The Revival Issue

Vol. 4 Issue 2

Perceptions Through phases of existence

In our cultural life cycle

Masthead

Editors-in-Chief

Hannah Rossi

Jane Lee

Creative Director

Avery Fox

Managing Editors

Maria Probert Hermosillo

Charlotte Benson

Design Editor

Catherine Li

Social Media Designer

Sophie Rier

Event Planners

Madison Goudeaux

Elyse Hopfe

Financial Director

Vyvy Le

Copy Editors

Hannah Heckman

Sara Dial

Prisha Arora

Matthew Collier

Jia Lin

Sahnya Keys

Staff Writers

Ashley Coleman

Sydney Meier

Sandhya Venkata Maddali

Sarah Xu

Isaac Hermosillo

Tiffany Lu

Casey Boyer

Ethan Guidry

John Escareno

Rachel Joy Thomas

Natalie Hernández Moses

Riya Thakkar

Asiyah Jilani

Designers

Youjin Choi

Allie Zhang

Grace Xu

Kendall Quick

Seoyoung (Elly) Kong

Austin Nguyen

Alexa Zimmermann

Melanie Faz

Karis Tsao

Zake Bjontegard

Hope Gullatt

Photographers

Julia Williams

Editor’s Letter

Dear Reader,

I began this year knowing that our publication needed new life, new growth – revival.

The word came to me when I reopened ORANGE’s storage locker last fall, for the first time in our two-year departure from campus.

Rifling through its contents turned up remnants of a day long-forgotten: past print issues, promo posters sheathed in fresh brown paper, a single, unopened bag of Boom Chicka Pop. All left, seemingly, under that same blasé assumption we all had: that a couple of weeks online would never recline into a month, then a year, then two. That return was inevitable; that someone would be back soon.

There’s an obvious line here – I’ll do us all a favor and skip it.

I joined ORANGE in the fall of 2020, and for my first four semesters on staff, I only knew it in the absence of shared physical space. I never imagined that, after two years online, I would be the one turning open its forgotten locks and attempting to navigate us back to the point at which they were left.

That’s what “Revival” does – it unearths what remains of the past and redefines the space it occupies in our present. It ushers the immaterial into physical existence, subverts complacent thought and gives new life to the forgotten. More than anything, however, it marks a new beginning for our publication, a return to vitality.

This issue wouldn’t have been possible without the support that I received from so many members of our staff, but especially our creative director, Avery Fox. She stepped up as a leader for ORANGE from her very first semester on our staff; I don’t know where we would be without her infectious energy and passion for the creative process.

I also want to say a special thank you everyone that’s stuck by me since I first took this position back in August. To Ashley Coleman, Maria Probert Hermosil, Jane Lee, Hannah Heckman, Sydney Meier, Charlotte Benson, Vyvy Le, Sandhya Maddali, Youjin Choi and Catherine Li: Thank you for believing in our publication, and in me.

So, here it is, ink and paper: Alive again.

With gratitude, Hannah Rossi

Gnaw

Words by: Joy Thomas

Design by: Avery Fox

There has been gnawing in my stomach ever since I was young. The feeling of purple bruises that blistered down my leg pumped a heavy beat in my heart. They burned and burned, thumping away underneath tattered clothing.

My teacher approaches me, holding a paper, also bruised. This time with the color of red ink scattered all across it. She asks me why I won’t try. She doesn’t understand that I am trying. I struggle to swallow the air around me, but my mouth refuses to breathe.

“I don’t know why,” I mutter. She looks sad. I’m lying, and she can tell. She knew something underneath the purple bruises explained my predisposition toward failure.

“Well, get some water and calm down. When you’re ready, you can come inside again,” she mutters. Honeyed words. Soothing, but alarming all the same. They share no empathy. I realize how close I am to crying. Still, I refuse to take a breath. If I do, everything would burst out of my body and collapse before her. Instead, the tears fall as she walks through a large metal door back into the fourth-grade classroom. Gasping, the staccato of my heart beats and beats, gnawing away at me until nothing is left.

The day passes by, leaving me in a haze. Gnawing, Gnawing, Gnawing. I barely see the yellow bus or the leather of the seats. Instead, I struggle to contain the feeling in a vehicle bursting with chatter.

I journey home from the bus stop, hobbling alongside a rag-tag group of strangers in a straight line, avoiding cracks on the suburban sidewalk. The sun beats down

against our tanned shoulders. The backs of my tiny palms feel warm but chafed as I slap them together, clapping to the sound of an iPod plugged into my ears. I had to keep my rhythm walking, as I was clumsy – I would fall if I didn’t. Clumsy, and covered in red and purple markings from my head to my toes. Gnawing, Gnawing, Gnawing. A loud shuffle booms next to my ear, and I squirm in place. Alexander jumps into the street, thumping his sneakers against a stick thrown into the road. The desperate urge to cry gnaws at my body once more.

Today was enough. Today was already too much. I need a reprieve. I desperately need to unlock the front door of my home with my monkey-shaped key, throw my yellow backpack to the floor and rush upstairs. When I finally do, I sit silently for a few hours, letting music blast until my head feels less fuzzy. At 10 p.m., I turn on Disney Channel and sneak downstairs for a tub of HaagenDaz ice cream — my dinner. My mother wouldn’t be home for another hour, so she wouldn’t catch me. I sit watching shows until midnight as I slowly lull myself back into a sense of calm. Sometimes, though, the TV would turn static, and the gnawing would grow. Further down my spine, in my stomach, between my toes. Not from the day I had, but from the static itself.

I was diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder when I was 14, but a part of me knew since fourth grade. I didn’t know what to call the way I felt about the world. I only called it “gnawing.”

My lack of understanding of my own body led to my own self-created thrashing in frustration and agony. There were many times when I

couldn’t speak to my parents. The words would sit like cement in my throat, hardening more and more until they were solidified and trapped away in my body. I was quiet, according to my teachers. I kept to myself. Sometimes I was louder, in bursts, but those moments were only when I was excited about something. When I cared, I couldn’t keep myself still.

As a college student, I remember thrashing, kicking and wailing with a certain agony. It felt preventable. It just remained unnoticed. Silent and kept away like the voice I seldom used.

My adult experience features the same anxiety. Gnawing, some guilt due to that gnawing and gnawing once more. When I get a low score on an exam, when a person unexpectedly leaves my life, when Speedway crackles and hisses towards me. All of those things cause gnawing. The tears barely hold themselves in my body when things are out of my control. The only difference between then and now is that I know who I am. I know the way my brain fires and how it operates. My autistic experience has always been surprising to people around me. When someone first meets me, I come across as “calm, collected, and entirely put together.” I’m a rational, self-driven machine in strangers’ eyes, ticking away at every part of my checklist. To doctors, it was surprising I could make eye contact; therefore, I couldn’t be autistic. I can

laugh at jokes, understand cadence, and read between some lines.

Therefore, I was just like them. In the eyes of every neurotypical onlooker who thought they had peered into my soul, I was a “normal person.” The truth, however, is that the sounds of things like tree branches breaking under the weight of a stubborn sneaker, loud pops on a school bus or even the static of Channel 45 on your retro TV can cause me to spiral into myself. My coping strategy was to wait. Wait until I got home or until the classroom door closed to let it all out. Wait until I was allowed to be alone so I could thrash and cry and rock in silence. Eventually, I had to let go of that strategy entirely.

A pair of noise-canceling headphones. Two sets of keys attached to my side. A weighted blanket and a

mug printed with a harp seal, inscribed “It’s my world too!” The comforts of life take away from the gnawing, thrashing feeling. Red marks no longer burn on my body. Instead, my hands shake from the excitement of the world around me and my little things. Instead of waiting, I found comfort in knowing. Knowing my place in the world. Knowing what my favorite animals were or what my friend’s favorite colors were, in order. Listing off every character trait I could think of until they were solidified like stone. Sometimes that’s all I would need. All I need. There is comfort in knowing every species of pinniped, the colors of my friend’s eyes and the exact hue of my college apartment. Those things exist for me. While they don’t make the noise subside, they are my place in a world that seemingly was not built to hold me. My frame still struggles to contain its tears. I still wait to cry when there are no onlookers, a sign of the mask I spent 14 years building, the walls of it caving in but still standing. The gnawing will always be a part of me, as sounds and problems will always exist in my world. Sometimes, I will still feel like the world doesn’t have the space to accommodate me. The ominous presence of emotional deterioration persists. The nights feel more challenging than the days, and the days are bursting with noise from every corridor. But the mask, the red marks, and that hidden tub of Haagen-Daz are no longer persistent in my reality. I will never be that fourth-grader, breaking and whimpering at the sight of the chaos. Instead, I have a world built around acceptance that gnaws away at the anxiety until there’s nothing left.

It’s a better feeling. 7

REVIVAL IS TAKING RISKS

Words by: Elyse Hopfe

Design by: Avery Fox

Photos by: @riacaptured

Ally Purugganan sat in her childhood bedroom years ago, showing the internet her new pieces of Pacsun clothing: fast fashion made in factories for cheap consumption at the high price of increased carbon emissions. Ally’s dream of content creation was fun to try as a teenager, but felt unattainable as a career.

After years of creative suffocation during high school and some of college, Ally’s YouTube channel was resurrected with another fashion haul from the future featuring a version of herself that she never expected to be realized. This Ally had hair dyed two different colors, collections showcasing all thrifted pieces, over 8,000 subscribers and her own vintage thrift store.

When she started high school, Ally became a leader for her church, a place where she recalls being heavily discouraged from self-expression.

“I remember once at church my outfit had an open back, and I was worship leading on stage. My director gave me a church camp t-shirt and said I had to dress into something more ‘modest’ in the bathroom.” Ally recounted that she was especially proud of her outfit that day since it was inspired by Sam from Danny Phantom. “I felt like my individuality was being taken away... I was embarrassed, and I cried in the bathroom. It was a major experience of being pushed down.”

In college Ally was no longer closely tied to that church. Her next test of life was one that everyone faced, the test of solitude and introspection that accompanied the COVID-19 major quarantine. Ally grew inspired by TikTok creators experimenting with fashion during the lockdown, and she was enthusiastic to follow suit by wearing “off-trend” vintage items in unconventional ways. Ally also discovered the ethical benefits of thrifted fashion, which encouraged her to try it even more.

“I never had too much pressure from friends or society because I have always felt unique and wanted to be unique. I was finally being able to dress as a creative outlet how I wanted to. Friends have been supportive, and I’ve reached my true potential of what I want to wear.”

Ally experienced a revival once the barriers of self-expression pushed upon her within the church disintegrated from her life.

In Ally’s experience, many people seem to avoid the discussion of what it means to achieve your true potential or pursue your passions in your career if they only promise uncertainty.

“A lot of people know what to do, but maybe that’s more of what they know they should want. I should be that way, but if I know I don’t truly want something, I can’t be as easily convinced. At least a fraction of college students everywhere don’t truly enjoy what they’re pursuing... is it worth it? Do they really even want to be there?”

During her time at Rice University, Ally knew that content creation was a “risky” pursuit, so she focused on exploring career paths in business and trying to entertain the idea of pursuing consulting jobs or graduate school. She started her business called “Starfire Vintage” in her junior year where she styled clothing for others, but she knew that its profits weren’t sufficient as a sole income source. She decided that her business was a “side hustle” as she reached her second semester of her senior year at Rice.

That was until her “thrift with me” video went viral on TikTok in December 2022. Ally now takes her content seriously. She asked her increasing followers whether they would watch YouTube videos about thrifting from her own channel.

She gained over a thousand YouTube subscribers in four days. She now receives comments like “I’m so happy you made a channel.” Ally fell into place in her own life, and she was back on the same YouTube channel that her 13-year-old self started on. Suddenly, the risk of pursuing content creation was one Ally was going to take.

“I felt a revival by losing stability in my future career prospects, which is something that held me back. I’m not saying to not care about salary, but test the waters if you have time to devote yourself to testing new parts of you. If you want to pursue anything new, like style or religion or anything else, and it’s something that you feel is your full potential, but it is not truly tied to your life, it’s still worth it because it’s part of what you truly want.”

