DYSTOPIA: FEM Spring 2020

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Note from the Editor Since the beginning of colonial occupation, Indigenous people have warned others about the dystopian customs of colonialism, capitalism, and industrialization. However, despite the predictive ability of early Indigenous political thought, their warnings were disregarded as the white ruling class established violent and unsustainable institutions. The genocide of Indigenous people and the devaluation of their knowledge production contributed to our inability to heed their warnings and divest from these institutions. As a result, our planet edges closer to ecological decline due to a corporate-induced climate apocalypse. Additionally, western governments maintain an iron grip on the Global South’s resources through insidious and brutalizing practices. Many of those in power are invested and loyal to the barbaric systems in place to further exploit vulnerable populations. All this, in combination with the effects of the global pandemic, makes it entirely too difficult to maintain a revolutionarily hopeful vision for the way the world ought to be. What does one cling to when our material realities produce nothing to be hopeful for? Scholar, activist, and revolutionary Black feminist Angela Davis advises that we all “have to act as if it were possible to radically transform the world. And [we] have to do it all the time.� This means that despite the reflex hopelessness we all feel during difficult times like this, we must reframe our thinking to include radical hopefulness and a radical optimism that the world can be better than it is. The psychological effects of colonialism and capitalism forces us to adopt a fixed mindset and believe that the world as we know it, cannot change.This false belief works in the favor of these ruthless structures because if we believe that nothing can change, we stop workingtowards a future that is different and better than what we know. A refusal to be optimistic about the way things ought to be is a direct surrender and compliance to the way things are. We must utilize radical optimism and reimagine what utopia can be for the vulnerable populations at the mercy of these institutions. While scholars and grassroots organizers have outlined what utopia might look like in the queer, feminist, or Black imagination; must remember that the foundation of these utopias are weak if not firmly grounded in community and collective action.

Each piece in the Dystopia Issue attempts to deconstruct the ways dystopia manifests in our imagination, interpersonal relationships, and daily habits. Fefe analyzes the dystopia poorly hidden in our media as digital blackface becomes profitable for influencers and content creators. Angela discusses the nuanced ways in which we can reimagine utopia for ourselves and our communities. All the writers, designers, and editors of the Dystopia Issue worked hard to produce this timely and necessary project in the midst of a global pandemic. As we all navigate our personal dystopias, we must not get bogged down or discouraged by the pain and trauma we experience. We owe it our ancestors and descendants to work tirelessly and enthusiastically to shift the world as we know it towards a joyful, sustainable, and equitable future. Chiamaka Nwadike Editor-In-Chief

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18 Dystopia Issue Photoshoot Devika Shenoy Lilah Sniderman Charlie Stuip

6 resurgence Tessa Fier Art by Hailey Lynaugh 7 Flesh to Mist to Nothing Charlie Stuip Lauren Cramer

20 Dystopia Issue Playlist

10 Candid Quarantine Paloma Nicholas

22 The U.S. Education System has Never Been a Great Equalizer Maya Petrick Art by Malaya Johnson

12 Hidden : TV’s Fictional Reality Shannon Kasinger Art by Shannon Boland

25 Digital Blackface Ifueko Osarogiagbon Art by Emma Lehman

14 Design & Video Shannon Boland Hailey Lynaugh Lilah Sniderman

28 Love Shouldn’t Hurt Samantha Marmet Art by Malaya Johnson

16 HOW DO YOU FEEL? Joy Chen

30 Believing in Utopia Angela Patel Grace Ciacciarelli

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Editor-in-Chief Chiamaka Nwadike Design Directors Shannon Boland El Gomez Malaya Johnson Arts & Creative Editor Meg Anderson

Designers Shannon Boland Joy Chen Grace Ciacciarelli Lauren Cramer Malaya Johnson Emma Lehman Hailey Lynaugh Paloma Nicholas

Campus Life Editor Lia Cohen

Video Directors Alana Francis-Crow Jemina Garcia

Dialogue Editor Alana Francis-Crow

Cover Photography Lilah Sniderman

Gendertainment Editor Kayla Andry

EIC Portrait Andri Santos-How

Politics Editor Heidi Choi

Web Layout Shannon Boland Ophelia Yang

Assistant Section Editors Natalie Eastman Shanahan Europa Jemina Garcia Paloma Nicholas Catharine Pham Rhea Plawat Helen Zhong Copy Editors Kelsey Chan Maya Lu Amanda Nelson Leila Modjtahedi Sophia Obregon Taryn Slattery Marlee Zinsser Writers Tessa Fier Shannon Kasinger Samantha Marmet Paloma Nicholas Ifueko Osarogiagbon Angela Patel Maya Petrick Charlie Stuip

find us at femmagazine.com contact us fem@media.ucla.edu follow us @femnewsmag FEM, UCLA’s feminist newsmagazine since 1973, is dedicated to the empowerment of all people, the recognition of gender diversity, the dismantling of systems of oppression, and the application of intersectional feminist ideology for the liberation of all peoples. FEM operates within an anti-capitalist, anti-imperialist, anti-racist framework. Our organization seeks to challenge oppression based on sexuality, gender, race, class, ability, religion, and other hegemonic power structures. We create a wide range of compassionate multimedia content that recenter narratives often rejected or ignored within mainstream media. Beyond journalism, FEM engages in actionable praxes by building coalitions with other campus and community members. As self-reflective feminists, we are committed to unlearning and relearning alongside our global audience as the way we understand our sociopolitical landscape continues to transform.

Web Managers Haley Kim Ophelia Yang Managing Editor Helen Zhong Radio Manager Marion Moseley Assistant Radio Manager Julia Schreib Social Media Manager Brenna Nouray Social Planning Manager Cindy Quach Finance Directors Alice Blackorby Jessica Cen Neha Dhiman Maya Kramer

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FEM Newsmagazine is published and copyrighted by the ASUCLA Communications Board. All rights are reserved. Reprinting of any material in this publication without the written permission of the Communications Board is strictly prohibited. The ASUCLA Communications Board fully supports the University of California’s policy on non-discrimination. The student media reserve the right to reject or modify advertising whose content discriminates on the basis of ancestry, color, national origin, race, religion, disability, age, sex or sexual orientation. The ASUCLA Communications Board has a media grievance procedure for resolving complaints against any of its publications. For a copy of the complete procedure, contact the publications office at 118 Kerckhoff Hall @310-825-9898


resurgence written by Tessa Fier art by Hailey Lynaugh i. they could not raze the mountains and so they were stripped and gutted and mutilated

iv. the bone white wind is vengeful the way it rips apart bricks the colonizing buildings in ruins and now we are being stitched back together our hollows becoming padded with moss

ii. wind whips heavy off the ocean into this steel-framed wasteland in the luminescent bus tunnels filled with suffocating breaths I have never felt so lonely

each day we find new evils and each day we set them aflame

at night I smell the moon hanging fresh and out of reach and I scream and watch windows close against me

v. the trees are relentless this year in their blooming. I think that we are each an estuary: mud-filled and nourishing.

