In opposition to his gold star. #WhenIWas A seventeen-year-old laughing with a friend About to go and see a teen romcom, Popcorn spilling out of a bucket and down my top, We shrieked and she grabbed at my hoodie to help flick the kernels away. I turned to shake myself and was met by leering eyes, a sardonic smile. I froze, stepped back, pulled my hoodie up. The popcorn scratched at my chest and shoulders as we hurried away, No longer laughing. We discovered then that our bodies are not our own.

#WhenIWas A twenty-one-year-old high on single life, Summer barbecues and cider and shots of honey whiskey, Amongst friends and friends of friends. But even with those we mark as safe, Even after all my lessons on when and how I could exist, Even after ticking all the boxes, like “smart girls” do, I learnt that it’s not enough. A face I had laughed with over a campfire, A hand that had passed me a bottle opener, A voice I had grown familiar with just that evening— A person who shoved me against a wall by the toilet Taught me that there are never enough precautions.

What hashtag will get the message across? Which story will be shocking enough? How many is too many? #NowIAm Tired of learning. #NowIAm Ready to speak.

#WhenIWas A twenty-two-year-old burning with anger, I look back on what I learned. I look out to the others: #MeToo #YesAllWomen #WhyIDidntReport #BelieveSurvivors

Growing up Plus-sized I can’t remember a time in my life when I wasn’t the “chubby kid,” but I do remember when I first actively noticed it. My first best friend’s name was Brad. He lived one block away from me in a big, blue house that always smelled like SweeTarts, and we would ride our bikes together while he swore up and down that Francesca, from our kindergarten class, had cooties. I was totally, unequivocally, disgustingly in love with him. I was five.

PLUS-SIZED GIRLS' GUIDE

TO 82

WORKING OUT A N D S E L F LOV E words by MORGAN GJOEN

When I finally told my best friend, Amber, about this life-changing secret, she told me that she would find out if Brad liked me or not. The next day I saw them holding hands next to the crayon tin! My first heartbreak. I cried over my Thanksgiving hand cut-out turkey while I looked at my chubby hands and my pink My Little Pony sweatpants that cut into the baby fat on my stomach, and I wondered if Brad didn’t like me because I was bigger than Amber. Amber was the first skinny, delicate friend I had, but she sure as hell wasn’t the last. I was the funny, nice, fat friend with frizzy hair and glasses. The approachable one. The one people were friends with, not the one they had crushes on. One particularly vile boy in the fifth grade called me Godzilla for a month straight after I stepped on a pencil sharpener and it broke. Now I look back at pictures of me back then and wonder why kids were so terrible. I was just a normal-sized kid. Sure, maybe a little soft around the edges, but normal. Things got worse for me in high school. I stopped playing softball and started stressing about getting good enough grades for college. My friends were all dating and kissing and having their “firsts,” and I sank deeper and deeper into my books and schoolwork. Food

became a comfort to me, especially around times when my mental health was deteriorating. I snacked constantly, and the habits followed me into college. I gained about 100 pounds between my sophomore year of high school and junior year of college. 5 years, 100 pounds, 20 pounds per year. I don’t know why I didn’t pay attention for as long as I did, only vaguely noticing the weight gain, too preoccupied with my shit mental health to care about it. I just knew I was fat. it didn’t matter how fat. I didn’t like myself. The concept of self-love wasn’t even on my radar.

The final push I’m sure if you’ve struggled with body image, you, like I, have resolved to change your habits so many times you’ve lost count. Fad diets. Gym memberships used for three weeks. Counting calories. Keto diet. Weight Watchers or Arbonne or Yoli, and drinking only protein shakes for days on end. Nothing worked. Everything was expensive or made me exhausted or I was starving. I started to believe I would never be able to lose the weight. Earlier this year, I stopped sleeping well. I would wake up all through the night, restless, and then churn through my crazy schedule the next day on ridiculous amounts of coffee until I could finally flop back into bed for another terrible night’s sleep. I didn’t get a break. There was no time for me to procrastinate because I simply had no time.

One afternoon when I had no class, my roommate invited me to go to the gym with her and I said something akin to “Dang I really wish I could, but I should study!” You know, like a liar. Now, my roommate is an Occupational Therapy major and basically my second mother. She is constantly hyping me up and is honestly the best, but she’s also a huge nag. She’s always trying to make me have more fun and pattering on about the need for work-life balance. Cruel, I know. This particular day, she was determined that I do something for myself and dragged my ass to the gym. She’s a bundle of energy that could make watching paint dry seem like a good time, and with her bouncing next to me maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. I’m not very comfortable at the gym. I feel out of place and like a fraud and on this day, I was hyper-aware that it had been years since I’d been to one, but I knew the basics from my past fitness attempts. The alternative was going back home and facing all my homework so l focused on compiling some sort of workout routine. I went over to the squat racks and started with no weight on the bar. I did squats, lunges, and calf raises until I was shaking. I realized I didn’t want to leave yet though, so I went on the stationary bike, blasted my favorite Beyoncé-filled playlist, and went at it. After about ten minutes, I realized I was dripping with sweat. Like, actually. It was disgusting. But it was that weird time of the day when nobody is around, so I embraced the feeling of release, of the cool sweat running down my face. I felt free.

Is that not the cheesiest shit you’ve ever heard? Trust me, I cringed writing it, but I’m not bullshitting you. Literally, I felt a moment of euphoria. It was just a fleeting moment, yes, but it took my breath away. It was the first time in a long time that I wasn’t completely wrapped up in the stress of my own thoughts. It was just me and my body. It was liberating. I stayed at the gym 45 minutes that day and left a sweaty mess. To my absolute shock, I slept soundly through the night. I was hooked. I found that when I let my brain shut off for just a little while, things became clearer everywhere else in my life. I relaxed a little. I had a small escape, just for me, every day. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t at the gym to punish myself for what I was eating, or how I didn’t fit in. I was there because it made me feel good.

Change as a Side Effect of Health As I started to feel stronger after a few weeks at the gym, I also realized that my eating had changed bit by bit as well. Somewhere along the way, I realized that when I ate only crappy foods, I could hardly get through a workout. My muscles felt weak and I just wanted to lay down. On those days, I tried like hell to call back that feeling of euphoria. Those days, I just did it to finish. But overall, I was craving healthier foods. Fruits, protein and (OHMYGOD) vegetables! What!? I know. Weird. It wasn’t all the time, but it was often enough that I 84

started buying them regularly. Two months in, I weighed myself for the first time. I had lost ten pounds. Now, past me would have been upset. 10 pounds? When I have so many to go? Why wasn’t it 15? 20? What was the point? But no, I was excited. I felt good. I felt stronger physically, yes, but mostly mentally. I wasn’t restricting food, on a crazy fad diet, or counting calories. I wasn’t trying to lose weight. I was trying to be healthy. That’s it. After years and years of tearing myself apart and yelling at myself for being gross and eating like shit and weighing myself every single day, I realized I just wanted to be healthy. I just wanted to feel good. That day, I felt good. Even being overweight. Even being plus-sized. I felt healthy. I cried standing on my bathroom scale. I’ve been on this track for almost four months now and I’ve lost twenty pounds, but more than that, I feel more confident in my own skin. I go to the gym as much as I can. Usually, it’s 3 to 5 times a week, but some weeks it’s zero. I eat healthy most of the time. I eat unhealthy things a lot, too, because you know what? Sometimes you just need to take that 2 A.M. trip to Taco Bell. Girl, I get it. I’m feeding myself though, always, because I’m trying to actively give my body the love it deserves for dragging my sorry ass all over. Loving yourself. It’s easy to say, but so hard to do. If you are trying to get started, here a just a few tips to make it a little easier than it was for me.

Tips for starting a healthy life when you’re plus-size:

Buy some nice workout clothes that you are comfortable in!

