FASHION SHOW VANGUARD 2021

The Black Student Union presents: The Vanguard

Letter from the Editor: To begin, we would like to thank our previous publications directors, Kendra Gourgue, and Ajahee Sekkm – Miles for contributing their time and devotion in making BSU’s Vanguard publication, an accredited course. Much thanks to Professor Jennifer Stoever, who played an integral role as well in bringing the Vanguard class to life. ** During class time, we sat down and asked each other, what is Afrofuturism? First, to speak on the future of Blackness, we needed to deconstruct the old preconceptions in order to reimagine the new future.

Throughout our history, Black self-expression has been suppressed and kept dormant under the power structure that exists here in America. By reflecting on ancestral oppression and trauma, we can connect the principles that we lost hold of and connect our past and present to envision a new future of Blackness.

Lastly, we want to dedicate this Vanguard issue to all the Black lives that were lost due to obscene police killings and brutality. After the death of George Floyd in 2020, there was a soar in outrage and sorrow across the nation. The riots and protests that followed were an example of the destruction that make up Black lives. Rest in Peace to you all. Your names will not be forgotten.

This, is what comes after the destruction. Freedom, self-expression, free-flowing identity, and rejuvenation of the Black people.

So, what is Afrofuturism? Allow the students of our future to tell you.

A MIX I am purple.

Pieces of both, making a new mix, I’m both and neither at the same time.

Like purple I exist within two categories, pink and blue While being a part of a new one entirely.

And when I describe this the words never seem to formulate correctly Until I explain that I’m purple.

And once you exist as a mix you get bored with having to choose either, So you blend them.

One day I’m lavender and others I’m iris.

I'm always purple but I exist as a spectrum amongst the hues that create me, My days are governed by following the dopamine Because so many things make me happy.

I am forced to go about the day moving with what peak my interest.

Yet still I recognize what created me.

I don’t judge the pinks Or the blue, But rather bond with both because I am pieces of both And depending on the occasion I am more of one that the other, However never fully either.

I am purple.

I am all the shades and the hues, Just different ones on different days.

So I broke the walls put up around me.

I took the pink and blue and combined them to make my own.

-

JoceLynn Labossiere

FUTURE OF MY AFRO I want to tell you about a future A future where everything is Afro-centric Well…

Everything already is But in this future, Black people are properly commended Our stories and their creators are correctly represented Our creations never have a chance to be disrespected The children with the Afros are the real models of the blessed This is a future where our hair could grow As high as God’s toes And there’s no enemies or foes Just fun competition and friendly rivals This is a future where wave checks replace wellness checks Because everyone is well in this just society There is no fight for justice No discrimination as there is only just us - the children of the Afros There is no Black expulsion due to hair braiding As classrooms are our hair salons Where we learn about the Black royals of Europe And we can walk in with our hair just as long Or just as short Different textures of our hair is a part of the course This is a future where we care for our hair as much as we care for the Earth’s soil Our Afros are our crowns representing a caring kingdom This is a future where we walk as royals This is the future of my Afro

-

Mikelangelo

WO DIN DE SEN? Kwabena...

My real name Hard to release from the unsuspecting tongue My real name serves more to me than identification More than the day I arrived And even more than where my heart will ultimately reside...

Accra The syllables of my name connect me to a lineage outside the confines of this time Drawing a line from the past throughout the future that cannot be broken My name is more than my name, it is my essence Proof that character is made by the divine My name tells you everything you need to know and more They’ll ask me “Wo din de sɛn?”

And I’ll say Kwabena My name is my home My name is my throne My name is my reminder that I am of greater status than I’ve been shaped to believe My name is my protection A reminder that my ancestors are still living through me My name is my freedom My name is Kwabena

- Tykeem Banini

THE BEGINNING RUN The world is ours and it is all in our favor, It is the product of our peoples, the fruits of our labor We are free from the bondages of our limitations and tempted to reach the vibranium skies of our heights We must keep going!

I repeat, it will be much better than before so we must keep going!

Can’t you see it? Over there by the light, it gets brighter the closer you approach So, let’s walk—no let’s run!

With each step let’s leave a trail of our history’s destruction, With each foot let’s leave the footprint of our ancestor’s steps With each leap let’s leave the mark of our past and all that is left We will mark what they have tried to erase so that we can make sure we mark our place.

We must keep going!

Arm and arm, one by one, let’s gallop together because the future has come.

Only God can anticipate the intensity of our climb.

We’ve only just begun.

-

Elizabeth Plantin

We're on a mission to find what was lost Families ripped apart, what was the cost Culture, love, art, no more turning a blind eye We're bringing that beauty back into the limelight

AFROFUTURISM A poem.