the forest near my home shrinks every time I blink iii. I am told that my worth is in consumption the saccharine-sweet taste of neglect coats my tongue leaning over the toilet with two fingers in the shape of a gun down my throat I sleep for decades and dream about the monster Hydra who was deathless who grew two heads whenever one was cut who was killed by fire I hunger for a matchbox so that this destruction may know me petroleum pools in my stomach it scaffolds my throat and makes its toxic home in the grooves of my teeth the doctor diagnoses me a product of suffering

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Flesh to Mist to Nothing written by Charlie Stuip art by Lauren Cramer Jean woke up like horses do–standing on the beach–wearing a ring that wasn’t hers. She knew nothing of her cold, bare feet, of the silver ring around her middle finger, of the smell of smoke on her clothes. She turned away from the ocean, from the black rocky outcropping where river curved into sea. The sun wasn’t up and her feet were blue. A dim, creamy glow pushed through the clouds. Yesterday Jean sold some weed, ate a can of baked beans, took a nap. There was no explanation for her waking up on the beach eight miles from her home, an hour before dawn, smelling like fire and something else...stress sweat and meat. Her feet hit highway. When the dispensaries shut down, as most businesses did when barter became the norm, she became the only supplier in her sparsely populated town. It was how she stayed fed. It was how she stayed mellow. She looked at the ring on her middle finger. It was too big, a man’s ring. Her feet were numb to the gravel on the road, but her hands were chattering, the cartilage tense and cold.

“Hey! I know you!”

A man darted toward her like a crab from inside a thicket of trees. Jean jumped and walked faster, almost a jog. Like hers, his bare feet slapped the road in a muted, fleshy rhythm.

“Stop! You have to remember me!”

Jean turned around. He was on her heels now, desperate eyes, holding up his hands in surrender. She noticed a tan line on his middle finger and shoved her hands in her pockets, something unfamiliar lurching in her stomach, a question lodged in her throat. Was he on his way to the same beach? Did he wake up there with an empty head, like she did? “Please.You traded your grandma’s old map books for some LED panels. That was only a week ago. You have to remember me.”

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Jean afforded him another glance. Nothing. She didn’t recognize him.

“Fuck off, creep.”

He stopped following her after that. He fell onto his butt, cursing, gasping. Jean didn’t look back–missing an act of alchemy–as the man slowly dissipated into a green mist. Minutes later he was in the wind. Why did she leave him there? Self preservation, sure. Jean was as neighborly as anyone else after a total societal collapse. She helped Ted next door lug a solar panel onto his roof. Next day she found him sneaking around her place looking for artillery. Treacherous bastard. Ted was a relatively harmless guy, who had even made her surly grandmother laugh in the old days. When he broke into her house a week ago, she should’ve cursed him out and sent him on his way. But instead she snarled and shoved.You fucking bottom-feeder! Get out of my house! Get out! Getoutgetoutgetout! His eyes were wide and watery as he backed away, scooting himself across the floor on his hands, afraid if he got up Jean would push him down the back steps. A week later she caught Ted lumbering down her back steps. All of her weed plants had been clipped to nothing. Jean refused to carry a gun. That was a point of no return. The fear it would take to arm herself. Her grandma came home one day with a hunting rifle and ten boxes of rounds. Look where that got her, melting away under an abandoned crop of artichokes. In the month before she died, paranoia ate at her until she couldn’t function. That was Jean’s last memory of Grandma: sitting at the kitchen table with her hands tensed around a nightcap, the rifle propped against her leg like a lap dog. It was buried with her now. The trees thinned and the town took shape. Buildings slowly softening into mulch. Georgette sat on her porch smoking her pipe, probably full of bud Jean traded for fresh eggs last week. Georgette had a brood of hens in her yard. She kind of looked like chicken–skinny neck, skinny legs, plump midsection, hair like rust. Jean waved but Georgette only scowled, puffing like a chimney. Jeez.

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The marquee of the old movie theater was a block up, big plastic letters spelling a third of a blockbuster title. What was the smash hit that summer? She should know, she put the damn letters on the marquee. Pinky and his boys lived there now, ruining all that red velvet with their piss. She sold an ounce to one of Pinky’s lackies yesterday. Maybe she had taken something while she was there that wiped her out. Jean pounded on the door.

“Pinky! Mops! Lopez! Anyone home?”

Nothing. “Hello?”

“Who is it?” Mops muttered through the door.

“The fucking Gestapo. Who do you think? It’s me, Jean.”

Silence.

“I sold you weed yesterday.You should remember, you underpaid me for it.”

“I don’t know that name.”

“Stop being a shit and let me in.”

Silence. “I need to know if you gave me something yesterday, something that could make me black out.”

“Like I said, I never heard of a Jean in my life.”

The sound of boots walking, fading. Fuck. Was she dreaming? The sky was desaturated, a distant washed-up cousin of blue. But her feet hurt. Nothing hurts in her dreams. She thought of the man who reminded her of a desperate crab, scuttling for recognition. Her mouth tasted sour. Acrid like the sky.

Did she lift the silver ring from that man?


venge. He had stolen her livelihood. Without it, what was she? It wasn’t fear that drove her to violence. She wasn’t afraid like her grandma was, brooding at all hours. It was rage. A snarling rage. Jean went back to the road. In a big revving sound, Pinky’s truck drove by, his boys a pack of coyotes in the back. They yowled a storm. Her feet carried her, back where she came. The road extended like a tongue, and Jean was wandering back into the body. The world darkened as she went. Retracing her way through the trees she heard it first. A shhhhhhhh sound. Her bloody feet met cold sand. What happens when you misplace your light? When listlessness rots into anger? What happens when you lose yourself to the predator? The silver ring fell to the sand as Jean’s fingers became green apparitions. Then her wrists, her shoulders, the points where her neck met her ears. Flesh to mist to nothing. Jean thought she smelled human as she evaporated. A salty, milky, lime smell. The scent under a lovers shirt. Of ankles in bed. Car seats on a hot day...and Jean was in the wind.

She walked towards her apartment. Nothing hurt in Jean’s waking life either. For the most part she was stoned and listless. Today nothing was muted. She felt like an animal, a dog, sensitive to every variation. And hurting. She was hurting. In the last decade the town had lost more than half of its population. But when she thought about it, she couldn’t recall why. Just a murky purple headache. She couldn’t remember who her first grade teacher was, her aunt’s name, her first roommate. Just purple. Like an hour past dusk on a hot, lonely day. Lugging herself up the back steps, she fumbled for her keys. Fumbled at empty pockets. Then panic. Breathing. Cursing. Her door didn’t even twitch under rageful bare-footed kicks. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Her breath was ragged. When it slowed she noticed Ted’s place. What was a powdery pink shade of house paint was now a charcoal husk–any part of the structure that went unburned smeared with oily black ash. Jean floated down the back steps into Ted’s yard. A trampoline sat dormant and rusty. The lawn overgrown, a lush green from the Spring rains. Ted used to stand on his lawn, bending his knees and elbows hours before a rain, feeling it’s humid precursor. She didn’t bother to call Ted’s name, wandering in through the back door.Yes, there was the smell of burnt wood, but that wasn’t what made Jean reel. The smell of melted plastic, and most of all, the smell of barbeque landed like a gutpunch. It was familiar, it had been clinging to her clothes all day. Jean stumbled and gagged, purging bile onto the ash of his carpet. She pushed forward into the kitchen. Maybe there was a gas leak. The old man probably lost his sense of smell years ago. He could’ve lit up a joint from the plants he clipped and killed. But there it was. A burnt log of man, ashed like a cherry on melted linoleum. While having no memory of last night, she knew. The truth was something primal and without language. Jean didn’t need to remember how the weight of that red jerry-can felt in her hand. She could taste what she had done, acrid on her palate. It was a sharp memory, when she caught Ted creaking down her back stairs, fleeing his small act of re-

