The Bull Magazine Fall 2011/Winter 2012

THE BULL

Pierce College’s Student-Run Magazine

Supplement to The Roundup

Fall/Winter 2011

Lost Boy: Life after gangs and coping with the past

Occupy LA: Does LA really know why we are rallying?

Paranormal Housewives: Professor turned Ghost Hunter

Tied & Bound: This Southern Bell breaks all the rules

Editor

The process of awakening is characterized by coming to a new awareness about yourself or the world around you. This new consciousness can lead to a change in behavior, a new lifestyle or a transformation of your view of the world. Often people find themselves waking up in the middle of their lives after being jolted into reality and it’s not always pretty.

My personal awakening came in the form of drug rehab at 17-yearsold on the heels of high school graduation. This led me to a life of service in the community and self-awareness through the process of recovery from addiction.

There are many people in the world today who are becoming aware of their surroundings for the first time. Whether it is seeing the struggles of communities suffering from natural disasters, a personal comeback from a challenging life circumstance or the reality of our economy in the recession.

An awakening can take on a multitude of forms including music, art and education. In this issue of The Bull, we have the opportunity to share individual stories and shed light on the efforts of recovery and restoration in our society today.

In the story of Neil Gutierrez you’ll meet a former gang member who turned his life around with some help from the Los Angeles based organization Homeboy Industries that assists at-risk, recently released, and formerly gang

involved youth.

A passion for bowties turned into a project to benefit transgender individuals seeking “top surgery” in Alex Koontz story.

Eileen Guliasi returned to school to pursue her vocal dreams through the ENCORE program at Pierce College.

Expression and self-realization comes in the form of art for San Fernando Valley native, RAH.

However, different people use different methods to express themselves. For Nikki Nefarious, Japanese bondage is a source of enlightenment as well as an expressive act.

Sometimes, the moment someone hears death knocking on their door is when they might run the other way, but Robert Hernandez stood his ground in the name of his gang. This led to a coma and lifetime in a wheelchair.

While some run from death, Kirsten Thorne and the Paranormal Housewives pursue ghosts and the answers to what may come after death.

Whether you are coming to a personal revelation or discovering the harsh truths of the world, awakening is a delicate process. I hope that you enjoy the eclectic group of stories in this issue of The Bull magazine.

Portia Medina

pmedina.thebull@gmail.com

Editor-in-Chief

Portia Medina

Managing Editor

Arnavaz ‘Rosie’ Fatemi

Photo Editor

Amber-Rose Kelly Writers

Xavier Hamlin

Tracy Hernandez

Jacqueline Kalisch

Sage Lynn

Lorrie Reyes

Photographers

Erin M. Stone

Jose Romero

Ava Weintraub

Lorrie Reyes

Jacqueline Kalisch

Gabriela Gomez

Advisers

Jill Connelly

Jeff Favre

Illustrator

Maria Salvador

Special Thanks

Amara Aguilar

Stefanie Frith

James Hermon

Michaia Hernandez

Carlos Islas

Kat Mabry

Anibal Ortiz

Coburn Palmer

CONTENTS

Occupy L.A.:

One journalist’s perspective on the recent “occupants” of Los Angeles who feel they have been ignored by their government.

6. From Lost Boy to Homeboy:

Neil Gutierrez shares his journey from gang member to productive member of society with the help of Homeboy Industries.

10. Buy a Bowtie, Take a Top Off

:

Alex’s love of bowties turned into a meaningful fundraiser for himself and others in the transgender community to obtain top surgery.

14. Seasoned Songbird:

Eileen went from full-time wife and mother to full-time Volunteer Coordinator for the Pierce College ENCORE Program.

Broadway at Dawn:

A forgotten street is still full of life, no matter what the hour..

Ancestors Come Alive:

RAH found the path to his Aztec roots along with a desire to strengthen the San Fernando Valley through his art.

22.

Remain Awake:

An abstract look at mortality through the photo story-telling of Erin M. Stone and poetry by Cyrus Moghadassi and Erin M. Stone.

25.

Tied & Bound

in Los Angeles: Lights, camera, hog-tie! Nikki Nefarious discovered her passion as a rope artist at an early age and never looked back.

28. Dying to Live:

Following a gang-related drive-by shooting and two days spent in a coma, Robert Hernandez refuses to change his ways.

So Who You Gonna Call? Pierce College!:

Kirsten Thorne, associate professor of Spanish at Pierce College, and her crew of Paranormal Housewives are hunting local apparitions.

Beaten, Broken, or Bril L i A nt?

Story by: Arnavaz ‘Rosie’ Fatemi

Photos by: Erin M. Stone

(top)PATROL- Two Los Angeles Police Department officers,who wished to be nameless,patrol the Occupy camp at City Hall the first day of the protest. (opposite page) OCCUPANT - Kayla,23,an art student at College of the Canyons showcases her artistic style on her protest sign at Occupy L.A.

D

ear Occupants of Los Angeles, It’s me, one of the 99%ers. I’ve seen you around town. I’ve had some conversations with people who claim to represent the movement. However, I still am full of questions and concern.

Now, let’s discuss the start of this. I mean, we should start from the beginning, right? From what I’ve gathered, you Angelinos were inspired by the New Yorkers, right?

Occupy Wall Street (OWS) began on September 17, 2011 in Manhattan’s Financial District. I understand the location of OWS. It makes sense. This was a people-powered movement to let the nation know that the people of the United States are demanding the separation of “State” and “Corporation.”

The original occupants were enraged at the thought that their tax dollars went to bail out banks that steal from their customers.

At this point, I agree with the movement. I agree that government officials should not be paid after they have done their duty in office. I agree that those people who work in Congress should get the same health care that is offered to every other American. I agree that major corporations should not fund political campaigns or parties.

In other words, I agree that the Americans who represent us should be like the average American, the 99%ers.

I agreed. So I closed my own bank account, which has been an incredible inconvenience.

So, I did what anyone who agreed with OWS did. I went to Occupy Los Angeles (OLA) to see what it was about.

At first, it was overwhelming. I truly thought I was watching the beginning of the change we were promised four years ago.

Quickly, that overwhelming feeling turned into confusion.

I had watched videos of OWS, seen them on the news, watched the live stream, read the blogs

and articles. Everyone who is part of OWS was on the same page, shouting about the same thing. For crying out loud, even Kanye West was there, on the same page as the 99%ers.

Meanwhile, in Los Angeles, I concluded that people were merely shouting, hoping to be the loudest voice in the crowd.

This wasn’t the only thing that confused me. I was curious if those ones shouting the loudest, knew what the definitions of the words were that spewed out of their mouths.

It seems as though half of the Occupants are upset that Burning Man is over and are trying to turn City Hall into a personal “Rite of Passage.”