Ally Purugganan is a 22-year-old senior at Rice University who is double majoring in economics and psychology. She founded a vintage fashion business called Starfire Vintage where you can shop her beautiful finds. Other Ally content can be found on YouTube (Ally Purugganan), Instagram (allyysophia), and TikTok (allyduhrey). 7

The Youthful Revitalization of The Sopranos and Breaking Bad

Words by: Sydney Meier

Design by: Avery Fox

Historically and contemporarily, white men have dominated the production and digestion of television media. According to a study by Statista in 2022, men watch an average of 3.04 hours of television a day, while women watch an average of 2.69 hours per day. The greater television consumption by white, older male audiences has led to the misinterpretation of young, non-white and/or female characters within popular shows. These opinions spread like wildfire and cause audience members to form thoughts on characters before watching the show.

The same study by Statista found that men make up 63% of critical behind-the-scenes roles (creators, directors, writers, etc.) on streaming media, while women make up a measly 37%. Black people make up 11.3%, East Asian people make up 6% and Hispanic/ Latinx people make up 14.5% of those same roles. These statistics contradict the current culture of necessary diversity and inclusion on screen.

Although young women and people of color continue to be excluded from the creation of certain media, these demographics chose to reclaim shows once associated with older male audiences. Social media platforms such as TikTok and Instagram have facilitated the revitalization of these inherently masculine shows and have allowed younger marginalized communities to recognize the nuances of previously neglected or disparaged characters – specifically “The Sopranos” and “Breaking Bad.”

“The Sopranos”

The story revolves around Tony Soprano (James Gandolfini), a New Jersey-based Italian-American mobster who struggles with having it all – trying to balance family life with his role as the leader of a criminal organization. The series aired from 1999 to 2007 and was both critically acclaimed – it won 21 major Emmy awards–and commercially successful – set a television record in 2002 of 2.2 million viewers per episode – while and after it aired on Home Box Office (HBO). The show is regarded as one of the best television shows of all time, and its character writing is no exception.

Tony Soprano “The Idol”

David Chase set the standard for morally ambiguous characters, writing Tony Soprano in a way that allowed the audience to root for his success while –hopefully – realizing that they were rooting for a man guilty of every sin in the same Catholic Bible he proselytizes his children with.

What makes Tony so compelling is the complexity and duality of his character: He is a murdering thief who exploits a broken system, constantly cheats on his wife and neglects his teenage son. However, Tony wins the audience over with his intelligence and ability to be loving without being incredibly nurturing.

When Tony was violent, it was out of necessity or an extreme emotional reaction; he never takes overt psychological pleasure from his killings. He needs loving, dominant women by his side because of his issues with his mother, while conversely employing submissive men because of his relationship with his absent father, who never showed him respect or tenderness. His mother relentlessly masqueraded love as shame, so he learned that dominant, degrading women could love him how he needed to be loved. Tony is revered by everyone around him, but he doesn’t feel deserving of this love as he confesses to Dr. Melfi, “I’m not a husband to my wife. I’m not a father to my kids. I’m not a friend to my friends. I’m nothin’.”

From an outside perspective, Tony has money, power, respect, a family and a side piece – everything you could want, really. However, this persona is shattered when the audience witnesses Tony suffering from depression, eternally plagued by both mommy and daddy issues, far from perfect. Yet, somehow the older male audience of “The Sopranos” still idolizes him as a man who “had it all” – the epitome of masculinity.

Christopher Moltisanti “The Chosen One”

Christopher (Chrissy) Moltisanti serves as a cautionary tale of how trusting the wrong people can lead to your demise. Chrissy is introduced to the audience as Tony’s inherently impulsive and loyal nephew, all too eager to be a murderous, sociopathic assassin for Tony’s needs.

Still, Chrissy feels that he is not moving up the ranks as fast as he should be. In season one, there is a moment between Chrissy and Tony in which Chrissy discusses selling his life’s story to Hollywood and leaving the North Jersey mob behind. Here, the viewer is introduced to Chrissy and Tony’s real relationship and power dynamic. The two clearly love each other, but Tony is in charge – Chrissy is nothing more than an underling. Higher-ups in the North Jersey mob know Tony holds Chrissy to a different standard because of their blood bond. Although Chrissy has potential, he is completely pathetic, with no backbone to support himself or those who depend on him. When it gets down to it, Chrissy will choose Tony over love every time, even if that means killing those he cares about, or even himself. Chrissy remarks while driving, “It’s like just the f*cking regularness of life is too f*cking hard for me or something,” as he realizes maybe nothing is out there for him. Maybe he was never meant to do anything more. What allowed Christopher Moltisanti to be “The Chosen One” in “The Sopranos” revitalization on platforms like TikTok and Instagram is his crestfallen inadequacy. He never had anyone to take care of him, so he never cared for himself. Chrissy stays loyal to the one father figure he has in his life – Tony – and constantly seeks male validation to exhume any personal sense of worthiness. He experiences a sense of constant impending doom when growing up, relatable to an aging Generation Z.

AJ Soprano and Chrissy Moltisanti are similar characters in that they are both sons (by birth or circumstance) of Tony Soprano, differing only in generational privilege. Tony’s son by birth, AJ Soprano, is born into a life of wealth and comfort; however, AJ’s character arc throughout the show gives an insight into the suffocating effects of ill-gotten gains.

When “The Sopranos” began, AJ was 13 years old, so David Chase juxtaposes AJ innocently playing “Mario Kart” on his Nintendo with Tony strangling a man with his bare hands. As time goes on, we see AJ constantly getting into trouble, eventually leading to his expulsion from Catholic school. AJ is rooting against himself in a world where he has every advantage possible.

The root of AJ’s misery is his inability to find a home. He is forbidden by his father to be a part of the North Jersey mob, he is not an intellectual like his sister Meadow and he is not cruel like his circle of childhood friends who are also violent, racist and sexist psychopaths. AJ’s own mother, Carmela Soprano, said that he was a cross the entire family had to bear. AJ – much like Chrissy – doesn’t have the backbone and ruthlessness of his father, and ultimately feels too much remorse. AJ hits his breaking point after witnessing who he thought were his “friends” assault a Somali student, and when he sees how his former fiancé, Blanca, and her son have to live compared to his incredibly privileged life. He attempts suicide, but, in the end, what saves AJ from death is what plagues him in the eyes of his parents his entire life: he cannot do anything right, ever.

A younger and more empathetic audience gives AJ Soprano what an older audience could never: perspective and insight. At the time of the show’s release, mental illness was incredibly taboo in general, so he was characterized as a bratty kid who never utilized his potential. However, a younger generation that prioritizes mental health gave the character insight and sympathy: he was a kid with a neglectful father and a critical mother who had panic attacks and depressive episodes that eventually suffocated him to the point of seeing only one way out.

“Breaking Bad”

Set in Albuquerque, New Mexico, “Breaking Bad” follows Walter White, a forgetful high school chemistry teacher who transforms into the ruthless, moneyhungry kingpin of the local methamphetamine drug trade. The family patriarch was first driven to provide financially for his wife (Skylar), son (Walter Junior), and unborn child (Holly) after being diagnosed with inoperable lung cancer. However, after this monetary goal was achieved, he continued because he developed a taste for power and fear-based loyalty. The series aired from 2008 to 2013 with similar critical reception and commercial praise similar to “The Sopranos,” earning 16 Emmy wins. “Breaking Bad” will go down in television history as one of the best portrayals of a power-fueled moral decent.

Walter White “The Idol”

Walter White is the protagonist of “Breaking Bad.” The audience begins their journey with Walter as we see him work two jobs – where he is not respected in the slightest – to support his pregnant wife, Skyler, and his son, Walter Jr., who has cerebral palsy. We are supposed to pity him even before he gets diagnosed with stage three lung cancer; Walter has so much intellectual potential, but the world never rewarded him for it. After he is diagnosed with cancer and given treatment options (as well as their expensive price tags) he opts not to push his pride aside and accept help from wealthy college friends, instead taking an unusual path and becoming a methamphetamine distributor.

He encounters characters Krazy-8 and Tuco, exposing his humanity through the mistakes and compromises he makes. Walter’s struggles to kill Krazy-8 and refusal of treatment portray him as a pathetic wet dog, continually kicked down. Walter begins to yearn for respect and makes moves against the current antagonist, Tuco, such as blowing up his professional domicile. This moment is when Walter’s alter ego, Heisenberg, is born, alongside the power fantasy.

Anthony Junior (AJ) Soprano “The Mistaken Villian”

However, season five is when this dynamic between the audience and Walter changes. Before season five, Walter and his antagonists take on a David vs. Goliath dynamic, keeping the audience rooting for White’s side. This season Walter truly loses himself, becoming the villain and hurting the people for whom he supposedly entered the business in the first place: his family.

Much like Tony, Walter gives the pathetic, misogynistic male audience an escape from their lives, a fantasy space where they can be respected as drug kingpins and geniuses. This audience begins to root against the very characters they should root for in season five. In contrast, younger, especially female, audiences can see through Walter’s feeble attempts to be respected as a man; in reality, he is nothing more than a self-destructive child motivated by pride and greed.

Jesse Pinkman “The Chosen One”

Jesse Pinkman enters “Breaking Bad” as yet another catalyst in Whiter’s downward spiral. Their relationship is similar to that of Tony and Chrissy, but flipped -- Pinkman is one that encourages White to pursue a life of crime.

Pinkman differs from White in his innate kindness and loyalty, though, matched by a loftier – and sometimes rigid – moral code. His unflinching loyalty is his saving grace – and his biggest flaw. Gus (one of Walter’s antagonists and a fellow drug kingpin) and Mike (Gus’s right-hand man) realize this quality in Pinkman, nurturing it to their advantage. White keeps Pinkman at a point of low self-esteem and desperation for his validation in order to establish himself as necessary in Jesse’s life. In another case of self-induced destruction, Pinkman becomes a character an audience can root for when White undergoes the final stages of his villainous metamorphosis. Although Jesse is unintelligent and an addict who constantly faces setbacks in his journey to sobriety, he remains an endearing, almost childlike character. Younger audiences resonate with the Jesse character, as he represents a breath of fresh air within a world of violence and betrayal.

When we see Jesse experience grief or witness him go back to a man that only hurt him because he is hoping that someday he will win the approval that he never received from his parents, young people can sympathize and put themselves in his shoes.

Skyler White “The Mistaken Villain”

Skyler White is the matriarch of the White family and is trapped in a loveless relationship with a man who spent his existence in a lifeless haze before becoming a drug kingpin. She wants to be a good mother and protect her children above all else. Unfortunately, when your husband is actively working against this protection by putting his family in danger because of his out-ofcontrol ego, the task becomes impossible.

Skyler is lied to by her husband for two seasons of the show; however, when she does finally find out about Walter’s double life, she has to keep it from her children because she knows how important Walter is to them. In the season five episode entitled “Fifty-One,” Skyler attempts suicide by walking into the family pool. Walter and everyone at his birthday celebration are in shock – why would a happy housewife with a healthy family attempt to take her own life? As the audience, we view this story through the eyes of Walter, who is so uninvolved with his family that we don’t get to see Skyler develop her depression, making it seem out of character when it is entirely grounded in her reality.

During the entirety of “Breaking Bad,” Skyler has normal human reactions to finding out her husband is not the person she thought he was. Her character makes mistakes; however, the mistakes she makes (adultery, white lies and using some of Walter’s drug money) are 100% in reaction to Walter’s actions. While Aaron Paul and Bryan Cranston have received neverending praise from fans and new watchers, Anna Gunn still receives death threats for a character she played over 10 years ago because she didn’t portray the perfect wife in the eyes of selfrighteous, egotistical men.

These main characters are supposed to be seen as the origin of their problems as well as the problems of everyone around them. However, when the impacts of these actions are felt by secondary characters – characters that might not be understood by the main character – then their reactions are taken and warped into something hyperbolic or unreasonable by a misunderstanding audience.

Young marginalized communities have been able to somewhat take over television viewing and single out previously released shows with misconstrued perceptions from a biased adult male audience like “The Sopranos” and “Breaking Bad.” Both of these shows center on male characters who represent power in the hands of toxic masculinity and how that power physically and psychologically harms those they love. These communities have shone a new light on characters whose issues were disregarded or minimized by an audience that was never able to fully understand the perspective, and never even tried to empathize with the characters. 7

A Morning at the Austin Zoo

Under a bright blue sky, cedar trees rustle and mockingbirds sing as Austinites wish each other good morning, eat breakfast and enjoy another relaxing weekend. The clock has not even struck 10 a.m., but one small corner of the hill country still bustles with particular activity as its inhabitants start their day.

