MEET THE EDITORIAL BOARD
Sahana Narayan
FOUNDER & EDITOR IN CHIEF
Sahana Narayan is the Founder and Editor in Chief of 11 Seconds Magazine. She is an award-winning journalist, public health scholar, and aspiring physician.
Kira Zizzo
DIGITAL CONTENT EDITOR
Kira Zizzo is the Digital Content Editor of 11 Seconds Magazine. She is an accomplished journalist and Hesburgh Yusko Scholar at the University of Notre Dame.
Alex Ephstein
CREATIVE CONTENT EDITOR
Alex Epshtein is the Creative Content Editor of 11 Seconds Magazine. Alex is currently an MSc student at Imperial College London, studying Science Communication.
Liz Zonarich
VISUAL CONTENT EDITOR
Liz Zonarich is a graphic designer based out of Boston, MA. She is a recent graduate of the Master of Science in Media, Medicine, and Health program at Harvard Medical School.
Table of Contents
MEDIA
The
COMMUNITY
Learning to Swim in a Sea of Executive Orders Overwhelm is the Point Battling Anti-Intellectualism Trans
media
“The media’s the most powerful entity on earth. They have the power to make the innocent guilty and to make the guilty innocent, and that’s power. Because they control the minds of the masses.”
- Malcolm X
The Bloody Challenge - How Advertising & Media Shapes Societal Perceptions of Menstruation
By: Abigail Hyson
Menstruation, a natural biological process experienced by half of the global population, has long been influenced by how it is portrayed in media and advertisements. These portrayals have significantly shaped societal perceptions of menstruation, reinforcing stigma, stereotypes, and silence. From television ads for menstrual products to magazine spreads, social media campaigns, films, and television shows, these representations have perpetuated norms and expectations that impact healthcare practices and policies in ways that are often subtle but deeply influential.
Historical Portrayals: Silence and Stigma in Film, Television, and Advertisements
Historically, menstruation has been depicted in the media with an air of secrecy and shame. In classic television shows like I Love Lucy and The Brady Bunch, any mention of menstruation was clearly absent, reflecting the broader cultural reluctance to openly discuss the topic. When menstruation did appear in the media, it was often wrapped in euphemisms or treated as something to be hidden.
A notable example of this is the iconic 1976 horror film Carrie, based on Stephen King’s novel. The film opens with the protagonist, Carrie White, experiencing her first period in a high school locker room. The scene is depicted as horrifying and shameful, with Carrie unaware of what is happening to her and her peers cruelly mocking her. This portrayal reinforces the idea
of menstruation as a source of fear and ridicule, something that isolates women rather than unites them.
In contrast, early ads for products like Kotex and Tampax, particularly in the mid-20th century, emphasized discretion above all else. These advertisements often featured women dressed in pristine white clothing, engaging in everyday activities with the assurance that their period was “under control.” The message was clear: menstruation was something to be hidden, managed, and never openly discussed.
For example, Kotex ads from the 1950s and 1960s depicted women smiling and carefree, with taglines like “So discreet, you’ll never have to worry.” The emphasis on discretion reinforced the idea that menstruation was something shameful, a private matter that should be kept out of public view. This approach contributed to the broader cultural reluctance to openly discuss menstruation, fostering a sense of embarrassment and secrecy that has persisted for generations.
In contrast, menstrual product advertisements from the same era also used euphemisms like “feminine hygiene” to avoid directly mentioning menstruation. The language used in these ads—phrases like “that time of the month” or “feeling fresh”—further distanced the reality of menstruation from public discourse, reinforcing the stigma surrounding the subject. This culture of silence has had lasting effects on how
menstruation is perceived, discussed, and addressed in society. This culture of silence and stigma has had lasting effects on how menstruation is perceived and discussed in society. Women and girls have often been made to feel embarrassed about a natural process, leading to a lack of open discussion and understanding, and potentially neglecting menstrual health issues.
Reinforcing Stereotypes Through Advertising & In Popular Media
Beyond promoting silence, menstrual product advertisements have also contributed to reinforcing harmful stereotypes about menstruation and women’s health. Many ads have perpetuated the notion that menstruation is a source of embarrassment or inconvenience. For instance, the “Have a Happy Period” campaign by Always, launched in the early 2000s, attempted to put a positive spin on menstruation but ended up trivializing the experience. The suggestion that women should be “happy” during their periods downplayed the reality of menstrual pain, discomfort, and emotional fluctuations, reinforcing the stereotype that women should always remain composed and cheerful, regardless of their physical condition.
Similarly, commercials like those for Playtex Sport, which showed women participating in intense physical activities like gymnastics and surfing, emphasized the importance of staying active and “unaffected” by menstruation. While promoting an active lifestyle is positive, these ads often ignore the reality of menstrual discomfort and the diverse experiences women face during their periods. By focusing on the idea that women should be able to “power through”
their periods, these ads reinforced unrealistic expectations and contributed to the dismissal of genuine menstrual pain and health concerns. Media portrayals have also contributed to the reinforcement of harmful stereotypes about menstruation and women’s health. In television and film, menstruation is frequently depicted as a source of irrationality and emotional instability. For example, in the television show The Big Bang Theory, the character Sheldon Cooper makes several references to PMS as an excuse for women’s emotions, reinforcing the stereotype that women are overly emotional or unreasonable during their menstrual cycle.
