FOBP Fall 22 Issue

Upon its inception in 2019, Faces of Black Penn opened the door to a new avenue of creative expression. The mission of the project to create an open narrative highlighting Black students by Black students was one of a kind. The magazine’s vulnerability, softness, and depth not only demonstrated that Black Penn was blossoming, but that it was thriving.

The effects of the pandemic cannot be understated by virtue of how it divided us and stalled our momentum. A lot of the seeds we planted for community, connectivity, and optimism became difficult to water and nurture. But, the beautiful thing is that we are persevering and not just surviving, but thriving again.

By expanding the mission of Faces of Black Penn to highlight issues that Black students want to shed light on, I hope that we have reflected even more voices. Just like Black Penn at its core, this project represents community and collaboration. For our voices may be louder when we shout together.

MARCUS R. TARAH P.

KIMBERLY CARLTON, KHALID MOHIELDIN

YANU KUME-KANGKOLO, ADEOLUWA FATUKASI, FAITH DEMPSEY, KHALID MOHIELDIN, MICHAEL KONU

“Your Taste in Music is Your Only Personality Trait”

KIMBERLY CARLTON

We are not the music we consume. I was once a music hipster, a gatekeeper. I held high regard for listening to specific genres of music and was extremely possessive of my favorite artists. I used to feel slight annoyance towards those who enjoyed the discography of artists I also loved—as if their work was solely applicable to my listening ears. You didn’t listen to Brent Faiyaz, D’Angelo, Lauryn Hill, Steve Lacy, or Kendrick Lamar like I listened to them.

I often ponder when music became a substance of categorical assignment, where people’s interests were placed into boxes, confining those who shared their taste to a specific mold. I understood the multifacetedness of music but never grasped how it simultaneously divided people. Music’s origin was designed as an integrative force, making it increasingly possible to bring varying demographics with similar interests together—as Kumbaya, My Lord that may sound. However, we must question how we define our self-value by encompassing our personality traits around the music we consume. In all honesty, basing your characteristics on the stereotypes encompassed by your music taste is getting played out and redundant.

We place trivial labels on ourselves by configuring our extraversion/introversion around the music we listen to. Similarly to the rise of JustinLaBoy Instagram posts and its attribution of an individual’s birth chart to dating characteristics, the varying forms of music which consume have strengthened the growing permanence of such labels. You are spiritual if you consume music from Jhene Aiko, Erykah Badu, India Arie, and Maxwell, toxic if your playlist consists of Nardo Wick, Summer Walker, Future, Brent Faiyaz, and unappreciative of current music if you solely listen to 70s, 80s and 90s oldies you were raised on. Although I may embody the latter category, I look to these distinguishing traits as limitations to progressing in the black community.

We cannot put ourselves to blame for the establishment of these personality categories. The true culprit

lies in the music industry’s power over black music. Most apparently, this separation of black music through differing forms of artistry has been limited by award ceremonies such as the Billboard Music Awards, American Music Awards, and most significantly: the Grammy’s. I designate one of the pitfalls of the black community as our separation through perception. The different perceptions people attain of black music are most characterized by how people define “black music” whether it be the Grammy’s constant overlooking of talented black artists, or the monopolization and bias on voting committees to appoint qualified artists for such awards. As the currently controversial artist Kanye West stands as a pinnacle for current black artistry, he once noted the necessity of “white publications to stop commenting on black music.”

His sentiments on many current social issues are difficult to digest, but it is vital to understand that our perceptions of each other as black people are often rooted through the Caucasian lens of our mu-

sic. We, as a community, have allowed such voices to dictate what is vaguely considered to be black music—placing artists such as Steve Lacy, Kid Cudi, Daniel Caesar, Ravyn Lanae, and more into genres such as Alternative R&B while also questioning the viability of Lil Nas X’s “Old Town Road” as a valid country if sung by a black artist.

Current pop culture consistently fails to properly categorize black artistry–designating artists to genres that most obviously don’t match the music they create. We must also question how we’ve defined urban music and the categories to which the artistry is designated. Tyler the Creator emphasized the “urban category as a politically correct way to say the N-word,” conveying what many black artists have been too fearful and even sometimes institutionalized to speak upon. The power of the Grammys and voting committees has subconsciously warped our understanding of what we view as “good music.” This behavior, I find, is most apparent through my view of artists in my childhood–growing up and absentmindedly disregarding certain forms of black artistry because of the media conditioninga media often populated by white ideals.

Looking at the history of black artistry in media, it is no surprise that there exists a lack of representation in varying forms of black music. MTV Hits, a music-video broadcasting platform, was notorious for broadcasting strictly Rock N Roll, post-punk, new-wave rock, and Indie artists, and finally broadcasting hip hop with the rise of RUN DMC’s hit “Rock Box” in 1984. It often takes transcendence of music borders and barriers for black artistry to be acknowledged in predominated white spaces—as RUN DMC’s blurring of hip-hop music allowed their transition into the rock-based format.

sentation of constituent forms has been dismal. I find it vital to reiterate this specific mantra: we are not a monolith.

This idea of music categorization does not tie into the old sentiment of blaming the “White Man” for why we cannot succeed as a community, but it rather calls into question the role they play in how we perceive one another. Why should we fail to interact with other black people based on their musical tastes? When did these musical interests transform into our externally discerned self-morality? These questions must be asked when judging one’s taste in music as an examination of their being, probing whether we should separate the music from the artist and the listeners of such artists in their decision-making.

Engaging in interactions with unfamiliar people now comes down to if they are Kevin Gates or Chris Brown diehards or Kendrick Lamar and J.Cole connoisseurs. The music we consume says a great deal about our character but we must decide how to characterize people by their ability to remain genuine people with genuine intentions–an authenticity a mere label could not possess.

Why

black music need to transcend thick genre borders to be expanded on mass levels?

The answer comes with understanding who heads this society of “acknowledgment” repre-

does

We must question how we define our self-value by encompassing our personality traits around the music we consume.

On the Resurgence of Black Arts at Penn

KHALID MOHIELDIN

A Second Dream

In his 1962 anti-colonial text, “Black Skin, White Masks,” ethno-psychiatrist Frantz Fanon declared that “the Negro symbolizes the biological.” Fanon argues that Blackness, as it’s understood by the white masses, is merely a string connecting the white, “civilized” world with the natural, “primal” world. Blackness is imposed on those who white authority determine contribute nothing useful but sex and labor. Blackness, then, is decay. It is death.

The irony with Blackness, though, is that it isn’t owed to anyone. In fact, generations of Black creatives have used Blackness as a canvas for their creative something new. There’s a freeing aspect to Black art that many Black creatives will be quick to tell you about. Take, for example, Elom, a design student and makeup artist at Penn. Elom described her life trajectory as a story of two dreams. Growing up in a predominantly white high school, her first dream was simply to make it to college. Art, though, allowed Elom to understand her existence beyond school and the competitiveness that followed that. As she put it, through art, “I gained confidence in registering that I get to build a second dream.”

Following the pandemic, a number of Black creatives sought to establish spaces for Black art in all its forms, including through visual, physical, and auditory art forms. Looking around Penn’s campus, it’s difficult to not notice the ways in which Blackness has manifested itself into pure creation. Into pure art.

Finding Space for Black Art

It’s hard to tell what exactly the pandemic did to Black art. Some artists, like Sebleh Alfa, the co-founder of the Monolith Black Arts Collective, experienced an artistic renaissance of sorts during quarantine. “A lot of people needed a creative outlet,” she told me. “People rekindled their love for art during quarantine.”

In many ways, the pandemic actually helped fuel the creation of Monolith. Monolith, Penn’s first Black visual arts collective, started out as a series of conversations between

Sebleh and other creatives seeking a space dedicated to Black visual art. They noticed an uptick of Black students returning to school with newfound and evolved artistic interests. Despite not having any official recognition, Monolith hosted their first Spring Art Gallery early in May 2022. They’re now planning a series of events, including another art gallery for the Spring semester focused on Black joy.

Other groups, though, had a much more difficult time navigating the pandemic. Take, for instance, West African Vibe (WAVe), a dance group on campus focusing on contemporary West African dances. Toluwalase and Atinuke, two dancers on the team, recounted a string of setbacks that significantly hampered WAVe’s ability to do practically anything during quarantine. For one, the switch to online-exclusive interactions removed the inherently in-person dynamic of dance. The swiftness in which Penn and the whole world went into remote life left WAVe members unprepared to teach dance lessons online. Moreover, members felt that online-exclusive interactions weren’t conducive to the community-building that made WAVe so unique. “We took in new people in the fall but weren’t really able to include them,” Atinuke told me.

Moreover, the pandemic preluded a serious brain drain of sorts within the club. By the end of 2021, most of the former executive board members had graduated, leaving only one person who had any sort of experience in planning and managing a show. She was the primary point of contact for all things logistics-related: reaching out to funding boards, getting costumes designed, managing setlists, etc. Although WAVe did eventually put on their first show in years in the Spring of 2022, climbing out of that whole was an incredibly taxing experience for all those involved.

The trauma of the pandemic also left many creatives deeply unsure of themselves and their art. Fall 2020 was, as she describes it, a “series of unfortunate events” for Elom. A litany of personal issues coincided with the pandemic, which forced Elom into a period of intense isolation. Going into what she described as “survival mode,” Elom abandoned

many of her creative outlets. Getting back to her creative roots necessitated an almost complete transformation of her personal and academic identity. It’s a work in progress, but she remains committed to listening to herself and creating even when the physical world disallows it.

Black Art, White Spaces

Fanon’s myth of the Black biology became a resonant topic for many creatives. Questions of art and biology were particularly important for Black dancers, whose art form requires a somewhat vulnerable presentation of their body. Toluwalase noted that Black women – and, particularly, dark skin Black women – in dance are often pressured into appearing more feminine, as Black women are often masculinized.

More broadly, a number of creatives made connections between their respective art forms and its connection to themselves and the natural world. Toluwalase, for example, emphasized the importance of dance as a therapeutic way of understanding one’s own body. “It’s therapeutic in the way it connects me to my body,” they said. “I learn new things about the way my body works in an artistic sense.”