This took me a little while to understand. I would buy whatever clothes were on sale because I’m a broke college student! Yes, they were cool colors, but I soon realized I hated working out in most of them. As a bigger girl, I sweat. A LOT. So gray shirts? No. Hate them. I only like black workout shirts. Personally, I hate when my arms are restricted, so I like to wear tank tops and I like when they are high necked, so I don’t have to worry about flashing anyone. I like leggings with pockets so I can keep my phone in them when I forget my Bluetooth headphones. Make sure you have supportive shoes. Figure out what you feel comfortable and confident in and stock up! I have four of the same black tank top from Old Navy and five different colors of their leggings. Find what works for you and donate what doesn't!

2 5 Get a pair of bluetooth headphones

Just do it. I finally did after a month of yanking my earbuds out of my ears.

Make a workout playlist and keep it updated

Change as a Side Effect of Health

If you’re anything like me, you don’t have a ton of time to listen to music so use this time to do just that! Keep your playlist updated with new upbeat songs you’re excited about. Personally, I listen to any of the Big Bootie Mixes on the Soundcloud app.

Break your workouts up by muscle group

The way I split up my days is a Push Day, Pull Day, and Leg Day. The way it works is you work out all the muscles you use when you are making a pushing or pulling motion separately, and then, obviously legs. Breaking it up like this decreases the chance of overworking your muscles and hurting yourself, especially when you’re plus size! The biggest issue larger people have with working out is injury from overuse. These are the muscles you should be working out on each day. Look up workouts on Pinterest or just on Google for the specific muscles. Push Day: Chest, Triceps, and Shoulders. Pull Day: Back, Biceps, Forearms, Wrists Leg Day: All Leg Muscles & Butt Muscles (No Cardio on this day other than stairs, if you want.)

6 4 Start with weights, end with cardio

If you’re scared of weights, don’t be. They’re your friend! What’s great about weightlifting is that it continues to burn calories for hours after you do it. Also, for us curvy girls, it’s less impact than cardio and better on our joints.

If you're 20 mins into a workout and you still want to leave... LEAVE!

Some days, the gym is hell. You’re tired or cranky. It happens. Tell yourself that you only have to go for twenty minutes. My rule is that if I’m at the gym and have actively worked out for twenty minutes and I STILL want to leave, I leave. Some days we don’t need to push ourselves. Some days we have to be able to say, I tried and today just isn’t my day, but I’ll try again tomorrow.

Grocery shop for healthy things that grab your eye

Generally, it’s important to go to the store with a grocery list. Pick a few things you like to eat for each meal. For example, I like to make a big pot of chili and eat it all week. Write those down and try to keep them relatively non-processed (eggs and toast over sugary cereal). Then when you’re grocery shopping, get what’s on your list, but also keep your eyes open when you’re going through the fresh produce. Any vegetables or fruits that look good? Grab those. Some weeks I eat a lot of fruit because that’s what I’m craving. Some weeks I eat no meat because I’m just not in the mood. Sometimes this means your diet isn’t balanced, but it’s better to have an unbalanced diet filled with fresh foods than to go on a strict diet that leads to a carbo-load.

It’s been four months of actively practicing self-love. I’m less tired. I’m sleeping better. I’m stronger. My mind is clearer. I work out when I need to get out of my head and take a break, and I eat healthy because I need to fuel my body to keep up with my busy life. Self-love isn’t a linear journey, and I have days where I eat like crap and want to punish myself for it. But overall, I realize these days don’t break me. It’s just one unhealthy day in an otherwise healthy life.

I remember your smell the most. It was that cologne- Georgio Armani “Eau Por Homme.” I know because I smelt it once, walking through Macy’s with my mom. I had to run to the bathroom and sit on that cold, hard, marble, floor, trying to claw away that memory of you touching me with your barbed wire hands like my body was the target in a war. I covered my tears with a sorry excuse about period pains, because I didn’t think my mother would know best anymore. And speaking of my period, I missed it that month, in case you’re curious. There was a pregnancy test in my drawer, That I had bought at the local drug store, where the cashier almost dropped to the floor when I walked up to pay, because, I’m sure, the last thing she expected to see that day,

Finsta Cultu

You’ll remember my name.

words by Olivia La nd

Disclaimer: the events portrayed in this poem do not pertain to the author, but are the experiences of close friends combined into a single poem.

words by CIRA MANCUSO

Content warning: rape and sexual assault.

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Oh, and don’t forget timing. Post too late or early in the day, and your post might not attract maximum

“likes."

Because everyone from yours truly to a zealous pet-lover in Cape Town is treating their personal Instagram as a visual résumé, it’s not surprising that individuals need another way to let off some more candid steam. Enter the “finsta,” or, fake Instagram. I can’t remember when finstas got started; all I know is that suddenly my friends had second Instagrams with cheeky names where they posted goofy pictures with rant-y, often self-deprecating captions. I never joined in, but I enjoyed following my friends’ accounts for a good laugh.

finsta /'fin-stə/

ram

ag 1. a fake Inst

Perhaps because I am acutely aware of my own struggle to reconcile reality with what I see on social media, over the past year my experience as a finsta follower has grown less giggly and more concerned. At least once a day, it seems, I come across one of my friend’s finstas with a caption about school stress, family problems, depression, and other troubling thoughts punctuated with a close-up selfie and choice 88

emojis. My immediate reaction is to send that person a text letting them know I have their back, which is another thing I find myself doing more and more lately. Rachel, a college student in New York City, reported a similar experiences. “I have read [finsta posts] that are extremely alarming,” she said. “I have commented in the past on a few posts letting the person know I’m there to talk.” Liz, also a college student, shared that while she doesn’t see many disturbing posts in her feed, she believes there is an unhealthy way to use finstas, including accounts that “exclusively post complaints.” Following this line of thought, I can’t help but think that it’s worth asking ourselves if finsta culture is pure fun, or if it’s actually the hiding place of our generation’s mental health crisis. It’s no secret that, as with many pop culture phenomena that came before it, social media is having its “hold up, smoking kills you” moment. While there are plenty of psychological studies and new articles about the detriments of Instagram (did somebody say “comparison trap”?), opinions on the finsta are conflicting at best. In 2015, the New York Times published an article that noted how users found a rare “chance to be real” on their alternative accounts. In 2017, a different author pondered if the false sense of privacy associated with the finsta might encourage teens to recklessly overshare, or to post compromising images and words that might come back to bite them in the future. As someone who is passionate about creating transparency around mental health in particular, I wish I could agree with the Times on this issue. With that being said, I cannot help but see the finsta as the closet panic attack, the pillow we use to mute our screams of frustration, or the meek smile we offer to say, “I’m fine!” even when we’re not. The reason finstas are such popular spaces for sharing those less-than-pretty moments of our lives is probably because their

pals that she feels “so fat” or “totally gross lol” after eating. In this way, the finsta is not only perpetuating unrealistic standards about what everyday life should look like, but it’s also upholding the idea that women’s “imperfections” or emotional struggles are unpredictable and inappropriate and need to be locking our hidden from view.

inflection is laced with sarcasm and self-deprecation. In this way, the teary-eyed, red-nosed selfies and angsty captions become merely another way to avoid the problem, to rip off the band-aid without ever considering the wound.

