Digital April 2022 by SHEI Magazine

Volume 8 | Issue 6

Standford Lipsey Student Publications Building 420 Maynard St, Ann Arbor, MI 48109

ALEX ANDERSEN MACKENZIE FLEMING Editor-in-Chief

Publisher

Creative Director

Marketing Director

Operations Director

JACOB WARD

ALEX CHESSARE

JULIA NAPIEWOCKI

Design Editors

Print Fashion Editors

Print Features Editor

Print Photo Editors

GABI MECHABER EMMA PETERSON

JOSIE BURCK KARLY MADEY

MELINA SCHAEFER

KORRIN DERING ED TIAN

Video Editor

Digital Fashion Editor

Digital Features Editor

Print Beauty Editor

SAM RAO

SARAH ORY

LAUREN CHAMPLIN

YOUMNA KHAN

Finance Coordinators

Events Coordinator

Managing Photo Editor

Digital Photo Editor

MAGGIE CLARK MICHELLE TAO

CAROLINE MARTINO

GABRIELLE MACK

GABBY CERITANO

Human Resources Coordinator

Social Media Coordinators

Public Relations Coordinators

Street Style Editor

SENA KADDURAH

HANNAH TRIESTER APOORVA GAUTAM

DAPHNE PATTON RACHEL PORDY

SUREET SARAU

Digital Content Editor

ALEX STERCHELE

Design Team Andy Nakamura, Sandy Chang, Kai Huie, Christina Tan, Kimi Lillios, Rino Fujimoto, Kali Francisco, Olivia Ortiz, Camille Andrew, Taylor Silver, Nicole Kim, Margaret Laakso

Digital Content Team Neha Kotagiri, Allison He, Christina Tan, Helena Grobel, Sonali Pai

Finance Team Swetha Susarla, Michelle Tao, Emma Lewry, Margaret Clark, Elle Donakowski

Fashion Team Sophie Alphonso, Kailana Dejoie, Chloe Erdle, Isabelle Fisher, Tavleen Gill, Amanda Li, Peter Marcus, Courtney Mass, Noor Moughni, Olivia Mouradian, Natalia Nowicka, Madison Patel, Abby Rapoport, Dhruv Verma Anastasia Hernando, Ayanna Bell, Benjamin Michalsky, Emily Hayman, Gigi Kalabat, Janae Dyas, Jordan Wade, Kathryn Dorfman, Kelsea Chen Meredith Randall, Sarah Dettling, Sandy Chang, Sophie McKay, Victoria Vaz

Features Team Meera Kumar, Brooklyn Blevins, Annie Malek, Lucy Perrone, Ben Decker Cat Heher Neha Kotagiri, Melissa Dash, Patience Young, Janice Kang, Ava Shapiro, Hannah Triester, Heba Malik, Tiara Partsch, Natalia Szura, Jayde Emery, Sarah Stolar Nadia Judge, Katy Pentiuk, Peter Hummer, Christina Cincilla

Photography Team Anna Fuder, Brooke Dodderidge, Chrisitina Merrill, Emma West, Hannah Anderson, Margeaux Fortin, Nolan Lopez, Riley Kisser, Selena Sun, Sophie Hendrich, Tess Crowley, Zahria Jordan

Videography Team Grant Emmenheiser, Madeline Kim, Hannah Mutz, Lisa Ryou, Sara Cooper, Eaman Ali, Rachel Ienna, Samin Hassan, Hannah Hur, Emily Veguilla, Riley Kisser, Coco DelVecchio

Human Resources Team Mary Mack, Lillian Fakih, Jacqueline Choe, Izzy Tuchman

Public Relations Team Megan Eng, Mya Steir, Ava Ben David, Rachel Pordy, Katherine Lambert, Izzy Saunders, Celia Pagnucco, Kali Hightower

Events Team Alex McMullen, Molly Kennedy, Makenzie Kulczycki, Annie Cooper, Liza Miller, Julia Barge, Tiara Blonshine, Anastasia Hernando