Groups also noted a difficulty in gaining respect for Black art in white institutions. Black creatives repeatedly mentioned how being at a PWI made Black creation particularly difficult. Members of WAVe noted multiple roadblocks to gaining traction. For one, they mentioned that WAVe has historically been excluded from Penn’s Dance Art Council (DAC). DAC is the primary umbrella organization currently representing twelve different student-run dance groups on campus. Despite years of petitioning, WAVe is not among those twelve. In fact, DAC currently has a hold on accepting new groups; that hold has been in place for longer than the 9 years that WAVe has even existed. Since they’re not a part of DAC, WAVe can’t get any funding from the board, nor can they get priority for booking practice and performance spaces. Even among DAC’s member clubs, a culture of

favoritism still exists, disadvantaging traditionally nonwhite dance troupes.

Ultimately, the resurgence of Black arts at Penn is a testament to the inherently rebellious nature of Black art. If Blackness is natural, as Fanon argues, then so it is permanent. The Black artists on Penn seem to agree: no matter the circumstances, Black arts are here to stay.

CAMPUS & CULTURE

Life Beyond the Bubble

YANU KUME-KANGKOLO

If you’re venturing West of campus looking for a snack there are many options. On the corner of 45th and Walnut you will find Lebanese delights, savory and sweet at Manakeesh café Bakery & Grill. Their hibiscus tea is always perfectly sweet, refreshing and vibrant. Not far is Second Mile, a second hand store selling clothes, furniture and glassware, etc. it’s a perfect place to donate your old clothes. If you’re walking near Baltimore avenue, Alif Brew café is a small café serving hot Ethiopian food and drinks. The people are very sweet and will happily tell you about their daily specials. The café also features a little convenience store selling mostly, but not limited to Ethiopian and Turkish snacks, and pantry items. Further up West is Fuh-Wah Mini Market, a Vietnamese convenience store with delicious Bahn Mi’s. Be sure to carry some cash on you because they do not accept card. If you’re looking for a small family owned and operated restaurant go to Vientiane Café on 47th and Baltimore Ave, not to be confused with Vietnam Café on the corner of Warrington Ave and S 47th Street. This Laotian BYO restaurant is very affordable and offers generous portions. Their curries and soups are absolutely to die for. The flavor palettes are nicely balanced and the spice is exquisitely flavorful. Other honorable mentions for dinner on Baltimore Ave: Mount Kilimanjaro/Youma and Queen of Sheba Walking west on Baltimore Ave around sunset never disappoints. The architecture of the street coupled with the slight upward incline lends offers

a good view of the sky as it turns from blue, to bright pink stripes to night and the red hues reflect off the golden cupule of the St. Francis De Sales Catholic Church. Street and venue lights of different colors light up the walkway. When I find myself on Baltimore Ave after dark on a weekend night looking for good music and cheap drinks, I go to Dahlak. This restaurant and bar has a cute little outdoor area that is perfect for the summer, an intimate bar covered in mirrors lit up by colorful LED lights, and a main dining area decorated with Eritrean woven baskets, big palm and banana leaf trees, numerous framed pictures of locations in Eritrea. They feature local West Philly talent during their jam sessions, DJ events, comedy shows, and even karaoke nights most of which are open to anyone brave enough to take the stage in front of a beautiful stained-glass window that peers into Baltimore Ave. Across the street is Loco Pez, a Mexican restaurant and bar that has karaoke on Thursdays from 9pm on.

Another great place for watching the sunsets, the city of Philadelphia be painted in the evening light, or the moon rise is Cira Green. This Roof top green area projects movies and sports games on their big screen, is BYO and serve burgers, fries and drinks, though no outside alcohol is allowed. Just a block away on 30th and Walnut is World Café Live. It has live shows every weekend, some of which are free. You’ll watch the shows from casual dinner tables where you can order form a full dinner and drinks menu with proof of ID. If jazz music isn’t the

kind of show you’re after to accompany your dinner, check out Marrakesh in South Philly. Stepping into this restaurant covered in carpets, and wall tapestries will make you forget that you are in Philadelphia. They offer a 7-course meal for a flat fee of $25 per person which includes delicious dishes, endless pita bread, mint tea, desert, and belly dancing. Not included in the in the $25 are the pitchers of house wine that you can for $12. The big tables and cushion seats are perfect for large groups. Both are blends and air on the sweeter side, perfectly complementing the flavor profiles of the food. And yes, you can order an unlimited amount of each. It is cash only.

Nearby is Caribbean Delight, a restaurant that has been serving Jamaican food since the 1990s and is still operated by the original owner. The portion sizes are hefty and the food is delightful! Geared more towards take out, there are booths for dining in, most of the food will be served to you in a matter of minutes, some dishes, like curry shrimp are made to order and demand a longer wait time. The food here is so good that in the time I waited for my curry shrimp to be made, multiple clients came in ecstatic to pick up their orders that they had driven into Philly just to pick up. If that wasn’t enough, my father raves about this place 21 years after he last tried it.

If you’re 21 and over, and looking for late-night entertainment in center city, TIME is a jazz bar with live performances most nights, that you can walk into for a $5 cover. There are 3 different bars each with their own

music and ambiance. The caliber of the live performers is very high and similarly, you can enjoy some late night food just meters from the performers at a candlelit table or by the bar. Leda and The Swan, on 15th and Chestnut, is a cocktail bar with a cute little stage that is brought to life by a different performer from 8-10pm every Friday and Saturday. Occasionally the performer will be a DJ and the show will go on until closing time. Most times the artists will stick around for post-show drinks, a perfect time to let them know how much you enjoyed the show. LMNO is a Mexican restaurant, lounge, art gallery, book store and bar in Fishtown. Their food is delicious. Their décor funky fantastic and their cocktails excellent. Even better is their Listening Room accessible via a secret door in the men’s bathroom through which you’ll find a dim, sensual living room with insanely comfortable leather seating, a tempting cocktail bar and a DJ mixing up a great vibe.

Philly has plenty of places to sit back and enjoy being in some greenery. Located on 43rd and Baltimore is the historic Clark Park, where you will see people playing chess, little kids charging at each other armed with Styrofoam weapons, locals buying produce, flowers, baked goods, preserves, cheese and eggs from the Saturday morning farmer’s market and arts, crafts and all sorts of things from the other stands. This farmers market puts the one by the bookstore to shame. The Woodlands is a park cemetery on 40th and Woodland, it is a surprisingly big cemetery with plenty of green space to sit on if you do not mind being close to tombstones. Further

west, and easily accessible via trolley is Bartram’s Garden. Big enough to hold raves in the summer and springtime, it features multiple different gardens and even a kayaking. Entrance to Morris Arboretum near Chestnut Hill is free with a Penn ID and will make you feel like a kid again. It’s a very wholesome space boasts, among others, sculpture gardens, ponds with ducks and swans, and an impressive toy train system featuring miniature versions of some of the quirkiest US tourist attractions.

There are many places where you can to if you’re looking for art. Penn’s very own Institute of Contemporary Art (ICA) and Penn Museum are always free for Penn students. The Philadelphia Museum of Art is free on the first Saturday of each month and you can pay what you wish every Friday after 5pm. The Barnes Foundation is only $5 with Student ID. Cherry Street Pier is a former shipping pier that is now a public space featuring changing exhibits, open studios where you can see the resident artists at work, and Artist and Artisians Markets on the first Friday of each moth. Penn Live Arts offers $10 tickets to any show

with the code PENNSTUDENT.

Philadelphia is a big city, with loads more to offer than the places I’ve mentioned. Exploring Philly and being a productive student don’t have to be mutually exclusive. There are a multitude of Cafés and spaces one can do work at outside of university city. Working off-campus will force you to plan your day more efficiently and will bring more eventful study breaks than working at Van Pelt for the 40th time in a row. It’s a great to know that the city of Philadelphia is there to lean on when Penn inevitably overwhelms you, but why wait until then to explore?

Photo: J. Fusco for GPTMC

CAMPUS

& CULTURE

Penn is a Plantation Society

What does that mean? Simply put, the plantation society is a framework institutions utilize to replicate and promote the racial status quo.

The plantation was not only an economic system but also guided social order and practice.1 The plantation society characterized Black people as caretakers of the elite, pillars of profit, and overall, associated Blackness with servitude. All of these ideas hold true in the University’s labor model. With whiteness as the face of the institution and Black people working at the basis of operations, Penn’s workforce parallels the planatation’s power structure. This model can be put in the context of the University’s past.

The University of Pennsylvania prides itself on being established by the American founding father and leading innovator, Ben Franklin. From signing the Declaration of Independence to the Kite and Key Experiment, Franklin is one of the most notable figures in United States’ history; however, it is remiss to disregard his participation in racialized institutions, such as slavery. There is much ambiguity regarding Franklin’s stance on enslavement: articles simultaneously address him as an enslaver as a young man but also abolitionist in his later life. Despite this ambiguity regarding his personal relationship to slavery, slave ownership is a part of the University’s history. Research done by the Penn &Slavery Project reveals that many of the early trustees and faculty were enslavers. Given that these men provided financial and administrative support to Penn, there is a connection between the operations of the University and the oppression of Black people. Although Franklin may not have directly advocated for slavery, he used the institution to his benefit. Further, Franklin was “too much of an entrepreneur, too interested in his changing society, and too much of a statesman” to not be invested in matters of enslavement.2 The same could be said of collegiate institutions such as Penn. Universities such as the University of Virginia, Brown University, and University of North Carolina have grappled with their relationship to enslavement by encouraging research projects and issuing statements on the topic. While these endeavors are worthwhile, they are not enough—slavery has an en-

during legacy in the university model. Moreover, there is a protection of economic and social interest by sustaining the racial status quo promoted by slavery.