This means people are awake until 5 a.m., partying in the name of revolution, I think. Did you think you were going to get sleep after 5 a.m.? Think again. From the center of camp, you will hear such things as a woman banging on drums, screaming at the top of her lungs, “CAPITALISM DOESN’T SLEEP, YOU SHOULDN’T EITHER!”

Not only are the spoken words confusing, the words written are misleading, to say the least.

Walking around the camp, there are hundreds of signs about losing a home, the high cost of student loans and evil corporations. However, quite frequently, there are some signs that just don’t belong.

A personal favorite of these signs is the man who carries a sign that reads, “I like turtles.” I’m really glad he likes turtles. I like turtles as well. So, what are you so angry about? Are banks killing turtles now?

Aside from the completely random, there are still people shouting about the wars in the Middle East. And some people are angry about seal clubbing. I’m sorry, OLA participants; I think you’re at the wrong protest. Now, please grab a “99%” patch and tell us more about capitalism.

The last thing that made me question the Occupy Movement

is the outcome. The question that has yet to be answered for me is, “What happens next?”

The Occupants are here until December. After December, are these people simply going to go home and think, “Well, we tried!”

I understand the movement, still. But the route it has been traveling is dark, and I think I see a brick wall straight ahead.

Do you want an outcome? Don’t wait for the problems to solve themselves. Think of REASONABLE possible solutions. Try to get everyone shouting, shouting about the same thing.

Here it is, Occupants, straight and raw: How are the lawmakers, the 1%, the nation, going to take this seriously, if you don’t take yourselves seriously?

From LOST BOY to

Story and photos by: Lorrie Reyes

As a riverboat passes by along a quiet river in Tennessee, an ex-gang member from Pacoima, Calif. sits on a dock nearby. Just watching. Breathing. Living.

This serene setting is a world and life away from where 12-year-old Neil Gutierrez was issued a seven-year sentence for beating up his mother’s boyfriend. He walked into her house to pick up clothes and found her live-in boyfriend there with other women while she was at work.

He got beat up that day for defending her but came back with a group of friends. They put the boyfriend in a coma for weeks. He served four of the seven years for attempted murder.

Once he was home, at a family reunion, the boyfriend and Neil had words again.

“I really wanted to take that

man’s life that day,” says Neil. But he didn’t. Instead, his older brother Erwin, one of four, took care of the problem. Literally. Erwin was convicted for murder and has been serving a life sentence since 1990. Now 36, Neil who has spent the majority of his life incarcerated or on drugs—or both—has found a new path

with Homeboy Industries. Homeboy Industries, which is based in Los Angeles and was founded by Father Greg Boyle helps reformed gang members in all aspects. The company provides jobs, education and tattoo removal, and other ways to help gang members reform.

Neil has held several jobs within Homeboy Industries, but currently he works in the payroll office, keeping timecards accurate.

“Once I walked in here I knew this was where I belonged,” says Neil. “I have more feeling of acceptance here than I’ve ever had in my life. I feel more at home here than at home.”

Homeboy Industries has been opened since 2001.

Prior to opening Homeboy Industries Boyle participated in Jobs For A Future (JFF), which was created in 1988.

“About 15,000 folks a year walk through our doors trying to get some assistance to re-direct their lives and so we help them do it,” says Boyle. “It’s a great privilege to be here to accompany these folks here. It’s a very gratifying place.”

One benefit of working at Homeboy Industries is getting to join Boyle when he travels to speak in various places. He will sometimes take the “homeboys” to get them out of their surroundings. Neil, along with another homeboy, went with Boyle

“Right now we’re at the point where just breathing just makes us feel good. Life and peace of mind is much nicer than a new car.”

— Neil Guiterrez

Born into violence, a reformed gang member tries to break the cycle.

Left:Lannae Guiterrez embraces father Neil Gutierrez after a weekend of time spent together at his home in Pacoima,Calif. Above:Neil Gutierrez is walking into work at Homeboy Industries in Los Angeles.

on a trip to Tennessee, where for the first time he was able to relax in a peaceful setting.

But Tennessee is a long way from home, and so is Homeboy Industries.

The organization is a block away from Union Station in Downtown Los Angeles. To get there he takes two buses and a train. His total commute time is at least four hours a day.

He walks through his front gate no later than 6:30 a.m. He grabs a cup of coffee and two snacksize Kit-Kats right before the train leaves the San Fernando Valley.

“This is when I’m at my best,” says Neil as he walks to his first bus stop for the day.

Even though his workday ends at 4:30 p.m. he doesn’t get back home until 6:30 p.m.

Neil currently has two strikes and four felonies spread out over his young life. He was born in Brooklyn and was sent to live with his grandmother in El Salvador when he was 3 years old.

He didn’t reunite with his mother until he was 10 years old.

“He is a very good guy who’s been through a lot in his life,” says Boyle about Neil.

Gutierrez struggled when he came to California. Not really knowing his mother, he lived with his brothers.

Two of Neil’s older brothers are dead and one is in jail. One of his brothers overdosed, as did his father. Another one of his brothers was murdered. While attending that funeral, his best friend was murdered. And Erwin will be in prison for life.

His family life has never been like those you see on a sitcom.

“I don’t really know what that word means,” says Neil. “I did crime with my brothers and got high with my dad. That’s not normal. “

Gutierrez wasn’t just jumped into a gang. He was born into it.

“To think that I was fighting and willing to die over a street that didn’t even belong to me is ridiculous to me now,” says Neil.

He is now trying to change what he has known as family. Being a father of two girls,

Lynnette, 15, and Lannae, 10, he is focused on them instead.

He spends every weekend with Lannae and he takes every opportunity to be a kid with her.

They go shopping, to the zoo and sometimes just stay in.

“He’s a really good dad,” says Lannae. “He lets me watch my TV shows even when he doesn’t like them.”

And although they don’t talk about the incident, he is also working on his relationship with his mother. But a majority of his days focus on Homeboy Industries.

MORE

THAN OFFICE WORK-

There are six businesses under the Homeboy Industries umbrella.

The organization’s restaurant, Homegirl Café, uses the farm-to-table method. A small garden located on the Homeboy Industries lot, along with six other gardens, help the café grow fresh herbs and vegetables that get used in

“To think that I was fighting and willing to die over a street that didn’t even belong to me is ridiculous to me now.”

— Neil Guiterrez

their menu. The restaurant serves breakfast, lunch and brunch on Sundays and caters orders for 40 people or more.

Since Homegirl Café grows their own products, they participate in farmers markets, including in Canoga Park, Calif.

Homeboy Bakery makes the breads and desserts for Homegirl Café and also caters. A second restaurant, Homeboy

Diner, recently opened up at City Hall.