In the film Superbad (2007), a scene in which a character accidentally gets menstrual blood on his pants during a dance further stigmatizes menstruation by playing it for laughs, emphasizing the “gross-out” factor and reinforcing the idea that menstruation is something dirty or embarrassing. These types of portrayals contribute to the perception that menstruation is something to be ridiculed or hidden, rather than a natural and important part of women’s health.
implications for how women’s health issues are perceived in the broader context. These advertisements contribute to the notion that menstruation is a burden, rather than a natural and important part of women’s health that deserves attention and care.
The Impact on Healthcare Practices and Policies
The influence of menstrual product advertisements extends beyond societal perceptions to impact healthcare practices and policies. The emphasis on discretion and concealment in these ads has contributed to a culture where menstrual health issues are often downplayed or ignored. For example, the trivialization of menstrual pain in advertisements may lead to the dismissal of symptoms by healthcare providers, resulting in delayed diagnosis and treatment for conditions like endometriosis or polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS).
Moreover, the stereotype of the “hormonal woman” has often been used to undermine women’s capabilities, as seen in the film Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy (2004). In one scene, the male characters joke about women being unable to handle stress or leadership roles due to their menstrual cycles, reflecting and reinforcing outdated gender norms that trivialize women’s experiences and undermine their authority.
The portrayal of menstruation as an inconvenience that must be concealed or overcome has
An example is the lack of attention given to menstrual health in medical dramas. Shows like Grey’s Anatomy have only rarely addressed menstrual disorders or the impact of menstruation on women’s overall health, often focusing more on dramatic, lifethreatening conditions rather than the chronic issues that affect many women daily. This lack of representation can lead to a general devaluation of menstrual health in the public consciousness and within the healthcare system. Furthermore, media representations can shape public perceptions of what constitutes “normal” menstrual health, leading to the normalization of symptoms that may indicate underlying health issues. This can discourage individuals from seeking medical advice or lead to inadequate healthcare policies that fail to address the full spectrum of menstrual health needs.
Progress and the Push for Change
Despite these challenges, there has been a growing movement to challenge and change how menstruation is portrayed in the media. Recent television shows and films have begun to address menstruation more openly and positively. For example, the animated series Big Mouth (2017) featured an entire episode dedicated to a character getting her first period. The show approached the subject with humor and honesty, aiming to normalize the experience rather than perpetuate shame. Similarly, the 2018 documentary Period. End of Sentence. brought global attention to the stigma surrounding menstruation and the challenges women face in accessing menstrual products, particularly in developing countries. The film won an Academy Award, highlighting the importance of addressing menstrual health openly and without shame.
On the advertisement side, the Thinx underwear brand has gained attention for its bold advertising campaigns that directly confront the stigma around menstruation. Their ads feature images of menstrual blood and slogans like “Why are periods still treated like they’re a dirty little secret?” Thinx’s approach represents a significant departure from traditional advertising norms, encouraging consumers to embrace their bodies and reject the shame often associated with menstruation.
Social media platforms have also provided a space for individuals to share their experiences and challenge the stereotypes perpetuated by traditional media. Hashtags like #PeriodPositive and #MenstruationMatters have gained traction, creating a community of individuals advocating for menstrual health awareness and equity. These platforms have allowed for the amplification of voices that have been historically marginalized in discussions of menstruation, including people of color, transgender and non-binary individuals, and those with disabilities.
Similarly, Bodyform’s “Blood Normal” campaign, launched in 2017, broke new ground by showing realistic depictions of menstrual blood in its ads. The campaign aimed to normalize menstruation by portraying it as a natural part of life, rather than something to be hidden or sanitized. This shift in advertising strategy reflects a broader cultural movement toward de-stigmatizing menstruation and promoting menstrual health as a vital aspect of women’s well-being.
The Need for Continued Change
While progress has been made, there is still much work to be done in challenging and changing how menstruation is portrayed in the media and advertising. The ongoing perpetuation of stigma and stereotypes continues to impact societal perceptions of menstruation and women’s health, with real consequences for healthcare practices and policies.
The push for more accurate and inclusive media representations of menstruation has also influenced policy changes. In 2015, the “Free the Tampon” campaign, which gained widespread attention through social media, successfully advocated for the removal of the “luxury” tax on menstrual products in several U.S. states. Similarly, the increasing visibility of menstrual health issues in the media has led to the introduction of policies aimed at providing free menstrual products in schools and workplaces.
To truly advance menstrual health and equity, media and advertising representations must evolve to reflect the realities of menstruation in all its complexity. This includes not only normalizing the conversation around menstruation but also addressing the diverse experiences of individuals who menstruate and the broader context of reproductive health. By challenging the narratives that have long shaped societal perceptions, we can create a more inclusive and informed approach to menstrual health, one that prioritizes the well-being of all individuals.
Unpause.
By: Anonymous
Pause.
Menopause is misunderstood. The word itself is misleading. It leads one to think there is a pause in menstruation. That couldn’t be further from reality.
Pause.
Menopause is unspoken. For generations, the very word has been taboo. Unspoken at the dinner table and barely whispered behind closed doors.
Pause.
Menopause is underrepresented in the media. It is a period (no pun intended) in life glazed over, without representation or normalization of the physical and psychological changes that occur.
Start.
Time to utilize the media to get the conversation started. Let’s start talking about menopause and get it in the open. By depicting menopause accurately in media, an understanding of this phase of life will blossom for those going through it as well as those around them.