Social Media Team Samedha Gorrai, Amanda Sachs, Anastasia Hernando, Makena Torrey, Julia Goldish, Charlotte Foley, Neha Kotagiri, Sandy Chang, Olivia Sun, Carolyn Soltz, Lauren Rosenberg, Megan Eng, Sofie Harb

Street Style Team Sophie Hendrich, Becca Mahon, Calin Firlit, Devon Kelly, Emmalyn Kukura, Emma Moss, Hanna Erhardt, Jenna Frieberg, Leonie Muno, Maggie Innis, Nicola Troschinet, Riley Kisser, Rosalie Comte, Tess Crowley, Victoria Vaz

IN THIS ISSUE 04

Letter from the Editors

Transient Beings

Don’t Be A Sucker

Nothing Gold Can Stay

The Art Process

Three Hundred Seventy-One Days

Daisy

When We Were Young

SHEI x Get Up Vintage

The Real World

1DERFUL

Split Score

LE ET TER FROM I

am terrified of pursuing a creative career. It seems extremely volatile, intimidating, and unattainable. I am deeply afraid that my work will never be good enough, that I will run out of ideas, or that I will never gain traction with my work, or that I won’t be able to support myself financially. I’m also very afraid that if I have a creative career, it will run me dry of my creative energy and I will no longer have the same intuitive drive to create anymore, that art will just be work and nothing more. However, I am even more afraid of not having a creative job. Like many creatives, I fear that not pursuing a career in the arts will leave me feeling unfulfilled in my work and disconnected from myself. Of course, this is very binary thinking, and while I want to believe that it is completely irrational, I have seen and experienced creative burnout within SHEI itself. Meeting deadlines and expectations can suck the energy and creative juices out of our members. We get lost in churning out content, following the existing publication structure, getting swept up in the routine of conceptualization, photoshoot planning, editing, designing, writing and revising. We end up creating more and more distance between our heart space––our creative energy and the original reason we joined SHEI––and where we are now, putting one foot in front of the other to publish content that represents SHEI and aligns with its brand. While I believe that this burnout is somewhat inevitable, and that routine is important for efficiency and workflow, I also believe we must protect our creative energies. SHEI is a microcosm of the work world, one that requires cross-collaboration, personal creativity, organizational and administrative tasks, and adherence to strict deadlines. These tasks make it possible for SHEI to remain consistent and to flourish. However, they also remind us that we must put practices into place now, before we enter an even more intense work environment, that tend to our internal creative flames and sustain our energies. That’s why we create these annual SHEI Independent Project issues––not only to honor our members’ individuality and personal styles, but also to foster a space for the beautiful passion that brought us here in the first place. Personal projects are the newspaper when the fire is dying and the wood is damp from the rain. They have great power to keep our love for art alive, prevent burnout, to remind us why we may want a creative job, and to make creativity accessible if it can’t be our fulltime job. They allow us to temporarily quiet our fears and guide us back to our heart space, where we can create without expectations.

Alex Andersen Editor-In-Chief

TH H E E D IT TOR S I

cry at the start of every movie / I guess ‘cause I wish I was making things, too. So go the opening lyrics of “Working for the Knife,” the lead single from Mitski’s sixth album, Laurel Hell. Of the track, Mitski told Rolling Stone, “it’s about going from being a kid with a dream, to a grown up with a job, and feeling that somewhere along the way you got left behind.” Amidst synth-heavy instrumentals and her monotonous chant sits a dilemma we all inevitably face—how can we truly live our lives for ourselves? “If you do what you love, you’ll never work a day in your life.” A wishful sentiment we’ve all heard and, likely, seen through. This myth has led to the demise of many artists, particularly because of the friction that Mitski’s metaphorical “knife” represents. Oppressive forces, whether they’re capitalism, mental illness, aging, or any array of social pressures, perpetuate the division of necessity and pleasure in our lives, the former almost always outweighing the later, leaving us feeling backed into a corner even by the work we once thought we loved. As the days left of my college career continue to dwindle, I refuse to accept that time spent working can’t be time spent for myself. Admittedly, it’s a difficult cycle to break: an unfinished oil portrait glares at me from across my bedroom, bare canvas from the neck down; the promise I made to myself last summer to journal every day slips away for weeks at a time. Yet still, when I need an escape, I look to art. Independent projects, such as those pasted together throughout this issue, are that break from reality. The writing done in private notebooks, drawings sketched on found scraps of paper, art made on seemingly stolen time—it’s the work I do for myself that feels the most rewarding. It’s this work that we must always make time for.