The same self-deprecating tone that makes finBy sta posts read as more struggles away on a covert Urban Dictionary defines humorous than serious 'finsta' as Instagram acalso has a huge impact account, we are perpetuating counts where individuals on the way our cul“post pictures they only ture perceives mental the idea that mental health strug- want their closest friends health. By locking our seeing.” Without fully unstruggles away on a gles—or simply the idea of packing that sentence, let’s covert account, we are just say that I think we need to perpetuating the idea being less than perfect— reevaluate the culture around that mental health strugare shameful. fake Instagrams. I’m not saying gles—or simply the idea of everyone needs to delete theirs imbeing less than perfect—are mediately, only that I think we need to get shameful. On the Internet in general, more honest about how we’re using them. If you there seems to be this growing impulse towards have a funny picture with friends or a rant about a making fun of ourselves as a means of “apoloprofessor you want to share, go ahead. If you’re gizing” for everything from being sad, to not doseriously down or struggling with something, skip ing our makeup, to eating something besides a the finsta post and tell someone you trust. My fawell-lit açai bowl. While laughter can be a healthy vorite ways to dig myself out of a rut are to text my way of reevaluating what we perceive as “flaws,” friends, do a crossword, or go for a run. For you, there comes a time when we need to seriously it might be calling your mom, going for a walk, consider if we’re really joking, or else internalizor else turning to other resources. Maybe drop ing negative self-talk. by your campus counselling office, or research And what about gender? From my pertherapy options in your area. Apps like Talkspace, spective, the finsta phenomenon is proof of how which offer on-the-go, as-needed sessions with pressures surrounding social media disproportherapists, are also becoming popular coping tionately affect women. Think about it: how many methods. Reaching out won’t be easy, and it will guys that you know have a finsta? Probably very probably take some practice before you’re fully few or none at all. Society’s standards of beauty comfortable expressing yourself without a goofy and acceptance are more forgiving of men being selfie to play things off. But trust me when I say #nofilter. A man, for example, might feel comfortyou’ll be grateful for reaching out in real life as able, even proud, to post a picture of a burger opposed to shouting into the social media void. with a caption like “Ready to destroy this baby,” while a woman may be more likely to hide that picture on her finsta, telling her select group of

Ah, self-care. Disclaimer: I’m not a therapist, and I can only speak from my own experience. But in my experience, when the topic of self-care emerges in conversation, most of the suggestions revolve around doing a face mask, taking a bath, or binge-watching a series on Netflix. All of these activities are lovely and I do recommend partaking in them, but they do not offer long-term solutions to stress or accurately depict what self-care is really about. What do I do after I’ve rewatched the same television series multiple times or my skin prunes up from the bath or I run out of face masks? Think of yourself as a pie. (I prefer blueberry.) The pie is divided into slices, and as the maker of the pie you have control over the size of each one. Hopefully, you have gathered by now that this dessert is a metaphor for life. One section of the pie might consider your interpersonal relationships, another section for physical appearance, another for your talents and hobbies, and another for everyday or work-related obligations, to name a few.

You can tell if a pie is good based on how much effort and care was put into baking it. It wouldn’t make sense for a baker to put all of their time and energy into 1/4 of the pie and ignore the quality of the rest. This is how I choose to think about self-care. It’s about tending to each part of yourself, and acknowledging when some sections need a little more care than others. When all is said and done you can have your pie and eat it, too. Here are a few legit, helpful, non-bullshit ways to practice self care that actually help. words by MADDIE RIZZO

Sleep is (not) for the Weak In collaboration with 41 Winks

In a society that prides a lack of sleep as a badge of honor, it's a rebellious act to take ownership of one's sleep.

I’m a twenty-one-year-old who has not used a nightlight in probably 15 years. However, when I think about the glow of my metallic baby that’s encrusted with an Apple, I - and perhaps you too - reconsider this statement. My little iPhone is my source of light in the darkness; I scroll through my feeds, check my email, and message friends into the late hours of the night thanks to the handy bright lights of my screen. And I wonder why I yawn while reaching for my 3rd cup of coffee at 2:00 PM. Our laptops ding, reminding us of the mountains of work piling up in our inbox, our Netflix puts on the next episode without us even having to click a button, and the luminescence of our phones make it way too easy to put off sleep for hours. Have you ever felt like someone is bragging about how little sleep they have gotten? Or why sleeping the least amount oftentimes feels like a badge of honor? Society’s view of sleep makes no sense. Why should we act

as if sleep is something for the weak? Sleep is a natural medicine and your body’s way to take care of itself. It’s often overlooked how fun (and important) sleep actually is. I know, I know - there’s late night study sessions (or parties or make outs) and suddenly it’s 4 A.M. A young person’s lifestyle normally doesn’t yield itself to the best sleeping habits. Getting a good night’s sleep is a dream. Not only do you actually get to dream, but you also wake up feeling refreshing, renewed, and ready to accomplish what the day has in store. Among its many benefits, sleep keeps your physical and mental health in check, helps you stay alert (sans caffeine), and can even make you smarter.

less people deal with sleep disorders like insomnia that make getting some shut-eye even more unattainable. Stress, worries, and anxiety can also keep you up way too late. Even if we want to sleep more, it can be challenging to do so. Enter a company that’s doing its part to put the sleep back in society and help human everywhere own their sleep cycles. 41 Winks, stylish producers of sleep accessories and plush slogan eye masks. is helping people chicly get their beauty sleep. They have a dream where everyone is getting enough sleep because it’s needed, rather than trendy. If you’ve felt tired during the day (and who hasn’t?!), make it your mission to make sure you get more sleep. It ultimately comes down to your sleep environment.

Get in the ~mood~ to sleep by: 1. Starting a Nightly Ritual. It helps to have certain nightly patterns before you sleep. Maybe you always take a shower and then read. Maybe you do a few minutes of meditation before brushing your teeth. Find things that help you get in the mood to sleep and get in the habit of repeating them nightly to coax your body into the sleep rhythm.

Ideally, you should be getting around 6-8 hours of sleep per night, with women actually needing a few more minutes than man. The reason for this is women are more likely to multitask, meaning their brains work harder and therefore take longer to recover.1

2. Get excited. If you’ve ever babysat, you may have experienced the screams, tears, and “no”s from a child who is anything but excited to go to bed. A two-year-old may see the idea of going to sleep as a nightmare in-it-of-itself, but it’s anything but that. Shifting your mindset towards sleep can make the process of falling asleep so much easier. Convince yourself- and truly believe- that going to sleep is fun!

This is easier said than done. I, like so many other Gen Zers, am distracted by my phone. On a more serious note, count-

3. Unplugging. We all know that our phones keep us up. The light is an impeding keeper-upper, not a soft nightlight glow, and the vibrate is an annoying murmur, not a lullaby. Make sure to dim your phone, leave it on nightstand or dresser, and put on soft music or a podcast to get you in the sleep state. 4. Incorporating cool colors. 41 Winks makes cloudlike eye masks in light hues like pinks, blues, and purples. These cooling colors are soft and dreamy, bringing about a whimsical haze. Try to incorporate these colors into where you sleep in order to get you in the mood. 5. Getting comfy. Pajamas, eye masks, and comforters exist for a reason - you need to be comfy to fall asleep! In my opinion, a good night’s sleep can only happen when you’re cradled by comfort. Do what you have to do to make sure you’re cozy. 6. Blocking out stimulants. No one needs lights or sounds disrupting their snooze sesh. If you find that you can’t sleep because your roommate always keeps the light on or your neighbor loves to blast music into dawn, do what you can to block the stimulants. Heck, 41 Winks even offers a mask that reads “BLOCK OUT THE HATERS” that could be a subtle subtweet to *that* person. Use earplugs if you have to, or consider trying an eye mask to get rid of the light. Taking ownership of your sleep can make you look like an outsider. In a society where a lack of sleep is celebrated, it may be up to you to be the person catalyzing a sleep trend in your circle of friends, coworkers, or study mates. Society stops us from pursuing our dreams, being ourselves, and feeling our best- sleep should not be an added inhibitor. It is revolutionary to be a young woman breaking boundaries; likewise, it is revolutionary to be a young person prioritizing sleep. The two go hand in hand. Enable yourself to go out and make change backed by the nourishment you need - sleep.