Think about it… When was the last time a show portrayed a character between the ages of 4555 with crepe paper skin, brain fog, or a stiff tendon? How about a social media campaign that advertises products for hair loss, insomnia, and brittle nails, all related to menopause? Or a menopausal person having a chat with a friend over lunch sharing their issues with incontinence, anxiety, or body odor? It just doesn’t happen.
How are individuals to learn about the dozens of symptoms that can occur with menopause? It’s not going to happen at your annual gynecological exam, dental cleanings, or routine mole check.
Health care professionals just don’t have time in an exam to offer education on the bodily changes that will occur during menopause. At appointments, ask why your skin looks like party streamers or why your gums hurt for days. By engaging in those discussions, most will likely get some answers. Maybe.
Educational handouts or posters on the wall may decorate the exam room to fill the time while waiting. However, the images most likely won’t depict the symptoms of decreasing estrogen that many experience moving into menopause. As a result, patients are less likely to engage in dialogue with their healthcare provider. A key opportunity is missed to understand the changes that occur before and during menopause.
Amongst family and friends, often the menopause convo does not easily flow. Once a taboo topic, older generations are not always forthcoming with their menopausal experiences. Amid peers, menopause occurs at different ages and experiences are varied. Gradually, the topic may gently be broached. Slowly, the members of the club emerge. The storytelling begins, but often much too late.
So, where does one gain knowledge and understanding of menopause? Where are the role models for navigating menopause? How can one find representation and relatability as they approach menopause? Where is the media industry in all this?
Media can play a significant role in menopause awareness and get the conversation started. By portraying the symptoms experienced with menopause, there is an opportunity to educate the public on this overlooked phase of life.
With this understanding and awareness comes more effective management and treatments of symptoms and complications that can occur. This will lead patients to have impactful conversations with their healthcare providers, resulting in better care.
Media engages with the public on so many health topics. Let menopause be one of them. Representation of menopausal symptoms in mainstream media will facilitate a dialogue across family and friends, breaking the barrier. The exchange of experiences will create bonds,
decrease misconceptions and fear, and promote a greater understanding of one’s body.
Unpause.
It is time to start the conversation. Don’t leave menopause out of daily representation. Depict menopause as a part of life that it is. The media industry can make a difference by fostering awareness, understanding, and better management of menopause, allowing those going through this phase of life to thrive. Period (pun intended).
Between the Scenes: Finding Myself in a World That Won’t Look
By: V
Escapism. What does that look like for you? Daydreaming, reading, or even a vice such as alcohol and gambling? For me, it is being engulfed in a TV show or a movie. As someone who has a physical disability, my involvement in the real world is limited. Sometimes, even the most common and simple experiences, I have never had.
However, TV shows and movies allow me to live these life stories vicariously through the characters. It also allows me to gain exposure to various types of people, perspectives, and cultures. But, as I got older, I came to this realization that I have never seen someone like me on screen. No one has ever shared a story I could fully relate to. It makes me wonder how many times producers have gotten an opportunity to represent someone like me but chose not to because they didn’t feel it was worth it. Truthfully, it would remind many others like me that we are not alone and that itself should be enough of a reason to. Yet, to this day, I’ve never seen myself. After coming to this realization, is it really escapism when what I am escaping from isn’t even being acknowledged?
Life is arguably filled with main character moments. In every TV show and movie, the main character ends up in a relationship, lands the dream job, or discovers herself traveling with a group of her best friends. It isn’t fair that the main character is always able-bodied and is deemed deserving of all those moments because of that one simple fact. Ironically, the one movie I can think of with a tetraplegic and a love story, Me Before You has
the main character committing assisted suicide because he thinks a disabled life isn’t worth living. If we all already compare ourselves to the media, imagine how this must make a lot of us feel. Questioning my worth was a common part of my experience. I would always wonder why I couldn’t have it all. Worst of all, I would always have these hypothetical “what if’’ moments where I would imagine how different my life would be if I weren’t myself. As much as I enjoy media for entertainment and use it as a break from reality, it inevitably affects my mental health and my sense of self. It seems that individuals with disabilities need to work harder to have these main character moments while still struggling with the basic needs everyone else takes for granted. While most people have their entire lives to have these moments, time isn’t always on our side. Those who have degenerative medical conditions like myself have a race with time and I often wonder, “If I’m at my best now and it didn’t happen, how will it happen later?” As someone who has lost a lot of herself as a child, I can say I wouldn’t want this for anyone else, especially at that age.
Many people wouldn’t be as graceful.
Finding someone for myself and being in a relationship looks different for me than the usual dating scene. Living an isolated lifestyle, it is hard for me to meet new people, be it romantically or platonically. As for dating apps, they are not always accessible because they are only mobile-friendly. If by chance I do meet someone, them choosing me seems less likely because my “baggage” is
role and no networking, I started working in the Information Technology (IT) world. Although the IT industry is a necessity for the world now, I don’t think it is for me. I wasn’t interested in the work I was doing and I was not in a supportive work environment like I wanted to be in. One of my colleagues asked me, “How did they hire you if you can’t even figure out such a simple task?” Another one told me “I don’t think you can keep up with this project. It’s probably better if they find you something else.” Safe to say, I didn’t enjoy my last job. I’m looking to make a career change so hopefully, I end up where I am meant to be.
