Fools Vol. 1

fools vol. 1, december 2016

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A THANK YOU TO OUR SPONSORS. Fools Magazine’s first issue was generously funded by two deparments who saw potential in the Fools team and efforts. We would like to formally achnowledge the Frank N. Magid Center for Undergraduate Writing and the Journalism School for their contributions to Fools Magazine.

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FOO

FO F O O L S M A G A Z I N E is dedicated to making art heard in Iowa City. It is about telling stories & making for the enchantment of making.

You reading this note lets us know we have succeeded in our dream. We started this mag out of thin air & have grown to love it like a child. We owe everything to you, dear reader.

T H A N K Y O U .

O LS

LS the ideas and opinions expressed in this magazine are not representative of the University of Iowa.

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FRANK BI THE WAY FRIDAYS REACH FRIDA BURGERS DESIGN THEATER FEMININITY DENIM ELEMENTS YEARS DENTISTRY BARBIE

There is an addicting energy at the University of Iowa that cannot be replicated by other cities. Iowa is no doubt a hotbed of midwestern creativity. Students here make art for the sake of art.

The idea of Fools was born when I grew tired of seeing a lack of creative, supportive, and passionate art outlets. I would hear artists of all mediums exclaiming they were trapped in boxes in classrooms or at work, and had endless ideas but nowhere to put them. I realized they were sharing their work with few others, or not at all.

I cannot possibly think of myself as an Editor-in-Chief. I am a complete and utter fool. I say this in the most loving way possible about this staff, but so are they. We are a rambunctious clan of college kids who happen to love talking about art and social issues - and we love turning to our own mediums to express them. Everyone has a foolish part of them, and this magazine is that side being brought to your hands.

We’ve been waiting for this magazine, and we decided to screw waiting. We made it happen.

Enjoy Fools Magazine Issue 1.

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FRANK OCEAN & THE LEFT TURN

by avery mossman

IT HAS BEEN A ROUGH FEW YEARS TO BE A FRANK OCEAN FAN. After almost four years since world-stopping channel ORANGE, a seemingly endless rollout, the rollout of Endless (themystifying and already-underrated visual album that preceded his official third full -length) and myriad date and name changes, we expected Frank Ocean to finally give us what we wanted --another album’s worth of immaculate, idiosyncratic, gorgeously sung progressive R&B songsadorned with dove-coo falsetto and twisting but immediate pop sensibilities. Frank gave us a deeply personal, atmospheric album that floats by like half-remembered snatches of the nightbefore and abandons drums completely for nearly two-thirds of the tracks.

As it turns out, the album we got may show his talent as much as the fact that one of his biggest breakout singles was a throwaway demo track of strung together non-sequiturs into “Thinkin’ Bout You”, one of the most tender, angelic love songs to grace R&B in a decade.Because it takes no courage to make a stark, personal left turn with your art when one has nothing to lose.

In the time since his last album, Frank has worked with what seemed like half of pop music’s greats. He collaborated with huge stars, from Beyonce to Kanye to John Mayer, and even almost veered into soundtrack music with a song (the stunning “Wiseman”) that was rejected for “Django Unchained” because Quentin Tarantino thought there wasn’t a scene that was good enough for it. And then he vanished. But the combination of industry honed chops as a hired songwriter, singular vision and an unimpeachable aura of cool had put him in a place that most pop stars could only dream of. However, I would guess that Frank Ocean had dreams beyond commercial pop stardom. My evidence? Blonde, his “official” sophomore album.

illustration by kenyon ellsworth

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Blonde is a sprawling, messy collection of half-songs and double songs. It has few moments of bottled-dopamine, instant gratification pop like “Lost” or “Thinkin’ Bout You” from channel ORANGE. It doesn’t even have a tightly wound, narcotic lead single like “Novocane”, from his debut, Nostalgia, Ultra. In fact, it has less to do with almost any post-zeitgeist smash album by a major pop/R&B star of in the last couple decades and more to do with his ancestral ties in the genre. Prince had the gall to follow up the clinically edited, electrifying and wildly successful Purple Rain with a winding, psychedelic album called Around the World in a Day, that was released with minimal promo and no singles until after its release. Stevie Wonder did much the same thing, following his pop success with singles like “Superstition” with Songs in the Key of Life, an ambitious, sprawling and multifaceted album that explored the extremest reaches of his lyrical and compositional ability over the course of a double album-and-an-EPs worth of songs. Frank Ocean stands beside his forefathers who made perfect pop songs and then got bored, and decided to make more perfect pop songs than ever before, the ones that felt like nirvana because they were perfect in ways that we never knew we wanted. Several decades later, it’s hard to believe that some of those songs didn’t immediately grab people. but immediacy is not the best measure of quality. Today, those albums are looked back on as classics that produced hits like “I Wish” or “Pop Life” that still jam to this day.

A DEEPLY PERSONAL,

ATMOSPHERIC

ALBUM THAT

FLOATS BY

LIKE HALF REMEMBERED SNATCHES OF

THE NIGHT

BEFORE.

Blonde has moments that you never knew you needed until you got them. For example, the soulful, Stevie-Wonder-esque “Solo”, is an early standout track, a drumless reverie stripped to organ chords and a sad story about love, loss and drugs. The reprise of “Solo”, which features a frantic, fiery Andre 3000 verse that snarls at the ghostwriting culture of modern music (“I was under the impression that everyone wrote their own verses/ that’s coming back different, and yeah, that shit hurts me”) The hazy, rippling float of “Nikes”, where the pitched-up vocals (another possible homage to Prince, who used the same technique during Sign O’ The Times-era) hide the musings on death as he reflects on the loss of Pimp C, A$AP Yams and Trayvon Martin by noting ambiguously that they look just like him,another black man in an America where drugs and guns have systematically trapped even themost elevated in a cage of perceptions.

Much of the album is devoted to gut-wrenching insight into the psyche of Ocean like never before, upon a closer listen. The near-interlude “Good Guy” reflects with a sort of detached sadness on the moment he had on a date where he realized that, to the guy across the table, he was just “another night out”. The multi-part song “Nights” flashes through vignettes,good and bad, of Ocean’s past, from his escape from his ravaged home town of New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina to the fact that his family used to drive an Acura Legend with a six-disc CD player.“Self Control” has one of the most vulnerably miserable refrains I have ever heard -- “Keep a place for me, I’ll sleep between y’all, it’s nothing”. The songs fades out to a sudden change of mood from the resigned and cripplingly-in-love to a desperate plea of echoed harmonies, as a chorus of Ocean entreat that “I know you gotta leave. Take down some summertime. Give up just tonight.” After turning away from easy-money pop stardom to fight his demons on record, we owe it to him to at least give up a night and listen.