Lauren Champlin Digital Features Editor 5

SHOOT DIRECTOR DANTE YGLESIAS PRODUCTION ASSISTANT CHRISTIAN PERNICANO STYLIST NATALIE THORNTON PHOTOGRAPHER DANTE YGLESIAS GRAPHIC DESIGNER NICOLE KIM MODELS GRACE DAVISON JESS BRANDS DISCO DIME UNI & UMI NATALIE THORNTON 7

was born and raised in Metro Detroit and have been involved with small, independent fashion companies since the beginning of my career as a photographer. I have been aware of the fashion companies involved in this project for the past year and knew that bringing them all together for this would require a theme/era that would make their collaboration cohesive. Hence, I noticed that all 3 are heavily influenced by the colorful and bold era of Y2K fashion. Sophia Moreno is a recent graduate of Wayne State University with a bachelor’s degree in Graphic Design and is the owner of Disco Dime (Instagram: disco_dime). Jess Bladow is a recent graduate of College for Creative Studies in Detroit with a degree in Illustration including a minor in Creative Writing. Natalie Thornton is a student at Schoolcraft College and is currently preparing to transfer into the STAMPS BFA program at the University of Michigan. The earrings are all supplied from Uni & Umi, the “Dump Him!” and “too hot 2 work” tops are supplied from Disco Dime, and the pink pants (not skirt) featured were supplied by Natalie Thornton.

reating is messy. There are times that I absolutely hate what I create and can’t stand looking at it. Then, there are other times when I can’t help but show anyone and everyone my art. This rollercoaster of love and hate deters people from art. They’ll say, “I’m not creative” or “I can’t do art.” But, we know deep down that we all hold the ability to create. Those who are resilient enough to push through the ups and downs will find that art is a tool to help us see and express ourselves. I spontaneously created this self-portrait series by combining three of my favorite mediums of expression— photography, painting, and modeling– to demonstrate the rollercoaster of art, the feelings of doubt, and the messiness of it all. PHOTOGRAPHER LAYLA JAWAD GRAPHIC DESIGNER EMMA PETERSON MODEL LAYLA JAWAD

PHOTOGRAPHER ALEX ANDERSEN STYLISTS ALEX ANDERSEN KARLY MADEY GRAPHIC DESIGNER ALEX ANDERSEN MODEL KARLY MADEY

PHOTOGRAPHER NOLAN LOPEZ WRITER CATHERINE HEHER MODELS HANNAH BIGRIGG SOPHIE PHILLIPS LENA KIM GRAPHIC DESIGNER SANDY CHANG COLLABORATORS CHARLOTTE FOLEY LAUREN KING KAYLAN MITCHELL 25

very piece of clothing has its own unique story. It is a canvas of various owners, uses, concerts and house parties, a stray run of stitching from when it was a mother’s shirt and not a toddler’s dress. That red statement coat was sourced from the very bottom of a bin of clothes somebody’s grandmother decided to purge. Perhaps she picked it up in Chicago, a couple blocks away from her one bedroom apartment, the very first place she lived on her own. Maybe it was the mark of an activist, one who, even in the 1960s, could not bear the thought of wearing real fur. Maybe it was seen up on stage, or made a dozen road trips to Los Angeles. Maybe it lived so hard and fast that she could not bear to give away all those memories. But still, here it is today, in perfect condition, because some things were meant to last.