All co-workers are issued t-shirts with the motto: “Jobs Not Jails” or “Nothing stops a bullet like a job.” The shirts are made by the silkscreen and embroidery division of Homeboy Industries.

The silkscreen and embroidery warehouse of the organization makes the t-shirts, aprons and baby clothes that are sold on the Homeboy Industries property. A line of chips and salsa can also be found in major grocery stores. Music, mugs and books

are also sold. But more than that, Homeboy Industries offers reforming gang members education. They have a charter school that provides an education to kids that are potential dropouts. They also offer addiction recovery meetings and anger management classes, and there are resources to help find jobs outside of Homeboy Industries. The organization also offers tattoo removal. Depending on the tattoo, it can take up to 30 treatments for a tattoo to be removed.

“We have people come in from age 5 to 87,” says Troy Clark, a Homeboy Industries tattoo removal volunteer. “I see about 50 to 75 patients a day, which can be three or four, up to 500 tattoos a day.”

Homeboy Industries has offered dog-obedience classes, and Neil, a dog-lover, joined. He now is a certified dog trainer.

Fabian DeVora, Neil’s co-

worker and an artist, said Neil has dramatically changed from the first time they met.

“He’s gotten a taste of life and how to be a responsible individual,” says DeVora. “Now we are hoping Neil can begin to dream big.”

Neil is trying to dream big, but he also is concentrating on his sobriety. He says he has been clean from heroin for four years.

“Right now we’re at the

point where just breathing just makes us feel good,” says Neil. “Life and peace of mind is much nicer than a new car.”

Being able to actually breathe easily and enjoy life is what Neil is all about. Homeboy Industries has given him the tools to accomplish that. So when he gets an opportunity, he takes in the simple things in life, such as sitting on a dock and watching a riverboat pass by for the first time.

For more information on Homeboy Industries visit: www.homeboy-industries.org

Previous page: Neil Gutierrez accepts a bite of ice cream from daughter Lannae Gutierrez while waiting for their laundry. Left:Neil Gutierrez stands,waiting for his bus ride home after a long day of work.Right:Neil Gutierrez and co-worker Fabian DeVora at work in Homeboy Industries’offices in Los Angeles.

Lambda member creates “Just Say Knot to Boobs”to raise money for top surgery

Gamma Roe

BUY A BOWTIE TAKE A TOP OFF

Story & Photos by: Jacqueline Kalisch

anic washes over 21-year-old Alex Koontz when the idea of going to the bathroom approaches.

Koontz rarely passes as a guy so going into the men’s restroom is extremely stressful. It’s even worse to use the woman’s restroom with all the stares and constant whispers. Keeping his eyes to the ground and doing what has to be done is Koontz’s only way out.

Being a college student who is transgender, Koontz had to put some things aside because he could not afford tuition and transitioning from female to male at the same time. Koontz used all his money for tuition, so he created a project called “Just Say Knot to Boobs,” for

Tanya Ruiz, who is charge of production, and with Mandy Zhou, who is in charge of advertising and media.

“It’s literally just three people hanging out, planning and designing bowties,” Koontz says. Networking, advertising and general “hustling” are mainly Koontz’s responsibilities.

Zhou met Koontz through Gamma Rho Lambda, a Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender (LGBT) sorority at California State University, Northridge (CSUN), and she was intrigued by his “Just Say Knot to Boobs” idea.

“He came up to me and said, ‘oh I have this idea,’ and since I’m the archivist for the sorority, I have a camera, I can take pictures and we can make something big,” says Zhou.

Ruiz is the “magical genius”

is often hard to understand and Rabizadeh helps students understand the terminology of sexuality.

“Though individual cases often vary, someone who is transgender feels as if they were born as a member of the wrong sex,” explains Rabizadeh. “In other words, psychologically, they feel as if they are one sex, but anatomically they are the other sex. Gender is an integral part of our identity, so this experience must be challenging and complicated on many levels. Many of us cannot even begin to imagine what someone who is transgender feels, since we so often take our sex for granted.”

Gender stereotypes also take a turn for the worse, and for Alex and other transgender students it takes

which he designs bowties to raise money, not only for his “top surgery” but also for younger trans guys who can’t afford chest binders. The project began this past summer with Alex’s love of bowties and the realization that they are not difficult to make.

“The bowties represent a bit of cheekiness and sophistication,” says Koontz. “I’m a very silly individual and at the same time I like to present myself as a dandy young gent and bowties bring that all together.”

The main audience Koontz is aiming for is his friends in the community who want to help him reach his goal of “top surgery,” but also just people who think bowties are “snazzy”. Koontz says the community also wants bowties for pets. “Just Say Knot to Boobs” is still in the stages of production and will be gaining steady momentum by word of mouth and support from friends.

Koontz makes bowties with

behind all the fabrication and Koontz came up with the concept.

Zhou supports Koontz’s top removal surgery.

“As a fellow sibling in the sorority I support my brother 100 percent,” says Zhou. The transition from female to male is expensive. Surgery, seeing a therapist and monthly hormone treatments cost money, around $250 or more a month, and up to $12,000 for chest removal. Koontz started off with a chest binder to flatten his chest.

“I feel really dysphoric about my chest,” says Koontz. “And I had to wear a chest binder, which is extremely uncomfortable and very expensive, and I’m not wearing one now because my mom threw mine away.”

All together the amount comes out to thousands of dollars and in Alex’s case insurance won’t cover anything.

Professor Hengameh Rabizadeh teaches “Communication and the Sexes” at CSUN. Transgender

away their comfort level in their society.

“As an instructor for a course that focuses on the relationship between gender and communication, I can say that gender stereotypes are still very prevalent in our culture,” says Rabizadeh. “In many ways, we all participate in perpetuating these stereotypes that are often harmful and limiting for both men and women.”

The first step to breaking free from these stereotypes is recognizing that they exist. It was very hard for Koontz’s family to break away from the idea of gender stereotypes and being transgender.

Koontz was the youngest out of four children with a 20-year age gap from the eldest, which set him apart from everyone in his family. Amusing himself was his only option to have some sort of playful interaction.

“I was more into the sports and if we played make-believe

“I was a good looking girl but I wasn’t happy, ”

games, where we pretended to be somebody else, I always wanted to be ... not one of the girl characters,” says Koontz, who loved to play Luke Skywalker from the famous franchise, “Star Wars.”

“I remember being in my backyard and I had this giant stick and I pretended that I was Luke Skywalker and it was my light saber and my dog was Chewbacca,” says Koontz, who wanted to be the hero that saved the princess from the “bad” guys.

Koontz remembers being around 4 years old and asking to his dad, “Why am I not like my brothers? You know? Why can’t I be like them? I’m a boy but I’m different.” Alex’s father told him to forget how he felt and to act like the girl he was supposed to be. He never brought it up again until high school.