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in the in the details in the dein the details

STREET

FLAMBE by bree jones

photos by natalia flores

in the details in the in the in the details in the dein the details

The recipe for disaster includes; Two cups of sexual frustration One half glass of honeyed whiskey A dash of curiosity blended well until Apprehension turns into brazenness And lexicon slurs Wrapping itself soundly beneath Bed sheets and various anti-histamines Make sure to test-taste To savor the flavor Allow your tongue to linger Lavishly lapping until You can no longer distinguish between desire And drunken desperation Stir until boiling Until scalding Then add 4 teaspoons of discomfort Pour the mangled concoction into confusion Let sit Until the ingredients disperse So that your coagulation becomes Nothing more than charred morsels Your vision becomes deglazed Thus catalyzing the caramelization As volatile chemicals release Your demons Watch his desire dwindle until Completely dissolved Begin julienning your blanched emotions Until they resemble nothing of the person you used to be Let marinate, preferably for a week-And garnish with regret.

in the details in the

in the in the details in the dein the details in the details in the

STYLE.

in the in the details in the dein the details in the details in the

it’s all in the details.

illustration by annalise castro

Bon a petit

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BI THE WAY. A NOTE ON SEXUALITY, by jason grobstich

WHAT DO BISEXUALS, THE FACEBOOK POKE OPTION, AND GREASE 2 ALL HAVE IN COMMON?

The answer: most people refuse to acknowledge that they exist. Yes, I am into catchy pop music, I’m a theater major, and I always get excited when a Hemsworth brother is starring in a new film. In many ways, I fit the bill as the “stereotypical gay kid.” You know, the ones you see in those shitty movies about high school where the gay character is always the one that is never really developed as a person and says sassy things while his straight friends deal poorly with their relationships. But alas, I am not gay (shocked gasps from everyone from my high school and my Twitter followers) but rather something people are just beginning to take seriously. Almost.

Bisexuality. The B in LGBT. That’s right, there really is a B in there. A sexuality that many still assume is mythological, created for gay men to find a middle ground before fully coming out as gay. One person I told literally thought bisexuality meant you only have sex twice a year, and I was like, “That is so rude!” and also like, “I mean who cares if it’s only twice a year, I do my best.” There are so many negative connotations that come with this label and I hope my story can help others feel more comfortable in their sexuality.

For the first few months of me being out, people asked me a variety of questions. One I got a lot was, “So what percent are you attracted to girls and boys?” and I was a little offended.

Most of that offense was because math sparks anxiety attacks and I’ve never been good at solving equations.

I really don’t like to think of sexuality as an algorithm, and I certainly don’t like remembering when I got a D minus on my pre-calculus final. So please stop asking this one. Another thing people would ask me after I told them was, “Well which gender do you think you’ll end up marrying?” I honestly have no idea. If I don’t find a way to express emotion without adding a hint of sarcasm, I probably won’t be marrying anyone at all.

People are afraid of things that don’t align with just one side of something; you see it all the time. We are split by Republican or Democrat, straight or gay, a fan of Beyoncé or wrong. I feel like it’s so important to understand that sexuality can be fluid and love is so hard to define. I don’t know why my sexuality is so difficult to tie down, but I don’t want to know why. It is what it is.

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screenprint by lindsey smith

The first time I knew I was different was in middle school when I started seeing men and women as beautiful. This period of time also aligned with my peers suddenly coming up with sick burns like “faggot,” or “queer,” or even “that dumbass

YOURE THE LEAST G A Y E S T GAY GUY I KNOW.

- a review some drunk guy gave me at an LGBT bar

who wears shorts in winter.” The last one didn’t correlate with my sexuality but rather my genuine misunderstanding of how negative temperatures can cause frostbite. But beyond my strong and seemingly unharmed outer shell, I hated what they were saying. I was worried this is how everyone treated people who were queer, so I decided to deny that part of me anytime I was asked about it. SPOILER ALERT: This tactic was super ineffective, as it was clear I was kinda gay. It was like having crumbs on your face when someone asks you if you ate the last cookie. Like, of course I did and you fucking know it, please stop asking.

I had a girlfriend in middle school, but that did nothing to halt the rumors. Probably because all we did was hug at the end of the school day and see The Haunting in Connecticut as our one date. That relationship lasted three months before I realized that I shouldn’t have to feel pressured into dating to prove I wasn’t gay. I also realized I’m a nuisance to sit next to in horror movies because my palms get clammy and I jump very violently during jump scares.

High school arrived and the spreading of rumors in hallways remained the same. People were undeniably less rude (or at least they were less direct). Nobody had correctly guessed my sexuality though, even though it was clear they were still trying. My high school peers were adamant about figuring it out because it was the only thing that made me interesting.

“I heard from this baseball player’s girlfriend that you were asexual,” my friend told me by my locker.

“Wait…what? Why?” “Well, you keep denying you’re gay. But I heard some people agreeing with her.”

First of all, I feel as though it is important to note that I had never met this girl that said this.

Secondly, why couldn’t I have cooler rumors not about my sexuality. I was seriously being cheated out of amazing ones like, “I heard his hair just naturally does that wave” or “I once saw him eat 40 pizza rolls in one sitting.” And thirdly, didn’t anyone have better things to do than guess my sexuality? Didn’t you have a sport to play?!

I was amazed people were so concerned about who I was sleeping with. Was I possibly a celebrity? I hadn’t done anything special enough to warrant that status. Maybe I was following the road to popularity the Kardashians took. In reality, it was a harsh wake up call to realize nearly everyone you know thinks you’re just waiting to come out. They all thought I was still “in the process of finding out who I was.”

The truth is that I’ve always known. I’ve never doubted who I was, but other people’s doubts about me made me reevaluate and question myself into oblivion.

I will admit I was envious about a lot of the things straight guys didn’t have to worry about. If I went through life with everyone knowing my sexuality, I would risk losing jobs, friends, and my right to marry who I want. The worst thing a straight guy could do was forget to say “no homo” after they brushed shoulders with a fellow bro. Like, that’s the extent of their worries. No, wait that’s not fair, there’s more than that. A straight guy could be offered a salad and be forced to explain that they don’t eat rabbit food or feel pressured to end every exchange with, “It’s been real.”

If any of my fellow heterosexuals found that paragraph offensive, I apologize. But if it’s any consolation, I have a few straight friends so I’m pretty sure it’s ok to type what I want about them.

I’m tired of people thinking I’m still partly in the closet. I’m in college, I don’t even have a closet anymore. Like literally, I don’t have a closet. My room is a mess. While I’m a bisexual, stressed out college student, I’m also just a human making my way through life, like you. I just don’t mind when the path splits two ways.

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PERIPHERY by oli peters The pan of my windowsill plant is threatening to overflow.

I run as a daughter Follows a river to its obvious delta. It spits water into the ocean, Unmoored. How unfair This plant is at the mercy of my hand.

Of course I forgot About sun And air and soil, Nourishment at the mercy of Something non-domestic – The almost-flourish of rounded green buds curled Tight – fists From the branches of my sill plant, My back curves Like the glass blown arc of a question mark as I bow To touch the earth, almost – What do I owe My mother.

I want to love her And I do

FRIDAYS. MARY MATHIS // A PEAK INTO AN IOWA CITY CLASSIC

But what she taught me About beauty is wrong.