The “Maurice” print dress from the 1970s might have lived a quieter life than its counterparts, the singular party dress of a girl who did not like to go out much. It sat in hiding for decades, never getting to live up to the promises of its psychedelic print, never soaking up the sweat of night-out dancing or absorbing the stench of a cigarette smoked on the curb. But now it’s a relic, a masterpiece, about to enter its prime and remind everyone of the power of a second act.

Every piece of clothing has its own, unique story—at least in the world of The Getup Vintage. The Ann Arbor store has been in business for 17 years and sources all of its clothing via word of mouth. As a result, most of the clothes one might see in the store–or online at The Getup’s Etsy shop–come from southern Michigan, usually no more than a few hours away. Co-owner Kaylan Mitchell says her favorite part of the process is finding pieces, the “treasure hunt,” as she calls it. The Getup will often receive calls from people who have large bulks of clothing they want to sell, so it can truly be a hunt to find the best items. The Getup does everything: from sourcing, to restoration, to cleaning, to finally marketing and selling the clothes. It is a labor of love for the staff. Intrinsic to this process is a passion for high quality clothing and rare, storied finds. That said, the true purpose of the store rests in a desire to promote ethical fashion, with the primary mission of promoting sustainability. Buying secondhand clothing, recycling and upcycling the pieces that already exist, is undeniably the most environmentally conscious way to shop.The Getup takes it a step further by ensuring that all of their clothing is cleaned with natural products and their shop is powered solely by renewable energy. That said, the environment is not the only thing one might consider when choosing to shop secondhand. Mitchell also notes the exploitative labor practices that are often behind fast fashion. It becomes a human rights issue as much as it is an environmental one, and the overlap that often exists between those two things cannot be ignored. It is no secret that vintage is an ethical alternative to the fast fashion companies that litter the industry landscape today. But as ethical fashion practices have become a more common discourse, many have rightfully argued

that it can be exclusionary and places too much responsibility on the consumer. Vintage is not always accessible; its pricepoint often exceeds that of inexpensive brands, and there is little control over which sizes are available. The Getup team has worked to combat some of these issues, notably size inclusivity. The shop has its own clothing line called the Cosmic Collection, which repurposes deadstock vintage fabrics into a variety of sizes in an effort to make sure everybody can wear vintage clothing. They are hoping to get another collection released in the fall. They also try to keep the shop itself fairly affordable, reserving more expensive, novelty pieces for the Etsy shop online. However, the real solution to unethical shopping practices will come in larger strides, the first being changing the way we think about fashion fundamentally. Alyssa Moran, who oversees the Etsy shop, emphasizes the idea of quality over quantity. “One way to think about it is that you can buy six pairs of pants for 10 dollars or you can buy one pair for 60,” she says. At the root of this ideology is the reality that most fast fashion clothes are not made to last. Vintage, on the other hand, has held up for years, if not decades. At shops like The Getup Vintage, a customer is paying for that quality. Part of this solution also includes slowing down trend cycles. In today’s world, something that is trendy right now might be off-trend in a few month’s time. This reality can make it difficult to shop for the long-term, though more and more it seems people today are interested in shopping for an enduring style rather than an immediate trend. Mitchell says she has seen this play out in the store, where an increasing number of customers are excited by the prospect of buying secondhand. Six or so years ago, however, there were far more people turned off by the idea of wearing used clothing.

The Getup continues to expand at a hopeful time for the future of sustainable fashion. Gen Z possesses a desire to “slow down,” not only fashion, but consumerism in general. There is also growing concern for the environment and the future of our planet. In many ways there is a pervasive sense of “unsustainability” that has crept into all aspects of life, one that mirrors current fashion trends. Perhaps we should put more effort, more time, and more money into a smaller number of things that actually matter to us.

Ultimately, operations like The Getup ask the important questions about what we want fashion to be. At its worst, fashion is the ultimate mark of consumerism, driven by status symbols and wastefulness. But at its best, it is an art, the truest form of personal expression we have at our disposal. In this sense, fashion is about intention. Each piece of clothing is meaningful and thoughtfully curated, an investment in the future yet a portrait of the past. That is what it feels like to be at The Getup Vintage.

