ARTS

PRISCILLA KIM Daily Arts Writer

After a successful four-show run, the cast and crew of MUSKET wrapped up their production of the Broadway hit “Funny Girl” last Sunday at the Power Center. Audiences watched leading lady Fanny Brice, played by Music, Theatre & Dance sophomore Carly Meyer, go from a determined dreamer to a star whose attention every character longs for. Inspired by the real life of Fanny Brice, the musical follows the actress’s rise to fame and the effects fame had on her life off the stage.

The show began with quite the entrance from Fanny. Walking from behind the audience, she made her way through the aisles to take her place at center stage. Shortly after, the first of many exclamations Fanny would make was a memorable one: “I’m a bagel on a plate full of onion rolls!”

She admitted that she’s not like others, but used this fact to advocate for herself, reminding the audience that what’s more important than surface appearance is self-advocacy. As she declared herself “The Greatest Star” in one of the musical’s most iconic numbers, other characters began to acknowledge her stardom as well.

While Fanny achieved fame, she was quickly consumed by it, and those close to her worried about its effects. When Fanny entered a long and complicated relationship with the charismatic socialite and swindler Nicky Arnstein, played by LSA sophomore Sohil Apte, the two sang a series of songs that depicted their struggle to find their identities apart from each other. By the end, Fanny found clarity back on the stage, with a triumphant reprise of the iconic tune “Don’t Rain on My Parade.”

Storyline aside, serving as the base for the musical’s progression was the 21-piece orchestra led by Andrew Gerace — the Music Director and LSA and Music, Theatre & Dance senior — seen swaying along to the music as he conducted. One of the musical’s most exuberant moments was the number “Cornet Man,” with trumpeter Ryan Venora, a Music, Theatre & Dance junior, onstage interacting with Fanny. Blasting like a big band, the pit orchestra showcased full energy as Fanny imitated the trumpet sounds above.

Another show highlight came about midway through the first act with the number “His Love Makes Me Beautiful” — a scene that brought in stunning solos by Meyer and Music, Theatre & Dance sophomore Alexandra Humphreys. When Meyer struggled comically up a set of stairs — a possible nod to the stairs in the 1968 film with Barbra Streisand — as a pregnant bride, her interactions with an appalled Humphreys were priceless.

As the bridal scene came to an end, figures in black swiftly wheeled the stairs offstage, bringing in simple panels to transition into Fanny’s dressing room. These stagehands were a reminder of yet another team driving the production forward. The mechanism of actors onstage, musicians in the pit and stagehands worked like clockwork on the Power Center stage. With only a two-and-a-half-hour running time and a relentlessly moving orchestra below the stage, MUSKET’s production staff, completely studentrun, made a lasting impression, allowing the cast to shine.

“Funny Girl” marked MUSKET’s much-anticipated return to the Power Center since halting live shows in March of last year. While the theatre group had kept itself busy at the height of the pandemic with well-produced virtual stagings of “Bright Star” and “Newsies,” viewers last weekend laid witness to a full range of expression from an unmasked, in-person cast, with ample distance between stage and audience.

In the words of MUSKET’s Music, Theatre & Dance senior Jonas McMullen, whose Director’s Note graces the playbill: “We are reminded why we love to gather in the theatre, when we could not for so long.” After all the time that has passed, the celebratory nature of MUSKET’s return seemed to make their year-long hiatus well worth the wait.

BECCA MAHON/Daily

One Sunday morning at the Pioneer Woods

CECILIA DURAN Daily Arts Writer

I bet you can think of a song from which you can never detach a specific memory. The kind where, every time it comes on, the place you’re currently in blurs, and you’re suddenly in another space, in another time. For me, books have the capacity to bottle up feelings. “Bloom” by The Paper Kites will forever remind me of the novel “The Light Between Oceans,” and “Jolene” by Ray LaMontagne is the faint sound that accompanies any flashback I get to the novel “A Little Life.”

The greatest memory-keepers, however, are walks. More specifically, what I like to call ‘thought walks,’ the ones you take when thoughts become so loud that you feel like you need to drown them out with a tune that is ten decibels too loud. As much of a coping mechanism as it is, music can also be a catalyst, an absinthe that makes a specific moment in time become ingrained in your memory forever.

