Stephens Life | Spring 2018

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STaff MANAGING EDITORS Editor in Chief Allison I. Moorman Creative Director Alexandra Martin Co-Director of Outreach Allex Looper Co-Director of Outreach Jacqueline Heath

STAFF Aurola Wedman Alfaro Madelyne Allen Erin Connell Hannah Dorey Bri Mays Shelby Johnson Emma Libby Brittany Noel Spiva Erika Westhoff

CONTRIBUTORS William Víquez Mora Jerianna Harden

ADMINISTRATION Staff Advisor Mikkel Christensen Special Thanks Lisa Lenoir Terry Britt

Stephens Life is the student magazine of Stephens College in Columbia, Missouri. Opinions expressed are not necessarily the views of the college, students, administration, faculty or staff.

Stephens Life strives for accuracy. To report a correction or clarification, please send an email to allmoorman14@sc.stephens.edu.

THE LINE UP

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SPRING 2018 STAFF

Aurola Wedman Alfaro

brittany Noel Spiva

Shelby Johnson

Madelyne Allen

Emma Libby

Erin Connell

Hannah Dorey

Erika Westhoff

Bri Mays

Jacqueline Heath

Allex Looper

Alexandra Martin

Allison I. Moorman

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Letter from the Editor

I took my maiden voyage with Stephens Life. Three years ago, I had no idea that I would be joining a team that created content that broke barriers, sparked conversation and garnered national attention. Three years ago, I thought I was simply joining a class on a recommendation of a friend. Little did I know Stephens Life would become the life blood of my college career, teaching me more about myself than any other three credit hour class.

I like to think I’m not a wallflower, and if there’s one thing you take away about Stephens Life, this magazine isn’t either. As we created this issue, our team was of the same mind: making an issue that called out the bullshit that’s been swirling around the world for all too long.

Aurola Wedman Alfaro wrote a story about being Hispanic, coming to the U.S. and being asked if she worked at Taco Bell. I interviewed two women about their battle with eating disorders, and how they were told they looked fine simply because their ribs weren’t showing. Erika Westhoff’s story revolves around asexuality, and how those who identify as such are treated as anomalies. Stephens Life seeks to educate each time we publish, because the bottom line is, ignorance is no longer an option.

In the end, I hope you love this issue as much as we do. I hope you yell “Girl Powah!” at some point in Ginger Spice’s accent, and you leave with a better understanding of those who walk our campus. This is your captain signing off, and I thank you so much for flying with me for so long. I can’t wait to see this magazine continue to soar.

Enjoy, consume, converse.

All my love,

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Stephens

Lif e

/

Spring

2018

/

Issu e

6

the glass ceiling

12

from the dough up

14

the a-team

22

the meat of the matter

30

breaking the binds

36

labeled

42

zero definition

50

women ‘n’ music

56

raise your hand if

N o. 1 2

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THE GLASS Women: the wrecking ball to your construction site

As a woman in the workforce, it can feel like the odds are stacked against you, However, that doesn’t mean the status quo should be accepted. Linda Pattie, the former director of Student Life at Stephens College, shares her story of succeeding in a man’s world since the 1970s, and her ingenious plan to correct an unfair pay situation.​

CEILING

Story by Linda Pattie Photography by Hannah Dorey

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here is still a long way to go when it comes to shattering the glass ceiling, and we certainly learned that in this last presidential election. But when I first started working, sexual harassment was fine, there were no laws. But I always stood up for myself, and there was often a man who would stick up for me, which I find interesting.

I was the first woman to be a marketing executive for this company I worked for in New York. It was interesting because I was a marketing and communications manager, and I had to work with all these guys from Queens.

But, I knew my shit. I knew how to get things done, and I moved up a lot because of it.

I was also raised by parents who didn’t make me feel like I had less opportunities than my brother, so, for me, I never felt that I was less than for being a woman. But when you get into the workplace, you have to prove yourself.

If you’re forceful, you’re a “bitch,” but I found a way to work with those guys and it was fun. I found a way, and I got more things done than anyone else at the company.

At the same company, I found out that a man I was supervising was making $30,000 a year more than I was. I went to my boss, who had gotten me raises before, and said, “C’mon.”

He said no. So, I waited until I got my $8,000 bonus a few months later. I got my bonus on a Friday and quit on a Monday. He offered me another bonus if I would stay a little later to help with the transition, so I did that then left.

They then hired three people to take my place.

They then hired me back as a consultant. So, I charged $75 an hour. I made up that $30,000 difference in a few months’ time. That’s karma for you.

Fuck yeah.

- Linda Pattie

Linda Pattie is the former Director of Student Life at Stephens College and a founding Director of Opera House Arts in Deer Isle, Maine. Pattie is just one of the countless women who strove to shatter the glass ceiling -- it’s our job to uphold their legacy.

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That glass ceiling you’re looking at?

It won’t stop us.

Get ready to watch it SHATTER.

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building a business

from the dough up After years of working at almost every Columbia culinary staple, pastry chef Jill Rostine has fulfilled her dream: owning her own bakery + dessert bar, Good Food Co.

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Story by Erika Westhoff Photography by Alexandra Martin + Allison I. Moorman

J

ill Rostine is made from scratch. Just like the food she serves. She never went to culinary school to become a pastry chef. Instead, she learned the base of her baking knowledge in her family’s kitchen and honed her craft observing those she worked with in the Columbia culinary industry for 16 years.