I remove the plant from the sill, temporary non-exposure to the gridded window light so I can get It to the aluminum sink – forged chemistry the closest thing I have from artifice – The pan drops from the container and water rushes into The pipe-infused unknown where I see my mother finite I Realize how far We are from the core of the earth.

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photos by mccall radavich

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“I like owls. They have so much character.”

“I said, ‘well why? I don’t know how to cut hair,” And he said, ‘that’s got nothing to do with it.’ He said, ‘you can make your hands do what you want them to do.”

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REACH. a profile by madeline smith

The sun is setting as students rush into the basement of North Hall on a warm Thursday night. They’re buzzing with excitement and curiosity for what the next hour has in store. It’s easy to tell this class means something powerful to all of the students.

As they pile into the dark basement, illuminated by a single light at the bottom, they’re met by their teacher, Helen Neumann, who greets them all by name. However, one student is missing. Matti Poole. She’s running late because she left her latest masterpiece at home.

Flushed from running to class, Poole apologizes profusely for being late. She’s greeted by almost everyone in the

program intended for students around the country with numerous intellectual, cognitive and learning disabilities.

Currently, the UI has 58 students enrolled in REACH. “With art, disabilities are erased completely,” Neumann said. “They’re working with ideas their brains are producing and that’s it. No disability, just art.”

Poole was born deaf and has a cochlear implant, tucked behind her curly brown hair. She knows American Sign Language but prefers speaking over signing because she wants to refine her speaking abilities. She describes it as if she’s living in between two worlds: the hearing world and the deaf world. And she prefers one over the other.

“I am proud of myself and my ability to use speech,” she said. “Speaking helps me so I can talk to different kinds of people.”

I WANT TO SHOW

THE WORLD

I’M A

Over the summer Poole worked on a large-scale poster of seven students, each with their unique disability, holding up a letter to spell out “UI REACH.” She said it’s an homage to the REACH program, which has helped her grow as an artist and a person.

ARTIST.

“Matti is a super talented and a gentle human being who wants to make the world a better place,” Ries said.

G R E AT

class acknowledging her entrance. “Matti, you finally made it,” rings through the hollow basement. It begins to get too loud so we head outside for a quiet space to chat.

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When talking about art, her answers are flooded with conviction and pride. It’s this self-confidence and her ability to see the world around her so precisely that molded her into an incredible artist. One who just finished her most personal piece to date.

Poole, 20, is one of 15 students in Helen Neumann’s art class facilitated through the University of Iowa: Realizing Educational and Career Hopes (REACH), a two-year

Pam Ries, director of UI REACH, said Poole is a great friend to those around her and she is passionate about art and her goal of becoming a professional artist.

Through REACH, Reis said Matti has become more selfconfident and feels as if she can excel in anything art related.

“She is searching out new opportunities and believes she can accomplish her art goal in the future,” Ries said.

“She works hard and wants to learn everything she can so she can be independent when she leaves REACH.” As for Matti, the deep burning fire she has for perfecting her craft won’t be dying down anytime soon. She has plans to illuminate the sky with her talent and have the whole world take notice.

“I’m a great artist,” Poole said. “I want to show the world I am a great artist.

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RID

A

The accident resulted in her breaking her ribs, legs, collarbone and spine. The most painful was the metal pole that entered her abdomen and exited her vagina. She was hospitalized for a year, bound to a bed, suffering.

It is in this period of her life where Frida took her pain, both physical and psychological, and transformed it into art.

Frida’s father, a photographer, bought Frida her first set of paints and brushes in hopes of lifting her spirits.

Frida later recalls within her diary how horrible she was at painting, but her goal was not to be good and talented, but to put down on paper how she saw and felt the world around her.

FOR REAL. by natalia flores

Celebrated as an iconic figure for art, feminism, and creativity – Frida Kahlo is a symbol of success. Yet, the characteristic most recognize the Mexican artist for is her grown-out unibrow.

Frida Kahlo was known for being vulgar, bold, and unapologetically expressive. She wore brightly colored jewelry, drank tequila, smoked tobacco, and was promiscuous, often having multiple lovers at a time including men and women. While Mexico celebrated its revolution, Frida would become her own revolution for Mexican women.

As a child she challenged traditions and formalities. A popular Kahlo family portrait shows young Frida dressed as a boy and standing next to the men, a scandalous action for a woman in early 1900’s Mexico. But this is who Frida was.

Today, Frida is constantly celebrated for her art and her demeanor. Many celebrate her passion and her talent, but few know and understand the immense pain Frida lived with.

15 illustrations by elaine irvine

When she was 16, Frida was on a bus when a trolley collided with the bus. Passengers were killed; others were severely injured, including young Frida. Frida’s friends recall hearing nothing but her shrieks as she lay in the middle of the street, bloodied and covered in the gold dust an artist on the bus was carrying.

Frida made it clear to others she was not interested in painting a pretty picture, but instead pushing her demons out of her mind and releasing them through the paint. Despite her marriage to a celebrated painter, her dark, macabre paintings were not paid attention to or recognized until her last years of life.

It is this side of Frida many find easy to connect with.

She did not care about fame or art. She cared about the freedom of expression and about living life with a fiery passion. Her pain reminded her life was short and precious and there was no room to limit people to categories or rules.

Although Frida painted many portraits and sceneries, she would become her own favorite subject to paint.

Her self-portraits always highlighted her prominent features: her dark skin, thick eyebrows, and deep eyes. But Frida was more interested in painting her body by bits and pieces, often broken or bloody, and rarely smiling.

She cared about the

freedom of expression & about

living life with a fiery

passion.

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EL MURO: ELLA V. SHE BEING A WOMAN IN LIMA, PERU, by jennie wonderlin

Ella walks down the street and sees one car, one street light, one billboard. Ella crosses two cross walks, blows two bubbles of gum, and changes the song on her iPod twice.

Ella experiences five stares, seven whistles, nine honks. Three different times heads are stuck out a car window to watch her as she’s standing on the corner, waiting to cross the street. Ella is confronted by a man who is walking directly towards her on the sidewalk.

Ella keeps her head down, hopeful he won’t lick his lips at her or look her up and down as he passes by. Ella walks down the street at night with her backpack gripped in her hands and with her keys wrapped through her fingers, fearful of what could happen.

Ella wears a graphic t-shirt, jeans, and athletic sandals.

Ella is no more a woman than Ella is an object.

Every day I wake up knowing that I will be objectified by men.

I will be catcalled, harassed, and objectified because I am a woman. Some days I change what I’m wearing because I’m fearful of the reactions I’ll get from passerbys. I think to myself, maybe this knee length skirt is a little too risky? Some days I don’t want to leave the house because the thought of being objectified is so angering. I have many things I want to say to these men when they look me up and down, call me names that are supposedly terms of “endearment,” or make horrendous kissing noises at me. As much as I would love to make a snide comment, flip the bird, or spit in their direction, I can’t. I have come to realize that I now live in world that always has been and probably always will be…machismo.