Traveling has been exciting to me since I was little. It makes me feel the most alive. There’s something about experiencing new places, people, and cultures that I find freeing. It’s the perfect way to figure out who I am and what I want and need. This would even be better with a supportive group of friends that can rely on each other. Logistically, traveling is difficult due to the aircraft not being accessibility friendly. Growing up and even now, I don’t have a friend group. I have cultivated strong individual friendships, but none as a group together. When I was younger, I was always left out because I couldn’t run around and play with the other kids. As we got older, the couple of friends I had were no longer friendly because they made new friends and I didn’t “fit in.” It ended up becoming a trigger for social anxiety so I struggle with friendships now even as an adult. Most TV shows, especially sitcoms with their quintessential codependent friend group, were a constant reminder of what I didn’t have. Nevertheless, Yeh Jawaani Hai Deewani and Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara, two Bollywood films that touch on family, friendship, travel, and living your life in the moment became comfort movies for me because it was the culmination of everything that was important to me. They were made so well that I felt I was part of the group and it was my adventure too. Media has its downsides, but it has its upsides too. But, I’ve also become an expert in looking for the story and the aspects of life depicted on screen that I want to be a part of.
It’s important to be compassionate and empathetic towards individuals with disabilities because the world is not designed to accommodate us. All it does is leave us behind. We need a little extra support but don’t treat us as if we’re different because we’re reminded of that every day anyway. We have the same emotions and we’re human too. We want to have the same experiences. We deserve our main character moments. I’m slowly trying to become more confident through positive self-talk, but I want there to be representation in the media for people like me, especially younger girls. It would help more than anyone would ever realize.
I want them to feel beautiful and wanted. I want them to feel like they could have it all and that they could do what they set their mind to. I want them to feel like they belong. I want them to know they’re not alone. I want them to have what my younger self needed. I have accepted (for the most part) that I’m one of a kind and that my life will always be a unique experience and timeline. I’m grateful for this one little life and the incredible support system I have built despite going through hardship. I have no idea what the future holds for me, but I’m going to welcome it with open arms. It might just make it easier if the media did the same thing; we don’t have to shy away from disability, we can embrace it!
“To create one’s own world takes courage.”
- Georgia O’Keeffe
“Art is not a mirror held up to reality but a hammer with which to shape it.”
- Bertolt Brecht
Art By: Liz Zonarich
Questioning Reality
By: Miranda Fedor
By:LizZonarich
“In a world so rife with vulgarity, with brutality and violence, love exists. I’m grateful to know that it exists.”
– Maya Angelou
community
Learning to Swim in a Sea of Executive Orders (And Nobody’s on Lifeguard Duty Today)
By: Bailey Merlin
In the United States, healthcare policy has long been a battlefield where executive orders act like grenades tossed into the system with little warning, leaving millions scrambling to survive the fallout. Under Trump’s second administration, a slew of executive orders have already taken aim at the Affordable Care Act (ACA), reproductive health, and LGBTQ+ protections. In a matter of weeks, the healthcare landscape has violently shifted beneath our feet. Some of these actions grabbed headlines. Others—quiet but equally devastating—eroded critical protections without much fanfare.
But here’s the thing: the media’s role in shaping these policies’ impact is undeniable. In an age of 24-hour news cycles and algorithm-driven content, what we perceive as reality is often shaped not by facts but by what gets the most clicks.
When healthcare news becomes another partisan flashpoint—or worse, when it’s ignored altogether—it leaves communities scrambling to figure out what’s true, what’s spin, and how to respond. This isn’t just about “what’s next” in U.S. healthcare policy. It’s about cutting through the noise before the next grenade detonates.
The Ripple Effects
Trump’s executive orders are not small adjustments; they are sweeping reversals of Biden-era policies that expanded healthcare access and strengthened
public health infrastructure. But here’s the trick: many of these changes aren’t front-page news. Coverage is often thin, sensationalized, or drowned out by whatever the latest Twitter beef (that’s right, I’m deadnaming Twitter) or political drama is.
And this lack of consistent coverage has realworld consequences. Most people won’t realize what’s been taken away until it’s too late—until they show up at a clinic and find the doors closed or get a letter telling them their health coverage is gone.
Bottom line: This shit is whack.
1. Erasing Trans Identities
On January 20, 2025, President Trump signed the executive order titled “Defending Women from Gender Ideology Extremism and Restoring Biological Truth to the Federal Government,” (seriously, calm down, edge lord) which mandates federal agencies to recognize only two immutable sexes, male and female. This directive effectively eliminates federal recognition and protections for transgender, non-binary, and gender-nonconforming individuals.
Impact? All of this seems rather catastrophic and immediate, right? But you wouldn’t know if you relied on cable news for coverage. While independent outlets like The 19th and Them.
us reported on the devastating consequences of this order, most mainstream media outlets barely touched the story—or buried it beneath clickbait headlines about political horse races. For trans and non-binary people, the consequences are brutal. Essential documents like passports, driver’s licenses, and Social Security records may now be invalidated, leaving people vulnerable to job discrimination, housing denial, and outright exclusion from federal programs. Hospitals are legally permitted to deny gender-affirming care, and within days of the order’s signing, several providers paused services to “assess compliance.” But if you scrolled through the headlines, you’d be forgiven for thinking this wasn’t a big deal. Or at least, that’s what I told my mother when I lamented the terrifying limbo many of my trans friends are in. When media coverage fails to focus on how policies affect real lives, it leaves marginalized communities to fend for themselves, often without the information they need to fight back.
