* LETTER FROM THE EDITOR *
TO WHOM THIS MAGAZINE REACHES.
LAST YEAR'S THEME FOR KATE WAS UTOPIA. IT WAS AVERY NICE ZINE IN WHICH WE ALL GOT TOGETHER AND THOUGHT ABOUT APERFECT WORLD WE MAY ONE DAY LIVE IN. SADLY. THE WORLD TODAY IS NOT PERFECT AND I'M PRETTY PISSED ABOUT IT. LEG ISLATION HAS TURNED ON US FORCING US OUT OF BATHROOMS AND LETTING OUR KILLERS RUN FREE. ALSO. AND I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH. PEOPLE ARE LITERALLY KILLING US. SO. WE CHOSE THIS YEAR'S THEME AS ANGER AND ACTIVISM TO REFLECT THESE NEW. TERRIFYING TIMES.
EXCEPT. TIMES HAVE ALWAYS BEEN TERRIFYING FOR US. IF YOU'RE NOT AWHITE. CIS. AND STRAIGHT THEN YOU MAY HAVE ALWAYS BEEN SCARED AND ANGRY. WE CHOSE THIS THEME FOR THIS YEAR BECAUSE WE SHOULD BE ANGRY ABOUT THIS. WE NEED TO LET OUR VOICES BE HEARD SINCE THEY ARE BEING SILENT CONSTANTLY. I HOPE WHOM EVER READS THIS BECOMES UNCOMFORTABLE. I HOPE THIS ANGER OPENS PEOPLE'S EYES TOOUR LIVED EXPERIENCES AND OUR EMOTIONS. I WANT SOME DISGUSTED FRAT BOY TOREAD THIS. PUT IT DOWN, AND CALL IT ·SJW BULLSHIT.·
I ALSO WANT THIS KATE TO ENCOURAGE PEOPLE. I WANT PEOPLE TO READ THIS AND REALIZE THEY ARE NOT ALONE. NOT ALONE IN THEIR IDENTITY AND NOT ALONE IN THEIR FEELINGS. I WANT THIS ZINE TO ENCOURAGE PEOPLE TO GO PUNCH ANAZI OR TWO. I WANT THIS ZINE TO INSPIRE WITH ANGER.
SINCERELY. ALLEN GOULD
KATE STAFF
lDITOR & THE REALMVP: AlllN GOULD
SPREADSHEETAFICIONADOS: lllY MANN & AMANDA IFANTllDlS
PAGl DlSIGNlR & TlCHNO WIZARD: LYDIA CRANNlll
OUR FEARLESSllADlR: TAMMY BIRK
THE LIFEFORCE
IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER:
MADII MOORE
CLAIRE LOBER
LIZ WELLS
JESSEHINTY
VIN KERSCHNER
KEN SIMPKINS
ARI LEWIS
RACHEL NITCHMAN
MARISSA DAVIS
VIOLA CONSTABLE
CLAIRE BUCHHOLZ
TABLI OF CONTINTS
KATE 2017 BY LILY MANN PG. 7
DO N'T FOLLOW THE RULESBY KYLIECARBOL: PG. a
THEYTRIED TO BURY US BY ANONYMOUS: PG. 9
MOVE FORWARD BY SAM BUGANSKI PG. 10
SOMETIMESOFFERING AHAND... BY CLAIRI BUCHHOLZ PG. 11
NEVERAPOLOGln FOR HOW YOU EXPRESSYOURSUF BY MADIEMOORE PG. 12
SHE/HERBY KEN SIMPKINS PG 13
ANOTHIR CAVE ALLIGORY BY ALLIN GOULD PG. 14
MULT I EYEDPERSON BY SAM BUGANSKI PG. 15
ASHORT STORY BY ARI LEWISPG. 16
I AM NOT LOST BY KEN SIMPKINS PG. 19
OCTOBER 1ST, 2016 BY SAM BUGANSKI PG. 20
ANG RY WITCH BY LIZ WELLS PG. 21
l' MANGRY... BY LILY MANN PG. 22
OULD YOU SAVE ADROWNING CHILD BY JORDAN GOLEN PG. 23
BEFORE WE CAN SAY BY KEN SIMPKINS PG. 24
RA GGING YOUR BODY BY ALUN GOULD PG. 25
DAY WITHOUT WOMEN BY R.I. PG. 26
IFYOU AREN'T ANGRY... BY CLAIR( BUBICK PG. 27
PUNCH ANAZI KEN SIMPKINS PG. 28
"WEDON'T CARE ABOUT BLACK TRANS PEOPLE"BY SAM BUGANSKI PG. 29
AND YETPEOPLESTILL ASK MEBY MADIEMOORl PG 30
HEIS TAKING OUR RIGHTS BY KEN SIMPKINS PG. 32
I WISH I DIDN'T HAVE TO SCRIAM... BY KAITLYN BECKETPG. 33
I WANT To SEESEE Ml As MEBY SAM BUGANSKI PG. 34
TRANS WOMEN ARE REAL WOMEN BY KEN SIMPKINS PG. 35
I DEEPLYBELONGTO MYSELF: ANGER BY R.I. PG. 36
DON'T FOLLOWTHERULES
DON 't get caught in their llogic
emoti ions re Spon se and i own my wrong with my an g er there is No thingfr u st ra ti o n
Another Cave Allegory
All I want to do is yell.You were the one that forced me into a box surrounded by a million and one others. That watch my every single movement to make sure I'm doing it right . Every e y e trained on me is a camera waiting in anticipation to push me out . To laugh at my misfortune at being outside.