Penn’s past and present cannot be separated from legacies of enslavement. Similar to the role of the plantation, the University of Pennsylvania markets itself as a “powerful economic engine” for the city of Philadelphia. According to a 2016 Penn Today article, the University’s economic impact is profound given that it operates “as a major employer, developer of significant capital projects, purchaser of goods and services, and a hub of research and innovation.” Yet, in all these efforts, how many Black people—who’s labor has been essential in the emergence of Penn as a powerhouse—are tangibly benefitting from the University’s impact? To some extent, this leading “innovation” comes at the expense of the Black community. Just as the plantation and its violence prompted the Black Exodus, the University contributes to Black displacement through gentrification. Just as the plantation suppressed enslaved people’s right to education, the University deprives local schools of adequate resources through its refusal to pay Payment in Lieu of Taxes (PILOTs). Further, what does it mean when the University’s success in healthcare cannot be separated from the dehumanization/degradation of the Black body?

Penn’s connection to the plantation varies in many ways. Whether it be through its economic foundation in the 1700s, its current racialized labor model, or its contribution to Black second-class citizenship, Penn’s upward mobility relies on the maltreatment of Black people. The plantation society acts as a useful way to analyze how racism has barely veered away from the strategies/structures present in chattel slavery. It challenges us to reconsider the myth of racial progress and allows us to question what true liberation may look like. In a Guardian article, Kehinde Andrews compares higher education institutions to slave plantations.3 He states “If the university is the master house, then we are among the tools that maintain the edifice.” It is difficult to conclude with a practical call to action, but I urge you to consider shifting the paradigm in which we view the University. Instead of viewing it as an elite institution driven by innovators like Ben Franklin, we may begin to consider Penn as stagnant, playing a role in racial regression.

CAMPUS & CULTURE

Faith's Declassifed Black Freshman Survival Guide

FAITH DEMPSEY

In a university flled with people from a plethora of backgrounds… dedicated professors… and delicious teriyaki and spicy mayo mixed bowls. Faith Dempsey—that's me—and my black friends try to do the impossible: create a guide that will help you survive Penn. Faith’s Declassifed Black Freshman Survival Guide! *Results may vary*

Tip 1: Follow BSL @pennbsl on Instagram

The Penn Black Student League is where you’ll be able to form a relationship with the black community of Penn. Ensuring you are covered from academic opportunities to social events. Whether you wanna know who was the best dressed this week or where the Raising Canes will be, you must follow them. Everything that's black and is going on at Penn is found there.

“Don’t let the party life distract you from the main goal of getting your diploma. Many people will lose themselves trying to become something they are not so they can be ‘cool’ in the moment. The problem is, they forget that a moment of ‘cool’ doesn't promise a lifetime of security in their dream career and goals.”

Alicia Augustin '26

Tip 2: Go to Rimmer's Ofce Hours and the Africana Seminar Room

Math is hard. Forget hard, it's rough. Some may even say traumatic. However, there are ways to make it a little better. Office hours with Rimmer. Now, before you shut it down and say, “I have a lecture with him, how will this help?” Let me explain.

Rimmer has Office hours on Thursdays from 1112pm in the Africana Studies Dept seminar room. Also, on Thursdays from 1-2pm at the basement of ARCH. Rimmer will help you with specific questions that may feel glossed over during lectures. He’ll give out practice problems with solutions so you can practice on your own. Even if you don’t find the help of Professor Rimmer useful, you will meet many students (mostly black) who will be willing to help and study with you. There, you can continue to build and foster a black environment letting you feel less alone.

Tip 3: Treat all Black Penn Staf with Respect

After coming back from DRL due to a math quiz, every Friday my friends and I go to the Hill cafeteria for breakfast. There I am greeted by my favorite part of Fridays, Ms. Beverly.

Ms .Beverly is one of the cooks at Hill, and while I wait for my omelet, she always has something inspirational to say to me for the week ahead. She talks to me, Charity, and Noella about how proud of us she is and how she can’t wait to see us graduate. She motivates us and pushes us to continue to remember the bigger picture of our purpose as black students at Penn. After plating the omelets, she hands them to us, and says, “Have a blessed day.” The rare pillar that Ms. Beverly exemplifies, however, is found through all of the black sta ff at Penn.

Ms. Tracy at Mcclelland always has a story for me. A meal that was intended to be spent with friends ends up being a 20-minute conversation about the Bio Pond. I notice when she's off from work, and she notices when an exam has drained me.

Even before I had stepped foot on campus, I was embraced by Ms. Teya who took me under her wing and made sure I did the Africana Summer Institute, and for that I am appreciative.

The black sta ff at Penn are my little piece of home. They motivate me, they inspire me, and their smiles illuminate mine.

“Know your priorities before you get onto campus. Before you start school, remind yourself what is at stake and why you came to Penn, make a list— mental or physical—of what’s most important to you and stay focused.”

Kayla Simpson '26

Tip 4: Apply for the Africana Summer Institute

Well if you're currently a freshman in the class of 2026, you're probably reading this article too late. Nonetheless, you can still tell pending freshmen who may be interested! The Africana Summer Institute Program is hosted every year and allows students to engage with Africana studies while building connections with faculty and their peers before stepping on campus while getting a 0.5 cu.

Coming from a PWI, I was shocked by the introduction to such a diverse group of people who were similar and different in my African and African American roots. I met black artists, black advocates, black athletes, black bookworms, and some of whom were black comedians (whether intentional or not). I learned about the African Diaspora and was able to apply new knowledge to the relationships I built during the program. Intellectual conversations, with agreement and disagreements, from all walks of life, ignited my excitement for my future study endeavors at Penn.

The friends that I made in Africana are the group of people that I held onto past new student orientation. One to dance with at 2am. One to pull an all-nighter to finish our essays. One to help me with my hair. Another to send me pimple popping Tik Toks. And one to make sure I see my goals through. They are the people who motivate me to be the best version of myself. The people who laugh with me. The people hype me up while we get ready for a night out. The people I lean on or shed a tear to when life gets messy. My smooches.

“Understand that everyone comes from different backgrounds and that’s okay, do not feel the need to act a certain way just to feel like everyone else, but enjoy change. It can be the best thing for you.”

Noella Idem '26

Tip 5: Find Yourself a Kemi

Find you a Kemi. Well actually you can't because she's taken, but find a bootleg version. Kemi is my peer mentor, my tea spiller, my hype woman, and my mom. Kemi was assigned to me since the Summer Africana Studies Institute and ever since she's been stuck with me. She helped me figure out registration for classes, back when I actually thought the submit schedule button would actually work during the advanced registration period. Gave me advice on figuring out sorority life. Invited me out with her when she knew I needed a break from my workload. Most importantly, she checks in on me to make sure I’m mentally well.

The ability to have someone older who I can depend on and who also has been through a year at Penn has been superbly beneficial. Whether it's a sophomore or senior, find a student who can be your point of contact for anything you need from A-Z.

This is your last year to be a Freshman, enjoy it! Oh to be a freshman, and enjoy the festivities of new student orientation. Oh to be a freshman and enjoy the greenery of the quad as you eat a McClelland bowl. Oh to be a freshman and throw your first piece of toast. But oh how good to be a freshman and Black!

White Plate, Black Hand

KHALID MOHIELDIN

When Deborah Day had her first child, her mother gave her an ultimatum: either she’d go to school or she’d get a job to support her new family. Deborah chose to work. She understudied her mom, a supervisor at the University of Pennsylvania’s Stouffer Dining Hall. Though Deborah had no real cooking experience nor any real desire to become a cook, she stuck with it. Deborah, now a chef at King’s Court Dining Hall, has stayed with Penn for the past 52 years. Even though she’s up for retirement, she has no plans of leaving soon. Deborah’s story is not unlike many of those who work at Penn’s various dining halls: girls and boys who were forced to become mothers, fathers, and laborers, before they became men and women. It’s the same story that Carla Crawford – Cook and right-hand woman to Chef Deborah at King’s Court – told me. Carla originally had plans of becoming a carpenter, and came to Penn with the intent of juggling school and some part-time work. Like Deborah, those plans got upended when Carla became pregnant. She took an opening with one of Penn’s dining halls, and has remained there for the past 30 years.

Deborah, Carla, and several other Black dining hall workers I had the opportunity to talk to loved their jobs. They all mentioned a spirit of community among both Black staff and Black students. “A couple kids were calling me mom and now I started calling them son,” Deborah told me. Another chef told me that he and many other Black staff were clamoring for the Black Penn sweatshirts they’d see students wear. Despite all this, my conversations with these dining hall workers revealed a number of issues that prevented Black staff from getting the respect they deserved. The cooks and chefs I talked to repeatedly mentioned friction between management and staff. In doing so, these workers reflected on the struggles inherent to Penn’s dining ecosystem: the large underbelly of what is essentially Black youth staffing the university’s kitchens and cafeterias. They’ve fought for their respect, and they see the new generation of dining staff doing the same.

Bon Appetit

In 2009, Bon Appetit, an onsite dining and restaurant man-

agement company, became the primary organization managing Penn dining’s halls. While the University itself employs staff at residential dining halls, Bon Appetit oversees both catering staff and the majority of part-time workers. Today, some 150 workers (the vast majority of whom are Black) are employed by Bon Appetit. Since 2009, though, the scope, permanency, and actions of Bon Appetit management has led to a complicated and occasionally hostile relationship between staff and management.

Bon Appetit replaced Aramark, a similar dining management company, and in doing so began their tenure as Penn’s primary dining management service by upending the job security of 185 workers. Penn and Aramark mutually agreed to exit their 10 year contract early, which required the firing of 185 Aramark employees at the University. Though Penn assured those workers that they would be rehired by Bon Appetit, dining workers have continued to complain that job insecurity has become a pattern under Bon Appetit’s tenure.

In fairness, financial insecurity is, in many ways, inherent to dining work. Full-time dining workers, for instance, can’t collect unemployment benefits, even though most don’t work during the summer months. Dining hall employees that don’t have seniority are laid off at the end of every spring, and although many return, reemployment in the fall isn’t guaranteed. Penn and Bon Appetit’s policies, though, have exacerbated some of these issues.