1. https://www.businessinsider.com/why-women-need-more-sleep-2017-2?r=UK

41 Winks eye masks and sleep accessories can be purchased at www.41Winks.com. 93

COMMUNITY & RELATIONSHIPS

2019.05.01 MAKEMUSE

Why You Should Care About Feminist Social Capital words by KELLY FRIDAY

As struggling young adults in an age where face to face communication is falling more and more out of practice, the need for young women to connect with each other is even more prevalent. This is where social capital comes in. Joining a sorority, chatting with people in class or at your local coffee shop, becoming a member of a club on campus, starting your first job at a new company. The ways to create a portfolio of social capital when youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re young are endless. Simply put, the term social capital refers to relationships. We are social creatures, and as such, we have an inherent need to build relationships with each other, and even other creatures. Social capital refers to how we develop relationships in the context of communities, and how those relationships affect our lives overall.

I recently had a speaker come to one of my classes to give a lecture on Social Capital. He was animated, engaging and excited for us to learn, though I think it is safe to assume that he didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t expect one member of his audience to attempt to relate the concept of building social capital to feminism.

I did anyway.

Broadly speaking, social capital depends on interdependence. When you think about it, our lives are interconnected webs of people who depend on us, and whom we depend on. We each use our strengths to support othersâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; weaknesses and vice versa. Through the act of building connections and supporting each other, planting roots and fostering growth, we acquire more social capital and are healthier, happier, and more emotionally grounded - concepts which are incredibly relevant to the young people of the 21st century. Social capital is tied to problem-solving, creative and critical thinking, and acts as a natural support system. Social capital promotes tolerance, forgiveness, integrity and a hundred more positive adjectives that everyone looks for in an accepting community. In terms of a community of feminists, it resonates in the same way, and follows the same basic principles. The feminist movements would have crumbled to dust without these things.

You walk in to “Introduction to Feminist Theory,” find a seat next to other like-minded folks, and start exchanging pleasantries:

- acquaintanceships - friendships - the covenant

Acquaintanceships refer to people you know on the most elementary level. Your relationship with them isn’t very substantial. In fact, acquaintances are people you may only exchange the simplest greetings within your day-to-day life. Friendships, refer to people who share your interests, and who you frequently have deeper exchanges with. Simply put, these are the people you hang out with. Finally, the covenant refers to people you love, people you have a special place for in your life. You spend most of your time with them, and share with them the highest level of

mutuality. 98

What is a feminist acquaintanceship? A feminist friendship? A feminist covenant? Do they even exist?

“What's your major

Sociologists have determined that social capital exists in three basic spheres:

“Hello!”

Obviously, yes, or you wouldn’t be reading this if they didn’t. Building your feminism, essentially, is building social capital. Let’s say your journey begins in a Gender Studies course at your university. 99

and unsexualized affection that I discovered in them were unrivaled compared to any other relationship. In terms of social capital, a female friendship is priceless.

“Ah yes, I too enjoy staying up late to read A Vindication of the Rights of Woman by Mary Wollstonecraft, published in 1792!” Congratulations! You have just taken the first step towards an acquaintanceship. You have leveled up and acquired not only the most basic level of social capital, but you have also gained feminist insight. But, it doesn’t always have to start this way. Maybe you strike up a conversation with another feminist on the bus, or at a party. The point is to have conversations, make connections and start collecting social capital over time and through various interactions. Speaking with people who share your beliefs, or better yet, speaking with those who don’t has a greater impact on who you grow to be and impacts your social capital. Again, it’s all about forging relationships, especially as a feminist. An acquaintance doesn’t have to be your best friend, but they might be the perfect person to introduce you to a person or a group of women who can ignite a feminist spark within you.

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Many of us have acquaintances. I consider many people I have a class with or work with to be acquaintances. A lot of them have acted as stepping stones or connections to others who helped me or even became my friends. Friendships are so much stronger than acquaintanceships. There is a deeper level of intimacy with friends; an intimacy that exists especially in female friendships. As Queen Beyonce says, “I love my husband, but it is nothing like a conversation with a woman that understands you. I grow so much from those conversations.” Identifying as a feminist can be rocky at the best of times. Finding your stride in a society that always seems to want to hold you back seems nearly impossible. But, with the right people on your team, suddenly you feel like you can conquer the world, and that’s what feminism offers every woman. Friends. A community. A network of sisters who want to push and support you at the same time. Female friendships are strong. I agree with Beyonce: In my own experience, there is nothing like confiding in a close girlfriend. For me, attending an all-girls high school helped me to come to this realization. I was able to network with the brightest, most inspiring young women. These friendships were built out of immense trust and compassion, and the level of understanding, support,

The Covenant d n i K s u s e J e h t Not Sociologically speaking, a covenant refers to the people we love, and the people we are closest to. Our covenants represent the most profound connections in our lives. For many, this refers to our families, however you define them. For me, my covenant is representative, first and foremost, of my mom, aunt, grandmother, and a few best friends. They are my role models, my biggest cheerleaders, my deepest supporters. I confide in them. They know my grandest dreams, my darkest anxieties, and richest hopes. In short, they know me. That is what a covenant is: a bond. Bonds are made between feminists all the time, and it’s a beautiful thing to reach such a level of understanding and reciprocity. To me, the word “support” keeps

coming to mind. I have been witness to feminists going out of their way to support the strides of other girls not only because they want them to succeed, but also because they know such care will be reciprocated.

Female covenants are formed as the product of widespread connection and common affinities. They exist as systems to boost confidence, to cherish beliefs, and extend arms of tolerance and acceptance to anyone within their reach. They’re important, and we need them to grow, to discover new hopes, passions and skills.

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Disabled, Not Unable:

It means that we cannot hope to have a full life without collecting some sort of social capital.. Research has proven that positive relationships are integral to our happiness and better our lives. But, what about the value of those relationships? Simply knowing a bunch of people doesn’t necessarily mean that your social capital is worth anything. We need to give something and get something out of relationships.

According to sociologists, our social networks depend on three types of support: Instrumental Informational Emotional Instrumental support revolves around more tangible benefits: perhaps dropping your friend off at an interview. Informational support is more or less utilizing resources that come out of your relationships like giving advice to your little sister about going to college. In my opinion, emotional support is where it’s at. Emotional support isn’t anything you can hold in your hand, rather it is something you hold in your heart.

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How Witnessing My Sibling’s Disability Guided My Activism Words by Melanie Rodriguez

For girls, emotional support is vital to everything we’ve been talking about: social capital, relationships, even health. The good thing is that girls are exceptional in offering emotional support. We help each other cope with stress. We act as sounding boards to talk about our troubles and worries. We instill resilience, strength, comfort, and confidence in each other. Research shows that women tend to be more social than men. And as a result, our survival and reliance can be exclusively tied to our social capital. This is true within our feminist journey as well. Our survival as women, as feminists, can be contingent on the social capital that we build up.