“So, I’m a girl who likes girls?”

wonders Koontz. “And all my classmates were telling me, you’re a lesbian. I went from being a tomboy to wearing make-up and heels, doing my hair and all sorts of crap. His junior/senior year changed him into a completely different person.

“I was a good looking girl but I wasn’t happy,” says Koontz. “And I did it to blend in because it was what everyone else wanted.”

Alex’s father had become increasingly negative towards him during high school, to the point where he began abusing him.

“He left when I was 17 and I haven’t talked to him since,” explains Koontz, his eyes diverted to the ground. “And the reason why he did everything he did was because I’m trans, because I’m different, because I am what I am.”

Alex’s mother doesn’t accept him being trans, but she will always

love him.

“I’ve come out to my mother and she does not accept it, she does not like it and she still calls me her daughter. She still uses my birth name,” says Koontz.

He recalls his mother saying, “I’m not always happy with the things you do, but regardless whatever you do with your life, one, I will never be ashamed of you, two, I will always be proud of you and three, I will always love you.”

No one in Koontz’s family is accepting of his transition except his second older sister, Erin.

Alex is the co-founder of the LGBT sorority at CSUN where he feels comfortable.

“My sorority sisters were there for me and when I founded it four years ago,” says Koontz. “I was still a girl and they’ve seen me being ‘that’ founder (Koontz prefers not to use his birth name), to me being

DISCUSS- Alex Koontz, is signing with Chelsea Kowitz from CSUN’s American Sign Language class in Los Angeles,Calif.

Alex, the founder and brother.”

It became a matter of letting the rest of the sisters know and introducing them to the idea of Alex being transgender. He says that the warm reception and love he has gotten from his “siblings” in the sorority has been amazing.

Karlee Johnson, a student at CSUN, met Koontz through the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender Alliance (LGBTA) at school, but she didn’t know him as Alex then.

“I really didn’t think much about it, until this past winter break when he transitioned,” says Johnson. “He changed his Facebook and didn’t really tell anyone. He just changed his Facebook name and his gender to male.”

Whether it’s through bowties or having conversations about stress around something as simple as going to the bathroom, Koontz is always advocating LGBT awareness.

“Every day I educate someone on trans issues,” says Koontz. “And I’m an activist in that community and I try to educate people based on my experiences.”

“The bowties represent a bit of cheekiness and sophistication. I’m a very silly individual and at the same time I like to present myself as a dandy young gent and bowties bring that all together. ”

—Koontz

TERRY- Alex Koontz, is with Terry Marshall, a LGBTA member at CSUN in Los Angeles,Calif.

Apetite woman with peachcolored skin and pearly white hair closes her eyes as she practices singing Christmas carols. Her passion for performing shines bright in her eyes while the ENCORE Singers rehearse in Room 3400 of the Pierce College music building.

Eileen Guliasi, 81, is back in school for the first time since she graduated from Theodore Roosevelt High School in Chicago more than 60 years ago.

Following her husband’s death in 1994 after battling lung cancer, Guliasi started thinking about the plans they had made to retire together and her longforgotten dreams of becoming a singer. Guliasi decided to return to school when she got involved with OASIS, an older adult program, which has partnered with the Pierce College ENCORE Program since 2000.

ENCORE is a Pierce College education program designed to offer adults who are at least 60 years old courses that address the educational needs and interests of mature adults. These classes focus on topics that promote independence, advocacy, community engagement, self-maintenance and personal growth.

Guliasi is currently enrolled in three singing classes, the ENCORE Singers, the Songbirds and the

easonedS

Cabaret Singers. To complete her calendar schedule, she instructs fitness classes. The variety of classes available through ENCORE include yoga, art, music, dance and theater. Many students in the program are retired teachers, and some of them were also Pierce students in their younger years.

Guliasi and her husband Fred were married in 1949 by a Justice of the Peace. She was a secretary at the American Medical Association (AMA) and her husband Fred was a salesman.

When each of their three sons was born, she quit working to stay home and raise them. When the children got a little older, she went back to work, but only in the evening when her husband was home to care for the children.

“Fred and I knew each other almost two years before we got married,” says Guliasi.

In 1966, the Guliasis and their three sons, Les, Gary, and Daniel, piled into their 1962 Ford to move to Los Angeles.

“I joined the Los Angeles Unified School District to become the secretary to the vice principals at Fairfax High School,” says Guliasi. “Surprising isn’t it?”

California brought new opportunities, and new life, with the birth of another son, Kenneth.

“I was back to being a mommy, raising my little guy,” says Guliasi.

She joined the PTA and volunteered at his school. When Kenneth began going to school full time, Guliasi returned to work as an executive secretary at the AMA, until she retired in 1994 to assist her husband.

The life of a dedicated wife and mother didn’t leave much time for Guliasi to pursue personal interests. She began to wonder what it would be like to sing again. But she wasn’t quite sure how to get involved or if she was even ready to approach the academic world.

“Life changes,” says Guliasi.

Her sons had graduated from college and successfully entered the working world. That’s when Guliasi became a family of one. None of her sons live

Story by: Xavier Hamlin

PRACTICE - Guliasi,practicing the Christmas Carol with the ENCORE Singers.

Photos by: Gabriela Gomez

Songbird easoned

in Southern California. They have to travel to see each other, which they manage to do, but they never get to spend enough time together. Guliasi’s oldest son Les is in Berkeley, Gary in Nipomo, Daniel in San Rafael, and her youngest Ken is in La Mesa.

“ Last year, I had a big birthday party and all four of my sons were there, including my daughters-in-law and my seven grandchildren,” says Guliasi.

It was the best birthday party ever because her whole family was together, but the one person she wished that she had by her side was Fred.

Then, after six years without her husband, Guliasi gathered the courage to go back to school.

“ It’s a good experience to be 60 or 65 years old and come back to the school where you used to be a student when you were younger,” says Guliasi about the ENCORE students.

She also helps Ida Blaine, the ENCORE director, at the Pierce monthly volunteer meeting. Guliasi has become a pillar in the program.

“She is fantastic, a hard, and a strong working woman,” says Blaine. “I really appreciated her help when she’s in the office. She gives 100 percent all the time.”

The ENCORE volunteers assist the instructors in the classrooms. They usher for Art Department performances, the Los Angeles Pierce Symphonic Winds, the ENCORE Singers, and the dance programs.

“My life and time are overflowing with my duties as the ENCORE volunteer coordinator,” says Guliasi.

They also staff the ENCORE student art exhibits and volunteer at the President’s Honor List Reception. Guliasi also volunteers for Community Outreach.

“We reach out to the community to help in any way we can,” says Guliasi.

This includes speaking at an organization, helping at community events such as health fairs, and delivering ENCORE catalogs in the neighborhood.