Today, after many tirals and tribulations, Rostine owns her own pastry business in The District. Good Food Co. is nestled across from Fretboard Coffee and is connected to the catacombs under Artlandish Gallery. She immediately knew, that was where she would fulfill her dream.

“I walked into this space and could see it. At that point, it was a totally empty room and there was just a pile of dirt from where they had torn up the floor to get to the pipes for a sewer line project,” says Rostine, “I just knew this was the place.”

Her Columbia career began at Uprise Bakery before moving on to work at Bleu, UKneadSweets, Les Bourgeois Bistro and Sycamore, as well as freelancing as a baker on the side. While working the restaurant circuit, she realized that there was a foodery void in Columbia to be filled: a from scratch, organic bakery.

“There is a resurgence of farm-to-table, eat local and seasonal approach. I certainly hope it’s not just a trend, but a change of our current way of life. I’ve been on that path among peers who are like-minded and growing, personally, in a community that is likeminded. That’s what has brought me here,” says Rostine.

All the items on Good Food Co.’s menu are inspired by classic recipes that Rostine changes up with her own creative twists featuring seasonal ingredients.

Whether you need to grab a quick bite to eat in the morning, want to earn some kudo points with your office during lunch break or are craving something sweet during a night out, Rostine is ready to provide.

Rostine began her journey toward being a brick-andmortar business owner by selling her baked goods at the Columbia Farmers Market. This year, Good Food Co. will be taking a break from the Saturday Market while Rostine gets her feet under

her. She currently runs a one-woman kitchen with a few volunteers to help take care of basic tasks.

“One of my volunteers is a customer from the Farmers Market. She just came up one day and was like, ‘I heard you were building a place, I’m about to retire, and I want something to do with my time,’” says Rostine.

“She covers some days with opening the bakery from 7-10 a.m. During that time, I go home and get my son ready for school, so it is huge for me to have that support.”

Rostine said that she has received widely positive support and interest from the Columbia community.

She created a GoFundMe for Good Food Co. that was shared by 244 people. The goal that Rostine had set to cover the costs of applying for permits, hiring contractors and buying commercial cooking equipment wasn’t reached.

Rostine had to postpone her opening date, but she persevered and invested in herself. She took on the dual role of designer/contractor and did whatever labor she could herself to cut down on costs.

Good Food Co. opened its business and oven doors for the 2018 New Year. Though she is now open, Rostine still doesn’t feel as though she’s made it yet.

“The issue for me is that I see the finish. I see all the pieces that are currently missing. You don’t see that from the other side of the counter, but I have the whole plan in my head,” says Rostine.

“The future of my business is still here, but with an increased level of efficiency by far,” she continued. “It’s not my wish to grow and have other locations, delivery or a ton of catering. I don’t want to lose sight of the quality or what makes this place awesome.”

She said she strives to provide the community that has supported her with quality baked goods made from scratch with local, organic ingredients.

“I think a bakery can be a heart of a community,” says Rostine. “I want to bake happiness.”

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The A-Team Navigating Nonexistence

Stor y by Erika Westhoff Photography by Allison I. Moor man

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If you make your way past the first four letters of the LGBT alphabet soup, you’ll eventually run into L-G-B-T-Q-I-A.

O

ften remembered only as “ally,” this A can also stand for agender, asexual (ace), or aromantic (aro).

No, these terms are not directly connected.

What they do have in common, however, is the prefix “a-” which means “not.” Not part of the male/female gender binary, not sexually attracted to others or not romantically attracted to others.

Gender, sexuality and romance play such prominent roles in our society, but for those who identify with the capital “A” it is the dismissal of these identities that shape their experiences. Experiences that are as diverse as the individuals to whom they belong, particularly in the Stephens College community.

Stephens College junior Cai Santee’s hot pink hair, beat-up combat boots and jean jacket stuck full of political pins broadcasts their punk aesthetic and activism. What their style doesn’t tell you is that they are a poet with an un-ironic love of country music and a nonbinary woman-aligned lesbian.

“The ‘A’ of my identity is my gender. I have a flow chart of identification: trans, non-binary and agender. In my brain, my gender is very solid and it’s disconnected from the societal binary,” Santee says. “But my expression of gender swifts. Some days it’s very feminine, like campy feminine, and other days it’s very masculine, in a kind of default way.”

Santee had always felt that they weren’t a

woman, but didn’t discover the term agender until college. Meanwhile, Stephens senior Janet Reinschmidt was introduced to gender theory in high school by their English teacher, who openly identified as gender variant.

Gender, sexuality and romance play such a prominent role in our society, but for those who identify with the capital “A” it is the dismissal of these identities that shape their experiences.

Upon introduction, Reinschmidt invokes the image of a modern skater version of a ‘70s folk singer. If you engage them in conversation it becomes clear that they possess a wealth of Old Hollywood trivia. Reinschmidt identifies as a non-binary lesbian. Much like Santee, Reinschmidt didn’t identify as agender until college.

“I always knew that I didn’t fit in the gender binary, but non-binary didn’t feel like a space I could occupy until recently. I finally felt comfortable with myself,” Reinschmidt says.

For Reinschmidt, claiming the agender label was more about being open with themselves than anything. A fear exists that excess labels make everything more confusing rather than helping, a fear that Santee disagrees with.

“Labels are just putting names to feelings that

“Labels can be empowering. Having a term made me feel valid.”

-Olivia Bashaw.

already exist. We’re not creating new feelings, it’s like ‘oh this is a feeling and there is a word for it and there is a community for it and I can get advice on how to maneuver it in society,’” Santee says. “For example: I’m woman-aligned in that I’m a femme lesbian.”

the term. Until very recently, the scientific community labeled asexuality as a disorder.