2. Freezing Critical Funding
On January 27, 2025, the administration implemented a sweeping temporary freeze on federal funding, hitting community health centers, research institutions, and public health programs hard. This funding halt affects grants, loans, and aid across multiple sectors, including reproductive healthcare, HIV prevention programs, and LGBTQ+ services.
Impact? Community health centers are hanging by a thread. These facilities, which rely on federal grants to provide affordable contraception, STI screenings, gender-affirming care, and abortion services, have reported significant delays and obstacles in accessing funds. Some have already reduced services or shuttered altogether, leaving vulnerable populations with nowhere to turn for basic healthcare.
One of the most alarming ripple effects is the restriction placed on the President’s Emergency Plan for AIDS Relief (PEPFAR). Under this policy, access to pre-exposure prophylaxis (PrEP)—a lifesaving HIV prevention drug—has been limited to pregnant and breastfeeding women, effectively
excluding LGBTQ+ populations, including men who have sex with men and transgender individuals, who are at significantly higher risk of HIV infection.
And the funding freeze doesn’t stop at public health programs. Research institutions are also in freefall. University laboratories and hospitals that depend on federal grants to conduct groundbreaking research have found their projects halted indefinitely. Studies on everything from cancer treatments to mental health interventions are frozen in place, leaving researchers and their staff in limbo.
These executive actions signal a seismic shift in federal policy, with immediate and farreaching effects on public health and the rights of marginalized communities. The legal and social challenges are only beginning to unfold as states, organizations, and individuals scramble to navigate an increasingly precarious landscape.
And yet, the media coverage? Sparse. The headlines that do exist treat it as an “administrative shake-up,” not a catastrophic policy failure that could set scientific research back by years.
Drowning in Disinformation
In theory, the media should act as a lifeguard during moments like these—helping us understand the stakes, holding leaders accountable, and offering clarity in a chaotic policy landscape. But too often, it feels more like an anchor pulling us further into confusion.
Complex healthcare policies are frequently reduced to partisan clickbait: “Trump Takes Bold Stance on Gender Policy!” “Biden’s Reforms Gutted Overnight!” Headlines focus on political drama instead of the impact on real people. And when healthcare stories are reported at all, they’re often buried beneath whatever scandal or personality clash dominates the news cycle that day.
Worse still, misinformation thrives in these gaps. During Trump’s first term, false stories about ACA repeal spread faster than the facts. Hell, I’m not
even going to touch COVID right now. Let’s just say that social media is a misinformation minefield. For communities trying to organize and respond, separating fact from fiction becomes a full-time job.
Not all media is to blame. Independent outlets like ProPublica and The 19th continue to provide fact-based coverage. However, without a clear strategy to combat misinformation, these stories often fail to reach the people who need them most.
Learning to Swim & Preparing for the Next Wave
Healthcare policy in the U.S. swings like a pendulum with each administration, but the media’s role in shaping public perception ensures those swings hit harder for certain communities. Trump’s executive orders have already reversed key Bidenera protections, and their full implications will take
But if there’s one thing the past few years have taught us, it’s this: organized, sustained action can change the course of history.
Teaching Others to Swim: Personal and Collective Action
Surviving is one thing. Teaching others to survive— and thrive—is how we push back. Here’s how we can combat misinformation, amplify the right voices, and organize effectively:
1.
Build Your Information Arsenal
Fact-Check Relentlessly: Verify before you share. Use credible sources like ProPublica, NPR, BBC, and The New York Times.
Learn to Spot Misinformation: Be wary of sensational headlines. If something feels inflammatory, dig deeper. Check the date and source of articles. If you have time, see who is funding your news sources and determine if that makes the news outlet biased toward particular
2. Organize and Build Resilient Systems
Collaborate Across Communities: Healthcare providers, advocacy groups, and community organizers need to work together. Strong networks are lifelines in turbulent times. If you’re new to organizing, go to meetings, listen, and do what needs to be done. This isn’t about you; it’s about the collective.
Think Long-Term: Sustainable change requires more than a quick fix. Invest in long-term strategies that prioritize community-driven solutions. Show up to meetings, listen, and do what needs to be done. This isn’t about you; it’s about the collective. Center the Most Vulnerable: Effective strategies start by focusing on the people most affected. Show up to meetings, listen, and do what needs to be done. This isn’t about you; it’s about the collective.
Learning to Float
We’ve been here before. The tide rises, policies get worse, and those of us at the margins have to figure out—yet again—how to survive. But here’s the thing: we’ve learned to swim before. We’ve built lifeboats out of community networks, patched holes with resilience, and taught each other how to navigate systems designed to drown us.
Trump’s executive orders may feel overwhelming, but they’re not the end of the story. The future isn’t written yet. It’s shaped by every action we take—every time we fact-check, show up at a city council meeting, share resources, and organize.
The ripples are real, and the riptides are strong. But this time, we’re not just treading water. We’re learning how to create waves of our own.
*A note from the editor
Federal policy is never set in stone, and the shifting landscape of USAID and other federal funding freezes proves just that. As new developments unfold, pressure is mounting on the administration to reconsider its stance— suggesting that these pauses may not be permanent after all. Written in the midst of a rapidly evolving news cycle, this article captures a specific moment of uncertainty. It behooves us all to stay vigilant, keeping a close eye on these changes as they unfold, because what’s true today may not hold tomorrow.