I don’t know about everyone else, but as an older sibling, I feel a certain level of responsibility for my younger sibling. Older siblings are usually caretakers and feel the need to serve as a role model for their younger siblings. As a sibling of someone living with a disability, I can confirm all of these things to be true, but there’s a sense of added pressure. I often find myself acting like a third parent. As the child of Cuban immigrants, I’ve grown up constantly translating for my parents. It became very natural for me to attend things that would most usually be considered adult tasks. I’ve sat through countless doctor’s appointments, parent-teacher conferences, insurance phone calls– you name it. Even though I was used to these things, as I got older and my dad fell ill, I started to better understand what was happening when it came to both my brother and my dad. My brother had four consecutive brain tumor surgeries as a toddler and most recently had another surgery in the summer of 2017 because of the tumor’s resurgence. He also has high functioning autism (previously known as Asperger’s). It’s hard to sit through these conversations as merely a conduit of information knowing there’s absolutely nothing you can do to help your family more than you already do. However, through them, I’ve learned a

lot about myself and what I stand for. Throughout my brother’s life, like many older siblings, I’ve always felt an innate need to watch over and protect him. According to my mom, I would constantly ask to lay my head on her belly during pregnancy. When he was little, I would constantly want to rock his cradle or teach him devious new tricks. He’s definitely the better half of me. While I was rebelling against our parents as a child, he would be the one to set his own time-out timer when he knew he had done something wrong. Ironically, I always wanted to make sure he was doing everything right. I checked his homework, helped him with projects, and encouraged him to pursue his activities. I even let him take over my Barbie Dream House to use as a fort for his Power Rangers. But when I was fourteen and my dad became ill, it was clear to me that I had to be more than just a sibling for him. Having to step up to this role definitely put a strain in our relationship. My brother would get upset at me, saying that I thought of myself as “too adult” or throwing in the occasional “you’re not my mom.” It doesn’t help that I’m only one year and four days older than him. Now that he’s older, and for the most part independent, I struggle to find a balance where he doesn’t feel like he’s being coddled. 44 103

Though at times it has been difficult and I wish my brother wouldn’t have to endure so much pain through so many surgeries, I would never want to change anything about him. He’s the funniest and wittiest person I know. It’s definitely a roller coaster ride with highs of older sister pride, lows of questioning and frustration, and the occasional moments of sibling rivalry throughout. But one thing I have learned through this ride is the importance of taking care of myself as a person and not just someone’s caretaker.

1 2 3 4 5

What I 've Learned

It’s okay to feel frustrated. I know I’ve often felt hopeless and you get mad at yourself for thinking that, but it IS okay to feel frustrated at times. Just learn how to work through it, whether it’s taking a moment to stop what you are doing and breathe or walk away from the situation for a few minutes. Find what works for you. Take time for yourself and your self-care. Although this sounds cliche, you really can’t handle the weight of the world on your shoulders. I mean, after all, it’s literally physically impossible. Try to learn more. One thing that has helped me a lot is trying to learn as much as possible about my brother’s disability. Learning more allows you to be better prepared for situations that may arise and also makes you a better ally. Talk about it. Talk to someone. Talk. Reach out to others. It’s so easy to keep everything bottled up for fear of seeming selfish or just not knowing how to express how you’re feeling, but talking to a friend, family member, or teacher, can be extremely helpful. Plus, you never know who will be able to guide you to the right resources. Make time for your sibling. Take time for shared activities that don’t revolve around the caretaking aspect of your relationship. Do something other than homework or college applications. Whether that’s watching the latest LEGO movie or funny animal videos, do something that you can bond over.

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From IEP Meetings Attendee to Education Social Reformer Overall, my relationship with my brother and our family dynamic has been instrumental in how I view the world around me. I’m currently studying Exceptional Student Education on a policy track in the hopes of making improvements to the policies that currently govern our education system, especially in communities of lower socioeconomic status. It can be very hard to feel secure in your field of study when so many people are constantly telling you that “there’s no money in that,” but my experience has allowed me to stand firm in what I want to do.

Witnessing the work of others who have encouraged my brother to use his skills to get him to where he is today as president of his school’s student government association has inspired me to follow their work. Although some people tell me that my field is simply one of advocacy and no real changes can be made, or that enough progress has already been made, or that there’s barely anyone in that field, I am determined to get other people to join me to make a change.

You should always strive to make the change that you feel is needed in your community, even if that means being the first one.

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Five Ways You Can Be a Better Ally to People With Disabilities In Your Daily Life

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Let people with disabilities speak for themselves. While advocacy is important, it’s important that not all of it comes through a caregiver lens. The first step to being a good ally, as with any aspect of allyship, is to listen to those who live these experiences first hand. Support their voices and march alongside them, but let them use their own voices. My family has always encouraged my brother to be proud of who he is and because of that, he is his own greatest advocate. Be conscious of the language you use. Strive to use people-first language over identity-first language. Although some people don’t mind being referred to as a “disabled person” because it’s such an integral part of their identity, you should always strive to use people-first language when unknown. For example, when referring to someone’s disability say “the girl with autism” rather than “the autistic girl.” This is really important because it allows people to be just people before anything else. Don’t pity or feel sorry for someone living with a disability. As advocate Amy Allison stated, “People do not suffer from their diagnosis but they do suffer from outdated myths, stereotypes and constant ableism surrounding them.” Don’t make assumptions. Disabilities are not always visible. Simply put, when you see someone without visible disabilities using services, don’t be a jerk about it. (Trust me, I could write a whole other piece on this alone.) Don’t set low expectations. My brother’s college essay is titled “Disabled, Not Unable.” Oftentimes, people have low expectations for a person with disabilities. This is an ableist perspective. Don’t immediately assume that a person’s ability will be determined by their disability.

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Becoming It took three years to get the words out of my innocent, teenage mouth. Three simple words were stuck on the tip of my tongue, content in silence, found their comfort in never revealing that I was different than everyone else. I protected my identity changed the gender pronouns in my love poems from her to him, crushed on that girl in math class in the back row, (silky brunette hair) spent hours daydreaming of alternative universes from the unexplored crevices of my developing mind. I stood prey to the silence the nerve-ending, spine-bending, fear of being myself. i never showed those poems to anyone— my sexuality was a secret I kept from myself.

one day, I let myself be known in quiet conversation, a normal Tuesday, the day I felt like a Hero I was careful not to let the words drip onto passing ears. they oozed off of my tongue like caramel, my best friend was the first to know.

the bittersweet words felt sour on the ears. she disappeared into her own self-induced shock, paralyzed by the reality of three little words (“Kristie, I’m Bisexual”) suddenly, I was a daisy in a rose garden, a full moon in the light of day, entrapped with sin,

for months praying for alternate endings a nice vacation to conformity, sweet escape from the bitter, hard-candy center of hypocritical men who use my sexuality as a playtoy, a personal accessory that can be switched like a remote.

Myself the ones who paint their perfect portraits of women lusting after each other,

however, the same men who manipulate their perfect scenario

unconditionally, tenderly— without them.

a demand to be myself, no matter the sexist consequences.

kissing, fucking, anything out of their own imagination,

to place these women together like puppets, scorn the women who love each other

I said my truth that day as a proclamation that belongs to me,

a declaration I wrote, allowing myself to be a free woman.

"Much of my feminism has been shaped by a miniscule part of who I am, my sexuality. Growing up as a young, bisexual female, I’ve seen sexism from a different light than that which my classmates and heterosexual peers have experienced. I decided to explore the time in my life when I came out to my best friend, and bring light to the importance of speaking your truth to the world and accepting yourself as a woman, feminist, and more importantly, human. Through this, I also wanted to highlight a prevalent issue in society—the fetishization of women’s sexuality in society."

Words by Heidi Perez-Moreno.

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PHOTO GRAPHY 111

THE PINK RENAISSANCE words by MICHELA SOTTURA

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I still remember the rush of anticipation, the tingle in my legs, and the widening of my eyes at the overwhelming tidal wave of pink. Rows of bright fuchsia dotted with pale mauves and shiny bubble gum packages stood before me in a whirlwind of consumerist bliss. The girls’ toys aisle was my private church, my holy sanctuary. The pink would drown me in its intense hues, reminding me that everything around me was specifically designed for me, a girl. I never questioned why this color was chosen for me by the magical factories that would roll out my favorite Barbie dolls, fake kitchenware, make-up, clothes, school supplies, toothbrushes, Bandaids, and, obviously, tampon wrappers. I never wondered why pink reassured me that I was, in fact, a girl. I needed girl things; I was not “girl enough” unless I loved the color with my whole little heart. And I did love it. Every good thing in my life seemed to be pink. I took pride in my pink-colored world and in my girlhood. I was lucky and privileged enough to fit in with the pinkness perfectly, rejecting the rowdy blue of boyhood.

