Flux, n.
“The natural state. Our moods change. Our lives change. Our feelings for each other change. Our bearings change. The song changes. The air changes. The temperature of the shower changes.
Accept this. We must accept this.”
– The Lover’s Dictionary, David Levithan
Levithan, David. The Lover’s Dictionary: A Novel United Kingdom: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2011.EDITOR-IN-CHIEF Sophie Hamblen
ASSISTANT EDITOR-IN-CHIEF Lillian Dent
CREATIVE DIRECTOR Emma Soefker
ASSISTANT CREATIVE DIRECTOR Sophia Nimmo
EXTERNALS DIRECTOR Emily Redden
FASHION DIRECTOR Anya Geistert
STYLISTS San
Faith Porter
Madeline Aiken
Kaylee Logan
Keira Thorpe
PRODUCTION DIRECTOR Madelene Leigh
PRODUCTION ASSISTANTS Ansley Adcock
Lauren Young
Bree Schut
Gekayla Shumake
ART DIRECTOR Rook Tilley
GRAPHIC DESIGNERS
Taylor Rose
Bella Moss
Yamman Dean Azzouz
DIGITAL DIRECTOR Lauren Young
HAIR AND MAKEUP ARTISTS San
Madeline Aiken
Ansley Adcock
PHOTOGRAPHERS Mila Bales
Maya Stewart
Devynee O’Neal
VIDEOGRAPHER Maya Stewart
WRITING DIRECTOR Jane Dodge
WRITERS Rebecca Morgan
Kushi Zaver
Knia Robinson
Sunshine Finnell
Jade Pierce
Mychael Allen-Fennessee
Matt McAllister
COPY EDITOR
Sarah Singleton
MARKETING DIRECTOR Lily Sparkman
MARKETING ASSISTANTS Addi Bingham
Taylor Waldron
Bella Moss
PUBLIC RELATIONS DIRECTOR Madison McKissack
PR ASSISTANTS Gavin Richards
Kate Barnes
Rylee Ridner
Julian Childress
Mackenzie Sweat
SOCIAL MEDIA DIRECTOR Kat Ray
SOCIAL MEDIA ASSISTANTS Mia Cadaret Addi Bingham
FINANCE DIRECTORS Carli Todd
Deja Aguirre
Editor-in-Chief
Emily
Externals Director
Emma
Creative Director
Redden
Soefker
i. Lift as You Climb by Mychael
i. I Will Wash Your Feet Until Mine Are Dirty Too by
A series inspired by conversations between two friends.
One day, you find yourself questioning your own life’s instability that is contrasted so violently by your other classmate’s stability. Why does your mommy have to work so late? Why does your grandma sleep on the kitchen floor? Why do your shoes have holes in them? You pace your house looking for proof that you are no different from anyone else. One day, you find yourself out the back door, pacing in a garden of escapism.
N: I deeply felt the inconsistencies within my childhood. It was always a toss up between which bills would get paid and whether the coin flip read electricity or running water. As I grew up, I steadily learned what a basic human necessity was, and even more speedily grasped the knowledge of how to live without it.
In the midst of these dissonance events, I’d recall returning to the persimmon tree in my garden. Year after year, season after season. Its roots grew harmonious with my own. And in the wake of every uncertainty of my own adolescent life, I grasped onto what I knew to be true: every April I could pick a persimmon from this tree and in 13 years time I would get the hell out of this backyard.
My childhood emerged as one filled with shame and resentment. I was all too mindful of the decaying on my house’s exterior and countless birthdays never celebrated. The humiliation of witnessing happy families on Christmas was enough to instill in me the pursuit of removing myself as far as possible from the life I knew.
It would take me twenty-two years to perceive this endless pursuit as one congested with naivety from the start. I convinced myself for so long that if I withdrew myself from poverty and a fragmented family that I would never be obliged to think about those days again.
As I grew from the wreckage of my childhood and into a more stable home, I discovered a newfound appreciation for my fatigued upbringing. Every warm meal and hot bath teaches me to find comfort in the present. For I know what it’s like to live in both the warmth and sharp cold.
And every now and then, I remind myself by driving back to 51st and Buelah, where the persimmon tree still sits.
One day, you realize you aren’t confined to the identity the world frames you by. The outside voices become muted as you permit a deeper look inside. Who are you when no one is looking? When you have nothing to prove? When you remove the mask? One day, you piece together fragments of yourself thought to be lost, parts you never knew existed.