Let me tell you about my favorite place in Ann Arbor for those “thought walks”: the Pioneer Woods. It wasn’t until late in my time in Ann Arbor that I found it, and I’m bitter I didn’t find it earlier. You probably wouldn’t believe me if I told you the closest road to it was W. Stadium Boulevard (in my opinion, the noisiest and least appealing road in Ann Arbor).

It is the place where industrial life mingles with nature. There are various entrances to the woods, so many that I am pretty sure I have yet to discover new ones. Typically, I make my way toward the small, almost rabbit-hole paths off the side of W. Stadium Boulevard. Like entering Narnia, you go from being surrounded by street signs to tall trees that drown out the hum of city life. The woods are not big — it takes less than ten minutes to cross through them — but it’s a magical place where oaks, white pines and shagbark hickories engulf you, the leaves below your feet crunching with every step you take.

At the end of the woods, an arched tunnel created by bent branches leads you into a vast open space called the Greenview Nature Area. In the fall season, the meadow grows untamed, and in the spring, the weeds turn into colorful wildflowers that become the home of 55 different kinds of butterflies. A few

yards away is a little pond, seemingly so forgotten and untouched that you could imagine the water has been the same since the beginning of time.

The first day I set foot in this place was probably one of the most cathartic days of my life. I experienced nature as one experiences the first snowfall or the first dip in the ocean after a cold winter. It felt pure, so much so that I felt like I was trespassing. Yet at the same time, I

was welcomed, embraced by the tall weeds, calmed down by the sound they made as the wind brushed them from side to side.

I sat down on one of the three logs at the top of the meadows, and here is where catharsis occurred. “One Sunday Morning (Song for Jane Smiley’s Boyfriend)” by Wilco started playing, and suddenly, breathing felt like a harder task than it usually is. I am not a crier, I never have been, but in that moment, a tear rushed down my cheek. They weren’t tears of joy, but they weren’t tears of sadness, either. I think it was my body’s way of telling me it was at peace.

“Outside I looked lived in” was whispered in my ear as I took everything in. Those twelve melodic minutes glued every detail in the scenery to the twists and turns of the phrases, the piano motifs and the painfully honest lyrics. I had felt like this before, but it’s not often that a song and a landscape leave you gasping for air. I don’t mean to sound melodramatic, exaggerated or even absurd, but I really mean it. A song, “One Sunday Morning,” and a landscape, the Pioneer Woods, had caused a perfect chemical reaction — liberation pickled with sadness. Not out of grief, but by the mere fact that I couldn’t live in that moment forever.

I knew I could still go back to the Pioneer Woods whenever, but it just wouldn’t be the same. Life isn’t static. It’s ever-changing, and I am a different person every time I go back — even if only two days go by between visits. But for twelve minutes, despite what I may be going through, despite the weather or the season or the reason for my escape, the warm tenderness that I bottled up one afternoon in May becomes present. I cannot come to these woods and not listen to “One Sunday Morning.” I make it a ceremony, actually, a ritual to see how this song morphs as I myself morph — reading between the lines and seeing details of the landscape I hadn’t seen before. It’s all part of a continuous narrative, one which parts me from the acceptance that that tenderness will never be as strong as the first day I encountered this safe haven.

Songs being memory boxes is a universal phenomenon, I think, or at least I hope it is. So I reveal my secret, my little treasure — it would be selfish not to. I think everyone should know this feeling of release through alignment. So go out to the Pioneer Woods and allow yourself to feel, whatever that means.

The Wilco prayer said it first: “Something sad keeps moving, so I wandered around. I fell in love with the burden, holding me down.”

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lsa.umich.edu/MichInWash The cultural impact of Noodle the Pug

HANNAH CARAPELLOTTI Daily Arts Writer

“Good morning, everyone, and welcome back to yet another round of Bones or No Bones: the game where we find out if my 13-year-old pug woke up with bones, and, as a result, we’ll find out what kind of day we’re going to have.”