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Candid Quarantine written by Paloma Nicholas

My quarantine began with a single, brilliant (probably widely shared) idea: that this was my time. I would make a sourdough starter, pick up jewelry making, perhaps lose that “freshman fifteen” I gained so long ago. There was finally time to read more, write more, and listen to podcasts on 1.5 speed. I’d become an NPR goddess. Most importantly, I’d emerge from the quarantine ashes a fierce, healthy, well-rested phoenix. I kept this charade up for the first week or two. I’d wake up, eat some blueberries, then do an intense Zumba cardio workout on Youtube.Around lunchtime, I’d search for my “hobby of the day” (this was before spring quarter had begun, mind you). Sometimes it was looking through old family photos, other times it was matching pairs of socks in my sock drawer. Then, I’d eat dinner with my family. The first few dinners at home were nice. Mom had more time to cook and Dad could drive home from his job downtown in just seventeen minutes (the “silver lining” of corona). We had time to sit and enjoy each other, talk about our days, and play a much needed game of catch-up. Dad works for the LA Department of Public Health, and acts as a sort of informant for the rest of us. Most documented cases in Los Angeles were concentrated in the Brentwood area (screw you, well-traveled rich people). Brentwood, along with Tom Hanks, was the closest Covid-19 had come to my small, sheltered world. My little routine quickly became exhausting.I came to resent myYoutube Zumba instructor. She was just too enthusiastic about this whole “fitness” schtick. I fantasized about punching her in the face during the boxing portion of the routine. It’s the little pleasures, you know? I swapped out my healthy breakfast for a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, surfed through the National Geographic Channel, then reminded myself that I was garbage, and rewatched a TikTok compilation on Youtube (I am a freak). Home had become a place of respite since I’d moved out for college. I came back for vacations, birthdays, and the occasional free laundry trip. But

Paloma and her mother enjoying sangria and the outdoors 10


that was all different now. My desk – covered in old bar mitzvah photos and AP Biology flashcards from high school – became my classroom and finals workspace. It took me five days to write a six page paper, which normally would’ve taken me two days and seven Yerba Mate’s at YRL. Every time I leaned into writing more of my papers, I’d receive another devastating news notification. Coronavirus Leaves Italy’s Morgues Overflowing With Corpses as Death Toll Hits 2,158. The Agonizing Wait for My 4-Year-Old’s Coronavirus Test Results. There Aren’t Enough Ventilators to Cope With the Coronavirus. Suddenly, finals didn’t seem all that important. Why should I kill myself over this three page essay when the whole world feels like it’s stopped turning? But I continued stressing over every paper and project because I had opted to receive letter grades. Yes, you read that right. UCLA gave us the “choice” to decide whether or not we wanted to take classes Pass/No Pass or for a letter grade. But if you’re a UCLA student, it didn’t feel like much of a choice. Certain departments are not allowing students to take classes as Pass/ No Pass. So if you wish to remain in the Math major, you’re gonna have to accept your cruel fate. There are also many students that receive scholarships which could potentially be taken away if they fail to remain on the letter grade system. For the rest of us, the pressure to “keep up” with our peers is enough to scare us shitless and keep us on the letter grade system. I was a member of the “scared shitless” subgroup, thank you very much. Though I was promised a quarter of “understanding” and “flexibility” from my professors, I can assure you that I have not seen much flexibility on their end. During midterms, I had SIX essays due in ONE week. And I’m only taking three classes! How is it that even though I’m quarantined in my house all day, I still don’t have enough hours in the day to keep up with my schoolwork? Forget about my bread making wishes, my plans to start an Etsy shop, my exercise routine. I barely had time to make myself lunch.

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And to all the people that “swear I’m taking fall quarter off if it’s online”: good for you. Truly. If you can do that, more power to ya, sis. I was considering doing it myself at one point. But we (the royal You and I) need to realize how much of a privilege it is to consider a leave of absence as a realistic option. Our university is structured in such a way that many people on financial aid and/or scholarships are not allowed to take a leave of absence, or else they may lose their funding. And even if students wish to take cheaper courses at their local community colleges, many departments do not transfer upper division credits from other schools, forcing many of us to continue to pay our high tuition. To the TAs that let discussions out early and the professors that pre-record your lessons, I want you to know that I love you. I love you more than the pair of underwear I’ve kept since the sixth grade. And for every professor that assigns eight essays over the course of the quarter, there’s another professor that personally emails you just to check in. So no, I’m not coming out of this an NPR goddess. And no, I haven’t started my online jewelry shop. But I will try to pass my classes. And I’ll try to walk my dog once a day. I will even try not to eat bread with every meal. Because, at the end of the day, I’m not going to come out of this a better person – I’m just trying to keep up with my responsibilities.


Hidden: TV’s Fictional Reality written by Shannon Kasinger art by Shannon Boland We exist in a time when we collectively believe the ultimate crumbling of American society and the rebuilding into another is a far-off event, a future that we don’t need to consider yet. But the truth is that the most atrocious realities that we fear to happen are already here (like the unmitigated, brutal spread of COVID-19 today), slowly and strategically embedding themselves into regular facets of our world. The New Yorker describes a dystopia as “anti-utopian, a utopia turned upside down, a world in which people tried to build a republic of perfection only to find that they had created a republic of misery.” Although this “republic of misery” is well-known to those who control the media and political sectors of American capitalism, this fantasy of perfection is paraded to control the people and dupe them into thinking that nothing’s wrong. This is an act of intentional misinformation on the part of the media, who refuse to be honest about the extent to which the cruel realities of the state severely impact marginalized communities. This is a calculated move to preserve good relations with the American government, maintain the status quo of injustice, and combat resistance to the capitalism that drives every instance of inequality. The intent to misinform is a deliberate initiative to hide the dystopia that we are already living in. Systemic oppression and marginalization of people of color underpin every aspect of American life, but you wouldn’t know that if you turned on the top-watched television shows of today. The content manufactured by the biggest networks-such as ABC, NBC, and CBS- tells the public that racism is an interpersonal issue without widespread consequence instead of a system built to disenfranchise, povertize, and inflict cultural and actual genocide. Even just within the most-watched television shows in the United States during the 2018-2019 season, people of color were, and continue to be, drastically denied representation, let alone have prominent storylines. But representation is more than just a diversity quota (and it is surely not a fix to the calculated system of racism); it is a public demonstration of what and who are prioritized within American society.. The sanitization of systemic racism on a show-to-show basis may seem solely ignorant, but when viewed in the greater context of television, this is a carefully constructed effort to delude the public into underestimating the level of dystopic brutality that currently exists. “This is Us,” the seventh highest watched show in the US, employs a “safe progressivism” (as described by Vulture) 12