Research conducted at institutions such as the University of British Columbia has since concluded that asexuality is best defined as a sexual orientation.

The woman-aligned label for non-binary folks acknowledges their experiences in a binary society. A femme-presenting non-binary person walking down the street will still be seen and treated as a woman. When nonbinary individuals assert their place in what are considered women’s issues and spaces, like Stephens College, it can cause confusion for those who see it as contradictory Santee says.

Stephens junior Olivia Bashaw’s personality practically vibrates through their small frame in what could be mistaken for nervous energy.

Brown roots peak out of gray hair, off-setting their hodge podge grandma style. Bashaw is asexual and a self-labeled lesbian since it would take a very specific guy to spark their interest they say.

“I configured it to make sense for me because women’s colleges were created to give a safe learning space to a marginalized gender, which is still what I am,” Santee says.

Santee and others have found their place within what are assumed to be solely women’s spaces, but they still experience moments of exclusion, for example when genitals are equated with gender or being told their pronouns aren’t valid.

“I’ve had a lot of people tell me that you can’t use they/them pronouns if you’re one person.

Then people will use that as an excuse to ignore your identity altogether,” Reinschmidt says.

“But grammar is always evolving.”

Evolution is seen not only in grammar, but in labels that apply to sexuality. Approximately one percent of the world’s adult population is asexual, but a stigma exists surrounding

“Labels can be empowering. Having a term made me feel valid,” Bashaw says. “I thought I was broken, but then I realized there was a label for what I was feeling.”

In 2016, University of British Columbia researchers published a dissertation that stated “no single theory can explain asexuality,” underscoring the diversity among the asexual population. Diversity that is seen in the asexual community present on Stephens College campus.

Sitting in front of her gaming monitor playing Overwatch, Stephens junior Courtney Sarpy exudes a quiet presence at odds with her height and assertive voice. She loves Korean pop and dramas, attributing a portion of that love to the fact that they aren’t as sexualized as Western media. Sarpy identifies as asexual and is nondiscriminatory when it comes to romantic attraction.

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“Asexual as a label is like a cloud casting a shadow, it’s covering everyone who identifies under it, but we’re all catching a different amount of shade,” Sarpy says. “People make a lot of assumptions when I say I’m asexual, like that I don’t masturbate. Masturbation? Fine.

Sex? No.” A difference exists between sexual attraction and having a sex drive, Sarpy explains.

Other people don’t have to be involved in order for someone to have a sex drive, but this fact causes many people to assume that asexuals’ lack of attraction to others stems from past sexual trauma. Past trauma may be a contributing factor for some people, such as Bashaw, but it doesn’t undermine their asexuality.

“For me it is trauma-based, or well, it’s hard to say if it is directly trauma-based, but the trauma that I had definitely solidified my asexuality. Honestly, the fact that I had to even force myself to be in my past relationship is telling, but it’s hard to remember how I felt before it happened,” Bashaw says.

Society is so sex entrenched that it is assumed everyone is both straight and sexual until proven otherwise, Bashaw explains. They considered themselves heteorsexual until they realized they didn’t have to be interested in either men or sex.

“I’ve been trying to reclaim the word ‘prude’ for myself,” Bashaw says. “Prude has a lot of bad associations with it, but I want to use it as a way to empower myself. Yeah, I don’t want to hear about sex and I think that I have a right to not have to hear about sex.”

Sarpy rejects the word “prude.”

“It bothers me when people are talking about their one night stands, but also it’s your body.

You do you,” Sarpy says. “You’re not a slut, I’m not a prude. We’re just who we are.”

Bashaw and Sarpy experience many different assumptions about asexuality, but one in particular is the connection people draw between asexuality and aromanticism. Almost no consideration is given to aromanticism as its own concept. The few studies where it has been discussed are asexuality studies with subjects who identify as both aro and ace.

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“My least favorite question is, ‘What are you?’

Are you asking me about my race, my sexuality or my star sign?

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The subject of aromanticism in people who experience sexual attraction has yet to be really explored. But romantic attraction and sexual attraction can exist separately. For some people the two align, like if someone identified as both bisexual and biromantic. For others, the two attractions differ, like if someone is heterosexual and aromantic. Aromantics can still have close platonic sexual relationships, just like asexuals can still have romantic relationships.

People who identify as aromantic could also be asexual and agender or any combination of identities. Many would argue that there is a clear connection between sexuality, romance and gender, but theoretical arguments don’t always apply to lived experiences.

Bashaw, Sarpy, Santee and Reinschmidt all have encountered people who casually undermined their identities with phrases such as, “you haven’t met the right person yet,” “you have to be either male/female,” “you just want attention” and the plaintiff accusation “but that doesn’t exist.”

Those outside the LGBTQ+ community are not the only ones saying these things. Even within the community there is a rejection of the prefix aidentities. With every interview conducted, a need to defend instead of just discuss their identities was present.

“My least favorite question is, ‘What are you?’ Are you asking me about my race, my sexuality or my star sign? There are so many things that I am, Creole, asexual, a Virgo. So, explain what you want and then accept what I give you,” Sarpy says. “My asexuality is not who I am as a person even if it is a part of me, but once I explain that I’m asexual to people it seems like they think that’s all I am.”

Despite push back outside and within the LGBTQ+ community, Reinschmidt asserts that a space exists for those who identify as agender, asexual or aromantic. The process of finding that space may vary person to person, but the most important aspect is self-reflection and selfidentification.