This is how Jonathan Graziano opens almost every one of his TikTok videos featuring his adorable pug, Noodle. For over a year now, Graziano has made jokes about Noodle having “no bones,” flopping back down on his bed every time he has to get up to go for a walk or use the bathroom. In the last couple of months, Graziano has begun posting daily “readings,” in which Noodle’s having bones (or lack thereof) determines how our day will go as well. “It’s kind of like reading tea leaves,” he says in one video. A “bones day” is a sign of good luck, and we’re supposed to treat ourselves and go after the things we want. A “no bones day” is not necessarily a bad thing, though. Graziano recommends we use the day for self-care, and just take it easy. For those of us lucky enough to have these little videos cross our “For You” pages, Noodle has quickly grown into a cultural phenomenon. Graziano currently has 4.5 million followers on TikTok, and #Bones and #NoBones have hundreds of millions of views as well. Creators are writing songs about Noodle, designing “bones day” animations and 3D-printing wallet-sized displays to help keep track of each day’s reading. Noodle’s fame is not limited to TikTok, as he and Graziano have made appearances on several talk shows and most notably, Noodle was canceled by Rolling Stone. There’s merchandise available just about everywhere, and teachers are even incorporating the lingo into their classrooms. I’ve heard stories of students in class crowding around someone’s phone to watch the daily reading once it’s been posted.

So why does it concern me to see some people taking these forecasts a little too seriously?

Sometimes the videos under the Bones/No Bones hashtags are clearly just meant to be funny, but other creators seem to be basing their day on whether an old dog stands up or not.

This isn’t the first time that the general public has taken the “advice” of an animal. We have an entire holiday built around it. Instead of controlling the weather, Noodle controls people’s moods and energy, like a version of spoon theory for Gen Z. Why do we feel like we need an excuse to have a good day, or to take it easy?

If I had to guess, I’d say this is one of the ways we’re coping post-pandemic. Most of us are back in person now, whether it’s for school or for work. Having spent the last year and a half adjusting to

isolation, I’ve found it’s an equally big adjustment to leave. Being expected to return to our normal workload is exhausting, and some of us still need a break but don’t feel like we’re allowed to take it. Noodle is our current solution to this problem, providing us with either the justification for taking that break or motivation to keep going. As one creator put it, “The entire world is revolving around Noodle right now, and we are okay with that because he came to us in a time of need.” There’s no telling how much longer

Noodle’s fame will last, but for now, he’s helping us feel better — and looking cute while doing it.

Design by Maggie Weibe

Ann Arbor’s Yik Yak scene

MARY ELIZABETH JOHNSON Daily Arts Writer

I can’t in good faith say that I’m a Swiftie. I’m a Swiftie in the sense that we all are Swifties — because you can’t avoid her. Her music has defined a generation, whether you like it or not. Even if I don’t buy tickets to Taylor’s shows, it’s still a Swift-dominated world, and I still reap the benefits of breakup songs. Everybody loves her femcel anthem, and I literally go crazy any time any of her singles play at a party. Part of the reason people joke about her being a crazy girlfriend with a self-described long list of ex-lovers is that she’s so lovable that we wish we could hate her, like our ex-boyfriend’s newest lover. She, like her Cool Girl contemporaries Jennifer Lawrence and Anne Hathaway (who supposedly has her own connection to “All Too Well (10 Minute Version) (Taylor’s Version) (From the Vault)”), is just a beautiful, talented woman who seems a little too good to be true, and we tend to be distrustful of that. Maybe my lowered expectation of her is why I actually kind of love this short film.

If you haven’t heard yet, Taylor Swift and Jake Gyllenhaal (“Nightcrawler”) dated for three months when she was 20 and he was 29. While nine years might not be as egregious as the infamous age gaps in Bradley Cooper and Leonardo Dicaprio’s relationships, there was a massive gap in experience. She had only just released her first album a few years before, and Gyllenhaal been in the public eye since he was a child. Looking back at those paparazzi shots of the two of them, you can’t help but see how different Swift looks.

The greatest directorial choice Swift made for “All Too Well: The Short Film” was in her casting. Dylan O’Brien (“Teen Wolf”) plays Him and Sadie Sink (“Stranger Things”) plays Her; the actors are the roughly same ages that Gyllenhaal and Swift were when they were together. I can’t say definitively if nine years is too much of an age difference if both parties are consenting adults, but when I first saw O’Brien and Sink lock lips, it was a bit jarring. I couldn’t help the queasy feeling in my stomach. I’m sure Swift knew what she was doing when she chose Sink; her role as a child actor is still fresh in the world’s mind, and we can’t help but feel that she’s still too young, that she’s still 13 in our minds. It makes me think that this is how Swift must have felt during this relationship: frozen in time, feeling like a little girl trying desperately to grow up.