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As you, our dear reader, may be aware, the gender binary wasn’t always reinforced with these two colors. Jo B. Paoletti, a historian at the University of Maryland, analyzed the history of girlpink and boy-blue in her book “Pink and Blue: Telling the Girls From the Boys in America.” According to Paoletti, before the mid-19th century, babies and children were mostly dressed in white. When pink, blue, and pastels made their entrance, they were still just colors and not strong indicators of a baby’s biological sex. It was in an article published in a 1918 issue of the trade publication Ernshaw’s Infants’ Department that colors first were used to distinguish between the two. Surprisingly enough, pink was the strong, powerful, manly color of baby boys, while blue was the delicate soft hue of girls. It was only in the 1940s that manufacturers and retailers in America decided to flip the narrative. Now pink was the dainty girl color, while blue was deep and strong for boys. These colors remained symbols of girlhood and boyhood until the mid-1960s, when, thanks to the women’s liberation movement, gender-neutral clothing and toys became popular. The history of gendered colors changed again when prenatal testing was introduced. Now parents had the ability to find out the appearance of their baby’s genitalia before they were born. Corporations were all over it. Now parents could choose gendered items that would tell the world that, yes, their coming baby had a vagina, and her world was bound to be pink—from the crib, to the stroller, to the diapers. Ever since then, pink and blue regained their status as iconic gendered colors. 114

I walked to school wearing my magenta backpack and flashing my flamingo dresses until I was about eleven years old. Then, the roaring rebellion of pre-adolescence ate up all my love for everything pink and girly. I was getting older, about to be a teenager, and I needed to identify myself by my own rules. I began to reject everything pink stood for: femininity, daintiness, and weakness. I was taught that girls who wore their femininity on their sleeves were vapid, dumb, and only cared about boys and beauty. I couldn’t identify with the color pink anymore. I had to find a signature? color that would make everyone take me seriously. I refused to reinforce gender stereotypes while complying with society’s limited definition of the color at the same time. Little did I know that no matter what girls wear, the world will find something wrong with it. Still, I chose black. I was a punkrock chick now. I had an electric guitar and wore band t-shirts and thick eyeliner. The only woman I truly identified with was the singer Avril Lavigne. She was the late 2000s Halsey or Hayley Williams, and I worshipped her rebellion. I aimed to be as tough and cool as she was, which, at the time, meant refusing anything traditionally feminine. I was complying with society’s definition of gender roles even while I was claiming to rebel? against it.

Distancing myself from pink meant believing that girls who expressed femininity were somehow weaker and not as smart and sophisticated as I was. My world was turned around when my idolized pop-rock princess released the song “Girlfriend” and the album, The Best Damn Thing, which featured the iconic pink and black skull and album art exploding with pink. Now, she had a fuchsia streak in her hair, and to my horror, she even wore pink dresses. My heart was torn. On one hand, I loved Avril more than myself, but on the other I was still so convinced that pink equated to girly and therefore equated to weak. It didn’t take long, however, to forget my hatred for the color. I slowly began admitting to myself that I had always loved the color pink. I had the best memories tied to it; it was the color of my childhood. The change in Lavigne’s aesthetic allowed me to fall in love with pink again. I recognized that more than being averse to the color, I was angry at the gender norms that had been imposed on me my whole life as a girl. Rebelling from pink was a necessary step in recognizing the ways the binary controlled my life and limited my experiences. As I came into my feminist identity, I started associating pink with power and strength. If the color communicated that I was a girl who loved being a girl, then so be it. There was nothing wrong with a rose-colored world. The past few years have seen a true Pink Renaissance. From the pink ribbon of Breast Cancer Awareness, to the pink pussy hats that reigned in the seas of protesters in Women’s Marches all over the world, feminism has reclaimed the color and made it a symbol of resilience and power. The amazing author Roxane Gay discussed the complicated relationship between feminism and pink in her collection of essays Bad Feminist. Gay confesses her love for the color pink, and the shame that comes with being a feminist and loving a gendered color, as it presents a contradiction within itself. But if the true goal of feminism is to liberate women from the oppression that gender norms impose on us, then that also means allowing women to love any color they want without it having to be an indicator of the kind of women they are. Millenial women, men, and non-binary individuals are taking back pink, and reclaiming it as the color of self-acceptance and comfort with one’s gender expression. The clearest example of which is the hue deemed “millennial pink,” a color that has as much money behind it as pop culture clout. As I look back at the overwhelming joy that the aisle of pink toys gave me, I recognize its role in enforcing gender norms, but I also rejoice in my power to shamelessly claim pink as my favorite color again. Janelle Monae sings in her iconic song that pink is the color unites us all, as it’s found in “the deepest nooks and crannies of humans everywhere.” From our tongues, to the folds of our brain, to the inner lids of our eyes, the halls of our hearts, to what’s deepest inside, we’re all a little pink.

Anything is possible with sunshine and a little pink - Lilly Pulitzer

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Words and Artwork by Oie Holm

The process of transitioning from a child to a woman differs in cultures around the world. Some of the existent practices are extremely painful, both mentally and physically. Knowing what pain women around the world go through every day, I have to be nothing but grateful to live in a society and time where I have the power of choice over my body and life. Not long ago, my grandmother told me that the only choice for escaping from marriage was exile, suicide, or nunhood. Getting married or having children now is a choice. When I became a woman, while growing up in Estonia, I decided to ab-

stain from the physical side in order to fully know who I was as an individual. I wanted to be independent and to fall in love with myself first before devoting myself to anything or anyone else. I wanted to know to understand the secrets in my heart and have the ability to act upon them standing alone in this world. This body of work represents the mistakes I have made, what I have learned, the time Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve spent figuring things out, and the patience Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve had to have. My art explores different mediums like graphics, drawing, painting, sculpture, installation, and photography. Though each piece is different, my art investigates a chaotic lifestyle represented in every corner of the world- a pile of unpredictability. In the end, it forms a romance of visual art. I feel that art is a lifesaver- it makes me look at society through the prism of inspiration and the opportunity to learn instead of misery and suffering. 117

PLEASURE AND PAIN

LITTLE ME

The series starts with a helpless miniature clay sculpture of a child in a bucket. The child, with its reaching arms crying out for help, is me. Sculpture “LITTLE ME“ was created in the process of mourning the past to finally move forward. I gave myself the care that I did not receive as a child. I started to regrow and heal the little child inside me by my own rules. This was the start of my new identity; an identity that is not who I have been told I am by my parents, by society, or by guilt.

GLARE

This black and white photo with an abstract charcoal drawing is a picture of my sister, the one closest to me. At times, she is my teacher, glaring in the distance, analyzing where I have come from and where I will go. This symbolizes the moment of understanding where you realize that turning back to old habits is to turn your back on your newfound fearless self.

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An acrylic painting of a sexual act, red paint flowing down a pee-yellow canvas. The woman has its feet bending over her head to please others. There was pleasure-too much of it- and then there was the pain. I hope that all young women are not as insecure as I was. At times, I thought that my body was not able to fulfill its biological functions. However, it is, NOT broken.

FORGOTTEN FACES

This piece was inspired by a woman named Audrey Munson, one of New York’s most sought-after nude models and an advocate for the rights of creative women in the early 1900s. She was once a household name in the United States, but at the age of 40, she was sent to the St. Lawrence State Hospital for the Insane in Ogdensburg, New York, where she eventually died. She was once captivating to so many but became a forgotten face because of the tragic aspects of her life. I myself struggle with chronic depression… but who doesn't nowadays? When I read about her life, I ran out of my bed to the computer to create this image of a faceless woman that popped into my head. My ego tells me sometimes I'm special, but I know that everything physical disappears eventually.