that consistently refuses to closely examine the structural underpinnings of the racism its Black characters experience. Some of the most important aspects of racism are neglected, like white privilege and the connections between racism, poverty, drug addiction.These themes would be especially relevant and compelling for this show to depict, as the main white family is raising a Black son, Randall, and Randall’s biological father’s absence was a product of drug addiction. While the show takes strides to recognize the cultural differences that differentiate Randall from his family and to show the steps the family takes to bridge that divide, there is no effort to connect these issues of daily racism to the bigger picture of injustice. While putting faces to issues is certainly helpful to personalize complex issues, without the contextualization of the matter within an interconnected network of oppressions, there is misinformation about the gravity and depth of racism. The second most popular show in America, “The Big Bang Theory,” makes racism the butt of its jokes by its lead character, Sheldon, making repeated offensive remarks and gestures. Amongst these are gifting a Black character a “Roots” DVD because “You’re black, right?” and joking about how guest-star and “Reading Rainbow” host, LeVar Burton, would feel about dressing up like a swastika. This kitschy manner of comedy deliberately used to make racism into a joke for laughs minimizes its true injury and desensitizes audiences to its true harm; these racist jests are are supposed to be registered so quickly that the audience doesn’t even have time to process the ludicrousness of the words. Representing racism as a passing thought, not important to identify for more than a quip socializes audiences into passive witnesses of racism who don’t consider its implications for more than a second. Part of the bigotry on television results from producers not willing to recognize their complicity in systems of oppression. And those who hold positions of power perpetuate this racism with a shrug of the shoulders. All entertainment productions exist within the capitalist, profit-driven structures of Hollywood, and white America buys into racism as a commodity and a way of life. Then Hollywood complies by ceaselessly coddling racist television as if it is only a laughing matter to make a buck off of. This calculated deception is also troubling when it concerns matters in which public misconception can have health and financial ramifications. The reality of American


healthcare is a ridiculously unequal system that regularly bankrupts, terrorizes for payment, and leaves for dead those who can’t pay. Far from a benevolent institution that seeks the care and safety of everyone, hospitals put profit before people and the most economically vulnerable are abandoned.Yet a culture of hospital television shows exists that portrays doctors and hospitals as undeniably selfless, willing to do pro bono work on every uninsured patient that walks through their doors. Despite doctors in this exploitative system not having the abilities to do this, erroneous portrayals of individual generosity are paraded as the pinnacle of morality within healthcare. In reality, American healthcare is disastrously expensive and the heavy burden is always on the patients (especially if they are uninsured.) When an episode of “House” was analyzed for the true cost of a patient’s treatment, they found that a liver biopsy, an MRI, a splenectomy, a stroke and ataxia, and drug abuse treatment would yield a medical bill of at least $298,200. This unmanageable cost of care isn’t advertised on these shows, because that would reveal the fundamental injustice of the system.

as insurance is an integral part of the burden of healthcare, and this show, as the 9th most watched in the country, has a huge platform to bring awareness to these institutional inequities. There is also an unrealistic nature to its attempt, as it portrays one doctor (the show’s namesake, Meredith Grey) as the singular person who will uncover the hidden hardships of the health insurance world. This disregards the numerous efforts made by activists and ordinary Americans to combat the greedy healthcare and insurance system, as if this is an issue that no one has been aware of until now. If there’s a potential unawareness of this, it is certainly perpetuated by medical shows refusing to show the true cruelties of American healthcare. A lack of easy-to-access, affordable healthcare is a distinct characteristic of a dystopian world, and America easily exemplifies that present reality. Medical costs are the #1 reason for personal bankruptcy in the United States; any place where saving someone’s life can ruin their finances is not remotely utopic. The concept itself of a system that charges its residents for the conservation of their lives is inherently immoral, and its daily problems only begin to identify the criminality in its existence.

The true ruthlessness of healthcare lies in the insidious system of health insurance, that leeches people dry in the name of coverage.While the concept of health insurance itself is distinctly inaccessible to those without money, its intentionally embedded hurdles make it an arduous obstruction in accessing care. This system and its barriers are frequently avoided topics on medical dramas. “Grey’s Anatomy,” which has been on the air for the past 15 years, only just recently addressed the effects of a lack of coverage in a fleshedout storyline, despite being a show that attempts to address other progressive issues. This is disappointing,

Capitalism and its systemic tendrils of oppression are dystopia, and every attempt to exclude this truth from entertainment and media further exposes the honesty deserved by the public. In a society that genuinely values justice, media and entertainment would serve as an exploration of the problems that continue to afflict its people, whether fictionally or through news. The very act of excluding the oppression integral to a society is a denial of its existence and a lie imparted on its people. Though capitalism will not be dismantled from the inside and simple awareness of these issues doesn’t necessarily prompt action, impartiality of truth and a complete uncovering of injustice is the first step to an awareness of how to upend capitalism and its associated oppressions.

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Design & Video *for the purposes of this format, the original gifs and videos have been altered

The American Dream by Hailey Lynaugh

Survival of the Selfish art by Shannon Boland concept inspired by Deirdre Mitchell references taken from National Archive Public Domain Footage

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Dystopia Teaser stop motion animation by Lilah Sniderman

**Due to UCLA’s Spring 2020 quarter being entirely remote, FEM had to adjust our anticipated Dystopia Issue from a print edition to a virtual issue. Instead of laying out a pdf, we decided to make a website under the domain dystopiaissue.com. Our artwork was intentionally created for an interractive digital platform by including gifs, instagram filters, stop motion animation, and short videos. This disassembled print version of the Dystopia Issue was created after.

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HOW DO YOU FEEL? interactive piece designed by Joy Chen