The highlight of the short film is the acting. It has been way too long since O’Brien has had the chance to do dramatic acting on such a large stage. Swift said that much of the “electric” dialogue in one particular scene was improvised, giving a really natural feel to the atmosphere. O’Brien puts dirty dishes away and half-laughs as Sink explains her hurt feelings, calling her selfish only to backtrack by saying, “You’re acting selfish.” He repeats a half-hearted, weightless apology like in an early 2000s rom-com where men never know what they’re apologizing for but want to get out of the doghouse.

Worse still, O’Brien’s performance is still so romantic and charming. If it were me, I could never convince myself that he was anything else but a handsome guy who makes me laugh. I’m tempted to believe him a bit when he says he didn’t mean to brush off his girlfriend’s hand at dinner, that he really was just having fun with his friends and maybe she is making it

Design by Michelle Kim

about herself. But, just as magnetic as he is, this nameless man turns on a dime and slams a car door in his girlfriend’s face, throwing the keys at her. A Twitter user writes, “Jake Gyllenhaal having a ‘fuck the patriarchy’ keychain while dating women 10 years younger than him does track.” Men always seem to find a reason to make us hate them, don’t they?

Read more at MichiganDaily.com

LAINE BROTHERTON Daily Arts Writer

Anonymity is the internet’s most sacred asset. The freedom to say anything, to ignore the draconian social rules of everyday life, is what made the anonymous messaging application Yik Yak popular after its initial launch in 2013. The app shut down in 2017 after cyberbullying concerns, but in August of this year, Yik Yak re-appeared in app stores. This Yik Yak is a buggy yet functional reincarnation of its previous self — the app centers around “yaks,” text posts with a 200-character limit shown to anyone within a five-mile radius. Users can upvote or downvote posts, and enough upvotes can earn yaks a spot on the “Local Top Yaks”; yaks that receive more than five downvotes are hidden from the feed. Each poster is nameless; the only way to tell users apart is from their representative emoji randomly chosen by the app — this can be changed at any time.

Whether it’s from the nostalgia of the 2010s, the excitement of returning to campus after a year and a half or the innate desire to connect with people, the Ann Arbor Yik Yak bubble has been populated with hundreds, possibly thousands, of University of Michigan students. From South Quad to the UGLi to North Campus to the Blue Leprechaun, Ann Arbor’s pandemic-weary student body

Design by Jessica Chiu has yikked every yak, putting every fleeting thought on blast no matter how obscene. It’s unclear exactly how many people actively use Yik Yak, but the archive of “Local Top Yaks” gives an idea — the most popular yak in the area exceeds 450 upvotes, which doesn’t account for the additional downvotes the post may have received or the users who simply didn’t interact.

Over the last several weeks, I’ve happily shoved aside impending midterms and assignments to pursue the more stimulating task of researching the University’s Yik Yak scene. At first, I tried to reach out to the Yik Yak community and ask them what they would like to say to The Daily. The responses included, but were not limited to: “Don’t go to class, eat ass,” “Fuck MSU,” “No one in the daily knows how big my dick is” and “balls.” With this, I determined that the best move forward would be to leave the yakkers up to their own devices and simply observe. So, I did — from morning to evening, I took in every new yak, scrolling with abandon during any and all spare moments. With a paralyzing amount of confessionals, complaints, jokes and drunken rambles, I was able to interpret Yik Yak as a microcosm of local youth culture.

Yik Yak is a place for speaking your mind — evidently, the minds of U-M students are fraught with dysfunctional group projects, midterms, Math 116 assignments on “WeBWorK” and the hassle of finding an unoccupied study space in any campus building. On a fundamental level, all students can relate to personal experiences with stress and exhaustion. After all, suffering is easier when it’s shared.

When the dining halls are open, you might see complaints about the long lines at South Quad or the quality of the food from that day. One user posts detailed dining hall reviews, ranking their experience with the culinary competence of Gordon Ramsay. Other notable yak topics include the resounding shrieks of 6 a.m. Amtrak trains, midnight fire alarms at the residence halls, offensive B.O. on the BursleyBaits Loop and scathing fraternity slander.

The lighthearted innocence of Yik Yak stops there. Sometimes, actually most of the time, yaks lean towards the cruder side — on a mid-October evening, an influx of yaks revolved around an alleged poop-related incident in the Stockwell showers. With 62 upvotes, the sentiments of many residents were memorialized in the following yak, “Trying to go to sleep but I cannot knowing the stockwell shitter walks free.” As much as there was disgust, the jokes ran rampant too: one yak reads, “Just went to take a shit in Stockwell and there was a shower in the way??!” and another “McCarthyism, but it’s the poop in the shower.”