Overwhelm is the Point
By: Jacki Huntington
Like anyone who cares about reproductive justice, I have to tune out and focus on myself from time to time. Emerging from that blessed oblivion, I have learned several distressing things:
Conservative Louisiana Attorney General Liz Murrill has ordered the extradition of New York-based abortion provider Dr. Maggie Carpenter after Carpenter legally sent abortifacient medication to a Louisiana teenager to terminate her pregnancy. Murrill is essentially daring Carpenter to leave New York so that henchmen from another antiabortion state can drag her to Louisiana. This is after a Louisiana grand jury indicted Carpenter for practicing telemedicine from New York –something that is, again, still completely legal. Murrill further claims that the Louisiana teenager was coerced by her mother to terminate her pregnancy – a claim that, regardless of whatever truth may exist in the hearts of the mother and daughter, was not born out in court.
What’s more, the Trump Administration is not enforcing the FACE Act, which makes it a federal crime to threaten, intimidate or otherwise prevent people from providing or obtaining abortion care. They’re actually pardoning anti-choice activists for past attacks on abortion clinics. And same as it ever was, conservative legislators are continuing to narrow the legal window for abortion access to six weeks or less – before most people even know that they are pregnant. It’s overwhelming.
But Jessica Valenti, the journalist behind the newsletter Abortion, Everyday and one of the loudest voices in media championing equitable
reproductive health access, says that “the overwhelm is the point.”
If the overwhelm is the point, this specific overwhelm is further made worse by being tedious and unromantic. Let’s admit it – these fights for reproductive justice exist in banal legal documents and acetic dedication to minutia. They exist in commitments to material support that require you to have money to donate in the first place (who even has a salary anymore?). They exist in a balance of self-preservation and solidarity with the collective. They exist in civil disobedience, scrupulous secrecy, and a willingness to bend the law.
As someone who has stopped calling myself a journalist and admitted that I am an artist so that I may hold on to my convictions and be honest about my feelings, I am here to say fuck it – find your way in to the fight. This overwhelm is an overwhelm we already know. This overwhelm is embedded in contemporary American culture.
Like James Baldwin, my way into the fight has involved leaving the United States in order to see my home country more clearly. Consider my story an exercise of imagination. It may be useful in the way that a poem is useful – a vision to contemplate.
Even though I live in Mexico, I still primarily consume American media. This is in part an indication of my laziness to truly live in Spanish, but I also do it because I still feel attached to American media narratives. I still feel American, I still feel hopeful for us, I still feel that I am a part of that “us.” And, not for nothing, I still pay
This is the picture that American media paints, fractured as the media landscape may be: corporate interests reinforcing neoliberal ideas of citizenship and political franchise, despair for stare decisis, executive orders rashly attempting to freeze government funds for welfare programs, fetal personhood entwined with a legally enforced gender binary, and Project 2025 becoming law. American media has shaped the way I understand the world, and by clinging to it I bring the state of our union everywhere I go. Maybe I’m missing out on making a better life for myself by not just letting go of all of it, but my Americanness is hard to erase.
I’ve long been fascinated by the way that political and cultural institutions shape what we imagine to be possible. In regard to reproductive justice specifically, majority-Catholic Mexico is an unlikely bastian of reproductive healthcare access. Its young constitution explicitly outlines human rights for citizens, and its liberalist scofflaw culture allows people to kind of do whatever they can to thrive. Is it a mess? Yes, but it somehow feels slightly more humane to me than the United States at this point in history.
And who knows how long it will last? We all exist in a moment of time.
What if others living in the United States –regardless of their citizenship – left? Part of our American media narrative about deportation and expatriation is that leaving the US, whether electively or by force, will certainly be worse than staying. And for many that’s probably true— to give just two examples: for Haitians fleeing gang violence and a completely dysfunctional government or Central American migrants seeking a more robust economy beyond Mexico — but for others, what could they gain by leaving the US? The Dream is dead. It’s been dead.
This is not the way I imagined my life philosophy and morals to take shape back when I was an overachieving public school kid in North Carolina, where every so often the underpaid teachers would run out of lessons and they’d ask us to write
timed essays about “what respect means to me.” While I was sitting at my germy desk with gum stuck to the bottom and some stranger’s initials carved into the top, as I flipped through outdated books with pages falling out while my history teacher repeatedly called the US the “daddy of the world,” I really believed that I would get a full-time job that was creative enough to satisfy my curiosity and then get straight married and then buy a house and then have a family and then somehow save enough for retirement and maybe go on a vacation and impress my boring but mostly kind husband with my okay French and then die in the United States.
But the world has changed radically in the last twenty years, and I no longer believe any of those things.
I got viscerally overwhelmed a while ago – probably when Donald Trump was elected in 2016 – and I saw myself in history for the first time. I realized that, had I lived in a feudal society, I would be a serf or a lowly toilet-cleaning maiden. I realized that most of the advice I would receive from any adult in my lifetime would essentially be useless. I started reading more, I got an abortion, I tried to unionize my workplace, I lost my job, I shed some tears, I started taking Prozac, and I moved to Mexico to maintain a decent quality of life even while working full-time as a freelancer.
Maybe this is always what America has wanted from me, to grow more selfish – animal that I am –driven to survive by any means necessary.