“ Give the ENCORE office a call,” says Guliasi. “Ida Blaine and her assistant

Dominique Sedeno are the most cooperative and the most pleasant people to work with.”

As volunteer coordinator, Guliasi helps students register for classes, answers questions, and she gives advice to the students.

Molly Novak, an ENCORE volunteer, is grateful for all that Pierce College has to offer.

“I became a member of ENCORE when it was first established on the Pierce College campus in 2000,” says Novak. “Certainly, without ENCORE, there would be a huge void in my life.”

The ENCORE non-credit classes meet for two hours a week for 15 weeks during the fall and spring semesters. In winter and summer semesters the program meets for only five weeks.

Surrounded by her peers, Guliasi and the other students take direction from music professor Cathryn Tortell, who is sitting behind a piano. It took more than half a century, but Guliasi is fulfilling her dreams of being a singer and playing the piano.

It’s her encore performance.

ATTENTIVE - Guliasi and the ENCORE Singers listening to professor Tortell’s direction.

From full-time wife and mother to full-time volunteer coordinator of the ENCORE Program at Pierce College

Broadway At Dawn

Photo Essay by: Ava Weintraub

SHOESHINE- Abel Hernandez gets his shoes shined while shopping on Broadway.

Above center- Jose Beltran buys cigars before chapel next door to the store.

Bottom left- Broadway sandwich shop owner the morning rush while their first customer breakfast.

This work documents Broadway Street as it is now, struggling to find a new identity. It's hard to make a living with the depressed economy. Unused office space is being transformed into pricey lofts in a bad real estate market.

My passion for the Broadway Street retail corridor in Downtown Los Angeles started as a very young child in the early 1960s. I played in my Grandparents' clothing store and office building located on the corner of 4th Street and Broadway Street. The building was known as The Grant Building. Completed in 1902, it was one of the oldest buildings on Broadway until a fire destroyed it in the 1970s.

I caught a glimpse of what Broadway used to be with its large department stores, majestic theaters and Red Cars running down the middle of the street. My fascination with the street never waned through the years. I watched it transition from major department stores to small merchants selling everything from perfume to produce.

before his niece’s wedding in the owner Pejman Jadidi prepares for Fernando Guzman eats his

TAKING FLIGHT- Pigeons scatter and fly away as morning pedestrians make their way on Broadway.

His fingers were covered in smudged hues of blue paint with a tangible intensity emanating from his molasses colored eyes. Ramiro Alejandro Hernandez, aka RAH, puts the finishing touches on an Aztec inspired painting inside the 11:11 temporary art gallery in Canoga Park, Calif. The streets buzz with live music and food trucks as the last of the summertime “ArtRageous Art Walk” events is in full swing.

One of six members in an artist collective called The 818 Valley Ratz, RAH is intent on representing the San Fernando Valley—as well as his Mexican heritage— in his work. RAH is also part of El Buen Pastor Mural Project, which is a collection of 12 artists who at the end of this year will paint a mural on a shelter for women and children survivors of domestic violence in Guanajuato, Mexico. Not only are art and culture instrumental to personal development, but new artists in the San Fernando Valley are also using their skills as a positive tool to inspire and build community.

“The valley is a place where we have such a mix of cultures and realities that I would expect to see a lot more art up on the walls of small businesses that represent our community,” says RAH.

Several years ago he noticed that

ANCESTORS

Local artist, RAH, strives to bring cultural art to residents of the San Fernando Valley and Mexico through an artists collective.

there was something missing in the San Fernando Valley, and it was neighborhood art. With this realization, a new sense of purpose was born in the heart of RAH.

His first exposure to art came through the world of hip hop, break dancing and graffiti as a teenager. RAH’s ancestry bubbled up to the surface in the process of discovering his artistic style.

“I started exploring my roots and Aztec culture when I was 23 and it transformed my abstract graffiti and artwork into a more mystic type of dream state with an Aztec influence,” says RAH, now 26, who travels throughout Southern California showing his artwork at various events.

Art lovers from the Valley travel to Downtown LA for its monthly art walk, or to Venice for “Abbot Kinney 1st Fridays.” But “ArtRageous Art Walk” is part of a growing movement to bring similar events to the area.

Story by Portia Medina

Photos by Jose Romero

PRIDE- RAH stands in front a small scale version of the mural in Los Angeles,on Sept 30,2011.The mural will be painted in Guanajuato,Mexico at the end of this year..

“Art has a different meaning now, it’s a movement,to inspire,to create change,”

—RAH

ANCESTORS come live The Art of RAH A

“I hope that the next generation is inspired by what we are doing here in their backyard so that they can start seeing more culture,” says RAH. “And that’s what my art is trying to bring to the foreground, have something to stand for and to be proud of.”

Art collectives such as 11:11 A Creative Collective, Art Junkys, and the Get Down Collective are a vehicle to drive the ever-growing art culture to the Valley.

“They’re young, super passionate and they bring all kinds of new artists out who are ready to take up the cause,” says Spike Dolomite-Ward, who is the founder of the Arts in Education Aid Council, a nonprofit that focuses on restoring a complete arts education program to the public schools of the San Fernando Valley.

Jaime Martinez, 29, had his art displayed on a table in front of the 11:11 gallery in Canoga Park at the art walk. He is a member of the Art Junkys collective in the San Fernando Valley and grew up in Pacoima, Calif. The Art Junkys are also a part of the El Buen Pastor Mural Project in Mexico.

“Art brings people together and you get to know who your neighbors are,” says Martinez.

RAH believes that his actions will influence other artists to shine the same kind of light in the community by creating murals where they live.

“We went from a simple idea of coming together as artists and creating a collective to going to Mexico to paint two murals at a women’s shelter,” says RAH, who begins to smile as he talks about

“I started exploring my roots and Aztec culture when I was 23 and it transformed my abstract graffiti and artwork into a more mystic type of dream state with an Aztec influence,”

—RAH

INTENSITY- RAH,paints the Mobile Mural Labs truck in Los Angeles,Calif.on Sept 30,2011.

COLLABORATION- Ramiro Hernandez,RAH,and fellow artist Gladis Alejandre (L- R) look over artwork at“El Velorio,”a day of the dead cultural event and art exhibit held on Oct 28,2011 at KGB Studios in Los Angeles,Calif.

the El Buen Pastor Mural Project. “To me, that’s surreal. And it’s something positive.

“Art has a different meaning now. It’s a movement, to inspire, and to create change, especially with groups that are going to continue to do projects that will have a change not only in their lives, but in the lives of other people too.

“I feel that the arts and events that embrace cultures from different sides of the world and just let them shine, that in itself will have an impact and create the change that we need in the world.”