Words by: Casey Boyer

Design by: Allie Zhang

Longtime residents Makayla and Lu groom one another, taking an occasional break to swing from tree branches and chatter at their neighbors. Spike munches slowly but persistently on a salad, basking in the light of the heat lamp that warms his mottled shell. Meanwhile, Wiley bounds around a towering oak, whiskers, pointy ears and bushy red tail twitching with excitement at the sight of her breakfast.

Since 1994, the Austin Zoo has rehabilitated and cared for animals from every imaginable background, whether they be former pets, victims of natural disaster or simply unable to safely return to the wild. Operating as a non-profit without any city or state funding, the organization’s unpaved trails, expansive enclosures and thriving flora all model a zoo that prioritizes the interests of residents, rather than guests.

Zulema flexes her enormous paws, eyes squeezed shut as she stretches and yawns in the morning sun. The tiger’s black- and white-striped coat gleams, making her easy to spot atop a tall wooden platform built amongst the trees of her enclosure. She’s one of the zoo’s newer residents, arriving in 2020 after federal officials discovered her malnourished inside a cramped cage at a South Texas home. Today, Zulema’s blue eyes shine bright. More importantly, her belly remains full.

Tucked behind a fence just yards away, Roxie, Oliver and Willow tussle and tumble in the grass, their thick tails waving back and forth as they play. Eight years ago, a hunter shot the cougar siblings’ mother in Washington state. Wildlife officials brought the month-old orphans to Oregon, where a keeper carried them aboard an Alaskan Airlines flight headed all the way to their Austin home. Oliver effortlessly climbs the branches of a tree, his fuzzy ears twitching as he surveys the land below. Meanwhile, Roxie and Willow take turns greeting the morning visitors, quietly huffing as they investigate the fence line before retreating to lounge in the sun.

On the other side of the zoo, Bill and Oscar take up residence inside a small, brightly-painted house. Behind turquoise wooden walls, the two nocturnal amphibians munch on an assortment of insects in the warm humidity of their adjacent terrariums. Bill, an elderly smooth-sided toad native only to South America, settles down for a good day’s sleep on a soft bed of mulch. A former pet, the toad had been left behind by his owners in an empty duplex unit. Fortunately, residents moving into the unit discovered him and contacted the Austin Zoo, where he now lives out the rest of his days. Oscar, a White’s tree frog hailing from Australia, also barely survived abandonment when his owners deposited him on the zoo’s porch in the middle of winter. Oscar’s pale green limbs gently wrap around a sizable twig as he unwinds for a peaceful nap, safe at last. 7

Perceptions

Revival subverts our thinking

An Interview with Jesus Christ

Words by: John Escareno

Design by: Avery Fox

Personally, I’ve always struggled with religion. Maybe it’s because Mass was boring, or because the only fun part about it was the stories. Or maybe it’s because, since I was a kid, that’s all the gospel has been to me: Stories. Stories of seas being parted, frogs raining from the sky, men being resurrected. I mean, as hard as I tried, I never could see the Bible as more than the comic books I’d read the morning before church. Either way, I’ve never fully believed in God or Jesus. So when I awoke to the sound of an angelic chorus and a knock at my front door, I thought that maybe I was just going insane. But no, I opened the door to a blinding white light. Soon, it began to fade and I saw the outline of a person within the light. As my eyes adjusted back to normal, I realized that I was standing before… Someone who sort of looked like Jesus? His dark skin was glowing, but his hair, usually depicted as long and flowing, was neatly tied into a bun. Instead of a white robe, he wore a flannel and some cargo pants. I stared, confused, at this strange, messianic doppelganger. It was as if every modern depiction of Jesus had morphed into one and landed on my doorstep. He must’ve noticed my confusion, as he laughed and walked in.

“Sorry, man, it’s a hot one out there, need to cool off.” He briskly walks around my house, scanning it. “Which one is your room again?”

In a gesture of pure confusion, I point him to my room. He walks in and I hear him rummage through my mini-fridge.

“You still have Gatorade, right? You have no idea how much energy it takes to get down here!”

“Y-yeah, I do.”

“Knew it!” After a few seconds, he strides out, two bottles of Gatorade in hand. “I got you one too, figured it would be rude if I didn’t.” He tosses one to me and the bottle slams roughly into my chest before falling to the floor.

“You’re still figuring this out, huh?”

I was. As weird as this guy was, I could just tell, deep in my soul, that this was Jesus. Christ himself was in my house, drinking one of my blue Gatorades. All I could manage to mutter as I bent over to pick up the bottle was “What are you doing here?”

“A few things,” he replies with a chuckle. “First, I had to spiritually broker peace between the U.S. and New Zealand. Who would’ve thought New Zealand would try anything? Then I had to perform some miracles, you know, end a drought here, stop a fire there, you get me?”

After wondering what New Zealand could even try, I stammer out another question.

“But, why here?”

He looks at me, seemingly deep in thought.

“Well, every time I come down to Earth, I decide to meet up with someone to help them out.”

“Why me?”

“Eh, to be honest, you were on the way.”

“Oh. So, what now?”

“Come sit down, I’ll tell you.” He says, patting his hand against a worn spot on my couch. I sit down, twisting the bright orange cap of my Gatorade open as he continues on.

“So, it seems you don’t have a whole lot of clarity, right?” Jesus queried.

I was at a loss. “How so?”

“You just don’t have the answers. But, you need them. I’m here to give you some.”

“Okay…” my voice trails off. He’s right.

“So ask away!”

“...About what? A- anything?”

“Anything,” replies the Brawny-manified Jesus with a calm smile.

There are so many things I want to ask. I mean, should I ask about the future? The past? A million thoughts race through my head, but the first one out of my mouth is…

“Why don’t you help more?” I cover my mouth with my hand as soon as I say it and stare at him in embarrassment.

“Don’t freak out. It’s a good question. I mean, with every word coming out of my mouth, people are dying. Why don’t I save them? Well, in short, I can’t. Some people…have to die. It sounds shitty, I know, but it’s true. Some people have to starve. Some people have to die fighting wars they didn’t start. Some people have to fall down stairs. Some people have to die.”

“Why?”

“Balance. Think about it like this. If everyone who had ever lived was still alive, this planet would be dead. Billions more cars on the road, billions more people who need to be fed, which means billions more acres of land used for farming, which means billions more animals dead, and so on and so on. Do you get me?”

“So if my mom died, it’d be because she threw off the balance?”

He shakes his head,“You’re making this sound a lot worse than it is. If your mom died—” he stops, noticing the judgemental look on my face, “If someone died, it was for the betterment of humanity, of every-

thing! I’m not gonna act like the goal of life is to die for others, but it’s a means to an end, man. It’s how life worked, and how it always will.”

“I… I don’t know… I guess.”

“Give me an easier one, I’m already bummed.”

“What was it like to die?”

“Huh,” he mumbles, scratching his beard. “Believe it or not, nobody’s ever asked that. They all ask for the meaning of life or if they’re going to Heaven, which by the way…”

He looks at me and cringes. My eyes widen before he bursts out laughing.

“Oh my Dad, you should’ve seen your face! Nah, you’re good, everyone goes to heaven eventually.”

I take a deep breath, “Don’t do that, I was horrifi—wait what?”

“Yeah, everyone ends up topside after a while. Just a matter of how it takes them to get there.” “Why would it take long?”

“You ever hear of the Roman story of the guy who pushes the rock up the hill?”

I nod,“Yeah, Sisyphus. He’s Greek though.” “Whatever. Think of the road to Heaven like that. You’re rolling the stone up the hill. But your sin, your

impurity is that stone. For some people, it’s a pebble and they make the walk in an hour. For others, it’s just like ole Sisyphus and they gotta take time to roll it up.”

“How big is Hitler’s rock?”

“Ha! Guy’s got his own mountain. Hasn’t left the summit in decades.”

“Good. But back to my question, what was it like to die?”

“Well, you gotta understand, since I’m the son of God, I’m a special case. So when you die, it’ll be different. But, man, it was weird. When you know your whole destiny is to die, you don’t sweat it as much. But at the same time, you feel a lot of pressure,” he pauses, looking off while sipping his Gatorade.

“I tried to do everything at once, make everyone happy, cure every sick person. But I couldn’t, I mean. And by the time I saw those Roman guards, I swallowed my pride and got laid up on that cross. Death… Was cold. But, like, only for a second. Then it was warm, like a blanket. Soon, I was up on high, and seeing that my death meant so much, it changed things. Really changed everything. When I came back down, I was happy to do my business and head back up. And since then I’ve been pretty at peace with it.”

I nod, understanding his point in a more mundane sense. “Speaking of, what’s heaven like?”

“That’s a whole bag of worms,” he sighs, propping his feet up on my water-ringed brown coffee table. “Heaven’s sort of personal, you know. Let’s say you loved dogs, you’ll end up in heaven with a bunch of dogs. Or if you loved having sex, you end up in heaven with other people who liked having sex so you all can—”

“Have sex, yeah,” I say, finishing the thought. “Is there a central hub or is everyone just separated in their own personal heaven?”

“Oh, of course, people can go visit each other, see each other -- I mean think about it, do you think we’d stop people from meeting their families? Heaven is heaven for a reason. Same for celebrity meetups. Though, a good few of them are still heading up the hill.”

“That’s kinda disturbing.”

“Oh yeah, you gotta realize, a lot of people on earth are effed up. Like seriously gone to the dogs. I mean, I don’t use many earthly things, but have you been on Twitter for more than five minutes? You live in an awful world.”

“That’s another thing. You mentioned balance, but the world still sucks! How is this balanced? People are suffering because of the actions of just a few billionaires.”

“See kid, it’s not that easy. Really. Wish it was. As much as we can try to sway people, it only works if people want to be swayed. It’s that whole free will thing, you know? That peace I brokered today? New Zealand’s prime minister knew they didn’t have a chance against the U.S., so they didn’t want war. And the U.S. would look like a bully if they annihilated New Zealand, so they didn’t want it either. But some people, they’re people, you know? They have their own desires, their own wants. And sometimes those desires require awful decisions. Not that that’s

an excuse. There are people alive that’ll have a rock as heavy as the earth itself when they die. Some people are just okay with being awful. And at that point, we can’t do much. That’s why it lands on you. You all have a lot more power than we do sometimes. Seriously. Just because I can cause a flood doesn’t mean you can’t. Go break a window. Have a protest. Get yourself noticed. And go from there. Hell, religion is just a group of people who want the same thing. I feel like protesting isn’t much farther than that.”

“Well, I’m sure there are some differences,” I start.

“Oh yeah, for sure. Religion nowadays…Yikes,” sighs Jesus. “You know, half of the stuff in the Bible that those weirdos reference wasn’t even in the original? It was either added or modified. You know, I love gay people! That one verse was about pedophiles! No wonder the Catholic Church changed that.”

I chuckle, and Jesus gets up, placing a hand on my shoulder. “But seriously. My job mostly consists of managing upstairs and taking care of giant issues down here. All the many, many, many other problems end up in humanity’s hands. Whether I want it or not.”

“So, you came down here just to tell me to do more?”

“No, no. Not just you. Everyone. EVERYONE has to put in more effort. If they don’t, the world’s gonna go even further down the drain than it already is,” he stops for a second, eyes misting over. “I mean, I’m trying, but I can’t fix the ozone layer or pollution. That’s on y’all. But, if I didn’t trust that you could do it, I wouldn’t give you the chance.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Well, would you rather the planet just blow up or everyone on it to die a slow, agonizing heat death with no help from the people who ruined the planet?”

“Neither!”

“That’s the spirit I’m looking for. You got this, and so does everyone else!” Jesus yells over his shoulder as he walks back into my room.

“Hey, I’m taking like two more Gatorades. I’ll leave a bunch in Heaven for you when you get up there! All good, right?”

“Sure…”

He comes back out and ambles towards my front door, opening it while he turns back to look at me. Before he can leave, I blurt out one last question.

“Hey, so what’s the deal with like, every Republican?” I squeak.

His expression hardens and he sighs, “Look, man, we all have our off days. We’re still trying to recover from that one. Now, goodbye.”