This transformation I’ve undergone into a selfish individualist is part of the American reproductive healthcare access problem. Abortion providers are still forced to choose their careers over their patients in a sad gambit of harm reduction. American citizens are being invited to snitch on their neighbors. Young people are growing up in an environment of pervasive shame and insidious religious zealotry that sees them as nothing more than coins amassing in a holy war hope chest. Conservative judges and legislators are making careers out of all of this.
There are always little bright spots: abortion
providers in South Carolina are arguing that prohibitive laws are violating their right to practice their beliefs – their beliefs being that people deserve reproductive healthcare and that they can provide it.
However, whatever beautifully vigilante grassroots network of abortion aiding and abetting that may be thriving right now is beyond my purview. It is certainly nothing I would hear on the news. I get the sense that American news can tell us nothing helpful – nothing actually true. Much of it feels like a mouthpiece of cheap summaries and opinions. It’s a script I could have phoned in remotely – a hack job.
I still consume American media, but I am bothered every time it feels civil. Host voices tell me about Palestinians killed in Gaza even after a ceasefire was promised and abortion providers charged as criminals and dangerous pregnancies leading to death.
Where is the place for this outrage? How does this overwhelm resolve?
Battling Anti-Intellectualism
By: Alex Ephstein
My shelves at home are filled with books, I’d spend all my time in reading nooks, From dystopia, fantasy, sci fi and horror, I felt like the world had so much to offer.
They raised questions about morality, But now these fantasies are becoming reality. So draw in close and take my hand, Let’s journey into Wonderland.
Margaret Atwood spoke of choice, Freedom and agency, treated like toys. Women’s bodies became commodities, Perpetuating the plan of the authorities.
Big Brother controlled the people below, He surveilled and watched, and let nothing show. Society becomes blinded by propaganda, He slaughtered all who gave him slander.
The people of Omelas rejoice regardless, We label them as evil, cruel, conniving, careless. But remember how you got this land, Look upon whose bones you stand. Butler wrote her own prophecy, A world riddled with inequality. She predicted what we would have seen, Our home as it is, and how it could have been.
Pillars of knowledge are getting dismantled, Universities are being reduced to shambles. Robin broke the norm with his defiance, He exemplified the necessity for violence.
Bradbury spoke of a future in despair, Where books were burnt without a care. So remember when they fuel their lighter, That your thirst for knowledge must burn brighter.
Why do you think these books are missing, Mention them, and snakes start hissing. Perhaps fiction tells truths we should not know, It’s hard to believe they’ve stooped that low.
So have empathy and educate, It may not stop the violence or the hate, But it will change minds and make you strong, It will help others learn what’s wrong.
So take that knowledge and go fourth, Scream until your voice is hoarse, Wield it still in spite of strife, Wield it like a bloody knife.
Trans Joy Rage
By: Steffi Bower
I’m angry. Mad. Furious. Livid. I’m full of rage.
It pours out of me, seeps from my pores and collects in my eyes and my ears. It spills into my mouth as I breathe, and gets carried off on my breath. It drips onto everything I read, and overwhelms the words of people who try to help me. I spit it on people who I love, my friends, my family and strangers alike.
Anger is a natural response to the circumstances we all find ourselves in. In some ways it helps me, it stands on one end of my emotional pendulum, opposing utter nihilism and despair. These two sentiments don’t balance each other out, I simply swing aimlessly between them, but rage gives me some energy, some motivation.
My rage remains boundless and undirected. I know who I should be mad at. On November 5th, my country overwhelmingly voted for Donald Trump. I don’t need to waste words on him. 70 million Americans knew about this man, experienced 4 years of his presidency, watched his campaign: his 32 felony convictions, his eugenic talking points, his economically crippling policies, his unparalleled misogyny and the irreversible damage he causedAnd yet, they still voted for him.
There are thousands of articles, podcasts, and think pieces all discussing. The raging sea of hot takes, explanations, confusion analysis, all of it, it all feels pointless to reiterate. This adds to my fury.
The outcome was inevitable. We have long known what America is, and who we are. For me it’s
frustrating. I don’t want to be told how to feel, who to blame, why the Harris campaign failed. Everyone has an opinion to share and at the end of the day I’m sick of it, regardless of whether I agree.
So what am I doing here – writing this essay, adding to this ever rising tide of media? Well, aside from a brief bit of catharsis I can wrest from this exercise, I think there is value in sharing personal experiences, and I will share mine. There are so many ways to look at this issue, so much to say, so many people affected by this. I do not ignore this to minimize their pain, their suffering, or to say any narrative is more valid than another, just because this is what I feel equipped to speak on: me.
I’m a Trans Woman. I’m white, and privileged in many ways. I think it’s important to acknowledge that, as threatened as I am in these moments, I will weather this storm; maintain my life and my transition. But many of my trans brothers and sisters will not. There is no denying this. What I feel in this moment is a small piece of the soul crushing pain, fear and anger that we all share.
Trans people in America represent an extremely small and at risk group. Trans people, regardless of gender identity, are over four times more likely to experience violence than their cisgendered counterparts. One in five queer people lives in poverty. Trans men earn 70 cents on the dollar, while trans women earn even less. These impacts are severely intensified for trans people of color with poverty rates nearly twice that of white trans people. This is before one even begins to discuss
the overwhelming financial and emotional costs that factor into a transition, and the inherent inequities in our society that exist, regardless of transness. We are a small group being crushed under the weight of violence, poverty, and social exclusion.