I find that all women should be equal to men. I proudly state that I am a feminist. It is a fundamental right that women have treatment and rights equal to men. It is incomprehensible to me that all people do not boastfully call themselves feminists. Therefore, moving to a country that is notorious for being dominated by men is by far my biggest adjustment. (I use the word adjustment loosely because I simply cannot let myself adjust to this standard.)

“El Muro: Ella v. She” is a glimpse into the every day life of woman living in Lima, Peru. All of the things that happened to Ella have happened to me, or worse. For example, having water (or spit… still unknown) thrown at me as I was waiting for a bus or that one time my behind was aggressively slapped while in line to buy a hot dog.

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illustration by kenyon ellsworth

I have had enraging thoughts brewing since I arrived in Lima, but I had one experience that sent me over the edge. When I was out one night, one of my friends had his back side slapped by another man. He was taken aback, like anyone would be, quite obviously upset and angered, and showed it in a very public manner. After that moment, I then tried to think of all the times I have been objectified in Lima, but it was impossible because it is such a common occurrence. As much as it angered me, it also saddened me. My friend was able to show that he was dismayed because it will probably be the only or few times that

it will happen to him here, let alone his lifetime. But I realized I have become desensitized to these sorts of objectifications. If I got worked up every time I was harassed, I would live in a constant state of emotion. This subconscious change has left me with a feeling of emotional repression that I have never felt before.

As passionate as I am about traveling, there are so many unglamorous sides that cannot be made beautiful regardless of their filter, edit, or frame. This includes the sexual objectification of women.

I am not necessarily proud of the way the United States handles women’s issues, but I am thankful that I was raised in a place where a woman can have the mindset that they are more than their body, that they are more than what a man thinks of them, and that they are able to exercise their rights until there is equality between sexes.

Albeit this is positive, much more than needs to be done on a global scale. It is unfathomable to think about the number of women who have had their lives and mindsets altered due to living in a machismo world. It is heartbreaking.

I wish I had a better way to end this article. Unfortunately, I don’t have a solution. How does one change a way of thinking that is so engrained in culture that it isn’t even questioned? Even then, whose place is it to impose their cultural way of thinking onto some one else’s? These are only a couple of the questions that my anthropological mind has had a difficult time with. As much as I have thought about this issue, I still have come up conclusion-less.

Although I am without a resolution, I hope that reading this has opened other’s eyes to this very evident wall (muro) that has and is separating women across borders, between sexes, and amongst women and the world’s perception of them.

ELLA IS NO MORE

A WOMAN THAN ELLA IS

AN OBJECT. 18

STRANGERS

BEES, BEES, BEES

by cecilia fernandes

by angela fulgencio in three song eternities on this bus strange how we connect stranger, how sweaters touch strangers emulating heat through this chill we brace ourselves with layers until layers of cloth meet another so aware of window reflections wonder what this other sitting warmth thinks of droning machinery clicks and velocity wonder what they see when outside runs so fast so far away wonder what they feel when we shift with uncomfortable souls in bodies that cannot show what we cannot know layers upon unseen layers so all we can be is ifs and could bes but right now breathe feel tender unfamiliarity within three song eternities on this bus strange how we Connect 19

cici explains a thing.

Bee’s are DYING, people. Okay, now that it’s out there, I’ll speak to you in a neutral tone. Multiple species of honeybee have been classified as endangered in the United States.

Generally speaking, people are concerned about this issue - but why are bees so important to us? Will the dwindling bee population actually affect us? And why exactly is this happening? Well strap in, friend, because I’m about to give you so much bee knowledge that you’ll be able to impress any apiarist you ever meet. “Apiarist” is a fancy word for beekeeper; that’s factoid number one.

Bees are invaluable to our lifestyle.

They pollinate 75% of nuts, fruits and vegetables that grow in the U.S., along with thousands of other plants. Not only does this allow food to grow in the first place, but it saves the American agricultural industry literally billions of dollars each year. Every plant a bee visits is a plant for which farmers don’t have to find an alternate method of pollination. Amazingly, bees are also responsible for 100% of the honey made in the U.S. There are a few reasons that bee populations have suffered losses in the past 20-30 years, with the rise of monoculture being chief among them. Monoculture is a fancy word for “growing or raising one thing on a huge amount of land because that makes sense, right?” Dedicating a large plot of land for a single crop is certainly efficient, but results in a lack of plant biodiversity. The bees that live in the area can only thrive for a few

photos by mccall radavich

weeks while the crop - let’s say apple trees - is in bloom. Once the miles and miles of apple trees have stopped blooming, the hive is suddenly left with almost no food sources in their area.

Some farmers even have bees shipped in solely for pollination purposes, then shipped away once they’ve unknowingly fulfilled their share of farm work. This transport of bees makes it easy for disease and infections to spread to hives around the country.

There are several theories as to what causes this behaviour, but pesticides are thought to be the main culprit.

Some bees are also killed directly by poisonous pesticides and weed-killers used in farming or by universities to make their lawns emerald green.

The rising concern over bee populations is an encouraging step. Community interest (online petitions) can lead to policy change, like banning certain harmful pesticides. A personal willingness to plant native flowers or stop chemical lawn treatments can lead to healthier beehives on a local level. Along with these, supporting organic, small-scale farmers is another way to promote practices that don’t harm honeybees.

Like with the panda, it is possible for humans to create social and political changes that help grow an endangered species. Hopefully the push to save bees will be even greater, since they are more important to the global environment and provide services that we often take for granted. Now GO! SAVE! THOSE! BEES! 20

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LIGHTS DOWN, woman up

by jason grobstich The wind scatters their hair in a multitude of directions as they laugh it off, posing for their photo-shoot and fiercely standing side by side. “We’re like the Powerpuff Girls!” they exclaim, noting that they are all five foot two and that they all have different shades of hair color. Rubina Vidal, Caitlin Rose Edwards, and Taylor Edelle Stuart wander back to the Theatre Building and sit down to talk about their upcoming plans on founding and establishing their own theatre production company, before they all have to run to a rehearsal. We wander into the green room, moving around chairs to ensure that we can all see each other while not blocking the hallway.

Stuart, attempting to make coffee for their long night, realizes there are no coffee filters in the green room, and opts to use a paper towel to filter their caffeine for the night. “Taylor, what are you doing?” shouts Edwards, to which she responds, “Just let it happen.” Edwards and Vidal laugh it off, as if it’s just another day in the life. The aroma of coffee fills the dimly lit room as we discuss their post-graduation project.

ph

oto

sb

ym

ary

ma

thi

s

YOU DONT

HAVE TO apologize.

FOOLS: Where and when did this plan originate for your theatre production company?

Rubina: It really started freshman year when we all met each other. We are all really into the arts, and I think by learning our interests, and we’re all strong women, we want more work out there for women. To give women a voice in the arts and in the world in general.

TAYLOR: It just seemed so organic. We all became friends and it didn’t ever seem it was going to be a question we weren’t going to try to make the art we thought was important.