It’s that clear vision that guides RAH’s hands as he finishes the blue Aztec-inspired piece at “ArtRageous Art Walk.” Hanging around his neck is a heavy stone necklace with the head of an Aztec warrior that reminds RAH that he is a warrior for the arts, a warrior for the movement and a warrior for the people.

REMEMBRANCE- Ramiro Hernandez ,RAH, lights copal over an alter dedicated to his mother at“El Velorio,”a day of the dead cultural event and art exhibit held on Oct 28,2011 at KGB Studios in Los Angeles,Calif.

Remain Awake

Photography by Erin M. Stone

Written by Cyrus Moghadassi and Erin M. Stone

Peering Through

the old shutters of a desolate home, dust covered and well worn. Close them for the last time.

Breathe in sentiment, peace, forgiveness.

Exhale

The great fade away echoes louder into numbness that permeates inward.

Never say goodbye

For as it nears the end, no is forever. No thing ends. Nothing ends. Shut your eyes for the last time. You cannot die.

You are to live within thoughts.

Always

Places you have been, places you know and love. Your house of solace. Returning to your ‘happy place.’

Where screams weaken into whispers.

Where you feel Alive.

Revisit your life’s work and passion

You shall remain Awake. Inside the infinitely spaced fond memories.

Lifted

by the thought of your last kiss. Soft skin

interwoven so tightly.

Breathing in the sky.

Be born into the vast everything, that is Nothingness the same.

Tied & Bound

in Los Angeles

Through childhood play, a southern belle found her course of sanity.

Story by: Sage Lynn

Photo by: Jose Romero

Illustration by: Maria Salvador

Red, blue and yellow lights illuminate a 10-square-foot linoleum dance floor in the center of the main room, as the audience watches a petite young woman wrapping rope around a tall, hard-bodied man. With each layer of rope she wraps around his torso she explains to the audience how important it is to avoid “huge owies.”

The audience moves in sync with Darren, the demonstration model, as he is pushed, pulled and turned again and again as she pulls the rope over and under itself. This is the third Friday of the month and the Los Angeles Dommes and Submissive (LADS) group is presenting its monthly “pre-Venus Night Demo” at a local Los Angeles “dungeon.” This night it’s “Rope,” presented by Nikki Nefarious.

“Do you mind being hog-tied?” asks Nefarious. Darren smiles and quietly says, “Yeah, that’s OK.”

Nefarious isn’t your typical Southern Belle. At first glance all you see is a young woman that stands 5-foot, 4-inches, wears her dark-red hair in pig tails that rest upon her shoulders, and rectangle glasses.

“Grab the center of the rope,” she directs the audience. Nefarious holds one end of the rope in her left hand and the other moves down the length of the rope. She then folds it to make a loop at one end. The audience follows with their ropes.

Nefarious, 31, has come a long way since her South Carolina days, where she says “all we had literally was woods and dirt and whatever we could scrounge in the tool shed.” She would play “cowboys and robbers” with the neighborhood kids and professes to have been a tomboy until puberty turned “just a friend” into a boyfriend.

Today she teaches everything from simple harnesses, to suspension (with an emphasis on safety) at a North Hollywood dance studio called The Glass Slipper. She also rigs fetish models for photographs and fetish video, and on rare occasions does demonstrations. She recently rigged for the “S & M” music video by Rihanna. She is one of the few female rope artists who has earned the respect of her male counterparts.

When she was looking for a teacher in North Carolina and South Carolina she found that most men believed that “girls should be on the other side of the rope” and some even told her that, “Maybe you can watch and learn, little girl.”

Nefarious created a “Bondage Certification” program, which teaches the underlying principles of tying and safety.

When Nefarious was trying to learn the art of rope ties, bondage harnesses, and rope suspension, she discovered that there was a history to this fetish that went back centuries. She discovered Kinbaku.

Since the 1990s, Kinbaku (Japanese style rope bondage) has become quite popular in the western Bondage, Dominant/Submissive (BDSM), Sadomasochism scene. Kinbaku has been used in Japan for decades, but recently it has found a new life with rope artists putting their spin on this ancient form.

Master K is one of the foremost experts in Kinbaku outside of Japan.

learning safety. Nefarious will soon be including a class in CPR, general first aid and the use of an AED (Automated External Defibrillator) machine in her rope classes.

Nefarious is both a professional rope artist and a “lifestyler (non-professional).” She enjoys the intimacy and sensuality that rope bondage brings to her choice of play.

Nefarious brings a positive energy flow when performing at a local fetish club, tying up a client during a session at a pro dungeon, or simply having fun with a play partner.

“It’s like I had blinders on when she had me in suspension,” says Jonathan Bernanth, Nefarious’ former submissive and play partner.

She learned the tricks of the trade in her South Carolina youth, experimenting with her first boyfriend. They unknowingly discovered the fetish of “tease and denial.” Nefarious would tie her boyfriend to a chair and mercilessly make out with him while denying him the ability to touch her.

“We wanted to be pure in the eyes of the Lord,” says Nefarious.

He has studied the art of Kinbaku for almost 40 years and is the author of “The Beauty of Kinbaku.”

“There is a great difference between Japan and here,” says Master K. “Not just in the orientation toward it, but also in the amount of activities.”

Kinbaku dates back to Japan’s Edo period (1603-1868) when shoguns were the police and military forces for the Takugawa family, which ruled the country. The Japanese kept isolated from the rest of the world so they did not have handcuffs or shackles. What they did have was rope, from jute to hemp to linen. Rope had a wide range of uses including spiritual rituals and binding and torturing prisoners.

Like Master K, Nefarious’ first concern is safety. She begins classes by teaching students an overview of physiology. She teaches that there are certain areas of the body to never place knots, and to learn what style of knot is best for the weight and body type of the person being tied. She stresses the fact that to avoid physical damage depends on

It wasn’t until her senior year in college, where she was a business major, when she discovered that her enjoyment of tying people up and photographing them was a part of the BDSM subculture.

“I would pose them like they were my little human Barbies,” says Nefarious.

After moving to Los Angeles from South Carolina two years ago, she was opened up to a bigger world of BDSM. She worked a day job, and on the side she would dabble in the local BDSM community with her love of “bondage photography.”

“Doing my little bondage photography is what literally kept my sanity,” says Nefarious. Becoming a part of the local BDSM community was life changing for her. “I wasn’t a freak or this weird person,” she says.

Currently, Nefarious has been commissioned by Dungeon Servitus, a San Diego area professional dungeon, to teach the Pro Doms (Professional Dominants) how to rig so they can service the needs of clients that desire a rope bondage session.

Nefarious’ philosophy of rigging transcends merely tying someone up or making a pretty pattern with rope. She puts more than just time and effort into her art; she puts her own energy into what she does.