On the other end of the “out-of-pocket” spectrum, hormones rage with reckless abandon. After the sun goes down, roughly one out of every three yaks is a cry for help, an S.O.S. from the throes of loneliness. I couldn’t forget them if I tried: “I’m so down bad I might just try finding love with the next snapchat sex bot that adds me” and “what are boobs? I’m a visual learner btw” are the tamest of the tame. The efforts of Yik Yak’s community guardrails are of no avail of even the most vulgar expressions of biological needs.

The “Leaders and Best” of Ann Arbor share a propensity for all things toilet-related, whether it’s debates of the best bathroom on campus or anecdotes of traumatizing experiences — I wouldn’t address the fixation on potty humor if it wasn’t for its alarming frequency.

Read more at MichiganDaily.com

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Release Date: Wednesday, December 1, 2021 Release Date: Wednesday, November 24, 2021

Los Angeles Times Daily Crossword Puzzle Edited by Rich Norris and Joyce Nichols Lewis

ACROSS

1 Surpasses 21, in blackjack 6 Top-level performance 11 NBA legend, familiarly 14 Company that’s proud of its quacks? 15 Chopper topper 16 Like the top half of Monaco’s flag 17 Craven endeavor 19 In the style of 20 Solar panel spot ANSWER TO PREVIOUS PUZZLE: 21 Blockhead 22 Like energyefficient buildings, e.g. 29 Together, in music 30 Acid found in olive oil 31 34-Across has one of them 34 Historic ship 35 QB’s try 38 Territorial complex dissolved during the Napoleonic

Wars 41 Senator Klobuchar 42 Orator’s art: Abbr. 12/01/21 43 WWI president 44 Dough 45 Resistance units 46 Acclaimed 2016 Broadway soundtrack, with

“The” 52 “By Jove!” 53 Ticket datum 54 __-country 55 Final leg ... and a hint to each set of circles 62 Cartoonist Chast 63 Precipice 64 Like an egg 65 Table for __ 66 Passing words? 67 Tranquilizing brand

DOWN

1 “Harrumph!” 2 Eerie sky sight 3 Canon letters 4 Pitch 5 Org. whose income taxes are passed through to shareholders By Joe Deeney ©2021 Tribune Content Agency, LLC 12/01/21

6 Tanks and such 7 Digress 8 Dune buggy, briefly 9 L’état, à Louis

XIV 10 Bard’s before 11 Outlined, maybe 12 Museum piece 13 Website for

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Northwest airport 22 Yoga term meaning “force” 23 “Under the weather,” say 24 Water-formed ditch 25 Actress Lamarr 26 Director of many

“This Is Us” episodes 27 What people who need People might do? 28 Coconut Grove city 32 Swashbuckling

Flynn 33 Très chic 35 Tyler of “Archer” 36 Tread heavily 37 Future, e.g. 39 Ten-time NBA

All-Star Anthony, to fans 40 Story arc 44 Prefix with day 46 Symbol of affection 47 Lit up 48 Passover staple 49 Hides 50 Wednesday kin 51 Copy, in a way

Los Angeles Times Daily Crossword Puzzle Edited by Rich Norris and Joyce Nichols Lewis

ACROSS 55 “Industry” 1 Little __ Muffet network5 Roger Bannister, 56 Celestial famously sphere10 Speaker in 57 Customizable

Cooperstown Nintendo 14 Elvis or Coca- avatar

Cola 58 Green of 15 “The L Word” “Casino Royale”co-creator 59 Shade on the

Chaiken beach 16 Whisper 60 Windy City 17 Interstate hauler train letters 18 Ad prizes 61 Curse 19 Dramatic opener 20 Adagio and ANSWER TO PREVIOUS PUZZLE: allegro 22 Leave the city to evade arrest 24 Like some tanks 27 Where the old woman lived 28 Permits to enter 30 Title of respect 31 Exec, slangily 33 Schoolmarmish 35 List to-dos 39 Intense anger 40 It has just one 64-Down 42 Shapiro of NPR 43 Delivery, as of a baby 45 Inter __ 46 Recipe word 11/24/21 47 Relieved (of) 49 Comes to light 51 Secret fraternity member 55 Party or wild follower 57 Bit of encouragement 59 Vinyl-covered, as a floor 61 Worldwide: Abbr. 62 Absinthe flavor 65 Half a round on the links 66 Ohio’s lake 67 R&B family name 68 Budget sister company 69 Runs out of juice 70 “It’s true!” 71 Guido of Baroque art fame