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Dystopia Issue Photoshoot

Confined by Lilah Sniderman

Masked by Lilah Sniderman

Masked 2 by Lilah Sniderman

UNTITLED by Lilah Sniderman 18


Sinking Shadows by Devika Shenoy Living Hidden by Devika Shenoy

Untitled by Charlie Stuip The Only Road to Take by Devika Shenoy 19


Dystopia Issue Playlist

*we hope this playlist finds you well in these strange and trying times

1. When I Rule the World by LIZ The song focuses on a kind of funny, ironic abuse of power. The song draws attention to the exploitation and power dynamics of power, but in a satirical, sexual way. It is a kind of funny “girl power” song that exaggerates and distorts fantasies of power in typical hyperpop fashion. I think it satirizes the “girl CEO”/”women in power” fantasy to a dystopian extent. 2. Tiptoe by Imagine Dragons The synth heavy music gives me a sense of dystopia and future. Although the lyrics don’t directly allude to the idea of chaos, the focus on the idea of not being recognised for your success but acknowledging your triumph yourself is an almost hopeful theme in the current situation in addition to a feeling most marginalised communities relate to. Moreover, the bridge focusing on the line “I won’t fall asleep” could be a mark of resilience which is often associated with dystopia. 3. Computer Luv by Ravyn Lenae ft. Steve Lacy In this song Ravyn talks about an internet relationship with a man that she’s had for a year now, and she wants to see him in person. She doesn’t know if the relationship is actually worth it, so she goes back and forth in making that decision. This evokes dystopia for me because we are in an age where we engage with people via the internet a lot, and that can be scary. The internet has made us more socially connected but at the same time, less emotionally connected, and thus contributing to the dystopia that we now live in. 4. Is It Cold In The Water? by SOPHIE This song captures the fear and pain that comes in times of uncertainty. Whether things will get better or crash and burn, no one can really know for sure. All we can do is take steps forward into that deep blue water v_v (and by that, I mean dismantle capitalism) 5. O Superman by Laurie Anderson O Superman is like those abyss dreams, where nothing happens but you are aware of a tactile nothingness around you. It is intimate and ominous and lonely. But it’s Laurie Anderson, whose inherent strangeness makes you laugh all the same. 6. Planet Health by Chairlift The food pyramid. The Heimlich maneuver. Just “say no to drugs.” Stop, drop and roll. This song by Chairlift captures the oversimplified and repetitive nature of sex ed and health that students are taught in public schools. It makes clear that the lack of real information is an absurd dystopia fueled by strange and harmful political and religious agendas. 20


7. F Q-C #8 by Willow I’m incredibly fond of Willow’s first album and lowkey think almost any song off of it could fit the dystopia theme. There’s a moody and nebulous energy to F Q-C #8 in particular that reminds me of being in a suspended reality. Because of our limited interactions with people in recent weeks, I think everyone can relate to the way this song in particular talks about the distortion of time.

8. Silence is Golden by The Tremeloes I’ve been thinking a lot about silence and loneliness in relation to quarantine and this song is really good for filling the silence with a song about silence.

9. Find an Island by BENEE I think the lyrics make me think about escaping the world around us right now and escaping the capitalistic corruption. But idk I might just be reading into it too deeply

10. XS by Rina Sawayama This song is all about consumption and materialism and how it can lead to one’s downfall. Narratives of dystopia in stories have stemmed from ideas of capitalistic society failing and how consumption kills etc etc.

11. Everybody Wants to Rule the World by Tears for Fears The haziness of this song kinda makes me thing of the complacency that many of us are rendered to when we think about potential massive world change--cause it’s really fucking hard to overhaul the world for the better. And also the title really evokes world change in and of itself.

12. Skyline To by Frank Ocean The song evokes images of both pleasure and hope (“this is joy”) and a fight for survival/violence (“keep alive, stay alive”). It is both mournful and hopeful, with the ending lyrics pointing to the beginning of another day.

13. Blue Wine by NAO The song describes the lyricist’s deeper understanding of herself and her place in the world. The lyrics are beautiful, hopeful, and healing.

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The U.S. Education System has Never Been a Great Equalizer written by Maya Petrick art by Malaya Johnson

The American education system is pretty fucked up — and it always has been. The United States’ history has shaped the country’s education system into one that perpetuates white supremacy, classism, ableism (discrimination in favor of able-bodied people and people without mental illnesses), and toxic productivity (a culture that favors constant productivity over mental health and well-being). UCLA actively participates in this system. However, there are steps that can be taken to combat this harmful system on both personal and structural levels. The school system in the U.S. has always been shaped by those in power — that is, rich, white, cis men — and these are the people who are most priveleged in this system. Many consider Thomas Jefferson the founding father of democratic education in the United States, and during his time, the American public and elites considered his ideas for education radical. However, many components of his vision for public education served to reinforce pre-existing power structures rather than serve as a great equalizer. He designed a “universal” public school system immediately after the American Revolution with a goal to “[promote] civic ideology to perpetuate the social order,” and to instill early on a thoughtless sense of patriotism. He proposed a two-track system: one for students going into leadership positions, and one for “those destined for labor.” About 20 students every year were, in his words, “raked from the rubbish,” to enter the leadership track, which was otherwise composed of the sons of Virginia’s aristocracy. Although a lucky few white men benefited from this system, white women were only allowed to attend through primary school in order “to raise the virtuous male citizens on whom the health of the Republic depended.” Jefferson fails to mention Black children (or any children of color) at all. Clearly, this is not a system meant to promote equitable education and opportunities. Jefferson formed his plan for American education in a vastly different time period, but the inequality in his policies laid the groundwork for systematic discrimination against poor people, disabled people, and people of color today. American education has a long-standing relationship with the criminal justice system, providing a disproportionate amount of students of color, low-income students, and

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disa b l e d students with a criminal record before they even reach adulthood. Students who aren’t incarcerated and have the option to go to college are subject to tremendous expectations to achieve high grades, do well on standardized tests, and participate in extracurriculars to get into their college of choice. This promotes a toxic lack of work-life balance and alienates students who may have conditions preventing them from concentrating for long periods of time and otherwise adhering to the rigid format of grade school. Furthermore, college admissions requirements are not nearly as merit-based as they claim to be. They are instead biased toward financially privileged students, even though income is entirely out of students’ control. Those who are able to afford attending a private school or living in an area with well-funded public schools are given an edge in the admissions process (in many states, school funding is largely determined by property taxes, meaning wealthier areas have better schools). Also, standardized test scores are highly correlated with students’ income, putting low-income students at an even greater disadvantage in this process. Once students are admitted to college, these high expectations remain, along with the necessity to pay increasingly expensive tuition.


UCLA contributes to this inequality.

stantly racing to write papers, complete projects, and cram for their next set of exams, promoting a culture that prioritizes working to meet unrealistic deadlines rather than gaining a deeper understanding of course material. Furthermore, UCLA’s “#1 public school” narrative is constantly shoved down students’ throats in the form of emails, banners, and news articles, fostering a seemingly school-sponsored culture of heightened academic pressure and sense of imposter syndrome (which is worse for students of color who often face microaggressions and blatant discrimination). The rapid turnaround time and short breaks of the quarter system coupled with high academic expectations can also lead to student burnout. Even mundane experiences for UCLA students such as braving Bruin Walk, attending class in big lecture halls, walking uphill going both to and from class (which is incredibly inaccessible for many disabled students), and living in the crowded dorms can increase stress levels.

As all UCLA students know, attending this school is expensive. While some students, fortunately, receive grants and scholarships, on average, UCLA students leave college with about $22,390 in student debt. This amount of debt can haunt students for decades after they enter the workforce, placing them at a financial disadvantage to their wealthier peers. On top of that, low-income students and students of color at UCLA graduate with a disproportionate amount of debt. In addition, many students are forced to work during their time in college, which can make time management more difficult and take away students’ ability to participate in extracurriculars. This places these students at a further disadvantage when entering the workforce, because they have fewer activities with which to pad their resumes. By pushing low-income students into substantial debt and taking away their ability to participate in activities that help their career prospects, UCLA exacerbates wealth disparities in the U.S. and reinforces the country’s inequitable systems of power.