REFLECTION

This silkscreen print features two people jumping towards each other. Their hands are spread towards the sky and covered with aggressive drawings from my teenage years. Everything I did, I saw in my partner. Everything I hated in my partner, I saw in myself. He was the reflection of my emotions. 119

THE EYE

A black and white photo of a vertically flipped eye resembles a vulva covered with silk. When I was a little girl, I did not think of my body as a vessel for life or a manifestation of divinity. The older I get, the more my sexual eye is searching and scanning for a perfect mate. Don't be afraid to show yourself: you are here to feel, to see, to live and create life.

LOVE GUN

Love gun: to nurture, to kill it! This sculpture of wax and white plaster, covered with microscopic glass particles, radiates when a light is shed on it. I wanted to make something beautiful to forget everything that was both going on around and inside me. When I finished the sculpture, I admired its simple beauty. Then, I saw the shadow of a man holding a gun. I believe it was a message from the universe- a sign that you can't simply run away from your fears, but you have to go through them. People do inhumane things in the name of love and acceptance. The price of idealism is high.

Making art is a form of therapy. Sometimes different

situations in life broke me down, but there was always

comfort in the idea that someday, somebody is going to hear from these works that they are not alone.

To me, life is art and, art is life. 120 98

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Opening Up:

Waitress, and

in Theatre words by MELANIE RODRIGUEZ

Call me dramatic, but Broadway and I indisputably share the world’s strongest human/abstract-concept connection possible. Walking into any theatre is the equivalent of walking into my second home. Literally, my phone automatically connects to the WiFi at the Adrienne Arsht Center in Miami, Florida.

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As a lover of both music and stories, musical theatre has allowed me to envelop myself in some of the most creative, insightful plotlines, blending singing, dancing, and acting into the perfect mix. As a child, I was amazed by the elaborate scenery, perfectly choreographed routines, and the performers’ soaring vocal abilities. While these aspects of live theatre still astound me today, I am far more invested in the stories that these works present, especially when I see my story and those of other women reflected in them.

Sugar. Flour. B–roadway? Whenever I’m asked what I’m listening to at the moment, the answer is usually something from a musical soundtrack, or a Broadway performer’s original material (I mean have you HEARD Ben Platt’s debut album?), but I still listen to and love all kinds of music. One of my favorite artists is singer-songwriter Sara Bareilles. When news got around that she was composing music for a new Broadway musical, it was as if it would be made for me. What is now known as the Tony-nominated musical Waitress, based on the film of the same name, follows the story of a young waitress who unexpectedly becomes pregnant with her abusive husband's baby and finds her life turned upside down in the best and most bittersweet ways.

Everything Changes with an All-Female Creative Team What got me most excited for this show was the breaking news that came along with it: Waitress would be the first Broadway musical with an all-female creative team. Waitress features a book by Jessie Nelson, music by Sara Bareilles, direction by Diane Paulus, and choreography by Lorin Latarro. Even the source material– the 2007 film Waitress– was directed by a woman, acclaimed director Adrienne Shelley. In a statement given to The Hollywood Reporter, Paulus expressed, "It’s a historic and long overdue moment for Broadway, and I’m honored to be working alongside such passionate and inspiring women." Sara also commented on the milestone, detailing, “It just happened to be that we were all women working at the top of our field and got paired together and found each other. It was really late in the process when we looked around and were like, 'Oh, this is the first time this has happened in a musical.' It was thrilling to look around at department heads and have them be women. That's unusual, certainly for someone working in the music industry, but that's changing.” The show is heartwarming, hilarious, empowering, and relatable to any audience member. Even though not everyone shares the same exact troubles as Jenna, one can relate to the emotion of feeling brought down and trying to lift yourself back up. Waitress visualizes this feeling. During the show, the audience witnesses Jenna processing her emotions through baking

(see: I Can’t Have an Affair Because It’s Wrong (and I Don’t Want Earl to Kill Me) Pie.) Each pie’s name is a reference to whatever emotions Jenna is feeling at the moment. Whatever it may be, each of us has something similar that we can relate to. So rarely do we realize that our greatest frustrations and worries can be turned into our greatest artworks if we only know how to channel our energy. This sense of raw human emotion is one of the greatest parts of Waitress. Since the show is comprised of an all-female creative team based on a film by a female director, the characters are not meant to be perfect; they are inherently flawed. An all-female creative team allows the opportunity for women to be represented on stage with the intention of growing and learning from their mistakes rather than serving as angelic, self-sacrificing women who exist mostly as beautiful foils to male characters. Waitress allows its characters to just be people instead of objects. When her daughter, Lulu, is born, Jenna sings to her during “Everything Changes,” “an unsung melody is mine for safe-keeping.” That line, I believe, encompasses the show’s overall message. We each have a dream within ourselves that is waiting to be lived out and only we have the power to act upon it. Waitress’ all-female creative team saw a space that needed to be filled and they took it, but the show’s commitment to breaking barriers did not stop at that accomplishment.

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be examples for young book writers, choreographers, music directors, composers, directors, and we get to be examples of another way it can look in the world. It definitely made me look at my hiring practices, and pay attention to things that never bothered me before. Now, when I see a woman singing with an all-male band, which I've done my entire career, you know? Not exclusively, but I love the guys I work with. It just made me think about why aren't there any women on my tours? Why am I the only girl here? Oh, that's a choice I'm making. And I don't have to keep making that choice.”

Unpacking What’s Inside When I finally had the chance to see this show on Broadway in November 2018, I was blown away. After listening to the soundtrack countless times, watching this work that meant so much to me felt surreal. However, what made this experience even more special was that I was able to see it when June Squibb took over the role of Old Joe, the owner of the pie diner, in the genderbent role of Old Josie and Nicolette Robinson was the first woman of color to take over the leading role of Jenna. Waitress serves as an example of “thinking outside the box” when it comes to traditional roles and expectations. Taking risks is what allows both art and society to move forward. While it may seem like genderbending a role is not of great importance, it emphasizes for audience members that gender rules aren’t set in stone. Certain characters can represent anyone and everyone. When the same role can be played by both a man and a woman, gender role lines begin to diminish which is essential to the understanding and acceptance of feminism.

You Matter to Me: Inclusivity in Theatre From my involvement with theatre, I know that community is one of the art form’s most important pillars, and Broadway is one of the most supportive communities around. Even though Waitress is making great progress for Broadway, it is still an exception when it comes to diverse casting. While theatre is generally a community of acceptance and creative expression, it must also adhere to audience expectations in order to be sustainable. 128

This is where theatre oftentimes has to comply with traditional narratives. For example, representation for the LGBTQIA+ community is increasing on Broadway with well-recognized shows such as The Prom, but it has not been met without criticism. When the show performed at the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, many viewers were upset by the “confusing message” that was being promoted for their young children. Even though theatre is such an inclusive community, that inclusivity doesn’t always get reflected on stage. While the community strives to pride itself in its value for diversity, ultimately, the fate of a show lies in the audience’s reception, and as much as I hate saying this as a creative, money defines a show’s success. Although artists, directors, and producers may strive to create super inclusive shows or casting, the ultimate question is: why do audiences react negatively to certain narratives or casting decisions? Is it because there is such a small amount of audience members willing to expose themselves to these stories? Are they not accepting of a cast that doesn’t look exactly how they expect it to look? Or are we as artists and creatives not doing a good enough job of preparing people for what they should expect?

This is not to mention the role marketing plays in an audience’s expectations for a show and their willingness to attend. Waitress is not branded as a “feminist” musical but rather as a story about an ordinary girl baking pies, the importance of friendships, and the road to self-growth. When I was watching the show at the Brooks Atkinson Theatre in NYC, I overheard an older couple behind me speaking about how they had no idea what the show’s message would be, but they were already loving it, with the husband seeming particularly engaged. And mind you, this was only at intermission; they had no idea what was coming for them in Act 2. This slightly ambiguous branding is so important for the success of a show like Waitress because when audiences come in with few preconceptions and expectations, the show is able to reach more people than it might have otherwise.