COVID

Numerous workers cited Penn and Bon Appetit’s handling of the pandemic as particularly frustrating. Deborah, Carla, and other Penn full-time dining staff were protected during the pandemic, but some 140 Bon Appetit dining staff were laid off without pay during the spring of 2020. Penn chose not to pay these furloughed workers, creating an unemployment catalyst that is still felt across Penn cafeterias two years later. Even before the pandemic, much of Penn’s dining staff were living paycheck to paycheck. The loss of regular income forced many of these workers to apply for unemployment and seek new jobs altogether. One dining worker of 18 years told the DP, “I’m out here trying to survive, trying to do the best

I can, trying to stay alive everyday.”

The pandemic also highlighted the hierarchical structure of Penn Dining. Bon Appetit staff have reported being paid less than Penn dining staff, despite working nearly identical jobs. Further, Bon Appetit workers do not receive the same benefits as Penn dining staff, including college funds or tuition benefits for their children.

Turnover, though, has been an issue plaguing Penn dining halls both before and after the pandemic. Deborah and Carla both agreed that this past year saw some of the highest rates of employee turnover in their 82 combined years of work with Penn. They couldn’t pinpoint a specific reason as to why turnover has become such a significant issue, though they did mention that a considerable number of employees quit after being misled by Bon Appetit’s hiring managers. For instance, Deborah noted that on multiple occasions, applicants were hired thinking that they would be working in the kitchen, only to discover that they were hired to work the register or the washroom. The confusion led some new hires to quit almost immediately, only further lengthening the understaffing of dining halls.

Unfortunately, turnover isn’t unique to just the kitchens. Turnover among management was also mentioned as a significant issue among dining staff. Deborah described a near constant influx and exodus of new managers. “You’re not taking workers into consideration when you allow that to happen,” she said.

Black History Month

A number of dining hall workers also mentioned conflicts with Bon Appetit management regarding menus and programming for Black History Month. Deborah noted that prior to Bon Appetit’s partnership with the University, dining halls across campus would celebrate Black History Month with food and decorations prepared almost exclusively by Black dining staff. Chefs recalled steam shipthemed carousels, live jazz music, and menus organized by Penn’s Black chefs, including carved turkey, hot peach cobbler, sheet cake, and more. However, in recent years, dining staff have been instructed by Bon Appetit management that they no longer have the same flexibility and autonomy in creating Black History Month menus and programming. Deborah and Carla both expressed that, in the last few years in particular, senior management have nearly completely diluted the February celebrations. “It should be more than just a sheet cake,” Deborah said.

Deborah and Carla furthered that Bon Appetit is quick to line Penn’s dining halls with arrays of decorations and seasonal gimmicks for other holidays, such as Valentine’s Day and St. Patrick’s Day. The two expressed disappointment that other certain cultural holidays, such as Chinese New Year, garnered more recognition and respect from dining management than Black History Month.

Conclusion

The dining hall workers I spoke to had tremendous respect for their jobs and their positions as dining staff. They understood that Penn students do much more living than they do learning. Dining hall staff are an essential part of the Penn ecosystem, feeding thousands of students everyday. Many genuinely loved their jobs and the people they worked with. When I told Deborah I’d never eaten at Kings Court, she looked at me with awe and made sure I promised to come back. There’s a real community to be fought for within those cafeterias. Survival, protection, and growth of that community is essential for our Black ecosystem.

RESOURCES FOR CONFIDENTIAL REPORTING OF SEXUAL ASSAULT, HARASSMENT, AND COERCION:

Public Safety Special Services Unit: https://www.publicsafety.upenn.edu/special-services/

Penn Women’s Center: https://pwc.universitylife.upenn.edu

Counseling and Psychological Services: https://wellness.upenn.edu

The Office of the Chaplain: https://chaplain.upenn.edu

Penn Violence Prevention: https://pvp.universitylife.upenn.edu

LGBT Center: https://lgbtcenter.universitylife.upenn.edu

Office of the Ombuds: https://ombuds.upenn.edu

African-American Resource Center: https://aarc.upenn.edu

Student Health Services: https://wellness.upenn.edu/index.php/

Restorative Practice @Penn: https://csa.upenn.edu/restorative-practices-penn

CAMPUS & CULTURE

The Dark Underbelly of Black Penn

Rape Culture and Its Pervasive Efects

MICHAEL KONU

Foreword

Over the past month, I set out with the hope of understanding how pervasive rape culture is within our Black community at Penn. I conducted interviews with a broad cohort of persons in hopes of developing an informed, nuanced, and inclusive understanding. My conclusions are as follows.

What is Rape Culture?

Black Penn, we have a systemic normalization of rape culture within our spaces, organizations, and leadership. The consequences of which are felt by all of us, but most prominently by Black women of all socio-economic backgrounds and sexual orientations. Rape culture is an amalgamation of our accepted norms and beliefs resulting in an unrelenting victimization of our most vulnerable. For us to begin charting a path forward from our status quo, we need to have an honest and thoughtful discussion about how we got to this point.

Rape culture is defined as follows: “an environment in which sexual violence against women is normalized and excused in the media and popular culture, perpetuated through the use of misogynistic language, the objectification of women’s bodies, and the glamorization of sexual violence, thereby creating a society that disregards women’s rights and safety.” I would like to emphasize that rape culture is not simply limited to the transgressions of individuals, but rather the community wide normalization of a multitude of behaviors that results in sexual violence and rampent

physical and sexual harassment. With that being said the natural next step in our expose is a discussion of the systems of victimization that facilitate it.

Victimization: Pre-Freshmen

Pre-freshman programs have a storied history of being an opportunity for incoming Black freshman to gain early insights, campus exposure, and a social network before officially becoming freshman on campus. However, through my interviews it became evident that they are also a hotbed for alleged harassment, coercion, and emotional manipulation. On a multitude of occasions, there were accounts of inappropriate relationships between mentors and mentees, resulting in a clear abuse of trust. These coercive relationships all followed a familiar pattern, beginning as healthy and helpful and developing into flirtatious. Once flirtatious, there would be coercion into sexual intimacy and the fostering of co-dependecy through emotional abuse. Clearly violating mentor-mentee boundaries and the mission and essence of pre-freshman programs. The fact that these violations occurred in of itself is extremely concerning and emblematic of systematic failures to keep our most vulnerable safe and secure. The lack of due diligence done on those entrusted with mentoring our pre-freshmen is a systemic failure of our most vulnerable; thus facilitating the victimization of our freshmen and preemptively stripping them of their innocence.

Victimization: Parties

Desirability politics creates a hierarchy of existence and determines who deserves love, care, benefits and basic human rights based on seemingly individualistic “preferences.” Throughout my interviews an evergreen theme was how desirability politics defined the experience of many. It would begin at the door with party hosts stripping you naked with their eyes, assessing your likelihood to be a “good addition” to the scene. If you are “desirable” enough you’ll be let in followed by a pack of hungry men. Once inside, you face unrelenting sexual advances, verbal and physical harassment, and predatory behavior—prey in a room full of predators. These behaviors are oftentimes celebrated, normalized, and championed by the organizations and institutions responsible for ensuring the safety of those attending. I found the abject callousness of the bystanders extraordinary. Help is nowhere to be found. Friends turn to silent onlookers, entrenched in a pervasive culture of silence. Allowing a friend to corner her because “she was totally all over him earlier”; allowing a friend to keep getting them drinks because, “Just one more and she’ll definitely let me hit”; letting them grab her waist and brush against her because, “How else was he supposed to get by?” Interviewees lamented how a culture of silence results in: social exclusion, stigmatization of victims, and an entrenched refusal to believe Black women. Our silence is deafening.

Culpability

Black Penn, our Black Student League, Divine Nine, and Umoja are failing us. To rebuild trust with the Black community on campus there needs to be a radical reimagining of the role and responsibility of our cultural organizations. It is BSL’s responsibility to ensure that its members are not known perpetrators and sympathizers of those who are actively responsible for the current state of Black Penn. It is the responsibility of Umoja to ensure that we are not funding constituent organizations that are actively perpetuating the problems responsible for the current state of Black Penn. It is the responsibility of Divine Nine to ensure that their parties and social engagements are not a breeding ground for harassment and coercion. The lack of a coordinated effort by our premier Black organizations to identify the issues, create an action plan for addressing them, and expunging those who have played an active role in perpetuating them is woeful ignorance at best. Regardless, we have an opportunity to demand change from our organizations. Complacency is an enemy of progress. Let us be complacent no more.

POLITICS & OPINION

POLITICS

Superstar Burnout: Stacey Abrams

BLOSSOM IZEVBIGIE

Ithink it’s fair to call Stacey Abrams a star. Ask someone to list prominent black politicians, and other than former President Barack Obama and our current Vice President Kamala Harris, she’s the top answer. She lost her bid for governor of Georgia in 2018 to Brian Kemp but made history as the first Black woman in the U.S. to be a major party’s nominee for governor. Furthermore, in the 2020 presidential election she is credited with a large boost in Democratic votes in Georgia and an estimated 800,000 new voter registrations, flipping Georgia blue, which hadn’t happened since 1992. The national acclaim she garnered made her one to watch in the next coming election. Yet, in the 2022 midterm election, it wasn’t even close. Stacey Abrams lost her second bid for governor of Georgia to Kemp again. With all her clout, how is it possible that she can’t get the win?

Despite Abrams recent rise to stardom she’s not new to politics. Abrams has served in the Georgia House of Representatives from 2007 to 2017 and as the House minority leader from 2011 to 2017. She resigned from her position in the House in 2017 to focus on her campaign for governor. While she didn’t win, with Georgia history and evidence of intense voter suppression it’s not hard to see why. She lost the 2018 race by only 54,723 votes compared to 298,857 votes in 2022. There has to be an explanation for a loss by this wide of a margin.

It certainly can’t be attributed to one thing. So many things have been cited for her loss, lack of turnout, racism, sexism, colorism, and so on and so forth. But I believe in exploring a reason a little more nebulous, a loss of fire. What I mean by a loss of fire is that Stacey Abrams 2022 campaign lacked that “oomph” that her 2018 race did. She wasn’t making any waves. And polling wise, at no point, did she ever hold a lead over Kemp. Somehow, her race seemed over before it even started.