N: Some summers ago, I found myself endlessly perched at my desk, surmising the future I wanted to hold. I devoted my life to bettering myself rather than laying victim to any falsities I once believed. In real-time, I witnessed myself becoming a person I felt more aligned with. It was a forceful moment at my age when I could look in the mirror and be proud of who I was.
Unfortunately for me, the person was “Nadia Danielle Weaver.” The endless cycle of repeatedly signing this name, document after document, lingered heavy on my heart. My last name was my father’s surname, and my middle name was an extension of his own first name: Daniel. Consequently, the more that “Nadia Danielle Weaver” appeared in rooms I fought to be in, the more displeased I became with such a title.
On July 1st of 2022, I decided to leave work early and repair the disconnect I felt with my identity. Pen in hand, I found myself at the Chattanooga Courthouse. For the first time in my life, I signed my name “Nadia San.” Legally changing my name to my mother’s maiden name and Cambodian surname instilled a deeper fire within my own identity.
My grandmother, Sinat San, immigrated to the United States from Cambodia during the Khmer Rouge. This horrific genocide killed approximately 2 million Cambodians, about 25% of its population. As Sinat watched her homeland fall to rubble, she fought parallel to the war in her efforts to protect seven children as her husband was taken hostage.
It would take years of living in refugee camps before Sinat brought her seven children to the States. Even upon arrival, my grandmother’s efforts towards her people were never obstructed. She worked 16-hour shifts, 6 days a week in a rope factory. And on her one day off each Sunday, my mom drove Sinat down to the Asian markets in Atlanta. My grandmother always brought back food for other Cambodian immigrants in need, those who were desperately trying to make sense of life in America. There are endless anecdotes about how my grandmother worked tirelessly to give back to her people, until the day she died.
Since changing my name, I identify more with my Cambodian heritage and hold my grandmother closest to my heart. I am the daughter of an immigrant and the granddaughter of a relentless woman who guided her family through genocide and across the Pacific ocean.
I am Nadia San.
Like tides guiding ships through treacherous waters, social media algorithms, including those steering the FYP, wield immense power in shaping users’ perceptions and priorities. Once dominated by traditional media outlets, the seas of public discourse now bow to the influence
of social media platforms. This algorithmic navigation sparks a storm of implications for agenda-setting. By favoring certain topics, themes, or creators, social media platforms can steer the ship of collective attention toward specific issues and narratives. The viral currents of platforms like TikTok amplify this effect,
propelling popular content far and wide, shaping the waves of collective discourse. Yet, beneath the surface, there lies a perilous undercurrent.
The FYP’s algorithmic compasses can create filter bubbles and echo chambers, confining users to their own ideological harbors. This selective exposure further empowers social media algorithms to mold the landscape of public discourse, leaving users adrift in seas of sameness, isolated from diverse perspectives and alternative viewpoints. Yet amidst this digital tumult, there is the potential for change. By acknowledging the power of algorithms
and media influence, we can begin to navigate these complexities with greater awareness and resilience. Through critical thinking and intentional engagement, we can empower ourselves and future generations to navigate the digital landscape with clarity and purpose.
They expect me to give,
They want me to believe everything they’re telling me I feel like a cloth that is ripping at its seems They’ve broken the brilliant parts of me I wait because I want to see To know if they’ll come after me
I can’t distinguish between real and fake They expect me to give, all they do is take
Should I listen more
Should I sit in silence It was loud before Now the world is quiet
all they do is take
Are they done yelling?
Or will they keep pushing ‘til I buy what they’re selling?
They want me to change myself, change the way I made myself
Now I sit alone like books left on dusty shelves
Their voices rise from a soft place
And it grows with anger
To fill the space
And this time it sounded familiar
And less like a stranger
I knew the face
One day, you find yourself wanting more. A city that demands uncomfort. A city that urges growth. A city insistent on confronting you with your deepest insecurities. How much space do you take up? Do you wear less makeup? How long does your skirt need to fall? One day, you find yourself knee deep in a meeting room looking for answers.
N: I’ve spent the better half of my life knocking on doors in pursuit of noble opportunities. Resilient to many no’s and unyielding in my stride towards success, I eventually found myself in rooms I fought to be in. Remarkably so, the battle did not end there.
I had to navigate being a woman in many rooms dominated by men. In an effort to conform and erase any feelings of discomfort, I found myself simulating the energy of the room. My posture and verbiage soon reflected that of a man.
I would leave my femininity at the door and brace myself for habitual masculine conformity.