“I’m comfortable with myself, so it’s not like everyone else has to be comfortable with me too, which is something that I’m finally getting,” Reinschmidt says.

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the meat of the matter the toxic masculinity of meat + how a plant-based diet can be an act of feminism

Story + Photography by Alexandra Martin

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The idea that animals were meant for

D

oes meat consumption equate with masculinity? Recent survey results might lead one to believe that. Only 21 percent of vegans are men, according to a survey from the blog “The Vegan Truth.” Veganism has otherwise spread rapidly in the U.S. Three years ago, just 1 percent of the population identified as vegans.

Today, it is 6 percent according to a recent report by “GlobalData.” However, the movement is largely feminine. So where are the men and why are they so against a vegan lifestyle?

Being a red-blooded man in America is manning the barbecue, watching the game with the boys over some Buffalo Wild Wings right off the bone and driving over to a Hardee’s after being enticed by a swimsuit-clad Paris Hilton, covered in suds on top of a car, devouring a juicy burger.

Being male in the U.S. also means having a shorter average lifespan than women. High meat consumption is associated with increased risks of cancer, heart disease, strokes, diabetes, obesity and impotence, according to the Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health.

In American culture, compassion is feminized and violence and non-emotions are masculinized. Being “a man” often means throwing a swing at the guy at the end of the bar who keeps looking at you funny, laughing with your boys about ghosting that last one-night stand and never ever letting someone see you cry. It is no wonder that a compassionate vegan diet is widely considered to be “just for girls.”

I cannot begin to recount to you the amount of times men have, without being provoked, condemned me and insulted me for choosing a meatless life.

They tend to diminish my choices to justify their own, even throwing in a, “Well that’s why you’re so skinny, you need more protein!”

I’m not a snowflake, I’m not triggered by everything and I’m not a dirty hippie. I just want to live the cleanest, healthiest lifestyle possible based on extensive research conducted. The idea that animals were meant for our exploitation and consumption is just as antiquated to me, as the idea that women are inferior to men.

Our society has a way of enforcing ideals that women should be diet-abiding, calorie restricting and conscious of remaining of a certain physique.

On the other hand, dietary restrictions for men

ou r explo itati o n an d co nsu m pti o n is j ust as anti quated as th e i d ea that wo m en are i n feri o r to m en. are invisible and there’s no stigma in seeing an overweight man inhaling a double-patty burger.

Why is it that a man who cooks is such a catch but a woman’s culinary expertise is to be expected? This gendered eating is harmful for men and “meat is manly” stereotypes can increase risks for previously mentioned health problems. It’s no wonder that the World Health Organization reports that women live longer than men in every country.

But some are trying to change the status quo.

Matt and Phil Letten are the widely successful entrepreneurs, “The Vegan Bros.” These two brothers are everything your preconceived notions of “vegan” are not. They’re muscular, they’re loud and they swear. A lot.

They said that they launched their vegan bros brand, including a website, social media and soonto-be published book, to usher in the age of the new vegan. They noted that where there used to be stereotypes of the past, nowadays you have people of all walks of life joining the movement: a cross section of society.

These brothers acknowledge that traditionally, women have lead the movement, “Women have dominated the veganism for years. Women are allowed to be more in touch with their emotional side. And they have lead the charge into this compassionate movement.”

But now it’s time for the men to embrace new definitions of manliness, Matt said: “Being a man is to understand yourself. To look inside. To know yourself better. To get in touch with your emotions so that you can negotiate the world better and help others.”

“The lie is that you’re a man if you eat meat. But here’s the truth. The truth is as we’ve evolved as humans and our consciousness evolves what’s the truth,” Matt said. “You are a man if you protect as many as you can. If you expand your protection, your compassion to as many as possible, how fucking manly is that shit? It’s like, fuck no, you’re not hurting them and I’m not gonna contribute to it anymore. That’s manly as fuck.”

"You are a man if you protect as many as you can. If you expand your protection, your compassion to as many as possible. " -MATT LETTEN

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Hank Rothgerber, professor of psychology at Bellarmine University, told NBC News he believes meat is deeply ingrained in American men as a perception of masculinity. He explained: “Meat consumption is a symbol of patriarchy resulting from its long-held alliance with manhood, power and virility.”

Rothgerber penned an article titled “Real Men Don’t Eat (Vegetable) Quiche: Masculinity and the Justification of Meat Consumption” in the journal “Psychology of Men & Masculinity.” In this article, he conducted a survey to find out why people continue to eat meat despite the growing knowledge of its negative effects on health and the environment.

He found that men justified eating meat through a denial of animal suffering and a more hierarchical view on humans over animals in the world.

In Rothgerber’s article, he refers back to Carol J. Adams as the founder of the connection between vegetarianism and feminism. Adams laid the groundwork for Rothgerber’s theory in her book “The Sexual Politics of Meat” published in 1990.

The New York Times later referred to her book as “a bible of the vegan community,” and praised it for its new outlook on meat, sexism and the interrelation between the two.

Adams’ website states, “The Sexual Politics of Meat argues that male dominance and animals’ oppression are linked by the way that both women and animals function as absent referents in meat eating and dairy production, and that feminist theory logically contains a vegan critique...just as veganism covertly challenges patriarchal society.”

The book discusses the theory of “the absent referents,” in which the human separates the violence of meat eating with the pleasure of meat eating by not seeing the meat on their plate as what it is: meat on a plate. This is similar to the theory of cognitive dissonance, where humans know the facts of certain things, but choose to turn a blind eye.