So, here I sit outside of it all and I'm carving into a cliffside with my bare hands. My hand s are broken and bloody Fingernails have long fallen off. By the end of this I can see .bone\ And I • have created a cave for myself. It's shitty and full of raccoons but it is for me and everyone who was also pushed out by people like you.
Then you have the audacity to get mad at me. You cry how unfair it is that my dinky, little cave is warm unlike your cramped box that is burning. No, I will not let you in. You never wanted me so why should I want you. Why should I coddle you and tell you that it's ok, the raccoons don ' t bite? Why should I bother when you never tried for me?
This is where I belong because I made it a place where I belong. If you want to belong somewhere, go back to that box
As a growing fifth grade girl, I was excited to learn about what puberty had in store for me. According to the videotape, I would grow breasts on my chest and hair where I wear my underwear. When our bodies were ready, we would start having these things called "periods" every month or so Whenever that happens, we have_ to wear pads in the saddle of our panties so the blood doesn't go everywhere. At the conclusion of our fifth grade "talk" , all the fifth grade girls were gifted with a starter pack of toiletry supplies.
In sixth grade, it seemed as if every girl my age had breasts but me . Maybe I was what the grown-ups called a "late bloomer". Maybe I wasn't supposed to develop breasts in the first place.
I was eleven. I was playing outside with two of my neighbors. Both were girls. One was ten, the other, twelve. Both girls were going on and on about how big their breasts were and how their moms had to get them "real bras" now. I remained silent as my breast were nonexistent back then. The twelve -year- old girl turned to me and remarked on the fact that I was "flatchested". I spent ten minutes trying to prove to her that I wasn't, but she did nothing but laugh in my face. When I returned to my house that day, I stared at the sky aimlessly wondering when my breasts would come.
In a week's time, I began to feel two lumps on my chest. They were just as painful as they were exciting to feel. My mom went to the store and bought me two packs of training bras
to celebrate the occasion. I was to put one on for the day and take it off when I went to bed at night.
After six months or so, my breasts were becoming more noticeable. The training bras did nothing to minimize my cone-shaped breasts. I started begging my mother to buy me padded bras. She refused to because my breasts weren't big enough. But I beg to differ even to this day.
As a compromise, she bought me my first sports bra. I wore it almost every day. And at that time, it was the best thing the world ever invented.
Flash forward to freshman year (high school). My mom took me to Macy's to get fitted for the real bras. "32A," the bra-fitting lady said.
During the course of high school. I wore sports bras as often as I could. The only time I didn't wear a sports bra was when certain shirts weren't able to cover the straps. I started wearing big t-shirts and sweatshirts to minimize the appearance ofmy breasts. I was no longer comfortable with wearing clothing that made it obvious that I had them. My mom would periodically ask me why I did this. I couldn't tell her why because back then, I didn't know the answer.
As a Second Semester Senior, I discover my hatred for women's clothing. Many nights were spent crying over the fact that I was forced to wear clothing that didn't suit my personality. As menswear became more appealing, I found myself becoming jealous of the fact that the men wearing the clothes I wanted had the flat chest I no longer possessed .
My relationship with my chest is complicated. There are days where I am fine with having breasts and there are days where I want to chop them off and not have them at all . On days like the latter, I put on an oversized long-sleeved t-shirt with a sweatshirt (or a jacket) and
try to pretend like they are not there at all. I continue to look into top surgery even though I do not want it at all. I check out a website that sells quality chest binders, but won't buy one because
I don't have the $40 00 to buy one. I promise myself that I won't wear the binder every day when I get it because I am afraid that it will flatten my chest completely ifl wear it too much. Sometimes it is clear that the decision has been made as far as my chest goes. However , I still can't seem to make up my mind .