DOWN

1 Light fog 2 Relatives of

Slurpees 3 Server with a blush? By Dave Taber and Laura Moll (c)2021 Tribune Content Agency, LLC 11/24/21

4 Piece of prose 5 A hot one can be problematic 6 Laid up 7 Island necklaces 8 Long, thin soup mushroom 9 Viscous plant substances 10 “Bingo!” 11 Japanese electronics company 12 Cut down the middle 13 “Goosebumps” series author 21 Gomez’s furry cousin 23 French capital 25 Road trip game 26 Approximately 29 Nabisco brand name 31 Jem, to Scout

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Beatles 40 The good dishes 41 Discomfort cause 44 Makes four into twelve, say 46 Advanced course offering 48 Hold for questions 50 Take care of a kitty 51 Went down a slippery slope 52 Matisse of the art world 53 Knot again 54 Old-time laundry soap brand 56 Red Square figure 58 Place for singles 60 He loved Lucille 63 Cinque e uno 64 Watcher ... and homophone of a letter that appears exactly once in every clue and all but two answers

WHISPER WHISPER

“Did you hear?” “Yeah. Go Blue. First time in 10 years!”

‘Always Jane’ falls short of its potential

MOLLY HIRSCH Daily Arts Writer

Reality television has monopolized the TV screen for years. From “Keeping Up with the Kardashians” to “The Bachelor,” audiences around the world are immersed in the overwhelmingly ridiculous lives of celebrities or those who want to be celebrities. Nevertheless, the genre is expanding to encompass people of different backgrounds, with different stories. This includes Amazon Prime’s new docuseries “Always Jane.”

This four-part series focuses on Jane Noury, a transgender teenager, and the Noury family throughout her transitioning period. The audience is given a glimpse into their world at a time that precedes much change: Jane prepares for college, awaits her gender-affirming surgery and takes a chance on modeling. Fortunately for her, she is supported by her parents, two sisters and grandfather throughout it all.

While “Always Jane” takes on a sensitive and highly relevant topic, the first episode falls short of its potential. Undoubtedly, the show is engaging and the audience can’t help but fall in love with the Nourys: They are the quintessential boisterous and overprotective family. In fact, throughout the pilot, Jane reiterates how grateful she is for her parents and their unwavering love during what is an extremely pivotal time in her life.

And so, as we watch the show, we can’t help but feel relief and pure happiness for Jane, who is a lively, passionate and silly teenage girl. However, while the series aims to present the difficulties that a trans teen like Jane faces in the political and social climate of today’s world, it doesn’t entirely live up to this goal.

The way the story is presented is too simplified and superficial. Through videos Jane takes of herself and clips of her day-to-day life, the only thing the show reveals is how strong she is as an individual and how understanding her family has been throughout her transition. However, it doesn’t touch on the fact that a support system and the acceptance of friends and family is not a luxury that every person in the LGBTQ+ community is lucky enough to have.

So while Jane discusses her past issues of bullying and self-acceptance, the series only barely scratches the surface of what is a much larger issue. And inevitably, this undermines the main intention of the show: to address the larger struggles transgender people endure on a daily basis.

“Always Jane” doesn’t necessarily devalue Jane’s journey and the many obstacles that came with her decision to transition. Yet, it doesn’t dive into those obstacles nearly as much as it otherwise could have. Simply put, the tribulations Jane has experienced and will continue to experience as a trans woman are only briefly mentioned but not further developed within the episode. For instance, her mother Laura explains that there was a process the family had to go through in order for Jane to play on the girls’ soccer team at school; however, nothing else like this is addressed. The audience isn’t explicitly told what that process was like, how long it took or how it affected Jane personally. Instead, it is mentioned and never talked about again.

So, while “Always Jane” attempts to show viewers the implications of being a young trans person in the 21st century, it does so in a very surface-level way. Rather than being privy to the adversity Jane faces, we are just onlookers into the life of a teenager as she gets into college, hangs out with her friends and spends time with her family.