What Representation Can Do As a young creative, shows like Waitress both inspire me and give me an idea of what young people should strive to create. When asked about her all-female creative team in an interview with Broadway Buzz, Sara tells, “We get to

Waitress, along with creatives like Sara, are changing the way young people experience their beloved industries growing up. Hearing names of musical theatre greats such as Andrew Lloyd Webber and Stephen Sondheim can cause young girls to feel left out of the highest ranks of their industry due to lack of representation. Now, young women are able to look towards shows like Waitress and see that their dreams are reachable and their stories need to be told. Seeing this success reaffirms for young girls that there are audiences eager to listen to these stories in hopes of having someone to relate to. Although there is still a long road ahead for women in theatre, I am certain we have thousands of stories yet to be told. We have to learn that is okay to be vulnerable as storytellers. When we create theatre that is powerful yet relatable, we are succeeding as artists. When we create theatre that leaves the audience with questions, we are succeeding as both artists and activists. Playlist: She Used to be Mine - Waitress What Baking Can Do - Waitress I’m Here - The Color Purple It Won’t Be Long Now - In The Heights Defying Gravity - Wicked So Much Better - Legally Blonde Watch What Happens - Newsies I’d Rather Be Me - Mean Girls Beautiful - Beautiful Don’t Rain On My Parade - Funny Girl Breathe - In The Heights The Schuyler Sisters - Hamilton Ring of Keys - Fun Home

What Is and What Never Should Be On Comfort and Led Zeppelin words by Kendall Rotar

When crisis knocks on our door, we cling to what we know. There’s a certainty there, a comfort that we return to in times of hardship in lieu of facing the impending doom we might feel. That’s a funny word-- comfort. We don’t think of comfort as a bad thing. We’ve given “comfort” one of the sweetest connotations of any word in the English language, laced it up with warm cups of tea, sprinkled its edges with cloud-like mattresses and polar-bear soft blankets, drenched it with forehead kisses and long hugs from your mother. But, as time comes to show, the contrary will always prevail. At the end of our days we will come to realize that the moments when we were most uncomfortable were the moments when we felt most alive. As a kid, I was terrified of anything other than complacency. I loved the consistency of it. I thought that staying in my own bubble lead to a happy life. Then, the inevitable occured. I met a girl in fourth grade who would soon fill the place in my 130

heart meant for a best friend. Her name is Julia. Now, the significance of this person in my life is beyond words. From boys, to my first period, to jumping off the top of a stranger’s dock, Julia formed my likes and dislikes, my taste in music, fashion, books–anything that would stimulate my mind. This weird, eclectic girl changed my life in the best way. Truthfully, the only place I’ve ever found some sort of analogy for her is in music. Particularly, rock and roll. When I think of my youth spent with her by my side, I feel this warm, devotional nostalgia cast over me. Then a beat drops in my head and I close my eyes to see our preteen, awkward bodies sprawled out on my bedroom floor, flicking through YouTube listening to a band called Led Zeppelin. Led Zeppelin was the soundtrack to my teenage years, always blasting through the speakers of our hand-me-down cars as we drove through the most conservative parts of Orlando, looking to

stir up trouble. I remember being in the passen- posed to happen but become embedded in our ger's seat of her car driving down scenic Park Av- reality, parts of us that reveal both our values and enue, laughing as old women sneered at our less- weaknesses, our darkness at war with the light we than-posh tunes filling the street. At first, these want to give. Plant paints a beautiful picture with sneers would terrify me. I would say something like, both lyrics and melody, one that seems so dreamy “Jules, turn it down!” to which she would always re- and extraterrestrial that it creates a contrast with ply, “Why?” Fair, I would think, as I rested back into the calamity he’s experiencing. my seat, “You’re right.” In these small moments, I The band created a psychedelic atmosbegan to change. I started to question why we phere interweaved with human weakness. The even told people to turn their music down in the contrasting melodies are stark in true Led Zepfirst place, then it would jump to more serious mat- pelin fashion, but the song’s lyrics contradict ters like religion or romance or traveling the world. themselves to prove a point. They show that even My worldview expanded because I stepped away though he is a rock icon, he is still subject to the from the comfort I once adored. I had the world at internal conflict we all feel. Beginning lines that my feet. speak of faraway castles that house his dreams Julia, more than anyone, taught me that are strung together by a subtle, whimsical backthere is a fine line between comfort and adven- beat, which is then eradicated when he puts out ture, and the world will encourage you to choose the should-do, driving rock chorus. Arguably, Led the former. It keeps us in the confines of society, Zeppelin communicates the absurdity of a moral it stifles our educational endeavors, it forces us compass directed by our desires into a swift chointo who they want us to be instead of helping us rus by saying: become who we need to be. The problem here is From a young age, we are shown a linear that we drop this adventurous mentality when we model of life. One thing will lead to the next and we get older. We are poked and prodded, pushed and shoved Catch the wind, see us spin/ Sail away until we are sent sprinting back leave today/ Way up high in the sky, to the things that make us feel hey, whoa/ But the wind won't blow/ safe, until we nestle in those places so deeply we can’t even You really shouldn't go/ It only goes to show/ That you imagine running back into an will be mine/ By takin' unknown forest of possibility. There’s a song by Led our time, ooh Zeppelin about this on their sophomore album Led Zeppelin II. “What Is And will continue down the same path set by others for What Never Should Be” was written about Robert us. We are never told that the world could make us Plant’s love affair with his wife’s younger sister, but, hard, that we could get so beaten and so bruised to me, it’s about much more than adultery. The by the events in our lives that we lose our sense beauty in Led Zeppelin’s music is its ability to tran- of wonder. Even with Julia as my backbone, I still scend circumstances. I’ve carried a number of this yearn for an easier life, one with a devoted spouse band’s songs with me on journeys they probably and steady routine, one with the same roof over never went through. Now, my admiration for this my head and the same recipes for dinner every song stems out of the same part of me that strug- night. But the idea of complacency terrifies me as gles with comfort. Plant’s intentions in the lyrics adulthood approaches. It feels like a box we were show a certain humanity that we rarely admit to. never meant to fit into, but we squeeze ourselves It is an expression of the moments that aren’t sup- into the box anyway. Instead of calling it conform 131

ity, we call it comfort as an excuse for our fear of the world and even of our wants and desires. We become reliant on the comfort, but some brave few choose to step out. In Plant’s own way, “What Is And What Never Should Be” is his step outside of the comfort zone. He disregarded prudence, highlighted his honesty and candidness, and left himself naked to the world. Fear cowers to this kind of strength. He seems more invincible on this track than any other he’s made before. Plant is asking us to look at our own lives for the truth we hide away. We’ve emphasized rationality so much that we’ve ignored our gut instincts, forgot the younger versions of ourselves bopping effortlessly around a dance floor. I wrote this article in hopes that my children will see it when they come to the stage of their lives that I am experiencing right now. It is easy to become comfortable in our corners of the world, but it would be naive to do so. We create

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mental distance between our intuition and the choices we’ve made in hopes of avoiding heartbreak or disapproval. To reverse this, we must take the same step Plant took by being honest with ourselves, and we must encourage those we love to do the same. Taking a step like Plant’s may be off-putting because of the subject of the song, but it is the beginning of showing our humanity. The same humanity we have run away from by sitting idly in the consumptive cycle of social media apps and working 9 to 5 cubicle jobs. Admitting our own faults connects us to others in a deeper way and opens up a path for mutual vulnerability. My advice to my children may change with age, but as a twenty-one year old I stand by my hippie-esque free spirited argument. So, to my future children who can’t quite fall asleep in that cozy box: stay uncomfortable, stay curious, love your friends endlessly and fearlessly. Tell the ugly, painful truth, and, please, listen to lots of Led Zeppelin.

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