I will say that Abrams seemed too focused on her national endeavors. The Governor of Georgia always seemed like a stepping stone for her. Her sights have always been set on the White House, made clear by her attempts to position herself as a possible choice as Biden’s running mate. But Georgians need someone who is all about Georgia and while she showcased it in 2018 and 2020, it seemed to fall flat in 2022. Biden’s low approval rating and the current state of the economy definitely did no favors as well.

Stacey Abrams is a champion for the right to vote. She did not give up on the good people of Georgia and faced with the challenges of voter suppression, she flipped a state that hadn’t been blue for a Presidential election for 30 years. She is a legend. This loss doesn’t spell the end for her political career. But when it comes to her home state, it seems like it’s time to go back to the drawing board.

On the Hidden Members of the Black Community at Penn

OLIVIA REYNOLDS

Although I’ve only been at Penn for a few short months, in that time, I’ve felt incredibly welcomed by the Black community here. Fondly described as a “mini-HBCU,” everyone has been open and friendly. Living in Hill College House, there’s never a time in the lounges, kitchen, or study rooms that there isn’t a group laughing and talking. Coming from a predominantly white high school, it’s been amazing to finally be surrounded by people who look similar to me. Many of us are of this background, giving us a number of shared experiences to bond and relate over. I also feel that the larger student population here is kind and welcoming, waving on Locust or supporting each other through the rigorous Penn academics. I was worried about Penn being cutthroat, and so far, I haven’t seen any evidence of that fact.

Yet, as much as I appreciate the community that I’ve found, there are some members of it that are overlooked. Many of the people that help run Penn— our security, our maintenance, our dining hall staff— are treated as separate by the students, their interactions greatly differing from how they’d approach, say, a professor. It’s also impossible not to notice that the majority of these employees come from a similar racial demographic— Black. They all do so much for us and keep Penn functioning behind the scenes,

making them all part of the Penn community as well.

Recently, I met a chef at PennPi in Houston Market. He told me about how he was currently back in school earning his GED, saying that he’s evidence it’s never too late to reshape your life. He then went on to share that he’d worked in Houston Market for 20 years, knowing all the students that came to his pasta station, considering them his “children.” He’d suffered the loss of his son, but that didn’t affect his positive demeanor. Afterwards, he told me to have an amazing day, even giving me my pasta bowl for free— just happy to have made a new connection. The simple act of asking someone how their day is can have such a great effect and impact on their lives– and also positively impact yours. I know that conversation left me feeling fulfilled and with a new appreciation for the kindness of strangers.

There’s been occasions that I’ve observed students treating the staff at Penn with less than the respect they deserve. Yes, it’s no secret that things aren’t perfect here. Sometimes the dinnerware isn’t washed properly, or the showers are cleaned less than to perfection. To be honest, there’s even times when a staff member will snap or lash out at you for a simple mistake. However, when you take into account the sheer magnitude of this school (10,000 people, even though it oftentimes

doesn’t feel like it), it’s easier to view these circumstances through a more compassionate lens. When you’re washing thousands of plates or cleaning thousands of showers, it’s difficult to ensure that every single one is done to perfection. And when thousands of students are coming through your station a day, it makes sense that you’d be a little irritable at times. We all have bad days, and we all can act out of frustration. The actions of few shouldn’t affect how we treat the many.

I don’t claim to be a perfect person– there’s times when I’m in a hurry and won’t acknowledge the cleaning lady in the hallway I’m rushing by, too caught up in the demands of my schedule– or be talking with a group of friends in the dining hall, and only fire a quick “thanks” over my shoulder, caught up in recapping the drama of the weekend.

However, I propose that on the days we’re a little less busy, or the mornings we’re in less of a rush, to just extend a simple “thank you,” “how are you,” or “have a great rest of your day!” There’s so little effort required for such a great result.

Alumni Spotlight

YANU KUME-KANGKOLO

Justin Sands

Justin Sands, Wharton ’22, studied Business with a concentration in Finance and Marketing, and he is currently a Corporate Banking Analyst at Citibank.

Justin had always been interested in fashion and music, but like many others, did not consider it an attainable career. It wasn’t until a visit to NYC, where he witnessed people like his cousin working in fashion that the notion of creative jobs being unattainable was dispelled. He recounts the visit, “I came up when I was in middle school, saw his house, saw how he dressed, and it was just different from what I was seeing in Cleveland. So it inspired me not to just dress cool, but to do something with it.”

Years later, while working in NYC the summer before his Senior year, visits to various exhibits and a conversation with his friend and fine artist, Sophie Spellman, about her desire to exhibit her art re-ignited the initial inspiration to do something at the center of music, fashion, and fine art.

Back on Penn’s campus as a Senior no longer playing Football, Justin split his time between school and bringing the idea to life. He recalls wanting to do something that didn’t re-

ally exist around him and the desire to curate the event so as to ensure everyone had a great experience. Described as a “warehouse popup”, the first Mood Red show was held on Black Friday of 2021 in his hometown of Cleveland, OH. It featured local Cleveland brands, a tattoo artist, and fine artists exhibiting all exhibiting their work under red lighting. The event took off with a “chill” and social atmosphere meant to encourage conversation, connection, and exploration among the partygoers. The pace of the event quickly picked up once the DJ came on to mix, drawing people towards the music to dance. The show culminated in a final musical performance to brought it to its end. The success of the first show encouraged Justin to carry on. The second show took place in Philadelphia on March 25th, 2022, this time featuring local Philadelphia artists.

While the first show was still in the works, Justin was frequently asked what his brand, Mood Red, was. His response: “the space between fashion, music, and fine art”. The descrip-

tion was intentionally left open-ended to allow for it to grow and change. “I like what I’ve done but I want to keep exploring what I can do in the space. I don’t know what’s next for it” said Justin.

Justin’s time at Penn proved to be invaluable for carrying out the majority of the backend work for his brand. “Being at Penn gave me a good sense of finances, budgeting, and time management. It gave me a certain amount of confidence” he said. Justin and Sophie worked in tandem while putting together the first show in Cleveland, OH. Yet for the Philadelphia show, the “on-the-ground work” and burden of scouting local talent for the show fell mostly on Justin.

Though success was never a guarantee, failure was never a consideration. Unlike in Cleveland, Justin wasn’t “tapped into the Philly creative scene”, but he was encouraged by the people around him to give organizing the show a try. He proceeded, reassured by the belief that the show wouldn’t fail if he really put his effort into a thorough

preparation and promoting. Thankfully, the people he met at Penn brought him to a creative scene in Philly he would have otherwise not been able to tap into.

In the face of last-minute cancellations by several artists, Justin’s preparation was put to the test, where he persevered and relied on the work done to carry the Philadelphia show through.

His willingness to take risks and ability to come up with ideas are some of the personal qualities he attributes the success of the shows to. “I’ve been lucky to have two fun, safe shows so far”, said Justin. Justin is grateful for all the support he received from the people and creatives he met, at Penn and while putting the show together.

It isn’t until putting together this kind of show that financial limitations became apparent. “There are

Jaia Gillette

lots of inputs that you don’t even think about when you’re throwing events.” Providing drinks, acquiring appropriate lighting, paying for the performers’ fees, and other little things that add up. He recalls needing to be more conservative about what the show would include because he had to stick to a budget. Looking to garner financial support, Justin wrote to a non-profit organization in Cleveland pitching the idea of the show and used the grant he received towards covering the costs of Mood Red’s first event. “Now that I'm working, the issue is time” he said. Having a team to bounce ideas off of and diffuse the work over, would change things for the better, making it easier to put together the next show.

Despite the challenges, Justin plans on keeping Mood Red going for the foreseeable future. “I want to keep moving and I think that I really do en-

joy having parties and getting people together.” With big plans for his first show in New York City, “I won’t be doing the same setup as I have in the past. Those were my first tries at the space and now I want to do my next thing”. Mood Red, “It’s an idea and I know that I want to do it in the future. It could be my own brand, it could be my own firm, or my own agency where I manage people”, he said about what he would like to achieve in the long-term. “I wanted to start this idea. I wanted to put a name on the space,” Justin says he wants to move in the space that Mood Red occupies for as long as possible, expecting its different iterations to reflect his change and growth as a person.

Jaia Gillette, Wharton ’ 21, studied Business Analytics, and Social Impact and Responsibility. Jaia is currently based in New York City, working at Chanel as a Client Analytics Specialist.

Ever since Jaia can remember, she has been using fashion to shape and reflect her identity. Though she grew up watching Project Runway, hand-stitching clothes for my barbies, drawing sketches, styling outfits for herself and friends from a really young age, it wasn’t until her Senior year at Penn that she seriously considered fashion as a career. Growing up first-generation low-income, she had always been pushed to pursue “realistic careers” that would guarantee her a financially stable future. “For the longest, I was just really unsure of what I wanted to do. I just knew that like, for whatever I ended up deciding to want to do, that getting a degree would be pretty help-

ful” she said regarding her choice to study business. However, she realized that the routes her peers were following into investment banking, finance, or consulting simply weren’t for her. “I really wanted to pursue something where I would be motivated to get up and go to my job every day, and I would be satisfied with the work that I was doing”. Not yet knowing how to accomplish it, she had set her mind on applying her Business Analytics skills to working in Fashion.

The field didn’t have a clear path set out, nor did Jaia have someone who had taken a similar track to look towards. So she started taking steps in the general direction of what she thought she wanted to do. One of these

steps was talking to Susan from the Baker Retailing Center. Though she didn’t get a referral, she got reassurance to keep pushing forward because this was something she “wanted to do, had the skills to do, and had the passion for”. Eventually, she found a Retail Performance Internship at Fendi through LinkedIn. Jaia believes bringing her whole self to the application and interview process, “emphasizing how my passions aligned with the position in the industry, and how my skills allowed me to contribute in meaningful ways that would help push their missions forward, I think, was definitely the deal breaker in a lot of cases of me

getting these roles.”