Since then, many rooms have come and gone parallel to my changing beliefs as a woman. I have learned the significance of supporting people in how they choose to present themselves. And for me, that is being unapologetically feminine. I loathe the idea of other women inorganically presenting themselves as masculine in order to appear powerful within a professional environment.
Such a misstep taught me a much deeper truth: being a woman and being respected is never mutually exclusive. If a woman solely wants to erode femininity, so be it. Oftentimes the world expects women to adapt to their expectations and standards.
So the next room you find yourself in, take up space and step in as yourself, unapologetically.
Because when you are a woman who knows your worth, interestingly enough you will see the world adapt to you.
Just like a tank top being deemed too inappropriate for its thin spaghetti straps in the summer blazing heat.
Aching at the eyes that stare like daggers inspecting every little aspect of your body.
Wanting to shrivel into safety. To grow luminously is daunting, but it must be done.
That is why today the modern woman is now unafraid:
To stand her ground, to call out men’s bad behaviors, to grow where she is known.
For her heart is fierce, her soul flies free and dances in the sky like a million seeds scattering the goodness of femininity.
The dandelion extends beyond the pretty face they said she had Or the body they said she needed to hide, fix, or flaunt.
Rebuild the broken walls they tore down around you. And instead:
Women bound by laws and customs and a society that degrades and restrains them, making them unable to leave.
Despite these adversities like discriminatory policies, unequal pay, and structural inequalities across developing nations that accompany the feminine condition, women’s presence in the first place is worth celebrating. Women were made to lead; generations of women before us were groomed to notice the delicate details of interpersonal relationships, social order, and communicative nuances that are all incredibly applicable to effective leadership. Thus, women should be more present in the workforce. Representation of any kind is important as it shapes our reality and normalizes the presence of women in not only the workplace but also in leadership roles. There are many new opportunities open to women today and the path to success continues to become more equitable as women and men fight harder for representation in the workplace. As companies continue to focus on diversity, equity, and inclusion we will hopefully see greater representation of all people including women, the LGBT+ community, and intersectionality as a whole.
One day, someone unknowingly enters your life and completely shifts your axis. Friend, family, lover, stranger. Where everyone else misstepped, they provided an anchor for you to hold. Each broken banner mended by the arms embracing you.
N: At 16 years old, my mom informed me we’d be moving in with my cousin, Ahni, and her two young children. Jamey was just shy of two, while Elias was only 10-months old. I assumed it would be a short stint, one of many times we moved from here to there.
Present day, and I still live with Ahni and her two children. Seven years of Christmas presents under the tree, seven years of full bellies around the table.
When I envision love and a life worth living, I’m reminded of all the mornings I’ve been woken by runny noses and kisses on the cheek. Over the years, these seemingly ordinary moments with Jamey and Elias have felt the most sacred and fundamental to my being.
Each moment on each day, all 2,234 of them.
As for Ahni, the complexity of our relationship goes beyond that of a cousin.
When I shamefully gossip to her late at night, she hangs onto my words like a sister. When I need help moving my dresser across the room, she’s holding up the other end like a father.
When I’ve come home after a long day to see a warm plate of food, she’s waiting for me like a mother.
And when I need a shoulder to cry on, she wraps her arms around me like a friend.
Intertwined, I found my entire being woven into theirs.
And intertwined we’ll be, 2,234 more moments, Ahni, Jamey, Elias McGee.
One day, you pick apart your own life to find lessons in the missteps. Ever hostile towards inconsistencies, you learn to ameliorate the mess of it all. And one day, as you begin to build your own stairwell and stumble over missteps, please don’t ever stop asking for my hand.
N: Dear Jamey and Elias,
As you grow up, I will have a million and one dreams for you.
I hope you seek the discomfort in change. I hope you cherish the stories of strangers. I hope you lead with love and lean on peace.
But more than anything, I desperately hope that as you grow up, you allow yourself to constantly redefine who you are.
There will be constant change surrounding you and within you, so learn to live with the ever-altering, multi-faceted versions of yourself. The only constant that will remain is change itself.
I wish that you instill enough confidence in yourself to know that you never have to hold all the answers, only enough trust in yourself that you’ll figure it out along the way.
And it will feel easy to adapt accordingly when there’s chaos in the world and voices louder than your own telling you who to be. But, if you have to choose to be anything, be unapologetically redefining who you are.
My greatest joy in life is witnessing you grow up and into yourself. I hope that with each step you take, you’ll remember to look down and see me lifting you higher. And I hope that with each step forward, you’ll look up and discover the world cheering you on.