UCLA students experience debt, discrimination, and stress, and many face mental health issues as a result. Though statistics on UCLA students’ overall mental health are unavailable, a 2018 study claims that “three out of five students experienced overwhelming anxiety, and two out of five students were too depressed to function” at some point during 2018. UCLA’s Counseling and Psychological Services (CAPS) is not equipped to handle the student body’s demand. Students who are not considered “at risk” may face waiting times of over a month to get an appointment. To address the added pressure of being a UCLA student from a marginalized group, CAPS has started offering therapy groups for specific communities such as Black and Bruin, Gender Identity Spectrum Group, and Undocuscholars.While this is a step in the right direction, these groups only meet once per quarter, and students are screened be-

Alongside the financial burden of attending UCLA, most students face day-to-day stressors. Operating on a quarter system means that students are con-

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fore becoming a member of the group. It is easy to blame CAPS for these shortcomings, but in reality, these issues can only be solved if UCLA higher-ups provide CAPS with more resources to accommodate students’ needs. It is impossible to discuss the U.S.’s education system without also discussing the ways in which the current COVID-19 crisis exacerbates every one of these issues. The American education system is not equipped to handle crises. This is an institution that encourages rigid individualism and constant productivity — it is nearing collapse now that students are forced to prioritize their own health in order to protect their community as a whole. This is reflected in UCLA’s refusal to adopt a default pass/ no pass grading policy, despite USAC urging the administration to do so. Although UCLA adopted slightly more lenient grading policies during the pandemic, many classes are still forcing students to take classes for a letter grade to count toward their major. The expectation to maintain already overly demanding academic practices during a global pandemic is unfair and unnecessary. All students are adjusting to new routines and coping with the implications of COVID-19. In addition, this grading policy puts extra strain on low-income students who may be working throughout this time or those who have lost their jobs and are struggling to make ends meet. In many ways, the lucky few who are able to make it through America’s education system unscathed by prejudice, debt, and mental health issues resemble Jefferson’s leadership track: either exceptional and lucky, or already a member of the American elite. America’s education system not only promotes inequality but also relies on it. UCLA and the nation as a whole must (and can) do better. For education to truly serve as an equalizer, the U.S. must offer free public college for everyone, regardless of income or perceived merit. In the meantime, UCLA should reduce tuition prices, because many stu24

dents and their families are out of work due to the pandemic. Schools should implement more mental health resources at all levels, including services specific to students from marginalized groups. Furthermore, college campuses should implement better support systems for students of color, disabled students, first-generation students, and LGBT students. Schools should adhere to more lenient attendance policies and improve online resources for students who can’t come to class in person. Until these changes are implemented, whenever possible, students should try to take a break from their schoolwork and do something kind for themselves — even if it is just for thirty minutes. Although large-scale change is necessary, this individual action as well as community self-care is necessary in conjunction with systemic change.


Digital Blackface written by Ifueko Osarogiagbon art by Emma Lehman For a movie made an entire decade ago, “Bring It On” really was ahead of its time. The 2000s cheerleading film starring Kristen Dunst and Gabrielle Union brought the issue of cultural appropriation to the big screen by telling the story of how a white upper-class cheerleading squad made their name by stealing the dance routines of a rivaling team of entirely Black inner-city students. But between the amount of white female influencers using deep tans, dark makeup, body surgery, and textured wigs to pose as racially-ambiguous women on Instagram (blackfishing as coined by Black culture writer Wanna Thompson and Twitter user known as Deja) and the number of non-Black teens on stan Twitter speaking in butchered African-American Vernacular English (AAVE), non-Black people have moved to an even deeper level of theft than the teen comedy could ever imagine.

It doesn’t help that social media platforms like Twitter and Instagram operate with a level of anonymity that allows people to build an entire identity others have no choice but to presume is true as long as your performance is consistent enough. This is part of why Emma Hallberg’s performance fell apart so fast. The Swedish influencer was one of the many white women caught cosplaying as Black by Thompson and Deja’s Twitter threads. People were able to dig through her Instagram history to find photos exposing what she actually looked like, not to mention Hallberg herself had made videos on YouTube showcasing step by step how she’d use makeup to drastically alter her appearance. They say that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. But when you look at the way these modern forms of Blackface all come at the expense of actual Black people, imitation proves to be much more sinister than what the quippy proverb could ever capture.

It’s hard to see how blackface has advanced digitally without understanding how it was first derived. The form of blackface most people are familiar with dates back to the 1820s, when white people would put literal brown and black paint makeup on their faces in order to perform crudely exaggerated performances of Black people in minstrel shows, a popular form of white entertainment made up of comedy skits, dancing, and music. These performances cut deep into American culture as they not only paved the way for many of the racist stereotypes Black people currently struggle with today, but also shaped post-Reconstruction legislation. The Jim Crow laws of the deep South were named after one of the earliest blackface characters created, Jim Crow.

Just by putting on these digital performances of Blackness, non-Black people are able to leverage their fabricated likness in order to gain access to spaces actual Black people–Black women in particular–are blocked from ever entering. Danielle Bregoli’s— otherwise known as Bhad Bhabie—claim to fame was threatening her mother with a blaccent in an episode of “Dr. Phil.” Her belligerent attitude and botched attempt at AAVE created the viral “Cash Me Ousside” moment that quickly reached meme status on Twitter. Her newfound fame later earned her a million dollar music deal with Kevin Abstract and Ty Dolla $ign’s record company, her own reality tv series “Bringing Up Bhabie’’ on Snapchat, and a $900,000 beauty deal. Now Bregoli has decided to dip her toes a bit deeper in her performance through the Kardashian cheat code of body spray, lip fillers, and textured hair. And before being exposed, Emma Hallberg had already been featured as a beauty figure in publications like “Teen Vogue” on top of being an Instagram influencer with a sizable following. She now models for PrettyLittleThing.

The internet and social media subsequently have created a digital dystopia where it is now easier than ever before for non-Black people to be Black without the baggage of anti-Blackness. Meanwhile, actual Black people are left to be the bellhops of our own culture. Apps like Twitter where interactions are generally all done through text gives non-Black people unfettered access to actual Black people’s different dialects and speaking patterns as written out in AAVE. The Internet and social media’s interconnectivity has made it to where non-Black people now have an all-access pass to phrases and terms you’d normally have to be physically be a part of Black queer communities and the Black community in general to even know about. Meanwhile, our styles and aesthetics are laid out for everyone to see through photo-based apps like Instagram.

Meanwhile Black girls and women are disproportionately disciplined within education and the workforce for having a hint of an attitude as well as barred out of these same spaces for simply existing as ourselves. Actual Black influencers struggle to be reposted by beauty and fashion brands’ Instagram pages and be paid equally to their non-Black peers.

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Despite their clear connection to the racist performance, many people still deny that these performances have anything to do with Blackness and Black people. When Wanna and Deja’s blackfishing threads made their way through Twitter, many people came to the defense of all the white women being exposed for their appropriative behaviour. Some tried arguing that the girls weren’t actually trying to look Black but were really just to achieve the same look as the Kardashians or that the women were simply just trying to achieve the “Instagram baddie” look. This excuse helps pinpoint the problem with the appropriation of Black women’s aesthetics and attributes.The styles they’ve adopted from Black women become divorced from their true creators leaving the Kardashians and other nonBlack women with all the credit while they continue to coopt Black women’s creativity. Regardless of who non-Black women believe they’re adopting their aesthetics from, Black women created those aesthetics. No matter what they are still trying to look like lite editions of Black women.