I think it’s safe to say that everyone knows a hamburger was once a cow and that chicken nuggets were once a chicken, but meat-eaters don’t want to acknowledge that connection, perhaps out of discomfort.

Adams also coined a “trinity of forces” that combine the link between meat and sexism. These forces are objectification, when we no longer see someone as someone; fragmentation, when we cut that being up; and consumption, where we consume the being. With these forces, she connects the literal consumption of animals and the all-too familiar visual consumption of women through the male gaze.

All beings should be recognized as a whole instead of a sum of their parts. When you go to a diner and order a side of bacon, you order a pig. By renaming it bacon, we are able to ignore that it came from the meat of the belly-side of a pig.

Women are all too used to being identified as object, or sexualized for parts of them: breasts, butt, legs, overall physical appearance. To some, it’s easier to see a woman as these parts of a whole, rather than the multi-faceted being that she is.

These examples aren’t meant to make a blanket statement suggesting the men aren’t feminists.

They just highlight that, for many, veganism and animal rights tend to align with feminism and human rights, something women are more likely to live out and notice on a day-to-day basis.

Is meat consumption perpetuating patriarchy? Are men in our society simply raised and conditioned to enjoy meat and stick up their noses at salads?

Cooking isn’t feminine. Eating consciously isn’t feminine. and being health and environmentally aware aren’t feminine.

We must change the way meat is seen and consumed, and work to alter how diet choices are perceived as feminine or masculine. We all can benefit from a happier planet, a cleaner dinner plate and increased equality.

Cooking isn't feminine.

Being environmentally aware isn't feminine.

Eating consciously isn't feminine.

Being healthy isn't feminine.

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Breaking the Binds the breaking points, recovery and life with an eating disorder.

Story + Photography by Allison I. Moorman

Breaking the Binds

t he bre ak ing points, rec ov er y and life with an eatin g disorde r.

Story + Photography by Allison I. Moorman

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rior to sitting down with Hannah Dorey and Anna Tripolitis, two Stephens students who have dealt and are still dealing with eating disorders, I had a certain picture in my mind of what eating disorders looked like. Picture middle 2000s: Mary Kate Olsen, being called out for eating only a plate of lettuce at a business lunch. Tara Reid, looking emaciated in a bikini.

Kate Bosworth, bending over in a low-cut gown, with a clear shot of every single one of her ribs.

AT: I was pretty much fully aware of everything from the start, so personally I went through seven years of denial. But when I started college, it kind of blew up in my face and I had to go to therapy. Even with my therapist I denied it at times, and sometimes I still do.

Remember when we took the P-SAT, were given a list and made to choose which item in the list didn’t belong?

Example: trunk, tire, wheel, dog—I won’t give you the answer to that question, but I hope you know it. The bottom line is, we have been taught and tested to seek out commonalities, norms, things that make sense when assessed together. So, when we see a waiflike starlet being checked into rehab for an eating disorder, our minds naturally make sense of it, because she fits the bill—rich, white, blonde.

AT: In the late summer of 2014, l had just gone through a breakup and it got to a point where I was just bingeing and purging, up to 11 times a day. I had no time for anything else. Even then I didn't do anything about it for another seven months or so.

P

However, no two eating disorder experiences are the same. Each have a different cause, trigger, backstory and recovery. Out of the 70 million men and women in the world who struggle with an eating disorder, here are the stories of two:

When were you diagnosed with your eating disorder?

Hannah Dorey: It took me a while to get an official diagnosis, but I left college in the fall of 2016, was in hospital for a little bit then I was officially diagnosed with anorexia nervosa.

Anna Tripolitis: I was diagnosed really late, not until 2015. The official title is, “eating disorder, not otherwise specified.”

Leading up to that, do you have any specific instances that made you go, “oh my God. I have an eating disorder,” and try to deny it or was there always a denial process?

HD: Um, for me it was always a denial process. I think it was something that was building since I was a kid, but I just didn't even realize. Coming to college, when you're faced with this like stressful situation, you find whatever coping method works and I guess it was just accelerated in a way. In my head, I knew something was wrong and I knew the risks and I did the research, but I was always adamant that it was just a temporary thing.

What was the tipping point? When did you realize you were at your worst point?

I usually would run through six different fast food restaurants and take it all home or sometimes I wouldn't even wait till I got home and eat it all in a considerably small amount of time, in 30 to 45 minutes. Then, for the next hour, I would throw up.

it go t to a p o in t wh er e I was ju st bin gein g a n d p ur gin g, u p to 1 1 t ime s a day. . . even if I d id wa n t to eat a r egula r m ea l, I p hysic a lly cou ld n o t, I wo uld p hysic a lly get sick .

I was super dehydrated all the time. It was at this point where even if I did want to eat a regular meal, I physically could not, I would physically get sick and involuntarily throw up. My throat was sore all the time, and now I have a really raspy voice because of it. Fortunately, the physical things didn’t go much past that.

HD: The worst came through, of all things, an app.

I had this calorie counter on my phone, and I would be horrified if I ate anywhere above 800 calories in one day. And that number just kept going down and down and down.

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I would make up all these rules for myself, like nothing over 100 calories in one sitting. I couldn't stand that feeling of being full.

So, I would just make these rules to just not feel full. Normally, it would be half a banana, and it was luck that kept me from throwing it up. And on top of that, I was playing tennis and going to the gym every day for three hours at a time. The worst point was one day in August. I just could not move on the court and my chest was hurting so much that I was admitted to hospital that night here in America. Not long after that I made the decision to go home, back to Australia, to receive treatment.