We had this menagerie of different tools in our pockets, so it just seemed like it made sense we’d jump into this.

CAITLIN: I would say the biggest thing we were taught at the university is they really want you to strive to make your own work. In reality you can’t be waiting around waiting for people to give you jobs. We know the business is extremely hard, and we know women are a lot of the times stereotyped and written in ways we don’t want to be presented. What better way to present ourselves in the way we want to than to write, produce, direct our own stories? We don’t want to

wait around to do things. I think we’re all proactive people and we get annoyed by being a pawn in the game.

FOOLS: Have you faced any obstacles in your path already?

T: I think what’s horrifying, brilliant and scary is we are jumping into a field we are predetermined to fail in, with a female artistic lead and run by females.

Only four female directors have been nominated for the Oscars, only one of which has ever won. This is a field is entirely built on this patriarchal order and is continually perpetuated than in many many fields.

We are jumping into this already guns blazing.

R: I think it’s also important to note we are doing a startup company, and startup companies themselves are predetermined to fail. Because nobody really wants to invest in a startup company, so it’s definitely been a huge obstacle.

FOOLS: Is there anything specifically that will set your theatre production company apart from other theatre companies? Do you have a working mission statement?

T: What really sets us apart is we are making honest work, written by women, produced by women, starring women, created by women, for women. I think our mission statement is going to be something like that. It seems like such a novel, simple concept, but it just doesn’t exist. I think people assume it exists, but it doesn’t.

C: I think particularly, as a playwright, feminism can get a little muddled. In feminism, there are societies that believe in order to be a strong woman, you have to be independent and you have to be this, and you have to be on your own…

T: ...and not want kids, and not want love.

C: I think our biggest goal is to show three dimensional characters, and women who are fully fleshed out, who are weak, who fail, and who struggle. That doesn’t mean they’re “real women,” they’re just people. They’re real people. I think the biggest thing we want is to open up conversation.

R: And to not be afraid to talk about these things.

We don’t want filters, there shouldn’t have to be filters. We should be able to express ourselves through our art, without feeling like, “Oh, I have to apologize.” Because you don’t have to apologize.

T: I think it’s important to note why we think we should be doing a theatre production company to solve these problems, as opposed to going out and picketing and signing petitions. I truly, wholeheartedly believe the arts are the strongest tool for social edification. I think half of what we’ve

learned behaviorally and societally has been taught to us, has been perpetuated to us through media, through theatre, through film, through books. And it’s like, at what point do we reclaim that?

FOOLS: What advice do you have for people, women specifically, who are feeling discouraged in this field? What has helped you?

R: Well, first of all, we have found each other.

Find a group. It doesn’t have to be girls or men, just find a group. We found a group of girls… a group of women, who want to support each other.

Collaboration is very important when you’re feeling down. Be with your friends, be with those artists that will support you.

T: The one thing I will say is never never never never give up. Because you are going to be told no so many times. And if you quit after your first no, if you quit after your 20th no, if you quit after your 100th no, you’re not going to make it. It’s all about the persistence and believing your voice matters. And in convincing others your voice matters, you need to convince yourself your voice matters. And that is the hardest part.

C: I want to acknowledge it’s not just us three. We just have so many people support us and want us to succeed. And it’s not just women. Find those male allies, they are so important. We have amazing men on our team. We focus so much on women but we also focus on the patriarchy, and how, within gender politics the patriarchy harms both genders.

All genders. It’s not about women against men, it’s about coming together and caring for each other and respecting each other under the basic understanding we’re all human beings.

With that, the trio begins to dissipate as they attempt to get to their rehearsal on time. Stuart grabs her coffee, and searches frantically for her dinner. “I bought her a sandwich from Bread Garden,” Edwards tells me, shouting to Stuart “It’s in the bag!

There’s creamer in the bag too!” Stuart grabs the bag and hurries out. A few minutes pass, and the interview concludes as the ‘Stranger Things’ theme song blares out from Edward’s phone. It’s Stuart on the other end, telling them they have to get to rehearsal.

Edwards and Vidal scramble out, heading off to their next project. It’s a play Edwards wrote, entitled “The Girl Who Came Out the Wrong Way”, with Stuart directing and Vidal starring. There’s never a dull moment with three women who are completely dedicated to furthering their messages of feminism, empowerment, and bringing understanding to the forefront, one story at a time.

WE ARE MAKING h o n e s t work, WRITTEN BY

WOMEN

PRODUCED BY

WOMEN STARRING

WOMEN CREATED BY

WOMEN

for women.

24

PIZZA FROM SCRATCH

THINGS I DO NOT MISS by ananya munjal

photo by marissa kelly

INGREDIENTS

1. We have absorbed the tower of beer cans on your coffee table, your friends jumping on second-hand furniture. Your palm pushes into the nail I told you (twice) to watch for, blood on the second-hand furniture, blood in the bathroom sink. I think of Tide ads and Bud Light changing the pH of your plasma as I wrap medical tape around the familiar of your hand.

100 grams self- raising flour 50 milliliters water 1 tablespoon olive oil (for frying) SUGGESTED TOPPINGS 3 tablespoons pizza sauce

2. Notes from Monday morning physics lecture: an object with constant force will exist forever in circular motion.

1 handful mozzarella, grated 6-8 slices of pepperoni

3. I have called three, four, eight times. You do not pick up. In the morning we watch boats on the lake and you tell me about your parents unloving each other. We don’t talk about my need for you, I tell you I think all music sounds good in a car wash.

Dried oregano chili flakes

MAKE IT, BABY

4. The half-space between us in your car is cramped tight with the weight of the cosmos. You talk of the rubber in these tires, the fibers of these jeans, the clouds hanging low, all made from recycled matter of the universe. I am looking at the hair falling in your face, you are quoting Sagan, “We are all made of starstuff.”

5. You take me to a car wash. You play a song I don’t know. You happen to me.

1. Whisk together the flour and water in a food processor for a minute or until it forms a ball.

6. The message you sent me with your favorite song: “the stuttering beat at the beginning is perfect, the unexpected direction of the melody at the chorus, the swelling synths, and then the bass-line riff that starts in earnest during the second verse, the intermittent guitar melodies that float in and out…”

2. Pre-heat the grill (broiler) on high.

3. Roll out the dough to about 1cm thick.

4. Place pizza dough onto a well- oiled, ovensafe frying pan on high heat.

7. The picture of the scar on your palm you sent me from California three and a third months later: “Do you remember?”

5. While the bottom is cooking,top the pizza with whatever your heart desires.

8. Notes from Friday morning physics lecture: if constant force is lost, an object will follow the trajectory of a straight vector moving away from the circle, forever away from the circle.

6. Continue cooking on high until the edges of the crust start browning.

7. Place the pan under the grill and cook the toppings until the cheese is bubbly & browning.

8. If you’re quick, you can have this homemade pizza on your plate quicker than it takes to cook a frozen one.

25

illustration by annalise castro

Things I Miss: You have been driving my car. In the rearview I adjust my own flushed face; quiet eyes, lips undone, charged hair. My hands have taken the wrong turn home, now, if ever, I swear, I am made of starstuff.