As the election cycle progressed we saw anti trans rhetoric rise to a fever pitch. Trump spent roughly $215m on televised anti trans ads alone. As Alejandra Caraballo framed it in the Harvard Crimson that equates to a staggering $134 per trans person. We have been inundated with dehumanizing messaging: calling us threats to society, to children, calling us ill.
The deafening howl of transphobia is full of contradictions. We are fetishized while being infantilized. We are called an insignificant minority while being hailed as the harbingers of the apocalypse. Transphobic laws have been implemented and proposed across the world. We saw an asinine political circus surrounding the first openly trans member of congress. They call surgeries and procedures that have saved my life acts of mutilation. Even our “allies” turned their backs on us, speaking of trans people as political poison, refusing to give even the most tepid words of support. My ability to teach, access public funds and get healthcare are under attack. Our rights to self identify and protect ourselves have already been wrenched from us in many states. We were turned away from our brief opportunity to enshrine our rights. We have been stripped of our humanity, turned into boogiemen, and used as a convenient distraction from real problems. Now we fight just to exist.
“I find myself arguing to justify my humanity – my womanhood – to people I once thought of as friends or, at the very least, allies.”
And there it is, the rage. Of all of the issues facing our world, it continues to spit on me. With Trump in office I find myself suddenly fighting for survival, abandoning any hopes of liberation and betterment. I find myself arguing to justify my humanity – my womanhood – to people I
once thought of as friends or, at the very least, allies. I still have to live my life, while dealing with harassment, stalking and assault. The stares, the name calling, the spitting, and the groping.. So yes: I’m mad. I’m so, so sick of this. Don’t tell me that now the time for work to begin – that time came years ago. Don’t tell me who to blame, because it doesn’t matter. Don’t tell me about silver linings – I can’t see them right now. If you can find them I won’t rob you of that. For me, what is done is done.
That being said, I will continue to fight despair, rage and nihilism. I see a message emerging that queer people and marginalized groups have known for generations. It is the one idea that keeps me going, the one that gives me a glimpse of hope.
“Our greatest strength has always been our community. The shared experiences, the love, joys, heartbreaks, traumas and triumphs that shape us all. They weave a beautiful net, help ground us, weather any storm, and catch us when we fall.”
Our greatest strength has always been our community. The shared experiences, the love, joys, heartbreaks, traumas and triumphs that shape us all. They weave a beautiful net, help ground us, weather any storm, and catch us when we fall. We see this in ball and drag houses, chosen families, pride, support groups, and political organizations. The language of family is inseparably bound to queerness. We know this. We have always known this. This is a deep part of our history and identity.
It has been these connections – my family – who have pulled me back to earth. They remind me that a transition is a beautiful thing, that despite all of the vitriol, all of the rage, every struggle that I have spewed upon this page it is worth it. To be authentically true to myself, to love myself, and share that love with those around me is an unbelievable gift that words simply cannot adequately express.
My trans mother was the first person I called after the election. The next day we sat in a cafe and cried. We cried out of fear, anger and for what was lost. We faced the fullness of reality as one. But in that moment I felt like together we could handle whatever came next. She connected me to our history. Her beauty, her strength, her warmth and her kindness stabilized me. She reminded me of how far I have come, how I have transformed, blossoming in ways I couldn’t even dream of. This reality still exists, but it took my mother to show it to me. Over the past weeks I have received an outpouring of care and love from my community. I have been shown again and again that I am not alone, none of us are.
So this is what I hope you can do. Be there for each other. Be there as friends, lovers, family and supporters. Do this on a personal level, be the shoulder to cry on, the listening ear, the voice for those who have lost connection to their own. Be the person someone feels safe coming to. Organize. Unify our community and join our stories together. Do not fall victim to the infighting that can so often underpin our movements. Focus not on what divides us but what binds us. When one of us falls, we all fall. Don’t let that happen.
For those who consider themselves threatened by trans people:remember that we share so much more than you realize. We are subject to the same patriarchal, capitalistic systems looking to beat us down and strip us of our agencies. We share the same precarious existence under the sword of Damocles that is sexual violence. Remember that when we march, we march together. Challenge some of the preconceptions you may have of trans folks and know that division only strengthens those who wish us harm. Recognize our humanity, our identities and our struggles. Our goals are not incompatible, they align.
This is what we bring to each other. Whether you’re an ally, or a member of the queer community. Let’s take each other’s hands, and speak out for one another. Be angry, embrace it, revel in it. Let’s be mad together.
To Our Readers,
If this issue is a love letter, it’s not the saccharine kind. It’s not a neatly folded note passed in class or a Hallmark card sealed with a kiss. It’s something messier, more complicated — scrawled in the margins of history, stamped with urgency, and delivered to a world still figuring itself out.
Media, art, and community have always been entwined in a volatile romance, shaping and reshaping each other with every headline, every protest, every brushstroke. Policy bends to the weight of voices amplified; narratives fracture and reform in real time. We exist in the push and pull of it all—interpreting, creating, resisting, and rebuilding. It’s exhilarating. It’s exhausting. It’s necessary.
So here’s to the artists who paint truth in broad strokes, the journalists who carve through noise, and the communities that refuse to be written out of the story. Here’s to love, not as sentiment, but as action. Because if this moment in history is teaching us anything, it’s that the most enduring love letter is the one we write to the future — with courage, with clarity, and with an unwavering belief that the story will always still be ours to tell.
With heart, 11 Seconds Magazine