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Kim Kardashian and her crew paved the way for this particular kind of appropriation. Not to say that they were the first ones to. But the Kardashian–Jenner klan were the ones to really create the blueprint for blackfishing, going on to build their entire entertainment by being Black adjacent in dress and drama. And when it comes to blaccents, many times nonBlack people (of color in particular) like to claim that growing up and being around Black people justifies their misuse of AAVE. Some even go as far as to say it’s the same as how actual Black people code-switch. But if this kind of cultural osmosis really were a thing, then Black people would also be able to speak the many languages non-Black people speak in their own communities. NonBlack people aren’t penalized for using standardized English in any way that would require them to speak AAVE. Black people, however, code-switch from AAVE to standard English inorder to escape racist stereotypes attributed to the language. Most notably though, non-Black people don’t even have a proper mastery of AAVE to even claim it as a language that they can code-switch from.


When it comes to curbing this kind of cultural theft, Black people are caught in a double bind. In a society that trivializes and ignores how we’ve been harmed, oftentimes the only way to offset offences made against us is by teaming up on social media and bringing as much media attention to an issue as possible. From getting schools to reprimand racist students and staff members to pressuring businesses to own up to racist behaviour, many times this method of holding others accountable have worked quite well for the Black community. Unfortunately, getting outed for engaging in anti-Black behaviour can be a springboard for non-Black people’s success. Budding figures like Bregoli and Hallberg need any bit of attention they can get no matter how bad in order to gain access to greater status. Infamy is far better than being invisible. So by putting the pair on blast, the Black community not only built them an audience, but also brought them opportunities that they otherwise wouldn’t have been able to access on their own. On the flipside, leaving them be would mean letting them continue their con game.

When outing these anti-Black offenders on the Internet is its own kind of gamble, bringing mass attention to the actual creators and innovators of Black culture and making sure that they’re credited is a great way to fight back against digital Blackface. This worked great for bringing credit back to Jaleigh Harmon, the creator of the popular ‘Renegade’ dance. The creator of the phrase “on fleek” Kayla Newman, also known as Peaches Monroe, was finally able to get some compensation for her cultural contribution the same way. Rihanna’s beauty brand Fenty Beauty had Newman recreate her famous Vine video as an ad for the launch of their Brow MVP brow pencils. Before this collaboration, Newman had struggled to get proper credit for her words despite countless brands and businesses using them for their marketing. If there’s one thing digital Blackface does for Black people, it is to affirm the fact that Blackness is beautiful and that Black Americans do in fact have their own unique culture, one that’s coveted by so many others outside of it. But as long as Black people are disrespected while our culture is revered, this affirmation is nothing but an empty gesture.

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Love Shouldn’t Hurt written by Samantha Marmet art by Malaya Johnson

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vides the perfect conditions for intimate violence in the household to flourish; in April 2020, the United Nations warned of the horrifying surge in domestic violence globally, calling on governments to make protecting women a key part of their response to the pandemic. Rising social and economic pressures due to coronavirus lockdowns have caused more frequent, severe, and dangerous intimate terrorism, resulting in the number of women calling in for support services to double, while healthcare providers and police are understaffed and overwhelmed.

“When we understand love as the will to nurture our own and another’s spiritual growth, it becomes clear that we cannot claim to love if we are hurtful and abusive. Love and abuse cannot coexist.” - Bell Hooks, All About Love: New Visions A man saves his own life in exchange for one of his beautiful daughters. She is captured and forced to live in a lavish chamber, barred from seeing anyone, except for the Beast. She is afraid of him. Every night he asks her to marry him, and she refuses; he keeps her locked up in his castle, allowing her to visit with her family for a night, but only if she returns. If not, he threatens to die of grief. She comes back late, and as he lays dying, she begs him to marry her; she is rewarded with wealth for choosing a virtuous husband, one that provides for her and loves her so much he would die without her. “La Belle et le Bête,” or Beauty and the Beast, is one of the most popular fairy tales about true love.

Patriarchal domination has made love a battleground: it upholds hatred and contempt as responses to the notion that women have an equal right to outspokenness and their own bodies. Domestic violence and mass shootings are two sides of the same patriarchal coin. There is more than just the shared access to powerful firearms that connects the men who commit mass shootings — the history of hating women, misogynistic online presence, and assaulting girlfriends, wives, and female family members is being left out of the national conversation. There is an online subculture where men who call themselves “incels,” or involuntary celibates, gather to express their rage and contempt for women who, in their eyes, deny them their rightful access to sex. Mass murderer Elliot Rodger, who killed six people a day after posting his manifesto “Elliot Rodger’s Retribution” on YouTube, explicitly detailed his desire to punish women for depriving him of sex. He has been cited as an inspiration for other mass shooters who express sympathy towards him and have their own stories of romantic and sexual rejection.

People rely on narratives to make sense of their lives. For many children, it begins with the consumption of fairy tales about damsels in distress, often controlled and manipulated by men in the name of true love. Today, Internet culture glorifies toxic romance and the allure of cold and withholding men who lie to get what they want, and offer nothing in return. I see the effects of this in my own life, such as beginning a relationship with a boy who prided himself in his narcissism and stoicism. I believed it was an expression of love to endure cruelty, and rather than putting myself out of harm’s way, I embraced it. For nearly two years, I felt shut up tight inside myself, wanting so badly to unravel, if only he would let me. I used to believe that someone could hurt you - not through negligence, but with the goal of really hurting you - and still love you. If love didn’t hurt, did it even mean anything?

Under capitalism, and when powered by systems of domination, love becomes a feeling instead of an action with intent. bell hooks believes the sacred, redemptive, and healing qualities of love can challenge systems of domination and save entire communities from violence. Love cannot exist in the middle of a power struggle, and without hope, we cannot return to love.

Patriarchal domination shapes all individual and collective aspects of life. All domination is accompanied by violence, whether physical or psychological. According to the National Domestic Violence Hotline, husbands and boyfriends are responsible for the murders of more than three women every day, and more than ten million Americans are subjected to psychological and physical abuse by intimate partners every year. Most recent domestic violence statistics show that quarantine pro-

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Believing in Utopia written by Angela Patel art by Grace Ciacciarelli