How did you come to understand your disease as you received treatment?

HD: My psychologist, doctor and whole recovery team explained it this way: you have a certain pathway in your brain that makes you develop an eating disorder, and people can only develop an eating disorder if they have that type of mental makeup. That made me change my whole mindset, to actually treat my disorder like a disease. It’s a disease in the same way that you would treat chronic migraines or any other medical issue, it deserves that type of respect.

It’s a d i s e a s e i n t h e s a m e way tha t yo u wou l d t r e a t ch r o ni c mig r a i n e s o r a ny o the r med i c a l i s s u e, i t deserv e s t h at typ e of re s p e c t.

When you look at media portrayals of eating disorders, like in the film “To the Bone,” do you feel that they are accurate?

So, the film’s whole idea of being in a house with all these meetings and then commiserating together over eating disorders is inaccurate. At this hospital, there was this really terrible doctor who said eating disorders stem from the following: money issues, family issues and boyfriend issues. That’s bullshit.

They can play a part, but they don’t cause them; yet, “To the Bone” supported that idea.

HD: I don't want to ever negate someone's experience, but generally speaking, that's not what happens nowadays. The whole film was problematic.

First, you’ve got the unsupportive family, while in my experience, my family saved my life.

During my treatment, I switched hospitals, and was placed next to another girl with an eating disorder, which right off the bat is not supposed to happen.

Eating disorders are very competitive by design.

AT: One thing the film did represent for me was the unsupportive family. To this day, I don't think my mom believes that I had an eating disorder, or that it was properly diagnosed by my therapist. She even questioned my therapist's abilities for a while.

But beyond that specific film, I think it’s very hard to find accurate media representation. It’s very onesided. I feel like they exploit eating disorders, by glamorizing and romanticizing them.

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We often talk about what is happening on the outside with an eating disorder, because it’s tangible, it’s visible. But, what is an eating disorder like on the inside?

look sick. What’s wrong with me?” With a lot of eating disorders, everything looks fine, so when people don’t believe you, it strengthens that eating disorder “voice.”

HD: There is this certain eating disorder “voice.”

You don't hear it as an actual voice, but it's just these urges that you have to fight not to give in to.

During my recovery, my mom would say, “is the voice loud today?” If I said yes, she would say “tell that bitch to shut up!”

I have a certain privilege in my recovery, being a white, middle class woman. But what if I was a person of color and a man? That’s why it is so important not to negate someone’s experience, because it only fuels the illogical part of themselves that tells them everything is fine.

So right now, are there ever triggers for you?

AT: When you don’t look like you have an eating disorder, that’s when things become dangerous.

Being someone who is plus size and saying that I have an eating disorder, people just think I binge.

They assume because it acts as an excuse for my weight. It’s hard, because people will see pictures of me from high school when I was restricting and say, “oh, that’s not you. Did you edit it?

That’s a fake picture.” They think I looked my best, when really, I was at my worst.

AT: All the time, every single day. I also struggled with substance abuse, but my eating disorder was way harder to get over, especially after I got sober.

It was as if I had gotten over one coping mechanism but was still left with another. To this day, when things get stressful, it’s really easy for me to slip back into certain habits like purging. I don’t have any food triggers per se, but still, if I see others eating around me with less on their plate, I wonder if I should be eating the amount I have on my own.

In that moment I have to convince myself not to throw up. I kind of developed this fear of eating with other people. You usually can't tell, but there's an inner monologue going on inside my head.

It's hard to shake that instinct when you've been developing it for years.

Dur in g my r ec over y, my mom wo uld say, “is th e vo ic e lou d to d ay? ” If I sa id yes, sh e wo uld say

HD: A trigger for me is also significant amounts of stress. In those moments, I have to be more cautious. But there are also a bunch of little things that can strike a nerve. On a good day, I can be sitting with friends and we can be talking about weight and diets and what not. But the next day, if anyone even mentions the words “weight loss,” I have to leave the room. I always used to get really upset when people would make the “triggered” joke over something silly, but nowadays I don’t get upset by it because I realized that things I find funny can be triggers for others, and visa versa.

What’s a piece of advice you would give to someone dealing with an eating disorder?

The picture often painted is there is only one type of eating disorder and you have to be a certain type of girl to have one. However, do you two ever feel like when you say that you had an eating disorder, that you've been discredited by others because you don't look like the “norm?”

AT: Damn. Ditto.

HD: People always do the whole body scan.

Whenever I tell people I have anorexia, they think I’m joking because I look healthy, even when I was in the hospital. I was always telling myself, “I don’t

“te l l th at b itc h to s h u t up! ”

HD: I know for a fact how isolating an eating disorder is. I lied to my friends, family and even my recovery team, telling them I was fine. But, you have to fight back against that. You have to learn to trust others, and also yourself. You know it’s a long road, but it’s so worth it. To have your health back, to have your life back, there’s nothing more freeing.

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labeled “Are you here illegally?”

“That is not a Hispanic name” “You should work at Taco Bell” Dealing with racial stereotypes and assumptions in the United States.

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Photography + Story by Aurola Wedman Alfaro

“

They weren’t like the pretty labels on highend clothes. They were stereotypes.”

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I

came to this world on a warm Friday night. Far from here, under the dim Costa Rican skies, I opened my eyes to the fuzzy image of blue hospital walls.