Jaia now works at Chanel as a Client Analytics Specialist where her work centers around helping the company become “client-centric and human-centric by uncovering and harnessing client insights for decision making”. “ For instance, this may look like everything from presenting insights and proposed plans of action to different business partners on client trends we pull through our research and analysis, to creating and implementing clientelling strategies to improve the client experience by catering to their behaviors we’ve uncovered, and even empowering other teams to become comfortable using data to add more color to the client story to support their work across the organization.”

“A common misconception that I think people have about the industry is that you have to be a die-hard artist to thrive”, someone with a long history of working in artistic roles. However, in her

short time being in the industry Jaia has learned that there are so many different types of roles, that “ will, of course, require you to harness your creativity in different ways.” So, “if you have a passion for fashion, pardon the pun, I think you'll be able to find your way in the industry with whatever skillset you have”.

For anyone looking to get into the field, Jaia’s advice is to “put yourself out there and market yourself, even if the road is not clear. Just having these conversations with different people in the field, really saying, this is who I am, this is what I want to do, these are my skills…Even if they don't have something for you in the moment, just making that connection, building a genuine relationship. They'll remember you from these conversations like, ‘Oh,you know what? I did have a conversation with someone about a role like this. Let me call her up and see what she's doing, and see if she's interested’. ” This was the case for her current role at Chanel, which she was referred to by someone who knew that she was looking to do this kind of work.

Being a student at Penn puts you in a position where “if you feel like you even need a smidgin of help, you can go and ask somebody and they will refer you to something to go get that smidgin of help that you need. Whether that's CAPS, Student Disability Services, Student Financial Services, VPUL, STEP, shout-out Teran and Wharton Undergraduate Advising Office, even Baker Retailing Center, or even like self-form student groups.”

In Jaia’s eyes, the greatest resource is the people you find yourself surrounded by, people and classmates who are “so interested in and so great at so many different things”, and the “million people that come and talk to you about a million different great careers.”

“I feel like I learned so many

lessons from Penn as a lot of people will probably attest to. But I think the main lesson that I took away was the clarity in that, the only one who would be able to limit myself was me, and that I really had to avoid putting myself in a box.”

Despite not having someone to look to, she had people around her to look to for support while moving forward. In her words, “people to tell me to keep going and to not set aside my dreams. People who believed in me, people who saw, even when I didn't think that I could end up a fashion.” So, “if the role responsibilities are something you feel like you can do, or you have a history of doing, shoot your shot! The worst someone can say is no!”

The best advice she received while pursuing her career was to “do it scared.” She adds, “uncertainty in the window of change is obviously very scary, but still show up anyway. What no one tells you is that most of adulthood is just winging it anyway. So by fire or force you'll learn to trust in yourself, and you’ll learn to trust in your abilities, and you'll learn to trust that nothing that is meant for you will pass you by, don't let anyone tell you that!”

Long-term, Jaia hopes for her work to inspire people to pursue what they want to do. Her career is proof that “just because there isn't a clear path to what you envision, doesn't mean that it's not possible.” She affirms that “if you make it clear what you want in your mind, and become comfortable with saying no to the things that don't align with that, which can be really really hard especially when you're not sure if you're going to have a safety net—that's how you eventually end up with what you want.”

Adam Reid

Adam Reid, from Washington, DC. graduated from Penn in 2016 with a Bachelor’s Degree in Visual Studies and from The Parson’s School of Design with an Associate’s Degree in Fashion Design in 2020. He is currently based in Portland, Oregon as a women’s lifestyle apparel designer at Nike. His work can be found at www.adamvreid.com

Adam has always been interested in drawing and recalls sketching anime characters along with new outfits for them, eventually drawing a whole fashion line one summer at the tender age of 12. At the time, this was a mere pastime for Adam since internalized homophobia and notions that you can’t succeed in fashion “unless you’re white and European” prevented him from viewing it as a realistic career. Later in life came the realization that the only thing holding him back from pursuing fashion, the career he loves, were the beliefs he held about the industry regarding which people it would allow to thrive. These misconceptions have greatly influenced his personal work, expressing a desire to want to challenge such limiting beliefs, so that, kids that find themselves in similar situations as 12-year-old Adam, feel like they can be themselves without the worry of being discriminated against. “I do everything for the 17-year-old version of myself,” a quote from Adam’s personal Icon, Virgil Abloh, that deeply resonated with him.

In general, his aesthetic is “streetwear adjacent” drawing heavily from Virgil Abloh, Gary Lorenzo of Fear of God, and Heron Preston. For Adam inspiration isn’t limited to runway shows and brands by Black Designers. Inspiration is everywhere, from the mundane to the philosophical. His style is “rooted in theory, but also in personal experience,” often exploring theoretical ways of designing a collection. One such instance was a collection centered around the exploration of a father-son

relationship. The concept was realized via interrogating what it means to take on one’s father’s experience, and use of hand-me-downs from his father as the primary source of material, ultimately finding a way of translating this experience and relationship into something that can be worn on the body in an “artistic-fun-streetwear context.”

Hiro Sol was started by Adam and Kayvon Asemani during their Junior and Sophomore years at Penn, respectively. At the time, Adam had been producing small batches of printed T-shirts and hoodies but wanted to give creating a brand a try. Both being “idea people,” they worked synergistically. Kayvon provided the business knowledge and connections, while Adam focused on the design portion. They first successfully dropped beanies, followed by a release of graphic hoodies which were primarily sold to friends and family. Though stressful, it was an overall fun experience that he wanted to pursue further.

After learning how to sew during his time at Adidas from 2017 to 2018, Adam dropped his first set of hand-dyed and screen-printed T-shirts by him while at Fashion School. The biggest, “most comprehensive launch of the brand” came from a collaboration with one of Adam’s professors at Parsons School of Design who had a fair-trade, ethical production factory in Pakistan. “It was a sequence of denim jackets, hoodies, sweatpants, and kind of oversized garments in general... And all it was, was a profit share with the artisans, and then I got the profits that ended up being sold through that

collection, which was really, really incredible.” Half of the revenue from the sale of the garments was designated for the artisans producing the garments, while the rest of the proceeds went to the brand.

“It was a lot more work than I expected, which is probably why I'm taking a break from my brand just because I want to learn a lot more and understand before I try and do a project like that again," he said regarding the experience.

“It was an eye-opening experience to see how much work really goes on in the back end to those beautiful images and those expensive or inexpensive clothes you see in the real world.” Once Kayvon and Adam parted ways, sustaining the brand and the business logistics of it fell on Adam. This shifted his perspective from focusing on designing to managing finances and the backend work. “It became more about money than it did about the design, and that felt like I was more stressed out about that than the actual fun of it.”

His brand has been a financial cost him to, but failure isn’t a word he would use to describe his experience. “The little kind of missteps or mistakes, I don't necessarily think of as failure, because I feel like failure is such a strong word. It's like that's the end.” Things not working out is just a part of a learning experience that Adam takes as opportunities to learn and improve from.

Hiro Sol served as a trial

and outlet for Adam to explore his design interest. “Now that I've kind of been more seasoned, I want to figure out what the next step is from the more mature version of myself.” He intends on taking the time to learn, to really educated himself, and dive into experimenting without the pressure of having to design for someone else in mind, until he is certain and has thoughtfully about what the next iteration of his brand looks like. “The world doesn't really need that much more clothing” and “I know, that I want to have more of an impact other than just making more clothes.”

Digital fashion is deeply integrated in the work that he does, working from his iPad and 3D software as his primary tools for design. “I’ll take my sketch, and I’ll have my iPad open, or whatever next to me, and I’m starting to build it in 3D around an avatar. So there's a body that I’ll have, that I’ll start to drape the fabric on, the digital fabric, and kind of cut holes and sew things digitally to then generate a silhouette.” From this Adam can print out the flat pattern to then turn into a traditional garment. “So for me, because, I learned this

software to make physical clothes, it was so important that it became seamless for me, because it was like this is how I learned how to draft patterns, to create clothes. So like that piece, I don't think will ever leave me, because that's just my tool now. I don't ever think to just try and sew something or draw something on paper without thinking about it in 3D.”

“Luckily I had the privilege of like being able to afford materials. But, if your dream is to be a fashion designer, money shouldn't stop you from being able to get those skills and put those ideas out there.” As a professor at Parsons, he witnessed first-hand how these digital design tools eliminated many of the financial limitations that come from traditional design. It “is a way to show design skill, design ideas, and think outside of the box using technology without [creating] fabric waste.” Adam recently participated in a Digital Fashion Week and is excited by the prospect of these digital tools challenging many of the antiquated hierarchies and bottom lines that currently dictate the fashion industry.

Adam aims to use fashion as a tool through which to push the boundaries of masculinity from a black perspective. For his Senior

thesis in Fashion School, he designed an entirely digital 3D fashion collection centered around tearing down black masculine tropes and presenting “black masculinity in a softer, more approachable and healing way.”

It was this experience in 3D design software and innovative design that ultimately sent Nike recruiters his way. “I felt like it was a right fit”, providing a way to get paid to engage more deeply in this software. “They really showed me the value of that skill set and software and all those things that I’m really interested in” he said. Additionally, Nike holds a place in black culture, so being able to engage with that from the back end is really exciting and in line with Adam's goals of pushing boundaries from a black perspective.

“I wouldn't say it's for everyone but to get that regimented understanding of how to design in a corporate or more structured setting, gives you a way of thinking that might not be included in your traditional process. So I think there's synergy there, but they are pretty different.”

One of Adam's greatest strengths is his openness to continue to learn, to continue to push things forward, and to continue to innovate. He is open to absorbing whatever he can from the people and spaces around him to improve his designs. He is an idea person, a lifelong learner who doesn’t let his ego get in the way of his learning from people who are younger, quicker, or more successful than he is as well as a good collaborator.