And with that, a bright light flashes again and I settle back into my couch. A sense of calmness surrounds me but dissipates quickly as a realization sets in. I start punching in 911 on my phone – those edibles I took might’ve been laced. 7

Words by: Natalie Hernández Moses

Design by: Sophie Rier

The first experience I had with panic attacks was when I was young. Young enough that I still slept with a night light and had dolls in my room. I have this distinct memory of being tucked into bed, closing my eyes and a tiny voice in the back of my head whispering, “This is gonna be what it feels like when you’re dead.”

I imagined a physical manifestation of my soul floating through a vast, empty chamber. There was no one to talk to but myself, nothing to see but dark eternity. Except, it wasn’t a chamber at all: It was miles and miles of nothing, like the depths of an ocean or an interminable stretch of the atmosphere beyond our universe. There were a few bright lights here and there, but like the horizon, you could never quite approach them, no matter how far you walked. It was lonely. And then the little voice would speak up again, “What if it’s absolutely nothing? Not even your own consciousness, not even little stars, not a single sliver of awareness, and truly nothing. Nothing to see, nothing to hear, nothing to anticipate, nothing to feel. What then?”

I tried to ignore it, I really did. I tried and tried. It went on until I realized I couldn’t get through it on my own, so I got out of bed and ventured into the dark hallway to find my mom.

I found her in bed with all the lights off and tried to explain what was wrong through the shaky voice of a frightened little girl while she tried to calm me down. God bless her for trying – I’m sure I sounded ridiculous. But how do you tell your religious mother that the thought of death frightens you so terribly that you’re struck with a panic attack because you don’t fully believe in heaven or hell and are convinced that after death, consciousness will float within the noth-

ingness of the universe, with not even stars to keep you company? How do you tell her that the foundation of your Catholic faith, the birthright she gifted you, is so weak that the image of Jesus on the cross makes you feel so guilty for not believing that you dread going to church? You don’t. My mom’s solution? Praying. It’s her solution to everything. So I prayed and I prayed and I prayed for some peace of mind. And just like moms are always right, praying worked. It took years, but here’s my conclusion: Heaven looks different for everyone, regardless of their faith or what they went through in their life. And even if there isn’t a Heaven, I choose to believe that my soul will go on to live in something else. I believe it’s a choice for everyone and everything. We all have something that lives inside us, something more than an anatomical heart or the manifestation of a personality in our brain. Something that is entirely us and cannot be disputed. Our souls, the ones residing in humans and the world around us, will live on without our bodies and without the guarantee of Heaven. They cannot be contained. How reassuring that everything that makes me me, has been with the universe since before I was given this body and will continue to be with the universe after my body is gone.

So when the sun returns to the water, my soul too will return to the Earth in all her mighty glory. My body will crumble piece by piece, heels stuck to the ground and toes wiggling in the mud until they dissolve into each other. The rest of me will be eaten up impossibly slow, and I won’t do a single thing to fight it. The whole planet will open up, and I’ll be swallowed. Swallowed like a worm by the early bird, swallowed like ripe fruit by a child.

Maybe then, just maybe, something else will grow in my place. Perhaps a little cactus sapling springing from the desert soil I had a hand in fertilizing. Something to nourish the entire world while I’m gone. My soul will live on in the Earth, not in the endless nothing I spent my entire life fearing. That’ll be Heaven for me: When I live on in the beauty Earth has to offer. When my family is around me, and our love for each other manifests itself into the beautiful blossoms of the cactus flower, into the once-in-a-blue moon desert flood. And when I am nothing but the mush under everyone’s feet, I will finally feel at peace. 7

Words by: Riya Thakkar

Design by: Youjin Choi

Malachite Provides protection from negativity, clears and activates your chakras, essence of joy, “stone of transformation.”

Green Aventurine Releases old habits and thoughts so growth can take place, grounding and stability, and encourages preservation.

Carnelian Courage and confidence, is an empowerer for oneself and elicits joy.

Moonstone

Inner clarity, embraces new beginnings and is closely associated with feminism in the sense that it brings out balances and softness, and your inner intuition.

Selentine Brings protection and harmony to oneself, and ultimate healing of the soul and body. (Fun Fact: It is said this crystal is a “beloved goddess stone.”)

Do you hear it? Do you hear the rest of your life calling out to you?

When it comes to healing, what they don’t tell you is that it’s, well, hard. Finding yourself is hard. Becoming familiar with who we are in such a vast world is hard. It’s all HARD.

Crystals aren’t our knights in shining armor, but rather guide us on the right path, the path that we all uniquely term our life. Because finding crystals is hard, and because healing is hard, here is something to make it all a little easier – a list of crystals that are meant for healing and revitalization at moments of weakness and disorientation.

A gentle reminder: One crucial step, typically forgotten, is cleansing your crystals before setting intentions and allowing them to be a part of your daily life. A great way to cleanse your crystals is to get some incense and use the smoke to clear out any energies formally attached to your crystal and allow it to inhabit your intentions only. Imagine what you want from the crystal, how you envision yourself behaving in the future, what opportunities you will achieve and what emotions you will experience. These visions will guide you to find the right intention for your crystal and using it in everyday life will start to reshape what path your life follows. Allow it to guide you, allow yourself to heal, and redefine what life means to you. The process is all a part of the path, and the path is arranged for you to discover all the impurities but all the masked beauties that are contained in your life, so go on and discover them with the guidance of spirituality cheering you on.7

ANGEL NUMBERS

NEW CELLS

Words by: Elly Kong

Design by:Elly Kong

It is night, and you are wrapped in a peaceful slumber. Then, a giant beam of light envelops your room and kaboom – electricity crackles and splinters over the surface of your skin. It feels like something was taken away from you in the blast, a feeling almost akin to ripping excess skin off your thumb, but over your whole body.

It must just be shock from the lightning storm, you think. Because how could you just get struck by lightning in your room? Waking up to a headache, you squint – it seems like your mirror is a little differently colored, maybe a little bluer? But you’re tired, and you say, “Ah, let’s worry about it later,” and go back to sleep.

A beam of sunlight wakes you up and you do your morning stretches, then notice that weird tint in your mirror again.

You look closer, and your reflection is different from before. So realistic, so alive, almost like you can touch your fingerprints: your presence seems to have… Doubled? As you make funny faces and laugh at the reflection in the mirror, you and your reflection look at each other, confused, cocking your heads in opposite directions. This startles you, as it’s not how a mirror works, and when you touch the mirror you feel the warmth of the other hand.

You’re shocked, step back and start to notice the subtle differences in the movement of the mirror and see that the background is also different, with many objects that seem dim or bleaker somehow. But you take another step forward to grab your clone’s hand and grip it tightly to pull your reflection into this side of the mirror.

When your clone steps out of the mirror, everything is the same: down to your eye color, body shape, nose, hands, feet, the last strand of purple hair. You have been duplicated, on a level that can only be cellular.

Your new friend seems zoned out, thinking, and comprehending.

“Whoa, we just got duplicated – I have all your memories!” they say. “Really taking the word brain dump to another level.”

“I was always this attractive? Haha thanks, you’re so polite! Well, thanks again!” you both say in unison.

You guys start talking and experimenting; all the interests, wants and hates are the same, but less intense on your clone’s end. Yeah, they like your family, but they didn’t actually experience the family trips, dinners, fights, and quality time. It’s like they saw a movie full of characters that care about and emotionally spent a lot of time with them, but it still feels surreal: like they were revived with recollections of your experiences, but with the emotions and thoughts about your life dulled to only a memory that isn’t theirs.

They don’t seem as passionate about your favorite TV shows, because while you can talk for hours and hours about them, they seem bored. They care about your stuffed animals, like your giant Kirby plushie, but not as much as you do. It seems like they have the same dreams and aspirations as you, but in a more nonchalant way.

“Hey, but don’t you remember this? Or this or this?”

“Yeah, but... I don’t care about it as much as you do, ya know.”

However, their distant perspective allows them to give great advice about your life, because they know everything you went through and what your thought processes were. Listening through the lens of

a second person that knows everything about you makes you really reflect on your life and what you should do in the future.

Then both of you have a great idea, “We can work together and split up the work we have in classes! I can do Mondays and Wednesdays, and you can do Tuesdays and Thursdays, and we can tell each other what we talked about, especially with friends and teachers. This can’t possibly backfire!”

As the days pass, you both perfect a system where the two of you split work evenly to improve your collective existence: you can take less stressful classes, work on big projects together, have more free time and do activities you probably couldn’t do alone or didn’t have time for, like surfing, reading books, learning crochet, chess and improving your art and music by critiquing each other.

This works well for a while, but then you start to realize that you guys have uneven skill sets since your experiences are different, and start to harp on flaws you see in each other.

“It’s so messy to live with you.”

“You’re so careless and forgetful sometimes.”

“I can’t explain as well as the professor, you just had to be there!”

“What do you mean you don’t understand, the answer is literally right there!”

“You think you’re better just because you know how to do this?”

“Why did you procrastinate?”

“I hate how you never listen.”

“I hate how you’re only mean to me and yourself while you’re so fake and friendly to others, like if we’re gonna live with each other forever don’t you think we could be nicer to ourselves?”

“Why haven’t you done the dishes?”

“Why haven’t you taken out the trash?”

Everything comes to a head when Number Two accidently jams and breaks the sewing machine you were given by your dead grandma. They say they are sorry about it, but you can tell they don’t really care as much as you do. It’s hard to live with yourself and split everything – you decide to kick them out of the house.

You both agree to go separate ways and pursue different careers. You want to help the world and the people you love by becoming a doctor. Your reflection follows their (and technically your) creative dreams and becomes a streamer, something you always wanted to do but couldn’t since you felt you had to give back to the world as a doctor. Both believed that since one of us was changing the world, one of us could do something they were passionate about.

15 years later, you are caring for a 13-year-old patient.

“Hey doctor, you sound so much like this V-tuber I love to watch live!” she says. “Even your sense of humor is similar, are you guys twins or best friends?”

“Yeah something like that,” you reply with a smile. “But we ended the friendship years ago because we weren’t treating each other nicely.”

That night, you check out the stream and smile, reminiscing on your interactions and lives.

“I wish I was nicer to you back then – we were doing our best,” you text them. 7

Words

by: Hannah Heckman

Design by: Grace Xu

We’ve all heard that when one door closes, another opens. I wish this hopeful sentiment accounted for the hallways that frequently stretch between these doors. It’s hard to know how to feel about the past or what to expect of the future when you’re walking through the seemingly endless corridor in between.

These “in between” times can be confusing and seem meaningless, but they also provide the most space for personal growth. Still, it can be hard to navigate these transitory periods

emotionally. When I’m not sure how to feel, it’s comforting to know I’m not alone in my uncertainty. I’ve found music is one of the best ways to learn how to feel.

To the right is a list of songs I’ve compiled (no particular genres, in no particular order) that I like to listen to during my long walks from door to door.

“Simple Times” by Kacey Musgraves

Often when we are in this “in between” space, we look to either the past or the future for comfort. Musgraves captures this yearning in this song off her latest album, “Star Crossed.” “Simple Times” embodies the longing every young adult feels at some point when they realize their childhood is over. Nostalgia can be a conflicting feeling, especially if you’ve spent your past dreaming of the future. Musgraves expresses grief for the days behind her with relatable lyrics that reminisce on the things she took for granted as a kid.

“Work Out” by Rainbow Kitten Surprise

This entire list could be Rainbow Kitten Surprise songs as they are so articulate and emotionally raw in all of their songs. “Work Out” specifically expresses feelings of brokenness and abandonment. When someone close to us lies, it can leave the ground feeling shaky and make you question not only them but yourself. Healing only follows hurt so closely, and this song is about the space separating the two.

“Out of Habit” by Ani DiFranco

The first time I heard this song, I felt DiFranco understood me better than I did myself. At its core, “Out of Habit” isn’t a song about going through the motions, but getting stuck in them. When one day blends into the next, it can be hard to see the open door at the end of the hallway. Even at her most existential, DiFranco holds onto hope by creating art even when it seems meaningless.

“Not the Man” by The Growlers

Uncertainty breeds anxiety, especially when that uncertainty is in regard to what is happening or what will happen. “Not the Man” by The Growlers illustrates what it is like to not be able to recognize yourself. People are always changing in ways big and small: We get new jobs, end long relationships, dye our hair, move across the country. This song is about the feeling of insecurity and panic that follows significant life changes and poses an important question – who is looking back at me from the mirror?