I inhaled my first breath, cried my first tears and received my first labels. I was pronounced female and was given a name. I also received two nationalities. From my mother, I inherited the loud laugh and the Costa Rican nationality. From my father, I got the love for books and the U.S. citizenship.

I grew up in Costa Rica, where the population is a mixture of people from Spanish, Indigenous and African origin. Discrimination still exists, but because of our multiracial populace, people are usually classified as locals or foreigners, instead of by race.

During the 23 years I lived in the colorful, coffee-producing country, I accumulated other identifiers, or labels. The labels described my personality or my appearance, but none of them described my skin color. In short, I had been alive for almost a quarter of a century before I had to figure out if I was white or brown.

I first thought of them as labels. But they weren’t like the pretty labels on high-end clothes. They were stereotypes.

Because I am Hispanic, I was asked if I am in this country illegally. I was asked if I receive more financial aid due to my race. I received all sorts of inquiries about tacos and margaritas, which I have tried in Mexican restaurants, but which are not representative of the other 18 Spanish-speaking countries in the Americas.

The stereotypes extended to others as well. My husband, who is also Costa Rican, is named William, after his father. A few months ago, he answered a phone call at his job. After introducing himself, the customer responded “There is no way your name is William.”

Apparently, William is not a hard time “proper” Hispanic name.

I have a understanding why race is so important in the United States.

Why are people judged depending on their complexion, or the language they speak?

That changed when I moved to the U.S. to attend college in May 2016.

Every time I filled out a form, from college to insurance applications, I encountered that daunting question. The one asking about my race and ethnicity. The question extended beyond a piece of paper.

At the hospital where I worked, at the coffee shop, at the store where I asked for a “glass” of ice cream instead of a “cup.” People saw me and asked whether I was Mexican, Puerto Rican, Native American. Once I even got Asian.

I was amazed by two things: First, my seemingly chameleonic appearance, and second, the fixation some people had with putting me in a “race box.”

Although my father is white, some people do not see me as such. Even I see myself as Costa Rican — after all, I lived there for most of my life. I identified, on the paper forms and in-person inquiries, as Hispanic.

Once my ethnicity was clear, assumptions followed.

Mary Wright, a fashion student at Stephens College, who identifies as African-American, has had similar experiences. “My name surprises a lot of people. They might think that my name is Keisha instead of Mary, because I do not ‘look’ like a Mary,” Wright said.

Before attending Stephens, I worked as a medical interpreter and a patient advocate. Recently, a middle-age man “joked” that I should work at Taco Bell. He knows about my job experience and about my Hispanic heritage. There is nothing wrong with working at Taco Bell, but I wonder, would he make the same assumption of a Caucasian person who is not wearing an “I love tacos” T-shirt? The nuances of my personality and my achievements seem irrelevant when someone places me in a premade “box” for Hispanics.

Stereotypes do not cause me physical pain; they do not leave scars. They leave me feeling disappointed and make me think a lot. I have a hard time understanding why race is so important in the United States. Why are people judged depending on their complexion, or the language they speak?

Phoenix Bussey, a filmmaking student who identifies as multiracial, indicated, “I am OK with people asking me about my culture. But if they are just going to stereotype me, I feel that is disrespectful. I am automatically assumed to be something and I don’t like that.”

“

If they are just going to stereotype me, I feel that is disrespectful.I am automatically assumed to be something and I don’t like that.”

-Phoenix Bussey

Alexis Alexander, a fashion marketing student who identifies as Pacific Islander, also expressed her disposition to talk about her race and ethnicity.

“People assume I am African-American or sometimes Hispanic. In high school everybody referred to me as Asian. I just tell them I am half Filipino. I do not know a ton about the Filipino culture, but anything that I have learned from my mother, I like to tell,” says Alexander.

The questions are not the problem. The issue arises when we allow racial stereotypes to override what our eyes see and our ears hear.

I also met people who overlook stereotypes. Carol Swift is tall, joyful and incredibly kind. For more than a year, I lived at her home, which could be described as a boarding house for international students. During my time there, I had roommates who were Colombian, Chinese, African-American and Egyptian. Carol welcomed us all under her roof. She treated us equally.

She took us out for dinner on our birthdays. She did not pretend to know us based on the stereotypes that surround our races. She asked and listened.

I have friends and family members who, like Carol, are genuinely interested in my culture. They ask openended questions instead of filling in the blanks. They see me for who I am.

Earlier this week, I was waiting for the bus. It was windy, but the sun was out and everything looked pretty. A white man in his 60s sat next to me. He asked me if I went to school at the University of Missouri. “Stephens,” I answered. We exchanged a few comments. As my bus approached, I said goodbye.

“Good luck at school,” he responded, “You look smart.”

For a moment, I wondered what a smart person looks like. Glasses? A book in his or her hands? Suddenly, I realized he did not mention my accent or skin color.

Heck, I will take smart any day of the week.

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zero

DEFINITION TINA PHAM

Story by Bri Mays Photography by Hannah Dorey

Trying to define

beauty is like holding back the ocean...

impossible.

Fresh-faced and au naturel, we sat down with the women of Stephens College to discuss what constitutes natural beauty. We stripped our subjects bare of all makeup and hair products to let them shine.

The goal was to open conversation about beauty’s indefinability, while emphasizing the importance of acceptance and admiration of our peers.

Join the conversation.

How do YOU define natural beauty?

CORINNE BOBROW WILLIAMS

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“EMBRACE THE THINGS

ABOUT YOURSELF THAT YOU

love

.”