The soul could be shattered into millions of pieces and those pieces could split into billions more The soul could be scattered, sent north, south, east, west without losing a bit of her strength from before For the soul in all of her strength cannot be broken For the soul is like water Impossible to destroy Though the history of humanity has been so unkind, creating a world far beyond trying, where sometimes the struggle is worse than just dying The soul is like water Impossible to destroy Though her perfect bodies suffer from contamination of those not yet awakened, throwing their waste in, yet in all this pollution the soul won't be forsaken

The soul is like water Essential to life With power enough To transform your mind Ever escaping us to the realm of sky To come pouring back in when the rivers run dry The soul is like water The soul is you and I.

-

Willow Paykin

NEON BLACK “I am black; I am in total fusion with the world, in sympathetic affinity with the Earth, losing my id in the heart of the cosmos — and the white man, however intelligent he may be, is incapable of understanding Louis Armstrong or songs from the Congo. I am black, not because of a curse, but because my skin has been able to capture all the cosmic effluvia. I am truly a drop of sun under the Earth.”

— Frantz Fanon What was it like to be black before 2020? Ma always says she grew up in a white man’s world— monochrome: splitting herself in two— having her identity stripped away from her. She tells me about red hot riots sparking early June and little Black girls burning their scalps scarlet on salon chairs. She cried.

“Shut up, be quiet!”. I would cry too if I had to burn my pride.

For all we gave. For all that was taken.

Stolen.

Broken.

Abused.

The universe gave us a gift in December of 2020: a superpower. Orange Jupiter and yellow Saturn swaddled us in their heavenly hands, painting us in their fluorescent fervor. Our skin glowing bright black, our eyes like stars peering over twilight.

For all that was gifted. For all we received.

Reciprocated.

Repaired.

Cherished.

The nights seem purple walking down the city streets. Neon signs meeting our skin with a glow, reflections gleaming, bouncing from iridescent raindrops splayed on asphalt. The space we gave up existing in white and black is now occupied with our brilliant auras.

Take all of it unapologetically. It belongs to us.

Ours to share.

Ours to show.

Ours to own.

Black people exist in 2031. We allow our children to grow up in a colorful world— rainbow: a uniqueness collective— identities defined by the individual. We want their minds to be clear blue skies free of worry, heads covered in curls and braids and Black hair. There is pride to be had in accepting yourself.

As there are endless hues, there are endless yous.

All beautiful.

All perfect.

All Black.

We are thriving. We are Presidents and Mayors and Queens and Doctors— we are rulers— we are leaders. So much has changed by our hands. We no longer need to demand it— We are seen. We no longer need to shout— We are listened to.

Exist as you are. Project your perception.

Yours alone.

No one else’s.

You. The code-switch is off, the glow is always on. I encourage you to be Black in 2021, to let your skin dazzle because you are not a single color but all the colors combined into a rainbow incomprehensible: infinite. You outshine the stars. You overwhelm the neon signs. Covered in splayed raindrops like asphalt.

Nothing glows brighter than skin Neon Black.

-

NEW BLOOD

Qai Hardy

if i had a dime for every time my person’s been neglected lost in the rhine, a protege reflected my dna haunts me hiding in asymmetry the mirror match of misery my tombstone a soliloquy misrepresented, never call me i resent it the only time i find myself transcendent this world goes evanescent & i find myself, surrounded by bad blood embodied the blessed, the jali they preach, but not in spoken rhythm the sound of their heels resound throughout the halls like hymnals they click & clack, slamming like canes on the floor to signal all to step back the name is realness, in the 36th century said i couldn’t make it past 35 now they dead to me i take my place on stage, strutting with the best of them like martha & cece, contested we all have bad blood running through our veins transfigured, but god knows the displaced will rise again.

-

BLACKOUT

Dahlia Bekong

THE SEEDS OF ANARCHY WERE PLANTED AND BLOOMED INTO A BEAUTIFUL EXPERIENCE FROM OUR WILDEST DREAMS….

AN ILLUSION OF OUR DISTORTED REALITY THAT WE LIVED IN NOW WE SEE THE SPROUTS OF A NEW UTOPIA FEATURING OUR BLACK SOULS AS THE PRIMARY ENERGY SOURCE NO MORE DRAINAGE & NO MORE SUFFERING WHAT WE’VE ACCOMPLISHED HOW DID WE BUILD ANEW WITH THE PLAGUED SYSTEM BREWING ITS TASTELESS IDEOLOGIES INTO OUR MINDS? PLAGUING US FOR CENTURIES AND BRAINWASHING AND HOLDING THE MASSES BY INVISIBLE SHACKLES OF CONTROL WHAT DID WE DO? “DECONSTRUCT” DECONSTRUCT DISMANTLE AND DISSECT. WE DECONSTRUCTED, DISMANTLED AND DISSECTED BUT NOW THAT VERY DESTRUCTION CREATED ANEW, A NEW LIFE FOR OUR BEAUTIFUL BLACK BODIES TO… BLOSSOM BLOSSOM INTO OUR FULL POTENTIAL BLOSSOM INTO OUR LIBERATED SOULS BLOSSOM - THE ABILITY TO SHOWCASE OUR BLACKNESS THROUGH MULTIPLE FORMS OF EXPRESSION BLOSSOM & BE NOT ONE OR THE OTHER, BUT INTO OUR OWN AUTHENTICITY BLOSSOM BECAUSE OUR BLACKNESS IS A TREASURE, TO BE KIND TO OURSELVES, GIFT OURSELVES WITH GRACE BLOSSOM WITH LOVE AND TO FEEL EMOTIONS THROUGH A LENS OF FORGIVENESS WE DESERVE TO SPROUT AND REBLOSSOM INTO ANY MAGICAL BEING WE WANT TO BE TO USE OUR IMAGINATION TO ITS FULLNESS, THE ENDLESS POSSIBILITIES WE CAN CREATE ONCE WE BLOSSOM INTO ANEW