26

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PHOTO AND STORY BY MARISSA KELLY

each time

I

find

myself

The misconstrued view locals have of the

raving about my favorite place to grab a

establishment is truly a shame, because everyone

burger in Iowa City, the response is more

is missing out on my favorite burger in town.

or less the same. Few people know that the increasingly popular bar with an aesthetic

Boasting menu items like Venezuelan-style

to rave about serves more than just their

arepas, empanadas, chicken wings, and the

Moscow mules, red and white sangrias,

“Stairway to Heaven Burger”, Bardot has

and...well...every other drink in the book.

an eclectic mix of foods, giving residents of Iowa City the opportunity for a unique

This question recurringly asked to me is

culinary experience. Carnivores will relish the

justified, though. When Bardot first opened its

savory New York rib and Stairway to Heaven

doors late last August, they didn’t serve food.

Burger, while seafood lovers will delight in the fish tacos.

Co-owner Jackson Zapata said this selfimposed deadline caused a rush for them to

“We have a great menu and quality food, we just

open, so they made the decision to do so

wish more people knew it,” Zapata said.

without having a food menu ready.

Next time you have a hankering for a hamburger,

27

“We didn’t have time to open for football season

I urge you to head to Bardot and give theirs a try.

with food, so we opened without it,” Zapata

They may have been missing a food menu when

said. “It wasn’t good for us, though, because

they first opened, but their current one has made

now people see Bardot as a bar that doesn’t

it well worth the wait. Nothing cures the blues like

serve food.”

a dang good burger.

be sure to try STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN BURGER AND VENEZUELAN-STYLE AREPAS

28

Q: Kat Fey. It’s Kat Fey, right?

A: Like “cafe”.

Q: I’ll write that down. Tell us a little bit about yourself!

A: You mean just like anything?

Q: Yeah, just in whatever sense you’d like.

A: I’m a junior here at Iowa. I’ve gone through a lot of changes, I feel like-- just in these three years. I’m definitely not the same person who left Johnston, Iowa and came here.

A DAY IN THE LIFE

OF

A

GRAPHIC DESIGNER MAKING BY “MOVING SHAPES.” by alosha robinson

Q: Mentioning a lot of changes-- what were some of those like?

A: I feel like I’ve just like, grown up and become more independent.

I’m the only child, so people always have that stereotype where they say “oh, you’re sheltered,” or “you don’t get out much”. And I’d say I’ve always been outgoing, but college has just.. put that on drugs. I’m a lot more social, and I’m not afraid as much to like, talk to a stranger like you.

Q: Well that’s wesome news. How’d you get started with graphic design?

A: My mom says this all the time, she says: (Kat doing a vague impression of her mom) “You were playing with Microsoft Paint when you were 7!” My dad bought a Mac in 2008 or 2009, and I just started messing around with it, you know, Garageband and Photobooth. It was like, once he got that computer I felt like I could do anything creative technology-wise. Then in 9th grade, you had to apply if you wanted to be a designer for the yearbook-Q: --so you knew already at that point, that design was what you wanted to do?

A: Yeah, something about it just stood out to me. And I ended up being decently good at it, I ended up designing for our yearbook all through high school. I loved the journalism aspect, and I loved the design aspect. And I ended up winning an award for best infographic in the state-- and that kind of reaffirmed that I was actually good at what I was doing. Because in high school, you play sports or whatnot, or you do show And I had never really been “the @ KFEYDESIGN choir.. best” at something. But with design, I felt like I found my niche.

ON INSTAGRAM.

Q: Validation is amazing. Can I ask about that award-winning infographic?

A: It was called “Strange Sandwiches”.

Q: Woah.

illustration by kenyon ellsworth

A: I made this sandwich with like, peanut butter, tortilla chips, french fries.. I interviewed kids around the school and they’d say like “I used to put tortilla chips on my sandwiches”, and so it was just a weird infographic about people from my high school, and what weird shit they put on their sandwiches.

Q: Love that. What are you doing with graphic design these days?

A: I’ve done some decently big things in the last year. I’m the Graphic Design Chair for Dance Marathon-- which is the largest student org on campus. And then this summer I did a little internship with Chicago Blackhawks. I did market research for their retail shop, and then designed some things for them-- which was insane because, you know, Chicago Blackhawks.

Q: Hell yeah. What excites you most about your work?

A: Someone once told me “you should make a living out of something you do when you procrastinate”, and that’s what I do. (laughs) I just loving moving shapes around on a computer. When I put in my headphones, I just go, and it’s fun.

Q: When your work overlaps with your passion like that, that’s an incredible privilege-- but when a something is your work and lesiure, it can get to the point where that pursuit is seriously dominating your approach to life. I know sometimes as a writer I find myself unconsciously detaching from conversations so I can parse them for good dialogue, even while I’m actively participating in them. Do you ever find the mentality you take into graphic design bleeding over into your everyday life?

A: Well, I’m always looking at everything that’s designed and constantly picking it apart. It’s annoying but I love it. For example: every font, I stare at it until I can figure out what it is. Because everything is designed. (points down) This table we’re sitting at was designed. (points out the window) That stop sign was designed.

But I don’t think my designs reflect my life, either. I’m really messy, which is weird because my designs aren’t. My designs are all geometric-- they’re all on the grid. My life is off the grid.

Q: Mine too. What are some good fonts?

A: Gotham... and Archer.

Q: Nice. What about some more obscure ones?

A: There’s this font called Nexus Rust that for some reason burger joints and steak places always seem to use. And I don’t know why because it’s not really like a, burger and steak font.

Q: They’ve turned it into a meat font, you’re saying. Great. Last question, ready?

A: Sure!

Q: As an artist, I’m not sure there are many feelings better than the feeling you get when youmake something that you know is really good. Something that you worked hard on, that you’re proud of, that everyone else loves-- that’s a really unreal, hard-to-describe feeling. How would you describe it?

A: It’s…. It’s just like amazing. It’s better than getting an A on a paper. When someone tells you that you’ve made something that’s amazing, it’s like, “this is what you should be doing with your life”. Everything I make I want to get that feeling from it.

FRAGILITY OF FEMININITY.

photo and story by mary mathis

I’ve always been comfy. I’m a soft skinned, hair up in a birds nest, big sweatshirt lass. Those that know me, know I own 0 pairs of whatever one would call, “slacks” and personally, I think that’s a pretty unappealing word for something that is to go all around my bottom half for hours.

As you could have guessed, what confuses and intrigues me is the way women chose why to dress.

When I get up every day, I know it’s going to be a hard one. So I put on my best leggings with three holes in the butt, and cover those holes with a thrifted flannel tied around my waist. That’s right professors and peers, I am not just wearing this flannel to be “millennial grunge” I am wearing it to cover my ass.

Literally and metaphorically.