“Sending Postcards from a Plane Crash (Wish You Were Here)” by Fall Out Boy

Early 2000s Fall Out Boy rarely missed. Their angsty and poetic lyrics have helped me process emotions I couldn’t understand since I was 13, but “Sending Postcards from a Plane Crash” struck a new chord in me recently. Sometimes when a door closes, it is at the hands of someone else. This song is a letter to that person who wronged you and left you wandering the halls.

“You’ve Got Your Whole Life Ahead Of You Baby” by IDER

IDER wrote this song for any twentysomething caught up in rethinking the past and worrying about the future. Both regrets and dreams can obscure the present if you give them too much credit. This song is about losing yourself to the expectations of others and your longing to be in a different place and at a different time.

“If I Ever Feel Better” by Phoenix

The first line of this song is, “They say an end can be a start,” so it is probably the most on-theme song on the list. “If I Ever Feel Better” is about seeing an open door ahead, but not being able to move your feet forward. When you’re stuck in place, it’s easy to feel out of control. Phoenix represents this struggle with thoughtful metaphors and hopeful sentiments, reminding the listener that strife isn’t permanent.

“7” by Catfish and the Bottlemen

This song is set apart from the rest of the list because it is about thrusting yourself into the in-between rather than landing there unintentionally. The narrative explains that sometimes the best thing you can do for yourself is a step into the hallway, even if you love the door you closed behind you. It is hard to make these decisions for ourselves, especially when we are comfortable where we are, but comfort does not breed growth.

“Cigarettes” by Tash Sultana

Unlike Phoenix, Tash Sultana is comfortable in the hallway. In “Cigarettes,” she is using her time between doors to reflect on her thoughts and beliefs as well as those of others. Sultana views these uncertain times as a gift as she kicks back and waits for the next good thing to come her way. I am striving towards this mentality as I approach graduation.

“What’s Up?” by 4 Non Blondes

The 4 Non Blondes blessed us all when they released “What’s Up” in 1993. This song is the anthem for anyone who doesn’t know what they are doing. It is about trying and failing and trying again. It is about questioning yourself and the world around you. It is about the Sisyphean struggle that is growing up and doing better. Maybe one day we will have the answer to what’s going on, maybe we won’t. The value lies in the self-discovery that occurs while walking from door-to-door.7

Through Phases of Existence

Revival exists at every juncture of our lives

THE FIRST ARCHIVE OF MY TWENTIES VS HIS LAST

WHAT I LEARNED FROM RM’S “INDIGO”

Words by: Ashley Coleman

Design by: Austin Nguyen

Kim Namjoon gifted me the best 20th birthday present. Though, the present arrived about four months before I turned 20. And it wasn’t gifted to me so much as shared with the entire world. In fact, Kim Namjoon has no idea I exist. But the release of his debut album happened during such a pivotal stage in my life that I like to pretend it was somehow meant for me.

On Dec. 2nd, 2022, South Korean rapper Kim Namjoon — also known as RM, leader of global K-Pop sensation BTS — graced music listeners with his highly anticipated full-length solo album “Indigo.” The 10-track project serves as what RM calls “the last archive of [his] 20s,” an homage to everything he’s learned over the past ten years, representing the completion of one chapter before beginning another.

At the same time, I am also beginning a new chapter. Writing what feels like the first archive of my 20s, an homage to everything I hope will guide me over these next ten years. And with “Indigo” providing insights garnered from RM’s adulthood, it only feels right to note what is shared so that it may aid me while I navigate mine.

Note #1: “Be Human First. Forget The Art. Play And Feel the Joys and Sorrows.” (translated)

What He Says:

RM opens “Indigo” with the introspective “Yun,” a mellow R&B track featuring neo-soul legend Erykah Badu. The song is inspired by and named after the late Yun Hyong-Keun, a prolific South Korean painter who emphasized the importance of prioritizing humanity over artistry. RM echoes this sentiment, expressing his desire to “be a human ‘fore I do some art.” In other words, RM uses “Yun” to convey that only through knowing yourself and living life will you then be able to create something meaningful.

What I Learned:

The more artistic endeavors I take on, like writing or dancing, the more imposter syndrome sets in, making it easy to obsess over the technical skills I lack rather than focusing on what drives me to create. But RM poses a vital question: “What is it with the techniques? What is it with the skills? What is it with all the words? In your lyrics that you can’t feel?” Essentially asking, what good is art if it lacks the honesty of human emotion— even if the artist executes it with flawless technique? Because the thing is this: technique and skill are replicable. But human emotion is not. And only the latter brings art true meaning, something I hope will stick with me in all I create going forward.

Note #2: “Things Change. People Change. Everything Change.”

What He Says:

RM doesn’t hold back in the experimental “Change Pt. 2.” Characterized by its distorted, electronic beat and blunt lyrics, this song emphasizes how everything around us is subject to change — ourselves included; it’s just the way life goes.

What I Learned:

It’s crucial to remember that “Change Pt. 2” is not only about acknowledging change but also about accepting it. As the track ends, its initial abrasive beat transitions into a soft, content piano, mimicking how frustrating change can be before we make peace with it all. With a runtime of one minute and 54 seconds, “Change Pt. 2” is the shortest track on “Indigo.” But something about its brevity feels fitting: as if RM wants to remind us change doesn’t come with explanation. And though my 20s will be a time when change is inevitable, only through recognizing and accepting it will I be able to grow.

Note #3: “Don’t Look Back No More.”

What He Says:

RM ends his album on a comforting note, leaving listeners with his and singer Park Ji-Yoon’s wise words on a track titled “No. 2.” In it, they remind us how pointless dwelling on an unchangeable past can be when a malleable future lies ahead, waiting for us to take control of it.

What I Learned: Your 20s (and all of life, for that matter) will be a time when mistakes are inevitable, and regret will come. So find peace in the fact that you did the best you could. And aim to make the most of a redeemable future– that’s what truly matters.

Note #4: “Trendsetter? I’m A Friend, Better.”

What He Says:

Rather than dedicating one song to highlighting the importance of companionship, RM implies it, with 8 out of the ten songs on “Indigo” featuring collaborators who not only helped define RM’s 20s, but also helped enrich the messages he wanted to convey in this album.

What I Learned:

The hardest thing I’ve ever had to do is ask for help, especially since I’ve become so accustomed to figuring things out myself. But, through “Indigo,” RM reminds me that, just as we didn’t enter this world on our own, neither do we have to navigate it that way. One of the best things we can do is open up and let others in, allowing ourselves to become mosaics of the ones we love, which, in turn, will enrich the life experiences we have.7

Walk Do

Within only a year, my outlook on life as an emerging adult met several turning points. From reaching peak college core – rushing from class to meeting to work to party – to witnessing the society-shattering, dehumanizing landmark decision at our nation’s capital in June, to turning 21 and moving across the world to London, I struggled to find that significant step that marked the transition from kid to adult. A year ago, I searched for the meaning of independence and freedom. Now, I finally feel like I found my sense of agency. Finding that in the most paradoxical way, adulthood isn’t about the independence we are given, but our ability to control ourselves despite the insecurity of adulthood.

Like many of you, I spent my time in high school constantly working to get out from under the weight of the college application process. We absentmindedly allowed ourselves to live in a cycle of all-nighters and depressingly long days, motivated by the idea of some light at the end of the tunnel – a happier, freer and more satisfying college experience. In the time we leave for college, yearning for a kind of boundless, liberating independence and the discovery of our purpose, things take a turn: I’m sure you remember the time-freeing (and often boring) pandemic that forced students to slow down. To live like we had time because, well, we did.

For a few years, we got to explore who we were outside our routines and social lives, and even got used to the idea of choosing what we do in a day. Then, before we knew it, all aspects of our lives resumed their regularly scheduled programming. With in-person classes and work, and a re-upping of expectations for wild personal success after what felt like years of surviving instead of thriving, we’ve been thrown back into the deep end, chugging ahead at full force. Suddenly, classes have more weight, social scenes are bursting and somewhere in between, we find ourselves feeling not only overwhelmed but crushed under the weight of mandated overperformance – similar to life pre-pandemic. If there was a mind-blowing Aritzia sale (as if) or Harry Styles was in a coffee shop in Austin, I’d scream “RUN, DON’T WALK!” Our college lifestyle, on the other hand, is not a scenario in which I’d say the same. Perpetuated by social media, peers and authority figures, our “grind” culture has ingrained in us this idea that we must do everything and be everywhere because we now know the very real potential of having our lives cut short, out of nowhere. But looking back, was “the hustle” we experienced pre-pandemic worth the sleepless nights and crippling anxiety? If it wasn’t healthy then, it definitely isn’t now. But, then, that begs the question of, what’s different now? What’s changed?

n’t Run

Words by: Sarah Xu

Design by: Karis Tsao

What hasn’t changed? Within the last few years, members of our age group have all experienced an intense amount of change – high school graduation, new college experiences, navigating newfound independence, life-changing socio-political events, becoming a legal adult, considering post-grad life for the first time, etc. Like damn, that’s a lot.

Our lives have changed drastically, and we have innately grown into ourselves. While time doesn’t stop for anybody, the stages of our lives are a marathon, not a sprint. And as a fellow overachiever and hustler, hear me say, the “success” that is born out of anxiety and unhappiness is not what we desired as wide-eyed high school graduates, and it is not what adulthood “just is.” If this life is not what you had imagined as “independent and free”, what you’re missing may just be the core of what finding agency means – living life in full control instead of letting life happen to you, around you.

The pandemic happened to us. Losing rights to our female bodies happened to us. The state of our economy happened to us. Your stress-inducing, unfulfilling lifestyle is something that you let happen to you.

We all have excuses that could justify this lifestyle: grades, expectations, ambition… But we so easily get bogged down in these excuses and lose sight of what our present looks like. What I failed to realize

until I found space and a lot of distance (like 5,000 miles of distance from London) was that finding my sense of agency is what leads to true independence and freedom. Life is constantly changing, and as an adult, it happens at a faster rate than we’re used to. No two months look alike and certainly the same can be said of years. But the fear of change and uncertainty makes us fall back into old, young habits that we default to in fight or flight. Those habits, though, act as roadblocks to what we could achieve as we grow out of younger life stages. Don’t let what’s controlled your past dictate how you should be navigating your present and future. Unlearning the cycle of habits and conditioning from high school needs to be a conscious effort when entering adulthood, starting from college. Grades don’t control you, status doesn’t control you, people don’t control you. You have all the control, you have all the power – you just need to find it in yourself.

The control and ultimate stability we believe adulthood offers won’t just come to you as time passes, you have to seek it and make space for it. It’s time to play the long game. Look at the big picture. People love to tell us to “Embrace the hustle. Embrace the struggle.” Well, I’m done embracing what comes at me – I’m in control now. I’m in the driver’s seat on my journey to success. 7

Words by: Maria Probert Hermosillo

Design by: Grace Xu

We’ve all heard about it: the Midlife Crisis, that terrible and cringeworthy storm that upended your neighbor, high school friend’s grandparent’s or aunt’s life. They went from being a highschool teacher to a hippie surfer living in Australia out of nowhere. Yet, for how relatively common these occurrences are—or aren’t do we really understand why they happen, who they target, and if they are even a thing at all…? And if it is not an actual problem, then are we the ones to blame for judging different life choices?

I will try my best to break down this contentious subject.

So, what exactly is a Midlife Crisis?

According to the American Psychological Association, a “midlife crisis” is a psychological stress event that occurs during this period, which is between 35 and 65 years of age. Since there is no empirical evidence to support this phenomenon, many professionals consider a crisis like this a “myth.” I even reached out to University of Texas at Austin professors who gave me resources that mostly disprove that this phenomenon exists.

Why do they happen?

These are some of the possible stressors involved in an event like this occurring:

ɕ Loved ones passing away

ɕ Divorce rates being higher at that age

ɕ Socioeconomic status

ɕ Gender roles reversal/change

ɕ Career choices

ɕ Perceptual speed of surroundings and situations

ɕ Identity

ɕ Life changes

The main thing to keep in mind is that people typically face several combinations of these stressors during this period of their life, for which they are entirely in charge of facing and overcoming. These adults might also keep these problems mostly to themselves, which causes breaking points. That isn’t to say that when you’re young, you don’t have stressors, but the severity and weight of them are likely less intense during youth compared to the midlife period. Also, our generation might experience this less, because we are more inclined than past generations to seek help and talk about our problems with others. Prioritizing mental health is more accepted now, and that might still be a hard subject for midlife people to deal with.