Love you a million and one, NaNa
The fruit you seek seems rotten when there is ripe opportunity
For the pale skin and clever tongue.
I know this world’s hunger. But I kept you from it. You know no pain that I did Cold nights in a peopled house not large enough. I was grown when you came. On your first day, I was there. You cried when it was the sound I yearned for among the beeps and pressured words.
We are not the same. Why do you cry now?
You say you don’t know me when I wear your face and Your bouncing leg. You know the smiling set of feet running. You know the tastes for which my mouth waters. Maybe we are not the same. But on your last day I will be there.
I will cradle you like you held me.
what
S: Dear Nadia,
It’s true we only met sixteen months ago, such a short time for someone to become so important to me. Yet our time together has led to this sacred collection of conversations documented here in this magazine. Meeting you has reminded me to appreciate each stage of life amidst its uncertainties. Meeting you has reminded me to cherish the teachings of others. Meeting you has reminded me of the beauty of sharing stories and the importance of having a curious mind while doing so. Our friendship signifies a special piece to my own story, so thank you for contributing to this work of art, capturing the beauty within change. Sixteen months ago you were a total stranger, and now you are my best friend whose story inspires me everyday, reminding me to find peace in the inevitable state of flux in which we all exist.
X, Sophie
Sophie Hamblen
Sophia Nimmo
Anya Geistert
Madalene Leigh
Lauren Young
Emily Redden
Emma Soefker
Lillian Dent
Rook Tilley
Taylor Rose
Yamman
Dean Azzouz
Kaylee Logan
Madeline Aiken San
Bree Schut
Ansley Adcock
Gekayla Shumake
Devynee O’Neal
Maya Stewart
Jane Dodge
Mychael Allen-Fennessee
NOT PICTURED
Bella Moss
Faith Porter
Keira Thorpe
Sarah Singleton
Matt McAllister
Julian Childress
Mackenzie Sweat Addi Bingham Carli Todd Jade Pierce Knia Robinson Kushi Zaver Rebecca Morgan Sunshine Finnell Madison McKissack Gavin Richards Kate Barnes Lily Sparkman Taylor Waldron Kat Ray Mia Cadaret Deja AguirreCONCEPT Sophie Hamblen
Nadia San
Emma Soefker
LEADER Madalene Leigh
STYLIST San
Faith Porter
PRODUCTION ASSISTANTS Madalene Leigh
Lauren Young
PHOTOGRAPHY Mila Bales
LAYOUT DESIGNER Emma Soefker
HAIR & MAKEUP San
JEWLERY San
MODELS
Viviana Ramos
Kiana Gikes
CONCEPT Sophie Hamblen
Nadia San
Emma Soefker
LEADER Sophia Nimmo
STYLIST Sophia Nimmo
Kaylee Logan
PRODUCTION ASSISTANTS Bree Schut
Lauren Young
PHOTOGRAPHY Dru Schenk
LAYOUT DESIGNER Rook Tilley
HAIR & MAKEUP Madeline Aiken
MODELS Fay Aregai
Mikayla Walker
CONCEPT Sophie Hamblen
Nadia San
Emma Soefker
LEADER Anya Geistert
STYLIST Anya Geistert
Keira Thorpe
PRODUCTION ASSISTANTS Madalene Leigh Gekayla Shumake
PHOTOGRAPHY Maya Stewart
LAYOUT DESIGNER Yamman Dean Azzouz
HAIR & MAKEUP Lillian Dent
Ansley Adcock
MODELS Camille Campbell
Jordan Fall
CONCEPT Sophie Hamblen
Nadia San
Emma Soefker
LEADER Lillian Dent
STYLIST Lillian Dent
Madeline Aiken
PRODUCTION ASSISTANTS Ansley Adcock
Gekayla Shumake
PHOTOGRAPHY Devynee O’Neal
Sophie Hamblen
LAYOUT DESIGNER Emma Soefker
HAIR & MAKEUP Lillian Dent
Ansley Adcock
MODELS Regan Morrisson
Maggie Bean
Sanaiya Whittaker
Carla Castillo
Jacob Logan
CONCEPT Sophie Hamblen
Nadia San
Emma Soefker
LEADER Rook Tilley
STYLIST Lillian Dent
Sophie Hamblen
PRODUCTION ASSISTANTS Ansley Adcock
Bree Schut
PHOTOGRAPHY Mila Bales
LAYOUT DESIGNER Rook Tilley
MODELS Ahni Vasterling
Heidi Vasterling
Elias McGee
Jamey Mcgee
Pam Vasterling