“We wanted to be pure in the eyes of the Lord”, –Nefarious

DYING to live

After dodging death three times

one paralyzed gang member REFUSES to change his life

Robert Hernandez was standing in front of the White Memorial Medical Center in East Los Angeles. His friend wanted to wait for the bus, but he wanted to get a taxi instead. Hernandez was smoking a cigarette with his friend when they saw a car pass by and a man lowered the window to yell out his gang’s name.

Hernandez did not hesitate to yell out his gang’s name and a few minutes after the car passed, the

taxi arrived. He was opening the taxi’s door when his friend saw the car drive around the block and come back their way. His friend insisted they should run because they both knew what was next, but Hernandez refused. He wasn’t scared.

In that moment he heard the taxi’s wheel screech as the driver drove off with the door still open.

The car got closer, a man pulled out a gun and shot Hernandez. The man unloaded two more bullets,

aiming for Hernandez, but instead shot a woman and her son walking down the street. The boy died.

“I tried moving to the sidewalk and telling him (my friend) to get help,” says Hernandez. “Like in that moment, I knew what was going to happen, but I was stuck. I felt stuck because I couldn’t move. All I remember is the guy going for the trigger and I fell to the ground.”

The bullet went from his left arm, and traveled to his shoulder and

Story by: Tracey Hernandez

FRESH AIR - Robert Hernandez sits outside his mother’s apartment and smokes a cigarette near the tagged stairs displaying his gang’s name.

Photos by: Erin M. Stone

eventually broke his collarbone. That bullet is still there. He is paralyzed from his waist down.

That was six years ago. Now, Hernandez is 27 years old and lives with his mother, Leticia Herrera, 42, in an apartment located in the city of Montebello. He has a slim figure with fair skin, and both of his arms are entirely covered with tattoos. His head is shaved so he can show off his most recent tattoo he has across the back of his head.

He was born in Torrance, Calif., and raised in East Los Angeles. His father left him and his mother when he was two. His father rarely visits but calls frequently.

Although he was shot and has gone through a lot of physical pain, Hernandez insists he will never change his ways simply because he doesn’t want to. But he does have dreams.

“I hope to become a youth counselor someday and just tell kids my story so they won’t make the same mistake,” says Hernandez as he lies down on his hospital bed shirtless.

Hernandez believes his wrong doings all began at the age of 13 when he started to skip school. In 11th grade he joined a tagging crew with his friends.

He lost count how many times he has been in jail. Only two months ago he got off his probation for a high-speed pursuit from 2006. The freeway car chase went from Orange County to East Los Angeles.

“I was all methed (drugged) out when it happened,” says Hernandez, holding his touch screen phone in his right hand and using his left hand to pull up his blanket.

On the day he was shot he visited his ex-girlfriend in the hospital because she was having kidney stones removed. He decided he wanted to go home and shower. His girlfriend did not want him to leave her so she started a fight. When he left to wait for the bus with his friend he got shot.

After the shooting Hernandez spent two days in a coma. When he woke up he was not able to feel anything from the neck down. He could not even move his arms. He recalls dying three times before he fell into a coma.

“The first time I died I woke up in the ambulance, and then in the emergency room,” says Hernandez.

“The third time the only thing I saw was everyone (all the doctors) on me. After that I don’t remember anything except the day I woke up but I

even now, he cannot move his legs. His right hand is also paralyzed.

Hernandez has been on the street selling drugs, getting high, writing on walls, robbing places, and threatening to shoot people if they didn’t give him their money since he was 13. He admits never caring who got hurt because he needed the money for drugs and alcohol. That is all that mattered to him.

couldn’t feel my hands or legs.”

He vaguely remembers the first time he woke up being questioned by the police officers about the incident and they asked him for his name. Hernandez gave them a fictitious name, fearing he would go to jail.

After two weeks, Hernandez was able to feel his chest and arms. But,

“I would rob from liquor stores and laundromats,” says Hernandez. “But my spot was on the corner of Alma Avenue and First Street in East Los Angeles. My homies and I would wait behind a wall next to a bar and just wait for people to come out so I can steal their money.”

He did not aim for a certain type of victim because he didn’t care who it was. He isn’t sure if the victims he shot are alive or dead. As soon as he got what he wanted he would walk away without a care. Hernandez

believes that if he would have had a stable home, a loving father who never left him, and his mother, he might have never gone down this path.

Hernandez had three jobs before he got shot. His first job was at a car dealership. His second was at a liquor store and his most recent at a tattoo parlor located in East Los Angeles. Besides robbing people, his hobby was tattooing.

He lives with no regrets, and admits that if he could go back in

NEW INK - Robert Hernandez’s newly acquired tattoos, showing his loyalty to his East Los Angeles gang.

He recalls dying three times before he fell into a coma.

MEMORIES - Leticia Hernandez proudly displays a photo of her two children as teenagers.

“The first time I died I woke up in the ambulance,and then in the emergency room.”

— Hernandez

time he would do it all over again. He enjoyed the rush it gave him and loved the feeling of almost getting caught. He’s not interested in changing because he likes who he is and will never change.

“My dad lives in Vegas and he wants me to go live with him, but I can’t leave my mom,” says Hernandez. “She’s been my mom and dad all my life. I would tell her all the time when I was in jail that I would

with the only window next to his bed shut. He has a 22-inch flat screen TV and a Play Station game is usually on. Behind it he has a big closet filled with clothes and boxes. The only thing hanging from his wall is a cross with small handwritten prayers tucked behind it.

His body is covered with tattoos representing his friends who have been killed. Hernandez also has his gang’s name tattooed on his right

a friend who called me to see how I was and never called again, but this guy has been a good one.”

Hernandez gives his friend a handshake followed by them bumping their knuckles together. Rodriguez takes a seat on the velour couch in the room.

“He’s been a good friend to me too and he’s done a lot for me so I can’t let my friend be alone in this,” says Rodriguez.

change but I would do the same thing again.”

His mother is a diligent woman who works part time as a waitress at IHOP in downtown Los Angeles. She has three children, all from different fathers, and currently lives with her kids and her boyfriend. She is the one who takes care of Hernandez’s needs.

“It hurts to see my son like this,” says Herrera. “He wants to get an operation because the doctor tells him it might make him walk again but I’m not sure. We don’t know how much it will cost us but I’m sure it’s not cheap. I don’t want to get his hopes up.”

Hernandez lives in a three-bedroom apartment with his mother, his 22-year-old sister, and his 14-year-old brother. His room is small and dark

arm. He does not know how many tattoos he has but believes it is more than 35. He wants to get more done because he feels like tattoos ease the pain.

Later, his mother comes to tell him that his friend Carlos Rodriguez, 19, is here to visit him. His face lights up.