Are

they inherently good or bad?

It depends on the situation. Is reinventing yourself bad? Or is it just a response to our ever-changing world, and how we identify within it? I refuse to believe that I’m the same person I was five years ago, so I doubt my future self would want to be how I am now. If whoever is going through a “midlife crisis” is satisfied with their life, then that shouldn’t be a bad thing. However, I think it’s fair to draw a line between exploring new things in a way that is good for yourself and doing so in a way that hurts others selfishly. For example, I think that it’s fair to ask parents to be there for their children, if their midlife crisis is getting in the way of their ability to take care of their kids. There are ways of owning up to the responsibility that you have for others while still taking care of yourself.

What does this experience fall into?

I am taking this question as an opportunity to talk about Taylor Swift and the whole concept of personal eras. Let me explain: When it comes to Swift’s music, every album is a new concept, style and a stand-alone moment. Apply that to a person’s life and the term “eras” can define different moments.

Is middle school an era? Is your vintage obsession an era? It’s up to you to decide, but I think that any big life change can be just like a “1989” or “Red” moment. Everybody should be allowed to celebrate their “eras.”

My obsession with the term “meninist” first started in middle school. The baffling irony of the term

What does it say about aging and judgment?

In general, we’re overly judgemental to the middle age population. If someone is doing something for their own benefit without stepping on or taking advantage of others, then is a “midlife crisis” really worth worrying about? Do we really need to care if someone’s life projection is drastically different from our own?

struck me: A men’s rights movement, its ideology centered on dismantling feminine progress. Even as a preteen, I wanted to try to understand why it resonated with people. Did men really feel disenfranchised as a direct result of being men? Did seeing women and feminine people being treated more like them make them feel less important? Was it something else that completely eluded me? I wondered how many men around me saw themselves as more human than I was.

We don’t think twice when a 12-year-old changes their personality from one day to the next, so why is it a big deal if a 65 year old does it? If when you think about the future you are scared of monotony, then think twice before judging, untangle the societal conditioning that is blocking your vision, and celebrate what is good.

I don’t remember when I first heard the term “manosphere,” but I know it made me laugh. If you are unfamiliar with the manosphere, or your mind hasn’t been corrupted by depraved, insular online communities, it is essentially a conglomerate term used to describe a number of niche men’s rights groups, including but not limited to involuntary celibates, pick-up artists and Men Going Their Own Way.

Even as a pre-teen, the outcry of these groups was omnipresent. The themes and ideals of each community can vary, but most are contingent on a core belief that masculinity is in a state of disrepair because of women and the evolving role of femininity today. It seems like oftentimes young boys stumble into these communities while seeking an antidote to their existential dread.

Is it real?

Probably not – at least not empirically, or in the professional sense. That being said, certain stressors can be more common at that time in life, and can lead to a change in identity or lifestyle. Since I am not in this age category, I want to include an excerpt from Sian Morgan’s article published in Globe & Mail titled, “More Than A Midlife Crisis; First Person” about her eyeopening experience dyeing her hair green at 50 years old. “Dyeing my hair turquoise was as much to do with forcing myself to be visible as it was to force others to see me. In the face of social pressures, it is sometimes easier just to fade away. But there is no chance of disappearing when your hair is green.”

So be the “era,” or person you want to be, when you want to be. 7

And just for clarification, it’s not that I don’t think there are areas in which men are overlooked structurally. I am aware of the fact that men are less likely to win custody of their kids in divorce court, men are more likely to take on grueling physical labor to earn an income, men often don’t have a healthy vehicle to realize or express their emotions, and worst of all, men are almost four times more likely to end their own lives than women. I do not deny that men suffer in their own unique ways, but these communities typically do not seek out meaningful progress for these issues. They sim ply invoke misogyny to explain away their misfortunes.

multitude of issues specific to my femininity but recognize that the fault for my suffer ing isn’t in the hands of men as a whole but instead wo ven into the structure of our world. If you are a man feeling dis gruntled with your life – may be you’re working a physically demanding job and still struggling to make ends meet, maybe you’re in a relationship

Words by: Hannah Heckman Design by: Kendall Quick

My first memory is her chubby little fingers stroking my head. It’s been a long time since she touched me like that, but she still cradles me against her chest every night while she sleeps. When she squeezes especially tight, I know it has been a bad day. Years of bad days have left me thinner in the middle, stuffing migrating to my head and feet.

I can’t sit up on my own anymore, so she props me up on her softest pillow before leaving for the day. I like the view from my perch. When the sun is low enough to shine through the window onto my face, I know she will be home soon. Every now and then it gets dark and all I can do is wait and worry. She always comes home, though.

I would run to her when she opens the door if I could, but I wait for her to scoop me up. All I can do is wait. Sometimes she doesn’t even look at me until bedtime. Sometimes she tosses me to the side to make space for a guest. I wish she knew I look forward to her touch all day.

Laying on the couch or even the floor is better than being stuffed away in a duffle. When we were away from home and sleeping in tents or bunk beds, no one else had a friend like me. She was embarrassed and would wait to rescue me until everyone was asleep. I’m glad she brought me along though. There aren’t many nights I sleep alone – she brings me with her when she can.

I am relieved because I don’t think she is ashamed of needing me anymore. I’ve even heard her say my name while talking to her friends. She says, “Teddy has been with me through everything.” Some of them smile, some of them scoff. I don’t usually see the ones that scoff ever again.

I’ve come to recognize a few faces that come around often. I guess these are the people she likes. I feel like something went wrong when I haven’t seen one of them for a while. Some I will see later, and some don’t

ever come back. She cries for them and lifts me to her face to wipe her tears.

There haven’t been any tears lately, but there are tight squeezes every night. Other than that, I have no reason to believe anything is wrong, but I know her. Dry eyes can be worse than wet ones, especially when I hear her solemn phone calls to her Mama back home.

I remember our home and I miss it. We lived there for as long as I can remember before moving here. I love when we visit; I love the warmth from the fireplace and watching the snow fall from my cozy seat on the bed. I love how she was happy there and held me tight anyways.

I’m not sure where we are now, but it never snows here. She calls it home and we’ve been here long enough for her to believe it. I guess I do too, we’re comfortable. Wherever we go she will figure it out. For now, I have found delight in watching the flowering trees bloom and the occasional window visit from the outdoor cats that live here.

We wouldn’t be staying here for much longer. At first, her tears were my only hint of our upcoming move, but it wasn’t long before she started packing her things. I’m not worried about leaving this place, but I can tell from her stiff posture at night that she is.

Soon she was moving furniture out of her apartment and never bringing it back, her bookshelf for one. The books are stacked against the wall. The duffle I had been zipped in once upon a time now holds all the pairs of shoes she hadn’t worn in months. I watch as she gently unsticks the posters she so painstakingly hung up a few years ago. Strangers come and go to take away her desk, bed frame and the clothes rack that held her t-shirt collection. She holds me tight these nights and tells herself it will be okay. 7

Words by: Prisha Arora

Design by: Melanie Faz

In the days leading up to my 20th birthday, I couldn’t stop crying. My dad, after catching me one day, tried to get me to explain why – I didn’t even know where to begin. The truth was, I didn’t know why I was so upset. Taking place during peak holiday season, right between Christmas and New Year’s, my birthday wasn’t generally that big of a deal to me. Something about 20 felt big, though: a milestone, a turning point at which to let go of the past and begin again.

The idea of growing older always gave me a sense of hope. Birthdays were a way to force myself to look forward, rather than obsess over the past. It was a day to celebrate that I’d made it that far. Turning 18 felt so far away when I was 13.

And so, that’s what I expected to feel when I turned 20 — excitement and wonder. I was entering what, to me, truly began adulthood: My twenties.

But that wasn’t what I felt. Instead, I felt heavy; my teenage years had been so deeply marked by anxieties, bad friendships and regrets, so what made me think the next decade would be any different? Would I really be happier in five years with more bills and a nine-tofive? Wouldn’t I rather stay young forever?

I had fallen for the myths of our youth-obsessed culture. We’re told growing up that “high school and college will be the best days of your lives,” and after that, it’s hopeless, and we’re doomed to become old, boring and ugly. The old evil queen, cruel and hideous, stands in jealous opposition to the young princess, beautiful and pure. Time and time again, the hag serves as the

movie villain, confronting the audience with their worst fear: Turning gray, wrinkled and sexless. This fear is getting worse, and by no accident. Much like how razor companies saw an opportunity in the early 20th century to sell more shaving products by peddling insecurities about body hair to women, there are millions to be gained from our race against wrinkles.

As reported by Statista, in 2021, the global anti-aging market was estimated to be worth about $62.6 billion, and by 2027, it’s estimated to reach $93 billion. Younger people are increasingly reaching for anti-aging products and treatments, with the percentage of U.S. women between 18 and 24 who considered anti-aging skin care to be important rising from 20% to 50% between 2013 and 2018. According to the American Society of Plastic Surgeons, “preventative Botox,” a product that promises consumers that it’ll put a pause on their aging process, has increased 28% since 2010 amongst 20-yearolds.

Skincare and beauty brands are actively seeking out younger demographics, recognizing teenagers, so easily dominated by their insecurities and desires, as perfect prey. In 2020, skin care brand Murad reached out to high school age influencers to promote their rejuvenating serums on Instagram.

Brands pushing an anti-aging agenda onto us for the sake of profit is obviously a major source of societal anxiety about aging, but it’s propagated even further by social media. Skincare is just a basic form of self care, haven’t you heard? If you aren’t double cleansing and using a retinol, vitamin C, eye cream, three serums, hyaluronic acid, a moisturizer, an oil and a full tablespoon of sunscreen reapplied every two hours on your face, are you even taking care of yourself? Here’s this straw you can use to avoid giving yourself wrinkles, and here’s where you can get botox for those lines you got from smiling too much.

Not to mention, aging represents a moral failing, too; your “unproblematic faves” are aging with grace while the canceled ones are getting karmic retribution in the form of sagging skin.

The worst part of it all is that the search for the fountain of youth is a futile one, and we’re setting ourselves up for failure. No amount of treatments or products will stop us from aging – it’s an unattainable goal. In conflating aging with a loss in beauty and vitality, rather than wisdom and life experience, we focus all our energy on a nostalgia-driven dream of who we once were and

rob ourselves from looking towards the people we want to become and of experiencing every version of ourselves.

That’s what this quest for escaping aging comes down to. Our society is currently characterized by cynicism, and that hopelessness has translated into a desire to stop time and wish we didn’t have to face the future. But what if the future is good? At 30, I hope I’ve lived a life worthy of not looking back and wishing I was 20, so why should I want my face to be stuck there? Could you have imagined at 12 the simple pleasures of adulthood, of buying fruit you’ve never tried at the grocery store, of making pancakes for dinner, of going on late night drives, just because you can? Why try to stop a future you don’t even know anything about yet?

Cynicism, it seems, benefits only those who seek to exploit you. In giving up hope for the world, for your future, for yourself, you only succeed in providing yourself with a seemingly endless and inescapable dread. It’s said people can’t get better unless they want to get better, and in that same vein, I don’t believe you can find contentment without having any hope that you ever will. 7

In Our Cultural Life Cycle

Revival propels expression

In Defense of Taylor Swift’s Reputation In

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Words by: Ashley Coleman

Design by: Hope Gullatt

Gen Z’s tendency to assign certain names and aesthetics to transitional periods in their lives is, well, certainly an interesting one. Scroll through TikTok, and you will encounter people who have entered their “cottage -core” era, their “clean girl” era – you name it. But the one that confuses me most is what some refer to as their “reputation” era.

The term is a nod to mega pop star Taylor Swift’s sixth studio album, “Reputation,” the first album she released after a year-long lapse from the public eye, taken after receiving overwhelming amounts of scrutiny from media and consumers alike. To enter your “reputation” era is to undergo a stage of life where revenge takes priority; it is synonymous with vengeance. Or, at least, that’s what the internet will have you believe.

Another scroll through TikTok will show you there are “rules” to a successful “reputation” era. Disappear from social media. Keep to yourself. Make a drastic change to your appearance. And, most importantly, when you return to the public’s eye, take no prisoners. LET THE RAGE DRIVE YOU.