BUT FIRST WE MUST PLANT OUR SEEDS THE SEEDS OF ANARCHY TO DECONSTRUCT THAN REBUILD WHAT WE CAN BE

-

THE VOICE BEHIND THE TREES This story is dedicated to Chloë and Soléi, we miss you.

Jenna A. Johnson

There once was a little, Black girl with skin kissed by the sun and saturated with honeyher eyes bright and big, filled with curiosity.

She came from a long line of Black womxn so tall and mighty, they created night and day with their full and kinky afros that replaced the sun when it got tired and wanted to rest.

All around them the land bore plenty and the animals lived in peace and harmony.

Oh, how the little girl sought to be as empowered as the beautiful, Black around her.

She would often sit and watch them command, envision, love, and liberate those masked by fear.

One day, great darkness cast over the land, wrapping its dark hands around the once bright and full plants-frightening the animals so they ran as fast they could before the darkness caught them.

The full kinky afros that used to bring balance were now deflated and no longer had the strength to cast night.

Oh, what could have caused this they all wondered?

The little girl especially was distraught at the land that once bore plentiful, but now only bore white rotten, stinking fruit- and the animals that once lived in peace and harmony, were now at war.

One day as she played with what was left of the land, she heard a voice behind the only standingmystical tree that used to sing sweet melodies as the wind rushed through its leaves.

“Chloë, Chloë here I am” The voice was soft and firm and startled the girl a little.

The little girl walked a little closerher small toes absorbing the sand with every step.

Was someone playing tricks on her, she wondered ?

“Chloë, it is me. The wind that rushes through the leaves, the running water, the sweet sap from the trees that once brung comfort to those before you”.

No longer frightened, the little girl stepped closer towards the mystical trees “My child, darkness has casted over your land and your mothers no longer protect the sun.

It is your fear that is the sickness.

It will crawl into the soul of anyone who makes way for it” the voice declared.

The little girl was confused. Never had she known or felt fear. How could ‘fear’ cause so much destruction?

“How do we defeat this fear? “ the little girl asked .

The voice sighed, “You must teach others to not fear the unknown, uncertainty, each other, and more importantly oneself. I have seen the suffering of your people and I have come to Deliver them out of the hands of insecurity, self-hatred, self restriction, and labels. I will send you to liberate those that are mentally chained.”

“Me, but what can I do? I’m only 9, I don’t know how to liberate people,” the little girl questioned.

“Liberation is a mindset. You must remind others and yourself that fear is a shared struggle, you all are each others fate”. Go my child, spread the word and do not live in fear”.

-

2021-2022 Executive Board:

Krista Hall

President: Osariemen Aiyevbomwan Vice President: Krista Hall Treasurer: JoceLynn Labossiere Secretary: Alanna Morse Co-Secretary: Josef Thompson Historian: Chelsea Miranda Educational Coordinator: Azzaré HAUGHTON Political Correspondent: Dounia Badidi Publications Coordinator: Elizabeth G Plantin Public Relations: Yubilet Rios Student-Association Representative: Keneal Campbell Social-Cultural Coordinator: Krystal Honeyghan Kiya Floyd Senior Advisors: Kiya Floyd, Kendra Gourgue and Ajahee Sekkm-Miles

FACULTY ADVISOR

Professor Jennifer Stoever

Editor: Elizabeth G. Plantin

Writers: Tykeem Banini Dahlia Bekong Krista Hall Qai J. Hardy Jenna A. Johnson JoceLynn Labossiere Mikelangelo Willow Paykin Elizabeth G. Plantin

Thank you to all who attended our 53rdAnnual Fashion Show!

To become more involved with the black Student Union, Follow our Instagram: @BSU1968 Attend our General Body Meetings Thursdays at 6pm in our BSU Lounge (b006) To join the vanguard please email theunionpub@gmail.com

“History, despite its wrenching pain, cannot be unlived, but if faced with courage, need not be lived again.” ~ Maya Angelou