1DERFUL

by bryan wilson

PHOTOGRAPHER EMILY HAYMAN STYLIST BRYAN WILSON GRAPHIC DESIGNER EMMA PETERSON MODELS ELYJAH WILSON BRIARRE JOHNSON NINA RACHELLE CHRISTINA MERRILL BRYAN WILSON

here’s a poem by June Jordan, “Free Flight,” where she writes about finding herself awake at night, hungry for something she doesn’t have, making a list of things to do that starts with toilet paper. Then she asks, is this poem on my list? Followed by, light bulbs lemons envelopes ballpoint refill / post office and zucchini / oranges no / it’s not.1 Pages marked with highlights. The story reenacted for posterity. Photos retouched for accuracy. Events (an ordering). This is how it was and it wasn’t and how it really was.2 I said a lot of people spent their lives trying to make things last as a way of avoiding asking themselves whether those things were what they really wanted.3 Earlier, my mother had asked about a book I was reading, and I explained that it was a modern retelling of a Greek myth. I said that for a long time, I loved these stories. In part, it was because they had an eternal metaphoric quality that you could use to speak for almost anything in life: love, death, beauty, grief, fate, funerals. I said it was almost like how painters had once used the camera obscura: by looking indirectly at the things they wanted to focus on, they were sometimes able to see it even more clearly.4 Alexander Pope identified a central function of poetry as taking thoughts we experience as halfformed and giving them clear expression. In other words, a fugitive and elusive part of our own thinking, our own experience, is taken up, edited, and returned to us better than it was before, so that we feel, at last, that we know ourselves.5 What I have sought in love is a reprieve from the itch of consciousness—to transcend myself and my

1 Biss, Eula. 2021. Having and Being Had. N.p.: Penguin Publishing Group. 2 Obejas, Achy. 2021. Boomerang / Bumerán: Poetry / Poesía. Translated by Achy Obejas. N.p.: Beacon Press. 3 Cusk, Rachel. 2018. Transit. N.p.: Faber & Faber. 4 Au, Jessica. 2022. Cold Enough for Snow. N.p.: New Directions Publishing Corporation. 5 Botton, Alain, and John Armstrong. 2016. Art as Therapy. N.p.: Phaidon Press.

human imperfections—but this has yet to happen.6 When Ruth had read this, she’d felt a jolt of recognition.7 Later, you will confuse the beginning and end of the journey, the packing and the unpacking and repacking of your bags. You will forget what you brought to give away and what you brought to put back in its proper place. Le olvido que todo destruye. You will be confused about what to take, what to accept, what to leave behind. You will weep while 6 Broder, Melissa. 2016. So Sad Today: Personal Essays. N.p.: Grand Central Publishing. 7 Ozeki, Ruth. 2013. A Tale for the Time Being. N.p.: Penguin Publishing Group.

walking on the boulevards.2 Sometimes we weep in front of a mirror not to inflame self-pity, but because we want to feel witnessed in our despair. (can a reflection be a witness?)8 It was perfectly possible to become prisoner of an artist’s vision, I said. Like love, I said, being understood creates the fear that you will never be understood again.3 Now the same horizon as yesterday, orange instead of blue. Repeat, repeat, ad infinitum.2 It is good, after all, to be away from what is yours.9 I don’t go to the movies anymore. When we look at the screen all we see is ourselves. So what is there to fall into or be consumed by? When looking at something that purports to be you, all you can do is comment 8 Nelson, Maggie. 2009. Bluets. N.p.: Wave Books. 9 Cusk, Rachel. 2011. The Bradshaw Variations: A Novel. N.p.: Picador.