“Through everything I’ve been through you also see who my true friends are,” says Hernandez. “I got

Hernandez confessed that he is not only suffering emotionally, but he has physical pain as well. He is not able to move his legs but suffers from pressure sores, or bedsores. These sores come about when you stay in a certain position for too long, and he gets them all around his body.

Taking his iPhone with his right hand and going through his gallery he pulls up a picture he had taken of himself with a pressure sore on his left rib cage. It is a bloody deep hole in his skin. Whenever he gets them a nurse comes, checks it, and prescribes something for the pain.

“I cry at times,” says Hernandez. “It helps, but I wake up the next day and find everything is the same. I never think of the future. I take it day by day.”

FORM OFTRANSPORTATION - Rober Hernandez shouts for his mother from his bed to assist him in getting into his chiar, which can always be found beside his bed.

“I cry at times,it helps, but I wake up the next day and find everything is the same.”

— Hernandez

So Who You Gonna Call? Pierce College!

Spanish professor by day, paranormal investigator by night.

Kirsten Thorne juggles life and what comes after death.

Story by: Arnavaz ‘Rosie’ Fatemi

Photo Illustration by: Erin

M. Stone

As she lay in the middle of a church, trying to relax and figure out what was going on in the main alter, Kirsten Thorne, 46, began to feel her necklace move. The chain with a heavy metal skull gripped tight around her throat and left marks as it crawled up her neck. She felt as if “it” was going to choke her while her friends were watching. The ghost was trying to tell her to respect the environment that she was in.

Kirsten Thorne, an associate professor of Spanish at Pierce College, and founder of the group Paranormal Housewives, defines the ghost in this creepy story as being a “splinter of a persons consciousness.”

Thorne sits outside her dimly lit office as she recalls one of the first

experiences she had with a “ghost.”

“I just remember early one morning before everybody was up, my grandfather saying goodbye, hugging me and telling me that he was going to miss me,” says Thorne. “When I told my mom that he had come see me, I found out that it was the same time that he died.”

Several more experiences throughout her life that she couldn’t explain led her to start a team that investigates reports of the paranormal.

“When the whole thing of ghost hunting got popular I realized that this is something that I could do myself and probably do better than the ones on TV,” says Thorne.

Through the Southern California paranormal community, Thorne knew a group of women who wanted to leave their respective groups and find teams that better fit their interests.

Lizeth Martinez, 32, a member of the Paranormal Housewives, was grateful the group was founded.

“This is awesome,” says Martinez. “There are other women who like doing the same thing I do.”

Another member, Jen Storey, 38, said she was 19 when she had her first ghost encounter.

“Something actually touched me and its hands climbed up my body,” says Storey. “Of course it creeped me out but it opened doors of interest.”

The Housewives go out on investigations two or three times a month and they report experiences with the unexplained almost every time.

The contact they receive is mainly personal, such as someone feeling as though their hair is being touched, or an object on them moving. Thorne is no stranger to

PRAYER CIRCLE- Client,Mari Amaya, and the Paranormal Housewives form a prayer circle before the investigation.

Photo by- Ava Weintraub

negative experiences. Some get as dramatic as clearly hearing a voice say,“I’m going to kill you,” on a recording.

Although during some investigations the mood can be dark, the

Housewives say they are not scared.

Paranormal Housewife Erin Potter, 36, claims, “Nearly 99 percent of the time ghost hunting is not scary—it’s not negative. All ghosts are, are just people without a body.

And just like people, some are nice, some are grumpy and some are mean.”

One thing Thorne is continuously stressing to people interested in contacting ghosts is to take precautions before going on an investigation, including entering a site with only “the purest intentions.”

The Paranormal Housewives do not charge for investigative services.

“I think we’re just trying to help people and let them know that there’s nothing to be afraid of,” says Storey. “We just want to make people feel better.”

Another precaution that the Housewives take is choosing sites with a positive history.

“You don’t really walk away from it, which is why we try to be very careful to where we investigate and what we expose ourselves to,” says Thorne.

Bringing a ghost home is something that frequently happens to Thorne, but it took a while for her and her team to learn that no matter where you go, something may follow you.

“Sometimes things do seem to follow you,” says Thorne. “You have to make sure you don’t allow that or don’t allow yourself to get exhausted or too affected by what’s going on in your investigations.”

Praying, meditating and finding her center are some ways Thorne tries to mentally and physically recover from an investigation.

“Basically, I have to accept the fact I won’t sleep much the night of an investigation and the next day I’m pretty useless. It completely drains you on every level,” says Thorne.

Aside from restless nights, Thorne’s experience has changed her view on the world.

“I have to tell myself to shut it out because if I don’t I’ll scare myself all of the time,” says Thorne.

In the old dormitories at Pierce, which are now the faculty offices, she reports that things happen when she’s by herself. Usually she feels that someone is hanging out in the common area or watching from a window. Thorne says she never feels alone in her office, so she never goes there alone at night.

(Fall 2011) The Bull 33

“Part of me thinks that we won’t understand this until after we’re dead” - Thorne

READINGS- Kirsten Thorne, takes K-2 readings before her investigation. Photoby- Amber-Rose Kelly

Thorne says that although she’s had a lot of ghost encounters, she still doesn’t have all the answers to life’s mysteries.

“It’s my hope that I’d have more answers in the future than I do now, but it’s not my expectation,” says Thorne. “Part of me thinks that we won’t understand this until after we’re dead. To me, what I want to know is, what happens to human consciousness and what happens when there is no body to support it anymore?”

However, the different Housewives see what they’re doing as giving different answers.

“The more I do this, the more it shows that there is life beyond here,” says Potter. “For me, it shows that you are an actual person and you don’t need a body to be alive.”

“I have to tell myself to shut it out because if I don’t I’ll scare myself all of the time,” says Thorne.

In the old dormitories at Pierce, which are now the faculty offices, she reports that things happen when she’s by herself. Usually she feels that someone is hanging out in the common area or watching from a window. Thorne says she never feels alone in her office, so she never

goes there alone at night.

Thorne says that although she’s had a lot of ghost encounters, she still doesn’t have all the answers to life’s mysteries.

“It’s my hope that I’d have more answers in the future than I do now, but it’s not my expectation,” says Thorne. “Part of me thinks that we won’t understand this until after we’re dead. To me, what I want to know is, what happens to human consciousness and what happens when there is no body to support it anymore?”

However, the different Housewives see what they’re doing as giving different answers.

“The more I do this, the more it shows that there is life beyond here,” says Potter. “For me, it shows that you are an actual person and you don’t need a body to be alive.”

“The more I do this, the more it shows that there is life beyond here”

CONTACT- Jennifer Storey, Erin Potter and Mari Amaya try to communicate with the spirits of the house.

Photo by- Amber-Rose Kelly