Utopia is more necessary than ever as we face the current global pandemic and the crises that come with it. We need utopia, not because we will ever reach a perfect world, but because we need to imagine a better society. Utopia should be defined as not just an ideal society without pain and suffering, but a society that constantly strives to be more livable, just and pleasurable on an individual and structural level. Utopia and dystopia are two sides of the same coin. Ursula K. LeGuin, a prominent author of speculative and science fiction, argues in her book “No Time to Spare” that “every utopia contains a dystopia [and] every dystopia contains a utopia.” LeGuin suggests that one person’s utopia is always someone else’s dystopia, and vice versa. As a result, it can be hard to pinpoint an exact definition for utopia or even to distinguish between a perfect world and a corrupt one. For centuries, dystopia and utopia have been common themes in literature and art. Most speculative and science fiction novels are about dystopias that arise out of failed utopias: well-known examples include “1984,” “The Hunger Games,” and “Brave New World.” These novels imagine future societies that are corrupt, controlling and ultimately doomed to fail. Literature often portrays dystopia as anywhere but here and now — whether that is in the past, the future, or within a different society or world. However, our present is a dystopia in numerous ways. The lack of action taken to combat climate change by the government and big businesses is destroying our planet. White supremacy infiltrates politics and media, leading to the dissemination of racist rhetoric surrounding violence and poverty to the general population. Capitalism demands workers to sacrifice their mental and physical wellbeing for a paycheck. The gap between those with extreme wealth and those experiencing extreme poverty is widening. These conditions create a dystopia for the people and communities they target, exploit and erase. This is especially true for marginalized and underserved individuals and groups who don’t have the privilege to simply ignore the dystopias contained within our present society. To imagine utopia while one suffers from and struggles against dystopia is a radical act of hope. Utopia has been conceived of in countless ways, spanning the otherworldly and fictional to the concrete and present. In the 20th century, many science fiction writers chose to write

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about ‘utopic’ single-sex worlds that lacked a male sex.The very notion of the ‘single-sex’ world is heavily dependent upon the sex and gender binaries, which inaccurately and harmfully designate male and female as the only two possible sexes. These speculative stories were typically meant to show how much more peaceful society could be without hegemonic masculinity leading to gender inequality, war and sexual violence.These stories also tended to portray societies in which lesbianism was the norm, reproduction occurred using cloning or parthenogenesis (a form of asexual reproduction) and violence was rare or nonexistent. Examples of single-sex worlds are found in Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s “Herland,” “The Female Man” by Joanna Russ, and “A Door into Ocean” by Joan Slonczewski. While such works of speculative and science fiction were considered groundbreaking when first published, they are associated with a wave of radical feminist separatism that has not been inclusive. Broadly, separatism advocates for the separation of one group from a larger or more dominant one. Feminist separatism refers to the ideology that women should separate themselves from men in order to resist patriarchy. In separatist ‘single-gender’ societies, women who are not cisgender or white are not seen or prioritized. The Michigan Womyn’s Music Festival, which was held from 1976 to 2015, is an example of a separatist event which was designed to be a women-only feminist music festival. However, it notably refused to admit transgender women by admitting only what were referred to as cisgender, “womyn-born-womyn”. Several other feminist separatist communities, the majority of which were created by white cis women, intended to create a ‘utopian’ environment free from the patriarchy. However, these were often similarly exclusive and tended to ignore the fact that women can and do participate in all forms of oppression, including patriarchal oppression. Feminist separatism assumes that gender is the only or primary social divide, ignoring the experiences of women who face intersecting forms of oppression that are tied to race, gender identity, class or ability in addition to gender. In the fifth chapter of “Feminist Theory: From Margin to Center,” bell hooks points out that “Bourgeois white women, especially radical feminists, were envious of and angry at privileged white men for denying them an equal share in

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class privilege… They were not eager to call attention to the fact that men do not share a common social status, that patriarchy does not negate the existence of class and race privilege or exploitation, that all men do not benefit equally from sexism.” Separatism erases the important role that men play in marginalized communities, especially Black communities, where family and social ties are foundational and life-saving. In the same essay, hooks argues that an ideology which views separatism as its ultimate goal “eliminates any need for revolutionary struggle, and is in no way a threat to the status quo.” Because of these shortcomings, the practice of white radical feminist separatism has not escaped dystopian structures of oppression. So while there is value in utopian thinking, we must use it to disrupt the dystopian structures of our current society that produce inequalities, hierarchies and false binaries. Thinking about dystopia (and utopia) through an intersectional lens is crucial in understanding how oppressive and unlivable environments affect individuals according to social categorizations and larger systems of oppression. Utopian imaginations outside of science fiction have often been criticized as lazy or pointless ways of critiquing society without actually doing anything to create actual change. However, utopian thinking and activism do not have to be separate. “The Feminist Utopia Project,” edited by Alexandra Brodsky and Rachel Kauder, as well as “Octavia’s Brood,” edited by adrienne maree brown and Walidah Imarisha, are collections that conceive of utopia in ways that are grounded and inclusive. Both works are anthologies, consisting of shorter pieces in which writers and activists imagine solutions to issues of a dystopian nature including transphobia, racial microaggression, profiling and the lack of access to abortions. The vast majority of these vignettes imagine utopia as concrete and built to tackle everyday injustices. In the introduction to their anthology, Brodsky and Nalebuff write: We found that reimagining society piece by piece was the only way we could grapple with the seismic shift necessary to usher in a full-bodied utopia… What would marriage look like? What about a constitution that was truly trans-inclusive? What would be different about birth control? About sports? Road trips? In a feminist utopia, how would we talk about sex? How would we have sex? What would labor industry standards designed for women be? What would feminist mental health care look life? What would a day in the life of a woman with a disability look like in a feminist utopia? What would be different for teen moms? For parents of color? For a teenage rock band? For queer love?

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It is by considering ‘mundane’ yet crucial aspects of the lives of individuals and marginalized people that we can formulate utopia. Feminism must not tolerate a status quo or wait idly for revolution. “Octavia’s Brood,” inspired by notable Black science fiction writer Octavia Butler, roots itself in social justice, community and optimism. It commemorates Butler’s important work and extends her speculative fiction style to reimagine today’s most pressing issues. “All organizing is science fiction,” Imarisha writes in the introduction. “We are dreaming new worlds every time we think about the changes we want to make in the world.” As Imarisha suggests, utopia inspires activism which in turn has the ability to create a better society. Writing, and all other art forms, are key tools in fighting dystopia and imagining utopia. Community is also part of resisting dystopia. There is a difference between radical feminist separatism and the forming of communities or advocacy groups based around important identity factors. The work that movement builders and activists do is almost always driven by their own identities, and the same goes for writers. Queer futurity, an idea coined by José Esteban Muñoz, is an attempt to reimagine a future for queer individuals instead of simply focusing on assimilating to the present heteronormative and cisnormative society. Black writers and thinkers who embrace or utilize Afrofuturism as a way to reclaim one’s identity are continually reimagining utopia in the intersections of Black art and technology. The disability justice movement also relies heavily on community and art as activism in order to envision a better world for sick and disabled queer, trans, Black and brown individuals. These inclusive visions of utopia are tied together by hope, unity and resistance to oppression. These forces, not separation, drive powerful and impactful visions of the future for those living in dystopia. Utopian thinking is fundamental to community building and activism. Nevertheless, there will always be doubts about the power of utopia. Is one person’s utopia always someone else’s dystopia? Will someone always suffer in someone else’s ideal world? We don’t have to agree on what constitutes a utopia. Just as LeGuin argues that every dystopia contains a utopia and vice versa, she argues that every utopia “has been both a good place and a bad one.” These questions don’t have concrete answers, but they can get us thinking about how to create an inclusive and functional society.


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