To be fair, I understand what these “rules” are rooted in and how they came to be. No one can forget the album’s lead single, “Look What You Made Me Do.” This explosive return to music boldly places blame on listeners, directing them to “look what YOU made me

do.” Reminding them of karma’s circular nature with lyrics like “maybe I got mine, but you’ll all get yours.” In other words, Swift let everyone know her return meant retaliation on all who wronged her.

At the same time, Swift’s newfound aesthetic was a dramatic departure: the bright, bubbly and innocent style of her “America’s Sweetheart” persona replaced by the snake imagery and black sparkles of “Reputation” and its overarching attitude that tended towards the unforgiving. And if you take what Swift gave the world at face value, it’s easy to allow the single and aesthetics to speak for the entirety of her “Reputation” album. But Swift has never been an “at face value” artist; rather, every one of her creations has nuance and layers, this album being no different. The vengeful surface of “Reputation” underpins its driving theme: finding love amidst chaos. Sure, the album may have tracks like “Look What You Made Me Do” or “I Did Something Bad,” which work together to convey seeking revenge and how satisfying the initial thought is. But that’s where “Reputation’s” vengeful nature begins and ends, as a new infatuation in the giddy track “Gorgeous” catches her eye. Songs like “Dress” and “So It Goes…” take listeners along the journey as Swift’s infatuation becomes a fling, lyrics like “only bought this dress so you could take it off” and “getting caught up in a moment, lipstick on your

face” tapping into the sensual side of things. But in “Delicate,” it begins to click for Swift that perhaps she’s found something more than a fling – but a lover who, despite the fact her “reputation’s never been worse,” likes her for her.

As the relationship blossoms, Swift uses tracks like “...Ready For It?,” “End Game” and “Getaway Car” to represent finding her partner-in-crime when it was more beneficial to be against her than with her. And it’s in “Don’t Blame Me,” “King of My Heart” and “Call It What You Want” where Swift unabashedly professes her love.

The tongue-in-cheek “This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things” circles back one last time to those who ostracized Swift, her dismissing them and acknowledging who truly matters in lyrics like “Here’s a toast to my real friends. They don’t care about the he-said, she-said. And here’s to my baby. He ain’t reading what they call me lately. And here’s to my mama. Had to listen to all this drama.” And in the best way possible, Swift concludes the album with “New Year’s Day,” an insightful track that sees the past as a necessary period of growth and looks to the future as a promising new beginning with the ones she loves, regardless of outside opinions.

So, while yes, themes of revenge are present in this album, it’s not the only one that exists. More so, Swift uses the theme of revenge to recount her journey of finding love and light amid hate and darkness. She leads with revenge because it’s a common feeling. It’s often the first thing we want to resort to when we’ve been wronged. But rarely does anyone discuss how those feelings fade when you make peace with the situation at hand. And that seems to be what Swift set out to capture with “Reputation.” Acknowledging the rage while also sharing her journey of love that got her to where she is today. When you feel confident in yourself and content with the people around you, indifferent to the opinions of others, well, perhaps that’s the best revenge one can get. 7

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Student and Musician: Cassie’s Delicate Balancing Act

Words by: Sandhya Maddali

Design by: Avery Fox

A musician, known simply as “Cassie,” walks confidently up to the mic, acoustic guitar in hand. She addresses the audience with ease as she starts to strum her guitar. She begins her set with a catchy pop tune, smiling between lines and engaging her audience throughout her performance with her natural charm.

“[Taylor Swift] released “Tim McGraw” in 2008. I was six years old, and I was just like ‘That’s what I want to do,’” musician Cassandra Aquino said. “I asked for a guitar for six years, and I didn’t start until I was 12, which is when I got my first guitar.”

Aquino said she has always felt this pull toward music, but as she grew older the need for a back-up plan became apparent. Being a musician is not always the most stable source of income, Aquino explained, so she makes the effort to dedicate time to both her art and education. As a communication studies major at the University of Texas at Austin, Aquino said she finds herself occasionally struggling to strike an equal balance between her two worlds.

“I know that Austin is where I’m meant to be. I feel like this is the place I should be in right now,” Aquino said, “But the workload is very intense.”

Aquino grew up on the Beach Boys in coastal California. She started writing songs at a young age and would often ask her parents how to spell words that she didn’t know but wanted to include. She said this dream of becoming a musician began early and stuck as she grew older.

“It wasn’t until eighth grade, when they started talking about STEM majors, that I was like, wait, Taylor Swift isn’t a job description? I can’t just sign up to be Taylor Swift?” Aquino said.

It was in high school that she first began working with her music teacher, Vincent Martini. Martini met Aquino in eighth grade when she set her sights on auditioning for an upper-level guitar class. She’d only wanted to skip the beginner level, but her audition went so well that Martini recommended her for the most advanced course.

“As a ninth grader, that’s rare. I put her in those classes with pretty much 80% seniors,” Martini said.

In high school, Aquino flourished musically. Martini described her as a “musical soul,” recounting how immersed she was in her classes and how she always elevated the skill level of the people around her.

“Cassie is the kind of student that, when she’s in a project with another group of people, she would really bring those people up,” said Martini. “All of a sudden, all of those other musicians are blossoming and flourishing because of someone like Cassie, who is able to put together songs really well.”

The strong music program at her high school gave her the opportunity to explore songwriting and arranging music in a significant way, Martini said. Because she was able to immerse herself in music daily through the class, she kept the musical flame alive throughout high school.

In college, Aquino continues to pursue music. This year, she transferred to the University of Texas and approached Austin-based producer Scott Graham to help her rework a song. From there, they grew closer, both personally and professionally. Aquino recently put out an extended play this past May, which Graham produced. He said they took two days to put together all four songs.

“I was really blown away by her songwriting at her age, and her use of chords,” Graham said. “She’s able to write really cool melodies around it, that I feel are very catchy.”

Graham has worked with a variety of artists. Some offer minimal input during the production process, but he said Aquino is quite involved in creating her own music.

“She writes all the lyrics, all the melodies for the most part, and then sends me like a thousand demos on her phone,” Graham said. “I get to sort through them all and kind of give her notes on each one.”

Though Graham is present to help move along production, it falls on Aquino to be her own lyricist, marketing specialist and manager. Austin holds the title of “Live Music Capital of the World,” making it an oversaturated market for small musicians. Though a bit of a competitive edge exists, Aquino said she has been lucky to find a network of mentors and peers to offer advice and support. However, according to Aquino, it can often be difficult to book gigs just due to the volume of people who are trying to do the same thing.

“I was such a bright, shining star in California

and Arizona, but coming to Austin, it’s pretty humbling,” Aquino said. “If there’s a song you’ve written, someone’s probably done something similar, but better, and they’re prettier and have more of a following.”

Aquino’s social media presence is an important part of her marketing strategy. One look at her TikTok page will reveal rows of short videos about upcoming releases and performances in various formats, ranging from skits to video compilations. Though Aquino said she doesn’t particularly enjoy making this sort of content, virality and success as a musician often go hand in hand.

“I don’t want to make cringey TikToks, but I have to,” Aquino said. “And I’m happy to do it if it’s for my music career.”

Being a fledgling musician is quite a task on its own, but Aquino also has to keep up with her role as a full-time student. It isn’t easy balancing the two, and she must pay close attention when scheduling gigs and recording sessions to make sure that she’s allotted enough time to study. Aquino’s close friend Susan Oberschmidt says that she finds ways to work music into study breaks and keep up with both school and music.

“Cassie does an admirable job of balancing her music and her schoolwork. When we take a ‘study break’ it mainly involves me continuing to work while she practices her songs,” Oberschmidt said. “It’s almost like live background music.”

There are times where Aquino has to miss class

to work on music, but she finds ways to stay organized, Oberschmidt said. She makes sure to manage her time very well and meticulously keeps a bullet journal to keep track of everything.

“If anything, Cassie would put studying first over practicing a new song,” Oberschmidt said. “She is exceptionally well-organized, and I have never heard her complain about not having enough time to complete something she had set her mind to.”

Though the workload can get overwhelming, Aquino approaches it with a positive mindset.

“Musicians, we’re gluttons for punishment,” Aquino said, “Because at the end of it, I can always just use it for my music. If life’s hit me hard, I can at least put it into words.”

Aquino’s backup plan is to work in social media marketing, but she doesn’t plan on using it without first giving music her all.

“With corporate America there’s a lot of pressure to fit yourself into a box, or a job title that’s standard,” Aquino said. “But it’s just something I’ve gotta do. I’ve gotta try it out and see if I make it.” 7

AnExploration on MusicalRenewal (andAlso I LoveYou)

Words by: Natalie H. Moses

Design by: Grace Xu

I don’t have the words to articulate what it means to love you, all I know is that my love is real in this universe, in the next universe, and every other universe a er that. Like when a beautiful song is sung over and over, each a li le different than the last, but the message is the same: I love you!! In each new iteration of every love song we sing, in each petal of every flower you send, in each universe we have the pleasure of existing. Take this playlist and know it to be true.

I Only Have Eyes For You

7 The Flamingos, Sunny and the Sunliners, Tashaki Miyaki

Across the Universe

7 The Beatles, Fiona Apple

Baby

7 Donnie & Joe Emerson, Ariel Pink

Harvest Moon

7 Neil Young, Sunflower Bean, Lord Huron

Something

7 The Beatles, Elvis Presley

Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want

7 The Smiths, The dream Academy, The De ones

Ooo Baby Baby

7 Smokey Robinson & The Miracles, Ella Fitzgerald, Ralfi Pagan

Bound

7 Ponderosa Twins Plus One, Dana and Alden

Mama, You’ve Been on My Mind

7 Bob Dylan, George Harrison, Jeff Buckley, Susan Tedeschi

I’m Not In Love

7 10CC, Kelsey Lu

Gypsy

7 Fleetwood Mac, Tiger Jaw

Heritage in hand-me-downs

Words by: Ethan Guidry

Photos by: Julia Williams

I used to care about the stains I would bear. Call it “presence” or lacking it, but there’s some aspect of enjoying a drink or stew to the extent that you disregard the risk of it spilling on your lap. Usually, my walk to campus yields the same experience. A quick stop at Lucky Lab leads me to my usual.

“I’ll take a quad shot of espresso with a splash of oat milk.”

I think that’s an excellent order – easy for the barista and efficient for my caffeine intake. They serve it to me in the most miniature cup possible, coffee inevitably leaking out a bit as I make my way to class. It’s always something about the lid not fitting correctly. My cuticles would be stained and smelling of coffee. Sometimes, drops would hit my shirt or pants.

But those coffee stains don’t mean much.

There’s some virtue in detaching from a material focus. Sure, some things just don’t wash out; but the sting of coffee stains feel different when they appear on my grandfather’s jacket.

A hardworking, blue-collar man from Louisiana, he supported my father through his academic career at the University of Texas at Austin in the 1980s. They had made an agreement when he was in middle school: he said, “Jon, if you make straight A’s from here on out, then I’ll find a way to pay for your bachelor’s.” He was a man of his word – all I ever heard about him was of his honor, hard work and perseverance through life.

He was also a musician. He was also a farmer. He also had a temper. He had a few American made work jackets that I found in a box recently. He might like to see they’re in good shape.

But he died at 50, and I was born three years later. So it goes.

I never knew the man, and he never knew me. Above all, though, I doubt he ever considered that his Carhartt jacket might experience a second life after his departure. We never know when our time will come. But now, it hangs in my closet, and somehow, it fits me perfectly. There’s a sentiment behind this that is unique in our modern culture. Do we go for the cheapest bags and coats? Are they ethically produced? Will they last a full season?

Maybe it’s just about perspective. Maybe it’s just me, but I feel that there’s something virtuous in taking stock of our possessions and their sentimental value. While nothing good can come of materialism, there’s something human about it, too. We define our differences through our property, and when we exchange or gift things to another, we attach our energy to that thing.

There was no intention behind finding my grandfather’s old, worn-out Carhartt , no greater sentiment. He didn’t buy this for his grandson to wear – he didn’t even know he’d have one. But he lived his life in it and, in doing so, left behind an imprint on this material thing given to me years later. The way this jacket sits on my shoulders shows how he would slouch his shoulders, too. The way it still is in good enough condition to wear decades later makes it possible for me to understand these smaller components of his character.