Another part of Penn he carries with him is the community. This includes people he trusts from “being 18 and an idiot on Penn’s campus” and still has a robust relationship with. The same people who he continues to work

with, people like his friend Araba Ankuma, who has photographed the vast majority of the work Adam has done and was the same person who encouraged him to pursue Visual Studies. Adam credits his time at Penn for the way that he thinks about design and how he incorporates theory and philosophy into the work he does, especially his personal work. People who can see Design from an intellectual lens. He says “if you can analyze things that way, and you can find someone you really care about and you like, you're going to collaborate with them for the rest of your life.”

The community extends to the faculty and Professors doing incredible work in the creative space. “Penn has such a wealth of resource, that you could probably find a professor who would have a grant for you to do a project. Not every school has that opportunity to give you money to do something that you want to do.” So he encourages everyone to “learn about the high-level professionals that you're learning from so that you can get that insight.”

A lot of people come out of Penn with a workaholic culture that has been engrained in their heads. Once inspiration hits, Adam spends as much time doing, working, and making as he can until “the itch is scratched.” “I’m locked in, and I just want to do this until I can't do it anymore, which is like, you know, a little toxic,” he says. “Really put yourself in it, but don’t sacrifice yourself for it.” He attributes his success to striking a balance between

dedication to his craft and finding peace, stepping back from his brand being one way of finding peace for himself.

Now at 27 years old, Adam is sure his younger self would be proud of all he has done, striving to be an inspiration for younger kids, not necessarily through the clothes that he makes, but by showing younger folks the work that he has been able to do. Hopefully dispelling the same limiting beliefs he held that initially dissuaded him from pursuing a career in Fashion Design when younger. He is grateful for all the people that supported him along the way and always encouraged his creative pursuits even when he was determined to follow a more “traditional Ivy League path” and be a medical doctor.

For the people interested in design, Adam invites you to reflect on two questions: “What do you bring to the table? What is it that you see that doesn’t exist anywhere that you feel like you can create? As long as you have a voice, as long as you know why you want to be doing it, put the work in.”

“It doesn't have to be everything that you do. You don't have to be a fashion person to do any of these things. You can come from whatever field and make incredible design work because it's about perspective.”

Self-Expression through Personal Style

YANU KUME-KANGKOLO

Personal style is not what you wear. It is how you wear what you wear. It is the combination of individual choices about hair, clothing, jewelry, layering, body art, color scheme, fit, feel and the interaction between them all. Everyone has style, and all style is good style, but what really sets apart the style of one person from that of another is authenticity. Authentic style is personal style, and there is no mistaking it because personal style speaks volumes when it reflects the person embodying it. When authentic, personal style is the easiest way to present to the world who you are and how you feel. It tells the story of a person without the need to utter a word.

Personal style does more than communicate to the world. It can be a way of exploring one’s identity as a complex individual. Whether you feel comfortable carrying, wearing items of cultural significance, speaks to how you feel about what these items represent in your mind, be it religion, ethnicity, gender, ideology, etc. Items that have been passed down from my parents or family members, I regard differently. Wearing them has a stronger meaning that is closer to my emotional self and I tend to wear them on occasions when I want to be closer to home.

Authentic personal style and self-expression go hand in hand, but so does self-care. Staying true to one’s self requires actively rejection of self-imposed limitations or societal expectations of what one is supposed to present as. Social media and fast fashion have made us more aware of fashion

trends and “how to dress for society," making it harder to avoid their influence on how we dress. “I do not follow fashion, I am not tuned into fashion trends at all. So if someone were to call me fashionable, it would be indicative to me that I am absorbing my identity from the space I'm in and not projecting it from within,” said Lee Reid, a Wharton Sophomore.

But our environment also plays big role how easy it is to be authentic in our self-expression. Places like Penn “attract a degree of perfectionism” says Elom Vedomey, a College senior. Especially as a Black woman, “you’ve got to be put-together all the time, you’ve gotta be on all the time.” Sustained neglecting of your needs to fulfill the expectations, or perceived expectations of others is draining, and deliberate rejection of these expectations is a form of self-care. Elom frequently flaunts vibrant hues of different colors in her hair and has taken to heart this form of self-care, actively pushing back on the perfectionism and leaning into “imperfectionism.” In her words, “I’ve got colored hair and I don’t care if you think I'm unprofessional or not. I’ll do what I need to do. I got here, I'm getting through.”

It’s easy to keep presenting yourself in the same way over and over when you have limited exposure to the vast array of possibilities available. “One thing that I try to do is meet people off-campus because Penn is very much a bubble. Talking to people at Temple, connecting with people at Drexel, getting exposure to that way of life and incorporating that into my

Penn way of life. Not just with fashion, but in general” said Elom about what she has done to become more comfortable with experimenting and refine her style.

For many student, especially those of color, Penn can feel very lonely and alienating. Lee leaned into this “lack of being perceived” and set her mind to “wear what I want, cause it doesn’t matter.” Lee has found highest creativity in her personal style because of this loneliness.

Other students like Brian Cory, a junior in the College, have found groups of fellow students at Penn with similar styles which in turn has allowed them to delve deeper into that facet of their style and made them feel more comfortable dressing the way they want to.

Just as we are, our personal style is dynamic and in a constant flux that mimics our personal development. The clothes that once encapsulated you may now fall flat, and the clothes that never quite fit may in time become staple of you personal style. This was the case for Brian Cory: “Becoming more extroverted as person has made me more open to wearing louder clothes.” A similar situation occurred with Lee, “As I matured and was able to fit into my mom’s old clothes, I was able to really hone in on a style that captured my maturity and my black femininity.”

Altering items from one’s closet that no longer resonate with them is way of carrying them with

you through your stylistic journey. It’s a tactic Elom frequently uses: “I’ve built a lot of my wardrobe from crafting. I have some sewing experience and I would upcycle clothes, give them a new life. I had 20 black T-shirts that I made into a big skirt.” Sometimes, changing the way a piece is worn is enough to derive from it the story you want to project.

Developing an authentic personal style doesn’t require giving up the Fashion world or other people as a source of inspiration. The synergies between us and our environment are as much a part of us as anything else. However, if our environment, the groups we belong to, or want to belong to, completely dictate what how we present, then we have lost touch with ourselves.

Penn Cheer: The Unseen Athletes of Penn

CHANNING-JAYE SCOTT

During what was labeled Penn Football’s best season to date, students and members of the Penn community seemed to forget about the athletes performing beside the field, Penn Cheerleading. While Penn Cheer has become the face of hurrah and huzzah for Penn Athletics, student-athletes on the cheer team are in numerous ways treated less than other Penn Varsity sports, mainly in the aspect of funding. Penn Cheer attends every home football and basketball game, pep rally for other varsity sports, welcome weekend for first-year students, and homecoming event for Penn Athletics. However, even with all of the team’s responsibilities, Cheer receives fewer student-athlete benefits than other sports. Specifically, student-athletes in other varsity sports, like football or basketball, are given mental health aid, student tutoring, and workable training facilities. Beyond the team’s lack of external support from Penn Athletics, black cheerleaders also experience a lack of diversity. Additional hardship lies in providing mentorship amongst the few black cheerleaders and creating a safe space for them. In order to gain more insight into these points of contention within Penn Cheer, co-captain Bobbi Cooke ‘24, Jasmine Carter ‘25, and Kennedy Williams ‘25 were asked about their experiences as black cheerleaders on a majority white team as well as future changes regarding diversity and funding. Although the Penn cheerleaders can rally great enthusiasm for Penn sports teams, their roster stretches no more than 20 athletes, and only four currently identify as black. However, despite the number of black cheerleaders still being small, Carter, who is going into her second year on the team, describes that with the increased diversity of this year’s new member cohort, she feels more comfortable than before on the team. Similarly, even with this year being her first season on the team, Williams states, “There is not an extensive amount of black cheerleaders on the team, but I do not feel underrepresented or unseen.” Williams remarks that one of the reasons she felt comfortable joining the team in defiance of the minimal diversity was due to the mentorship she received from black cheerleaders like Carter and co-captain of the team Bobbi Cooke ‘24, who identifies as Afro-Latina.

Such sentiments are a testament to the efforts of Cooke, who describes her excitement for the new members, as she remembers that when she joined her first year, there lacked a presence of minorities overall on the team. “When I joined my freshman year, I was one of four new members, 3 of them white and me.” Cooke continues, “I remember only one other girl on the team being black, and as a result of there being a lack of community my first year because of COVID, there was a lack of mentorship.” However, Carter and Williams have never faced explicit forms of racism on the team, stating there is a built tolerance for ignorant comments by other team members. Ignorant comments that Carter and Williams once ignored are now encouraged to be discussed amongst the team due to the new coaching staff. Carter and Cooke both remark on the significant difference between coaching staff through the emphasis on open forum communication. A positive aspect of creating an open communication forum is that no team member should ever be fearful of bringing up incidents or experiences that might have made them uncomfortable. However, from the point of view of Williams, there is a need to visually and physically see action taken so that concerns brought up during conversations do not become null and void. Carter seconds that there lies a disconnect between the conversations surrounding teammate concerns and the action being taken.

Cooke, a team leader, discusses that this disconnect appeared during the summer leading up to the season due to the lack of coaching leadership. As a result, Cooke and the other team captain took the team into their own hands. They started team bonding early, as creating a welcoming environment determines how the team moves forward on campus and aspects of communication. With a new coaching staff this year, Cooke felt that captains were pushed further into a coaching role, as the new coaches needed to become more familiar with how unique Penn cheer is. A particular aspect of cheerleading is the lack of funding the team receives. In the discussion, Cooke points out the significant difference between Penn Cheer now and what the program was ten years ago. The most significant difference in funding is apparent in

the fact that ten years ago, Penn Cheer had the financial resources to travel to away games. The limited budget of Penn cheer can not account for travel to a Men’s Basketball game at Drexel University, a campus less than a 4-minute drive away. Thus the team would have been required to pay for an Uber or walk.