I’m one of many who live like this, but weekend after weekend I pass women who have their shoes off, dress half unzipped, and makeup dribbling down their face. So, why do we do it? Why do we wear high-heeled, low-rise clothing that make us wish we were in soft, breathable clothing. Why do we pluck, peel and burn our bodies to mold them to “perfection”? When do we look in the mirror and say: screw it. My eyebrows can be awry, my face can be bear, my feet can be comfy and no, my ears don’t need 6 holes in them.

It’s great to dress up. Believe me, I love getting gussied. There are times in which I truly feel I need to show people I have some sort of femininity and elegant beauty to me. I just completely confuse myself when I’m

FRAGILITY OF FEMININITY 31

walking home, miserable because my feet hurt, asking myself, “Were those two inches of height really worth it?”

It seems that everything that makes us “better” - please note those quotes - causes us physical and emotional pain. This makes absolutely no sense to me. Is this pain a cause of society perpetuating the beauty we’re supposed to fulfill? Is this tradition? Do we blame the corporations that absolutely refuse to make their shoes comfortable in any sense of the word? Or are we just willing to change ourselves and go through pain so we look “better”? If you’re reading this, and you believe it’s the last answer . . . why?

32

BACK IN BLUE

I haven’t said it out loud, but

I

THE CLASSIC COME BACK OF THE JEAN JACKET, by julia davidson

AM

A

JACKET/

Bringing back the classics is a popular theme in this day and age. Whether you actually care about the meaning and history behind the classics or are posing for a popularity angle…those are different stories. But when it comes to fashion, I don’t mess around with bringing back a “blast from the past.”

ADDICT.

The seasons are changing (this has to be the case since pumpkin spice EVERYTHING is back) and that means the way I style my outfits will change as well. I am a big fan of having staple pieces in your wardrobe that I can wear with multiple looks.

I haven’t said it out loud, but I am a jacket addict.

Most of my closet is full of jackets, from bomber, leather, and camo, to ankle length, all equally important. But at the end of the line is one beauty that rocks to the beat. My coveted jean jacket, lined with lamb wool,that I bought at Brandy Melville in Paris - complete with patches I thrifted and ironed on (with a hair straightener because life throws you curveballs).

“

A satisfying jean jacket, oversized, fitted, or just right, is something no one should take for granted. It can turn any outfit into a complete look inspired by street style, or class up an everyday posh look. Jean jackets can be layered with flannels and sweaters and also thrown over a bodycon dress and fresh sneakers if you’re feeling sporty-spice. For the days that you choose comfort, pair a denim jacket with joggers and a t-shirt and you have a complete look. Also, I know how popular not washing your hair is these days (no comment) and jean jackets pair perfectly with a beanie.

ADD YOUR

OWN PERSONAL

FLAIR.

Adding your own personal flair to a denim jacket can take a little edge off the traditional look. Locally in Iowa City, White Rabbit Boutique sells a wide variety of pins and patches that overwhelm the eye in the best way possible. Lively embroidery from all different vendors and diverse slogans fill baskets and shelves with creativity. It was enjoyable to see how different vendors added their own touch to their art work.

I highly recommend going in and seeing what you can snag to personalize your denim jacket look.

33

A denim jacket is something so neutral that it can really be paired with most anything. I say that lightly because there is always one person who will take that too literally. Honestly, I feel guilty confessing my love for the denim jacket because I am such a die-hard leather jacket girl, but being a fashion enthusiast, even I have to admit, it is fun to play the field.

IO OF

W

IT AC

Y

ETertSmann K C JA schm

h JEhAotoNs by sara p

34

MIXING THE ELEMENTS FORGETTING THE RULES, by julia davidson

An important thing to remember when styling an outfit: you don’t need to match. Patterns, textures, and colors can be copied and pasted straight from the mind to the body. Although, I have become a fan of the revised denim-ondenim trend, mixing elements of style is nothing to stray from.

When I say, “mixing the elements,” I do not mean earth, wind, and fire (unless you take a roll in the Hunger Games). I am emphasizing the idea of pairing smooth with stiff, grunge with delicate, and even achromatic with glimmer.

DRESS // Urban Outfitters SHOES // Public Desire JACKET // Forever 21 photos by stephanie sunberg

Whether you like simplistic outfits or dare to push boundaries, mixing the foundations of fashion design can create a bold and fun appearance. Focus on the star of the outfit and exemplify it by pairing it with other elements. Take a simple dress made of lace and mix it with a fabric that causes the dress to stand out, such as a leather jacket. Two different fabrics, yet they live in pure style together.

A recently purchased pair of treasured velvet boots but the heel is made of mirrored metal. The velvet has a sheen to it that bounces off the metal heel and it works in magical ways. The two opposite elements of soft velvet and hard metal came together to create a boot versatile for many looks and gave the outfit a new edge.

The idea of mixing the elements can reach far beyond just the clothing pieces of the outfit. Accents can do the job just as good if not just finalizing to the look. Discover a necklace with metal chains intertwined with thread, beads, or statement making crystals. This is a great item to add to your style collection and is also a satisfying example of how elements of design in fashion can work together.

Next time the moment arrives to style an outfit, do not be cautious. We work hard for what we want (for the most part) and I am not afraid to let that show through my fashion choices. More power to you for taking a risk to mix more than just the elements of fashion, but paint yourself as walking artwork.

35

YEARS. A NOTE FROM THE ARTISTIn YEARS, my goal was to inspire the subject as well as the viewer. With this idea in mind I sat in the Iowa City pedestrain mall and waited. “What do you want to do when you grow up.” Every time the question had a laugh a comment similar to “young man, I already am old!” But then, the wheels would start turning and they would take a second to think about the goals that are still present in their mind.

There answers were beautiful, insightful and important. These strangers more times than not would let me into their stories and share emotional pasts, Ones of love, travel, death and growth. Every single person has a story to share. They need to share them as much as we need to hear them.

SKYLER KNUTZEN

37

“When I get older I want to survive long enough to see if I am right about where the world is heading.”

Hirum , 71

38

39

“When I get older I want to live a little longer. “ Delores, 86.

“When I get older I want to see my children all be happy and be with my wife.”

Peter, 62.

40

The teeth shattered and the blood splattered into the brisk summer breeze. Within seconds, University of Iowa junior, Joe Flesner, had his front teeth fragmented on the sidewalk as he fell onto the concrete after a late night in Iowa City.

He hurried to the ER as the night took a grisly turn, his hands covering the blood escaping from his mouth. At the hospital, he was told the trauma from the incident left the pulps of his gums exposed, including uncovered blood vessels and nerves.

Hours of surgical work had to be done, and root canals needed to be performed. Once the initial chaos was alleviated, the scultpure` began to take place.

THE ARTISTRY OF DENTISTRY ART AND SCIENCE IN YOUR VERY OWN MOUTH, by jason grobstich

Where pieces became whole again, the dental school provided a unique outlet for artistic creation that is seldom thought about.