on whether you feel it is a good resemblance or not. Is it a flattering portrait?8 He told me that a poem he’d written, which I’d admired, he’d written for me. The little kid in me erupted. She said, you see me. I am finally seen. It takes so little, really.6 A recent theory of the symbolic, that of literary critic Kenneth Burke, is associated with the idea of “dramatism.” Burke holds that man tries to control and humanize his world by means of symbolism. Symbols and symbolic structures in art are not only typically human, he finds, but all forms of symbolism, even metaphor, must derive ultimately

A FOUND ESSAY

from the senses.10 Write a new story to be read in the days to come. Then listen: Listen to the stories others have written and that are read aloud like a song.2 It’s a strange thought, that personal identity and qualities of the mind and character can be discovered not only in people, but also in objects, landscapes, jars or boxes. In a strange way, the picture is filled with a sense of delight in existence expressed quietly. It is not the light in itself that is so attractive; rather, it is the condition of the soul it evinces.5 We want whoever to call or not call, a letter, a kiss— we want more and more and then more of it. But there are moments, walking, when I catch a glimpse of myself in the window glass, and I’m gripped by a 10 Styan, J. L. 1981. Modern Drama in Theory and Practice: Volume 2, Symbolism, Surrealism and the Absurd. Edited by J. L. Styan. N.p.: Cambridge University Press.

cherishing so deep for my own blowing hair, chapped face, and unbuttoned coat that I’m speechless: I am living.11 Does an album of written thoughts perform a similar displacement, or replacement, of the “original” thoughts themselves?8 Life doesn’t teach us much, it seems, for here she was, starting all over again.12 For better or worse, I do not think that writing changes things very much, if at all. For the most part, I think it leaves everything as it is. What does your poetry do?—I guess it gives a kind of blue rinse to the language.8 C’est peut-être ça, la vie, la vraie vie, c’est embrasser les êtres, les éléments, ne faire qu’un avec ce qui entoure, se faire traverser, pénétrer, tout prendre, tout garder, ne rien refuser, se laisser faire pour une fois.13 What if art was not measured by quantity but ricochets? What if art was not measured?14 The piece you just read was composed entirely of quotes: modeled after a found poem, it is solely made up of pre-existing texts, a pondering on creativity. When everything has already been written about (and written about beautifully, at that), what could I write? How could my voice ever be enough? In a world which quantifies individuality, how could I justify my writing if it’s already been done? And how could I ever express all of this when it felt like I didn’t have the words? These frustrations are exactly what this piece explores. Its form allows for innate freedom: it feels intrinsically creative to collect these scraps of written works, and to rearrange them into my own voice. Indeed, creativity is ultimately about balance. It is both input and output. This piece embraces the universality of our sentiments—it celebrates and utilizes art as a lens through which to both refract and construct our circumstances. 11 Howe, Marie. 1999. What the Living Do. N.p.: W. W. Norton. 12 Serre, Anne. 2021. The Beginners. Translated by Mark Hutchinson. N.p.: New Directions Publishing Corporation. 13 Bouraoui, Nina. 2020. Otages. N.p.: JC Lattès. 14 Vuong, Ocean. 2021. On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous: A Novel. N.p.: Penguin Publishing Group.

WRITTEN BY TIARA PARTSCH GRAPHIC DESIGNER GABI MECHABER 33

PHOTOGRAPHER VERA TIKHONOVA GRAPHIC DESIGNER KAI HUIE

Three Hundred Seventy-One Days Christmas, 2020 Smug as always. Proud of himself as always. Carefree as always. Always—that’s how often he’d flatter himself, patting his own back and feeling marvelous about a job well done. It’s how often you’d see him laughing, cracking jokes, and sharing his contagious smile with everyone in the room. He’d made bread from scratch that day for the first time. Bruschetta, with nothing but the guidance of his daughter. He’d cooked before but never quite like this. I love making bread, Meera. I’m going to keep making it for me and Amma even when you’re away at college.