Strangely enough, Penn Cheer is owned by the marketing department, as a result of the team being highly requested mainly in the avenue of marketing, which could explain why Penn cheer receives different student-athlete benefits than other athletes. For example, Penn Cheerleading is not even considered a sports organization on the Penn Athletics website. In past efforts by Cooke to reach out to marketing for further conversations on funding, Cooke is always met with, “You guys are just cheerleaders.” Comments like such belittle the strength and time required for cheerleading, a predominantly woman-led sport, where members are required to lift people’s bodies. Further differences are shown in just the training facilities available to the team. With practices being held at Weightman Hall, a significantly run-down building with no A/C, cheer season beginning in August, and the team not even having access to a water jug, practice conditions in comparison to sports such as football and basketball are significantly unfair. On top of the facility conditions, Penn Cheer shares the space of Weightman Hall with club sports such as ping pong, renting out two-hour time slots at a time, and practicing stunts on old deflated tumbling mats. This shows that Penn Cheer is considered closer to the level of club sports than varsity sports, but Penn Cheer still has more extensive role requirements than club sports do. As Penn Cheer is still considered a varsity sport and recognized by the National Collegiate Athletic Association, attendance at practice, games, pep rallies, or alum events are mandatory. In conversations between Cooke and the head of marketing, Rebecca McKenney, comments have been brought up on the unethical policies of the horrible practice conditions, but no changes have been made.

The disconnect between Penn Cheer and Penn Athletics results from the team being seen on a lower playing field than other varsity teams. Discretion may be the reaction to the assumption that Penn Cheer does not compete. However, Penn Cheer has competed outside Penn Athletics, such as attending the National Cheer Association Nationals in Daytona, Florida. Although the team is not currently competing due to the new transition period with the coaching staff,

the team’s budget would not allow them to travel to Drexel, let alone Florida. Cooke explains her point of view that the disconnect also stems from an attitude from varsity sports like football and basketball, which could win with or without Penn Cheer. Even though in previous seasons, varsity football’s statistics were not bringing in corral or attendance. The lack of connection between sports would relate to the lack of funding and respect if there were more internal conversations with Penn Athletics staff.

Looking forward, Williams, Carter, and Cooke look to increase the presence of Penn Cheer on campus. Penn Cheer is small; it does not have to be a minor sport. With increased members, visibility would increase on campus and within Penn Athletics. Hoping to incentivize black cheerleaders in high school interested in Penn, there is hope for Penn Cheer to host hopeful athletes over Homecoming Weekend or allow open practices, just like football does. With time and more cheerleaders addressing the secondhand treatment the team receives, cheerleading experiences at Penn can help the athletes receive the resources they need and deserve.

BSAP: Creating Community that Penn Athletics Lacks For Black Athletes

CHANNING-JAYE SCOTT

With an undergraduate population of nearly 12,000 undergraduate students and a black student population estimated to be 890, the black student-athlete population at Penn is minuscule in comparison. Black students must already prepare for social exclusion experiences by attending a predominantly white institution, leaving the uniqueness of being a black student-athlete less than desirable. Institutions like the University of Pennsylvania should emphasize the creation of communities within the black student population and Penn Athletics that could provide a safe space for communication through discussion. Recognizing the need and want for a platform for black student-athletes inspired the creation of BSAP. Black Student-Athletes at Penn (BSAP) is a student-run organization founded by Kennedy Suttle '22 of women's basketball, and Alex Imegwu '22 of men's basketball, during the 2021-22 school year. The purpose of BSAP is to create a community and safe space for Black student-athletes on campus at the University of Pennsylvania through events, networking, and dialogue. In discussion with the current president, Autumn Leak '23, captain of the volleyball team, and Rachel Blackwell '24, breaststroke and sprint freestyle swimmer on the women's swim team, amongst other members of the BSAP board, they commented on the impact of BSAP and

hopeful plans for the future.

An implemental purpose for creating BSAP was merging the lack of connections black student-athletes have to the larger black community on campus. In an interview with Autumn Leak, Leak discusses how she struggled to integrate into Penn's black community due to her obligations with her team for training. Feeling isolated as a black student-athlete is not uncommon due to the responsibilities being a varsity athlete brings. However, there can be additional discomfort and solitude with a team dynamic unwelcoming. Leak explains her experience of being in the locker room after practice and feeling uncomfortable using her shower cap or even explaining to teammates the process of doing her edges before games. Although Leak's experiences on the team have improved over time as more black volleyball players are on the team, similar encounters have occurred on other sports teams. For example, Rachel Blackwell was inspired to become a leader of BSAP from her experiences of being the only black athlete on Penn Women's swim team and in the Ivy League; she did not feel she belonged on the team at first. In addition to the lack of diversity attributed to her experience, Blackwell was a walk-on to the swim team, not

a recruit, and she remains one of the few women's swim team members to do so. Blackwell remarked on the feeling of being insecure about her place on the team, as being the only black swimmer brings plenty of challenges that no one can similarly relate to. In certain sports like football or track and field, teams have a more prominent aspect of competing with black athletes. BSAP is still a highly needed outlet to help each black student-athletes build a community that represents all aspects of themselves, which is essential to growth and success, within and outside the aspects of one's sport. Despite the essential presence of BSAP within the Penn Athletics community, one could wonder why such an organization was not already present on campus. Leak and Blackwell claim that people did not realize the need for BSAP or space for black athletes on campus. After the political protests of Black Lives Matter in 2020, widespread awareness developed surrounding the issues and experiences of black people and students. As a result, black athletes from predominantly white institutions were placed at the forefront, allowing athletes to be more vocal about their experiences. With institutions such as Penn benefitting in numerous ways from a player's image, likeness, and athleticism, black athletes should already have the resources and community they truly need outside of their sport to succeed.

Thankfully, with the help of the loud and prominent voices of faculty members Brian Petterson, Rosemary Burnett, and Marcus Mosley, BSAP was created smoothly. Anticipating the organization's future success and according to Leak and Blackwell, the organization has much work for the future. To expand the safe community for black student-athletes, Leak hopes to partner with similar organizations in the Ivy League, such as Yale, Dartmouth, and Columbia, to plan a summit to learn more from Ivy League alums of success in identity after college. Overarchingly, Blackwell hopes to incorporate a formal aspect into BSAP that focuses on the mental health of athletes and opens dynamic conversations that motivate black student-athletes to ask for help. Moreover, BSAP does hope to incorporate club sports into its events and community. Although this year is the inaugural year for BSAP, and the program will focus on varsity athletes, by including club sports athletes in BSAP, Blackwell wants to inspire other black athletes at Penn to feel empowered within their skills to do walk-on tryouts for sports teams. Blackwell had initially planned to participate in club swimming, but Blackwell felt that if she had not tried out for the varsity women's swim team, she would have constantly been regretful for not pushing herself. Not only should BSAP's presence be a safe space and community for athletes, but also, within that community, motivate them for more. Plus, incorporating club sports into BSAP would remind people that Title IX, which prohibits sex-based discrimination, also extends to intramural and club

sports. Broadly with BSAP's impact on campus, leadership hopes to make resources that varsity athletes benefit from available to club athletes to grow the community of BSAP through the different athletics avenues.

Mainly looking at the institution of Penn as a whole, BSAP hopes that change will come through its presence on campus and within Penn Athletics. When discussed with Leak and Blackwell, both hope that Penn will use the voices of black athletes to show the more extensive experience of being a black athlete at a predominantly white institution. Leak states, "Recruits are shown the different spaces on campus, but what would be even better is if Penn would fund the different affinity spaces and student organizations on campus instead of just using such spaces and organizations as publicity." By funding organizations such as BSAP focused on the advancement of minority groups on campus, black athletes could feel comfortable committing to Penn with the trust that minority athletes are not disadvantaged or silenced. In addition to funding, BSAP would like to see more listening sessions between athletes and administrators of Penn Athletics, as the importance and purpose of BSAP are to ensure that all athletes' voices are equally heard.

Discussing with other BSAP board members, such as community outreach coordinator Iyanna Rodgers '25, a women's basketball team member, touches on her hopes for BSAP's growth. Off-campus, Rodgers looks forward to planning events in partnership with Philadelphia organizations focused on advancing younger athletes in collegiate athletics. On campus, Rodgers thinks that BSAP will grant black students tremendous pride to play at Penn, as identity is an important topic and issue. In addition, by having a community and group where black athletes can talk freely will grant black student-athletes a sense of home and familiarity. Similarly, BSAP's secretary Tumi Oyinda '25, a track and field athlete, described BSAP as an additional representation for black and black student-athletes. Because the black community on Penn's campus is already minuscule and the black student-athlete community even more minuscule, through BSAP, a community is found to merge such a limited community.

The ultimate goal is to increase the black community by forecasting the success of BSAP as an organization through creating affinity organizations for black students on Penn's campus. By increasing the voice of black student-athletes on campus in terms of visibility, identity, and overall voice. Within the black community hopefully, BSAP can help combat the notion that black student-athletes lack the space or time to form connections and relationships in the larger black community. The newly formed platform given to BSAP leaves one to await the significant changes and outcomes BSAP will bring to the black community.

BOARD PICTURED

KHALID MOHIELDIN

ASHA VINCENT

KIMBERLY CARLTON

CHANNING-JAYE SCOTT

BLOSSOM IZEVBIGIE

JAYLA RHODES

ELLA ESEIGBE

KEMI OGUNYANKIN

TARAH PAUL

MARCUS RAMIREZ

arts

WRITERS AND BOARD NOT PICTURED

YANU KAME-KANGKOLO

ADEOLUWA FATUKASI

FAITH DEMPSEY

MICHAEL KONU

OLIVIA REYNOLDS

CHANNING-JAYE SCOTT

MASON PERRY

NAIMA SMALL

SEBLEH ALFA

TYEIRRA LYNCH

CAROLINE SENDE

ZAYNAB SANOGO

SHELTON MERCER

MODELS

AISHA ALI

ALLYANNA LEWIS

CALYLE PEYTON

CHRISTINA SAUVEUR

GENEVA WILLIAMS MARIAM K TIGANE

OUMOU DOUMBIA

OUMY DIASSE

OMOTOYOSI ABU

RACHEL BLACKWELL

thank you