An art of creation, precision, and care to rebuild his smile, his sister being the sculptor Emily Flesner, a fourth year dental student at the University of Iowa, began making impressions of his teeth to create the molds necessary to fill the voids. The molds were then chiseled at to create the most accurate depiction of the teeth that were previously there.

“If you think about it, dentists are very similar to artists in the sense that they are some of the only professionals who have a vision and then create it by working with their hands,” Emily said.

Once the denture teeth were set, they were held in place with wax as they found the correct contours. The pressure was high to create an ideal replica.

“Hand-eye coordination just takes a lot of practice. The first time you practice something it looks awful, and each time it gets better and better,” Emily said.

And with a task like this, it should be noted that years and years of practice led up to this moment. A class on dental anatomy waxing proved useful, but Emily said classes

illustration by kenyon ellsworth

41

like pottery, jewelry making, drawing, and painting also assisted in the craft.

“These all involve hand-eye coordination and fine movements,” she said. “From wooden blocks and plastic to the teeth I work on today, the whole art is a lengthy process that takes years to master.”

Like most artists, the craft couldn’t be completed without significant time, dedication and intense commitment.

“It took two nights working in the lab to pour the stone models, create the proper tooth shapes, and make the clear retainer and clear matrix,” Emily said.

The life of an artist is non-stop, with Emily dedicating hours to ensure the new teeth were properly measured, fitted, contoured, and colored to ideally match the teeth that were previously there.

“However, if I don’t have any free-time during the day, then I will come back at night to work on lab work,” Emily said.

As many artists know, the countless hours of work eventually pay off. A night that ended in horror was resolved by an unlikely art form, all thanks to the particular vision his sister sculpted to reality.

“Dentistry is definitely very creative and artistic, more so than I expected.”

SCULPTED i n t o REALITY.

THE RESURRECTION OF THE

BLACK

BARBIE by bree jones

AS A RACIAL MINORITY growing up in a country founded upon

Anglo-Saxon ideals and European beauty standards I have been subconsciously conditioned to hate myself. No matter how many West-African bedtime stories my mother read to me, annual Kwanzaa parties I was forced to attend, or how many times I heard James Brown belt, “say it loud, I’m Black and I’m proud,” I still felt a deeply ingrained inexplicable sense of shame.

As a young Black girl these feelings were hard for me to identify and even harder to articulate. I felt compelled to constantly apologize for being African-American, for being born with this shade of melanin, but I could never comprehend why or to whom I was apologizing. I believe my semi-conscious rejection of self first manifested through the toys I played with as a young child.

At 6 or 7 years old, My ‘Barbie Box’ was filled with a wide of array of ethnicities, ranging from African-American, White, and Asian to biracial. Each doll had its own unique ranking based on several parameters such as litheness and special abilities, however hair was by far the most crucial element.

43

photo by mary mathis

In order to attain upper echelon status, Barbies must have silky smooth hair. As an avid Barbie connoisseur, I discovered that White Barbies had the best hair; blondes had a completely unmatched sleek luster and Brunettes had a warm softness reminiscent of cinnamon bronze.

Compared to African-American Barbies, their hair was far superior. African-American Barbies had a wider array of hairstyles and types ranging from: tightly coiled ringlets closely cropped to the scalp; thick coarse curls textured somewhere between loose beach-waves and afro puffs; and the occasional straight silken hair of White Barbie.

I suppose I should’ve preferred Black Barbie’s naturally wild ethnic mane, however she too closely resembled me and the perpetual struggle I had managing my hair. She encapsulated the seven plus hours my mother spent yanking, jerking, and pleading with my hair to cooperate. The painful process of uncurling coils through heat and pressure to straighten gnarled tresses into obedience. The many tortured tears I shed wincing through the time-honored tradition of “getting my hair done.” So I rejected her synthetic yarn curls and all the pain I packaged her in.

My mother recognized my unspoken preference and told me, “You know, they look just like you,” and for a split moment I thought, why would anyone want to look like me?

I never gave much thought to these interactions growing up. Who cares? They’re just dolls. However, I now realize that the parameters I used to assess Barbie serve as the foundation for how I view and categorize myself and others.

Sometimes I wish that I too belonged to the ‘upper echelon’ Barbie status because life would be significantly easier for both me and my future children. I would never have to tell them the poignant words my mother regularly told me: even if you work twice as hard as ‘them’ you will only be considered half as good. Those words would be as foreign to me as the complexity of Black hair.

However, this summer I was forced to reexamine blackness on a much larger scale.

Over the summer I worked as a camp counselor for the YMCA, primarily supervising preteens ages 11-14. During that time I developed a strong rapport with my fellow counselors and ‘our kids’ which sometimes bordered along the uncomfortable. The days consisted of sweltering heat, oppressive humidity, and the unrelenting campaign of pesky insects with thirty cheeky kids thrown into the mix. Our specific camp was located in an open grassy area near a densely wooded forest on the perimeter of a secluded lake.

Needless to say, the camp grounds often swarmed with various creatures, none of which compared to the terrifying enigma of preteen girls.

Of all the activities the camp had to offer, the girls and I found playing cards the most enjoyable. Several of the older girls and

a few boys would play cards with me on the camp’s dilapidated wooden picnic benches. We often played Spoons, Garbage, Speed, Uno or Number Slap while discussing the daily crises and trifles of pre-teen life under the sweltering summer sun. Through our card game conversations I discovered not only what our minority female campers thought about those around them, but also how they viewed themselves.

ah yes, I thought.

white barbie strikes again .

The African-American girls regularly discussed their ideal boyfriends and desirable physical characteristics. The girls would frequently tell me “Miss Bree, dark-skins are ugly…I like light-skins with green eyes,” “I would never date a white guy,” or some other variation of those sentiments. The girls would also nonchalantly comment on their self-perceived physical unattractiveness. “I’m ugly.” “No wonder no one will love me.”

Ah yes, I thought. White Barbie strikes again.

At these moments I would pull out my handy-dandy soap box and advocate the importance of self-love and racial acceptance while wondering, who taught them to think that way? Who had instilled in them the belief that they weren’t good enough? Who told them to hate themselves and for that matter, who taught me?

But quite expectedly my words, just like my mother’s, fell onto deaf ears. It’s hard to make somebody love themselves and it’s even harder to dismantle deeply-ingrained colorist dispositions while playing Go-Fish. I should know, because I too walked down the same path (without the Go-Fish).

Some days after work, I would return home and cry because although their individual experiences varied from mine, our stories were connected nonetheless, perpetually intertwined in a web of oppression and shame known to all minorities. Yet, I am glad I can empathize and understand their pain because it also mirrors my own. We will bear this burden together for the rest of our lives, shouldering the weight like comrades in arms because just as my mother said, they look just like me, coils and all.

KOLE BUTLER WEBMASTER

KENYON ELLSWORTH DESIGN EDITOR

MARY MATHIS EDITOR IN CHIEF

MADELINE SMITH WRITING EDITOR

JOSEPH FLESNER MARKETING DIRECTOR

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