gender dysphoria- n. persistent feelings of anxiety and/or depression related to a person ' s biological anatomy, as it does not match their gender identity
After finding this term, it became crystal clear that I had been suffering for years and I didn't even know it
AND No one ,, ever change
Dragging Your Body
I am constantly moving forward
Just one small step in front of the other It's the one thing I'm good at It's the only thing I can do
And I can see you standing there In the distance waiting For me to finally make that milestone Only to push me back
I am tired
You never rest I have been beaten back before You are always the one doing the beating
This time I hit back
There is an outcry
Shock and rage
This is not how the story goes
I'm supposed to bow And beg to you
I'm supposed to wait for your grace
Your divine mercy
But instead here I am Punching you in the gut Clawing out your eyes I will move forward
With or without your permission
A Day Without Women
"Today I stand with women. My lungs burnand my vocal cords stings of the song of sisterhood. I am slowly learning how to heal the wounds kept deep inbones..my Like a wild flower I grow, unapologetically.
The caged birdsings, The caged bird sings the song of freedom. The caged bird would rather be Free.''
-R.I
"And
Yet People Still Ask Me"
By Madison Moore
As a young person I am often asked about my choices and decisions . What I want to do with my life
How I want to live
Last year when I came out as a feminist people were shocked .
As if I said I was going to eradicate life as they knew it. The answer is as simple as a child ' s bedtime story.
I believe in equality and justice
For some reason , that answer is not enough to quench the ir thirst.
Here is the answer to act as the ice cold water to quench your deep felt th i rst.
Here is my scream.
I am a feminist.
Through my childhood I was told by the media that my beauty of dark hair , brown eyes , and skin much darker than my caucasian friends was not true beauty
I watch my friends shrink , trying desperately not to gain weight as 13 teen year olds .
F ifth grade was the first time I remember hearing those dreaded words " I need to go on a diet" and " I' m too fat"
slip off the lips of a good friend duri ng lunch one day . No wonder looking back I too had prayed every night not to gain a single pound , an ounce.
I' ve spent too many years worrying about my body
I am too much of an expert of hiding the fat on my body
Feminism has taught me that my body is not the enemy . It has taught me about body positivity the ability to love oneself
In school I witness the ultimate crime committed
Coming to school dressed in a blue mini skirt and a white t-shirt.
A crime punishable by requiring a girl to lose her access to education .
A crime called a violation of the dress code
Yet not a single boy has lost their privilege to learn for the clothes on their back
As young girls these actions convey the message that our bodies do not belong to us .
We are mere objects , property to be owned
The only th i ng the girl in the mini sk i rt was ask ing for was respect and the opportunity to her human right to learn .
I am a feminist
We live in a society where we sexualize women and girls to a point where when they are attacked , we blame the victim and sympathize with the attacker Our boys grow up in a society of over masculinity that teaches an act of violence is just boys being boys They are dangerou s starved lions waiting to isolate us , to control us , to violate us .
One day I will have a daughter , a son, a ch ild.
I don 't w ant my child to live in a world that treats girls as second class citizens. I am a feminist bec ause some of you would respect my message more if it was coming out the mouth of my brother.
Feminism is the key to locked doors. Let's hold hands, brother an d sister alike , take back t he night demand equal pay for equal work end rape culture fi nish th e women' s movement once and for all.
Bew are, I am fearless I am powerful. I am a femini st This is my scream one that can only be heard if we decide to acknowledge it.
He is taking our rights. He is ta king our healthcare. He is taking our environmental protect ions. He is takingour safety.
He is drowning us
And all you can say is... . He mails
I Deeply Belong to Myself: Anger
By R.I.
Dear Mother ,
I will not shave my body ,
Remove the petals to my flower bed ,
My legs are hairy and beautiful , My armpits have gardens growing under them . My voice is my song and I need to sing.
Dear Father,
For years I have cried
For the words burning their way out of your mouth
They stick to me , scaring my skin
I refuse to be a welcome mat
To any hateful wildfires
So no , I will not censor my feeling
The way I cry for puppy dogs
And the ache in my heart for fireflies trapped in mason jars
Dear Lover ,
I will never put your life over mine ,
Hold you as a trophy , I reject your ownership over my body
I refuse to have unprotected sex with you
The temple of my body belong only to me.
I owe you nothing , nothing
Dear Self
Your body is beautiful , scarred , There is a burning fire inside my chest
Smoke rises and my eye bloodied
Tears cry out.
God bless your feeling ,
Hallelujah to the rivers of anger and frustration
Sadness and fear
Hallelujah to the ugly truth of all your feeling
The anxiety that built your backbone for years I felt broken and defective.
No lousy piece of glass can ever show you the beauty of your heart.
You are so so smart , you are so brilliant
Everything you feel is okay
Everything you feel is okay .
cover ART:
"A FACE" BY SAM BUGANSKI