Plane trip, 2021 A few drinks down. A sly smile ornamented his face. He was talking a little too loud on the plane, but it was okay. It was okay because he didn’t care. He was the man that would sarcastically scream “WOW!” at the poorly constructed dinosaurs in the mall regardless of who was around. The man who would dance like there was no tomorrow at every celebration. The man who taught me that it didn’t really matter what other people thought, not as long as you were having a good time. He was traveling to a country where his son had already put down roots, where his daughter would soon live, that was eight thousand miles away from the place he called home. He was happy, though, that he’d been able to give his children this great life, even if it was so far away from him. He knew what it was like to live in this country—how much his children could thrive there, the dreams they could achieve. Of course, he worried. What if something happens and we have to fly forty-eight hours to help? It’s okay, Dad. We’ll be okay.

August run, 2021 Not one day could he go without a run. And with every run came a new picture. Often an opportunity for us to mock his selfie-taking skills. Regardless, he did love to take those pictures. To recount the places he’d been, to show his wife and kids who would only be awake to see them hours later. To collect all the memories of all the hundreds of runs. Dozens of medals from running events decorated the walls of his room. Every day, he’d tell us proudly how far he’d gone. The day could only start after his morning run. Oh, how much he loved to run. He’d tell me Meera I haven’t run in three days, I feel just downright terrible.

WRITTEN BY MEERA KUMAR GRAPHIC DESIGNER GABI MECHABER

New Years, 2021 What should we do for the New Year? They’d say. Maybe a vacation? Or a party with our friends? We certainly can’t just stay home. Every single year, they’d suggest an elaborate plan to celebrate moving into the next. Every year but this year. This year, she was too scared to let him drink even a soda. I helped him hold a glass of juice so we could take a picture. We put up string lights, our own little form of celebration. We paused the Malayalam movie a few seconds before the clock hit 12. We clinked glasses, took a sip, and played the movie again. He apologized over and over. He had a bandage around his neck, a bruise on his nose, a half-hearted smile on his face, and he was the one who apologized. It’s okay, Dad. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Christmas Eve, 2021 He didn’t know. He didn’t know when he wore that peach shirt that he would drink a maroon drink that would lead to red blood. He didn’t know that wearing a suit would become a dream and wearing even a T-shirt would be a struggle. That holding a glass would be impossible for months. That standing up would be a luxury only experienced after four weeks. That everything he was doing in that picture would become a difficulty, a chore, an effort. The next day, there would be banging on doors and breaking down locks to make sure he was breathing. There would be neighbors running, blankets stained, and parents sobbing. The bathroom floor forever stained with the memories of that terrifying morning, never to be looked at the same way by his family. For months after that night, he’d be lying in a bed, living life the same way his mother does, the way he never wanted to. His wife’s smile and his daughter’s jokes would turn the next day into endless tears and panic attacks. His own carefree smile wouldn’t truly return for months. That night’s dehydration, something he’d always dismissed as a minor inconvenience, would be the reason his entire life changes. He didn’t know that the marathon-runner, the cook, the coffee expert, the favorite mentor, the amazing dad, and the success story would soon be a man on a bed, a brace around his neck, with the inability to move a finger.

A big little update, 2022 He’s standing. He’s walking. He’s smiling. He’s not the man he once was; maybe he never will be. He is doing better, making progress. He’s giving himself the second chance he deserves. I couldn’t be there for every step of progress, but I saw it through the pictures, the videos, the FaceTime calls. I couldn’t always be there, but that doesn’t really matter. What really matters is that smile. I can’t stop smiling, Dad. I really just can’t stop smiling.

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PHOTOGRAPHER EBBA GURNEY GRAPHIC DESIGNER KALI FRANCISCO MODELS NATALIE BELL MARIVI HOLDER

THE

REAL WORLD

PHOTOGRAPHER UDOKA NWANSI GRAPHIC DESIGNER KIMI LILLIOS MODELS JADYN ADAMS NINA WALKER HEBA

SP/LIT

SCORE

STYLIST SAM MCLEOD PHOTOGRAPHER GABRIELLE MACK GRAPHIC DESIGNER MARGARET LAAKSO MODEL NANDINI KOMMINENI

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