My father would always tell me how his father would say, “Square your shoulders, Jon.” I try to do the same now on my walks to class. I pay homage to my ancestors when I wear their old hand-me-downs – it makes me consider them more often. My grandfather is with me as I dodge drops of coffee falling on the sleeves of his jacket. He’s with me when I’m in the cold, keeping me warm in some weird, spiritual way. I may have never known my grandfather, but I know that, through wearing his old jacket, my image of him lives on.

Owning this jacket has motivated me to spend more on things I consider as timeless when possible. We ought to care about the quality of our possessions for the right reasons, one being their endurance. Getting the cheapest bag or some fast-fashion outerwear prioritizes what is convenient now over what will last forever. I consider what my own kids will think of me someday if they find my old duffel bag and use it for a trip. What kind of impression will what we leave behind have on those left to sort through it? Will they cherish our old shirts and jackets?

How else will they remember us after we’re gone? 7

What’s Going on With Fashion Oversaturation?

Words by: Natalie H. Moses

For many young Americans, our evenings look a lot like this: We lay in bed after an incredibly long, tiring day of class, homework and fulfilling social obligations and try to find ways to still our restless little monkey brains.

And where do we turn on this quest for tranquility? Our silly little thumbs automatically gravitate towards those familiar icons on our screens, pulling up any app we can mindlessly scroll through in the name of decompression. Except, we’re not decompressing at all – scrolling just fulfills this subconscious need we’ve developed to be so overwhelmed with copious amounts of information that we can stop thinking about everything else.

Yes, we love to scroll, coming across dances and recipes and, if you’re anything like me, outfit inspiration. It’s incredible what the internet has done for personal fashion,

Design by: Elly Kong

whether it’s providing platforms for endless creativity or defining outlines for “aesthetics.”

But, what exactly is an aesthetic? That’s a great question! Aesthetics, simply put, is a broad term or set of guidelines for the expression of specific artistic movement, according to the “Oxford Languages.” And with the rise of the popular app TikTok came hyper-specific, or “microtrend” aesthetics that could be followed almost to a T. Our brains see 60 seconds of a random person wearing a beautiful outfit, and it imbeds us with such a sense of desire that we feel the need to imitate the look by collecting the exact same pieces.

Take, for example, #cottagecore. The trend has inspired more than 13.1 BILLION views from people wishing to perpetuate the idea that they (like the name suggests) live off in a cottage in the middle of the woods. Videos like these serve as indirect marketing to consumers: follow these looks piece for piece and give us all your money (maniacal laugh). People who wished to partake in the cottagecore aesthetic saw these videos filled with peasant blouses and mushroom purses and flowy skirts and the infamous Amazon corset, which would then translate into changes in their purchasing behaviors.

This phenomenon highlights an incredibly important realization that needs to be made to consumers, though: THERE IS A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN WHAT WE SEE ONLINE AND REAL LIFE. These #aesthetic videos can create serious disconnects between our understanding of what is realistic and aspirational, manifesting in feelings of personal inadequacy.

A cycle is created where the consumer is left in a constant state of want until they can mirror the content being force-fed to them. According to Nu Sci Magazine in their article “The Psychology Behind Trends,” this need to mirror trends can be traced to the need to feel “in” with peers whose opinions are revered. When you see your favorite fashion TikToker and Hollywood actor both wearing similar pieces, it suddenly seems like everyone around you is wearing the pieces too, making it a lot harder to resist the temptation to join. This continues until you don’t know where outside influences stop and personal style begins. An oversaturation of “aesthetics” and the incessant need to define them in others and identify with them ourselves creates unnecessary confusion.

Instead, media like Pinterest and TikTok should be used to collect inspiration across a variety of styles, not copied piece for piece, because if there’s one thing that’s apparent right now, it’s that trends come and go way too quickly to fully dedicate yourself to a single one. People considered “chronically online” (whether they know it or not) are incredibly likely to fall for the growing population of social media influencers. But, their influence moves between trends too quickly to allow for the development of the golden standard: Personal style. I struggle even now to recall relevant fast fashion trends, but I could tell you exactly what pieces belong in a timeless wardrobe – simple items that can be built upon to create more complex outfits. Regardless of whether someone’s personal style fluctuates between basic and extravagant, pieces that are sourced with intention are much more productive in terms of developing a personal style.

But, at the rate these trends develop, I seriously doubt they will decline into irrelevance any time soon. The solution for influencers? Ambiguity! Vagueness! Instead of fashion vloggers releasing their meticulouslytailored trend forecast alerts to the frantic masses at the beginning of every season, they could focus on a broader aspect of a style that still leaves room for creative liberty for those wishing to partake.

Reading “asymmetrical hems” on a forecast list leaves much more room for interpretation than “off-theshoulder black top that Kylie Jenner wore in her latest Instagram post.” However, it’s important to note that what is meaningful to one person may not be meaningful to the next, which is why it’s up to the consumer to remain conscious of their own purchasing behavior.

Someone may see platform loafers as vital to their identity, while another may lean towards a thin ballerina flat. If either of these consumers were to fall victim to the god-like inner workings of the algorithm and buy something opposite their taste just because they thought it was “in” or saw however many people wearing it, it’s a bajillion times more likely to collect dust in their closet once the trend cycle designates its next “must-have” item.

Collecting inspiration from online trends is okay, encouraged even – if you’re dedicated to figuring out how it works with your existing wardrobe. And, hopefully, once we as consumers realize that every single fad and style and aesthetic has been and will be trending, we can decide to forgo them altogether. We can live in a peaceful universe without fear of an aesthetic taking over society, or a looming micro trend; no checkerboard print or chunky plastic rings or the Maddy Perez black cut-out dress from “Euphoria” being smothered into our face. Just people wearing what they want, getting inspiration from each other without comment sections bordering on harassment full of “outfit details?” “Where is ____ from?” “Link?” Because nothing we wear will really matter anymore when the trend cycle gets so fast that it becomes eternal, when all aesthetics overlap that people just adopt “me-core.” We will be in harmony, silly little monkeys enjoying their silly little dress-up games. 7

Words by: Asiyah Jilani

Design by: Alexa Zimmermann

What goes around, comes around. Books are being adapted into movies, popular shows release remakes in other countries, and franchises from decades ago are being rebooted for the current generation. It’s a common phenomenon, but fascinating: today’s media landscape is now ridden with reboots and revivals.

The Redemptive

Let’s look at “Cobra Kai,” for example: Ralph Macchio returns, reprising the role of Daniel Larusso, this time father to one of the franchise’s main characters, Samantha Larusso. The narrative is flipped on its head, gifting characters from decades ago a redemptive arc. Johnny Lawrence, a bully in the original trilogy, is suddenly a protagonist, as we see him slowly rebuilding his life. This is the opportunity that reboots provide: the chance to breathe new life into established storylines.

In the original “Karate Kid” movies, the core female characters mainly serve as love interests; we don’t see them fighting in the dojo. In the first season of “Cobra Kai,” however, the second student to join the new “Cobra Kai” dojo is a girl, Aisha. In addition, Sam and Tory are two other female characters who make up a core part of the show. They are complex, fierce, passionate and display their own set of strengths and hurdles. Oftentimes, the subjects of karate and high school dramas remain a core part of the show, yet “Cobra Kai” made strides with the addition of female main characters.

“Pretty Little Liars” while it was on air, I found myself intrigued when “Original Sin” aired last summer.

The original PLL was a teen drama to the core, with romance, drama, friendship, betrayal and gossip driving the plot alongside thrilling twists and turns. “Original Sin,” on the other hand, takes a risky deviation from its predecessor, immersing itself fully into the horror genre. Canonical antagonist “A” is now a large, masked killer often shown lurking mere feet away from the girls. Carving its own path from its predecessor worked wonderfully, however, creating an exciting horror-drama that had viewers on the edge of their seat while garnering critical acclaim.

The Failure

The original “Gossip Girl,” running from 2007 to 2012, is hailed as one of the most iconic teen dramas. However, the reboot fell flat, showered with negative reviews. The final nail in the coffin was its cancellation after only two seasons, a pathetic runtime compared to the six-season span of the original.

What went wrong? How did a show with so much established momentum have such a failure of a reboot? After all, the reboot promised to correct some wrongdoings of the original.

For starters, the characters appeared to be much more aware of their actions than their predecessors. This premise seemed good in theory, but translated awkwardly in the reboot, as we see Julien and Zoya apologizing and hugging every other episode only to dip back into arguments, betrayal, and love triangles.

The original “Gossip Girl” proudly parades the cruel, callous natures of its characters, and it was this flagrant disregard that captured the attention of many. The reboot, on the other hand, showed the characters attempting to apologize and do right while still involving themselves in petty drama and scandals, making them come off as hypocritical and inauthentic.

If the original “Gossip Girl” was a product of its time, then maybe the failure of its reboot is a sign that not all older stories need to be re-told.

The Interpretive (And Intercontinental)

“SKAM” is one of the most unique examples of remakes, and my personal favorite. The 2015 Norwegian show was a huge hit online, taking social media sites by storm. After it finished, seven other countries, including America, “remade” the show – literally. The characters, relationships and plotlines that launched SKAM to popularity reemerged in each country’s remake.

While each version had the same storylines as the OG, it still felt like a whole new show. Told in its own language, with different costumes and settings, each interpretation had a unique feel. For example, the remake set in the Netherlands excelled with stunning cinematography and catchy music, while the dark coloring and dramatic dialogue of the French remake had me on the edge of my seat. The various remakes of “SKAM” show that, while so much of humankind shares the same struggles, the experiences that come with time and place are unique, and we should embrace cultural difference.

Some pieces of media are direct remakes, such as the various versions of “SKAM.” Others are revivals of their predecessors, such as “Gossip Girl” or “Cobra Kai.” Others are the

latest in long lines of media adaptations, such as the 2021 “Little Women” movie. As I zoom further and further out, however, I’ve realized that every piece of media, at its core, revives themes that have been portrayed before. Romance has always and will always exist in the media: older romcoms may show characters bumping into each other at a diner, while current shows might base these “meet-cutes” on Instagram. The ideas surrounding common themes and tropes are always changing, but the same principles endure. There is one original “SKAM,” and seven remakes, and yet, the story that SKAM tells – teenagers from various backgrounds embracing their identities while navigating high school – exists in so much of teen media. William Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet” is considered the gold standard for forbidden love stories, and so many modern day couples, such as John B and Sarah from “Outer Banks” or Calliope and Juliette from “First Kill,” explore the same idea: two people with completely different lives, brought together by romance as their families attempt to pull them apart.

When there are only so many themes and tropes that audiences enjoy, it is inevitable that directors will turn to older forms of media for inspiration. Sometimes, revivals perfectly touch on nostalgia while creating storylines that are unique enough to entertain audiences. Other times, attempts to adapt old stories to modern tastes fall flat.

Every generation has its own conceptions of love, style, relationships and culture, shared understandings reflected in the popular media of the time. Instead of clinging to the notion that the proverbial “good ‘ole days” must have been better, or trying to outdo what has been done before, it’s important to remember that each point in history is unique. Reboots, whether good or bad, serve as a reminder that the exact experiences of the past cannot be truly replicated; however, we can always build off of what was done before. It’s up to us to decide which stories are worth continuing or correcting. We can’t rewrite the past, we can only write the rest of our lives, so let’s embrace the now. 7

Creative Letter

In college, it can feel like you never know who you are. Every semester brings a new set of classes, people, and challenges that further mold and change you. After finishing off my second year in college, I find myself smack dab in the middle of this everchanging experience and can see the vast differences in who I was a year ago and who I will be in a year from now.

In this issue we wanted to capture the experience of revivals or renewals and all the different ways this can manifest. Narratives, how tos, and features all serve to tell our staff’s complex story. The creatives on our team took these words and brought them to life in an extraordinary way. By using butterflies as a motif symbolizing new beginnings and a calm color pallette we created a sense of fluidity and whimsy.

As I put the finishing touches on this zine, I am reminded of how proud I am of this staff and all the creative people who have worked on orange in the past. We have created a safe space for stories to be told and art to be felt. As this issue has beautifully illustrated the importance of new beginnings, I must, myself, move on to new horizons and take a revival of my own. I have loved every second of working on this team and I will always be grateful for this expereince.

As I leave you today, I urge you to fully embrace the change in your life and take setbacks in stride. There are beautiful, amazing things waiting for you. Let yourself be revived and carried into the next page of your life. 7