ELLA SHIRK

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“FOR ME PERSONALLY, IT FEELS

MORE GRATIFYING TO HEAR THAT I’M A

kind person. ”

I FEEL LIKE THAT’S MORE FULFILLING.

AYANNA SMITH

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“

“ glory BE YOU IN ALL OF YOUR BEAUTIFUL

BE WHO YOU WERE WHEN YOU WERE BORN.

ALEAHA WILLIAMSON

RACHAEL MALLINSON

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“

NATURAL BEAUTY IS YOUR OUTWARD PHYSICAL APPEARANCE, AND IS AMPLIFIED BY WHAT YOU HAVE ON THE INSIDE; YOUR PERSONALITY, YOUR

love ”

PASSIONS AND THE THINGS THAT YOU

.

MEGAN MURRAY

MANDY SCHROFF

SOPHIE TAUBE

HOPEPENA PENA HOPE

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Women + ‘n’ Music a long-awaited conversation The music industry is tough for women. Only 30 percent of musicians and 6% percent of the producers in the U.S. are female, and discrimination is rampant. So how do you overcome the challenges in such a male-dominated industry? We asked three female musicians at the True/False Film Festival to share their experiences, advice and thoughts on how to change the status quo in music.

Interviews by Brittany Noel Spiva

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! n a v a r a c k pin + namesa ke

St. Louis, Mo / Kansas City, Mo Rapper / Producer

How has your experience been different than other female artists, especially as a rapper in the industry?

Pink caravan!: You have to prove yourself a lot more. You have to come with the heat because people already don’t take you seriously as a woman. I think that’s starting to change, because you have a lot of females rapping right now and I’m happy about that.

For female rappers, do you feel it is more difficult or easier in the industry?

Namesake: It can be both. People are interested in different things, so I feel like when it comes to women in rap, you know it’s only being done a certain type of way for the most part. So, female artists may deviate from the norm. It could be different, on the other hand, it could help you because people are looking for more female artists to listen to.

What made you all realize that music was your path?

P: I wasn’t really too sure about my music career before the EP. I wasn’t reaching the production I wanted to be able to tell my story. But Namesake came around *laughs* and I felt like I could tell a story visually, like as you were seeing it. Looking at it.

What advice would you give other women that may struggle going further with their career in music?

P: Do what your gut is telling you. Put out things whether or not you know people will like it. I didn’t know how people would react to my EP. Put it out so you can please yourself. I feel like that is a limit for a lot of women that are trying to break into the industry. They don’t know how people would perceive the music, so it’s like a limitation.

How do you think that bringing the change can happen?

N: I think more people are inspired by success, to be honest. I think the more female artists that are successful, others can see themselves in that artist and are like, “Oh, I can do that too.” I see a lot of influence from Missy Elliot. If Missy Elliot wasn’t able to be a guidance in the industry, where would we be?

a n i ton

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suputo

St. Louis, Mo singer/songwriter/bassist

What have you learned from your experience in the industry?

Toninia: I have learned to stick to my guns and stay true to me. I’m still on my journey to discovering who I am with my artistry while learning to be unapologetic for what I present and what I perform. Especially being in a male dominated field.

How has your experience in the industry been so far?

T: I am at a point where I can speak up for myself and for other women. There was a time I was told by people that I only got my full scholarship to Berklee because I was a female bass player or that I was black and didn’t have two parents. It really discounts all the hard work and the hours I’ve spent. I also get commented on the way I look, which can sometimes make me feel uncomfortable too.

Did this happen to you when you were progressing?

T: It happened to me in college, it happens to me now, it happened when I moved back to St. Louis when I graduated in May, happen at one of my first shows. It’s like you can’t take a break. I’m learning to be assertive and let people know how I feel, because I’ve had problems with that in my life.

What advice would you give other women that may struggle with going forward in music?

T: If you’re a musician or an artist, because I think everyone is an artist, and not to be hippy dippy, but we need art to live. I don’t think anyone should discount that or discredit that art is a part of you.

Feel comfortable in your own skin and know that you cannot do that overnight, but start training to be more unapologetic when it comes to you because nobody can tell you how to be. You are the only person that you can depend on at the end of the day.

If you are getting shit from males, I strongly advise that you don’t look at speaking up [to them] as a confrontation, but as an education. Take a moment, if it’s appropriate, and educate them on why what they said to you is disrespectful. Just take a minute to educate, because that ignorance can be with them for the rest of their lives. If you don’t educate them on that, it could affect many other women besides you in the future.

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“

a y n tha iyer

Montreal, Québec singer/Violinist/pianist

As a woman, do you feel like your experience is different in the industry?

THANYA: Having a lot of women-centric opportunities is great because I get to meet awesome women in my field who do great things.

It’s fun and so empowering to have this support group of women who are working hard and figuring things out.

However, you never know if you’re given an opportunity because you’re a woman, a quota of being a person of color or a diversity quota. A lot of people ask me to do shows like “Hey, we just need more women,” and I always ask them “What about the music?

What advice would you give to other women?

T: You’re the only person that has to decide to say yes to yourself and to do any dream and accomplish any goal. Don’t let anyone else decide for you. You can do anything. Don’t be afraid. I think fear plays into everything. Even negative experiences and rejection can set you back. Let that all go. Don’t hold on. Be your own boss.

I want to see more women empowering other women and encouraging younger artists.”

You don’t need a manager or a booker and you don’t need a label. This is a really a freeing time in music where you can create whatever you want and can do it yourself. You can DIY anything. Just do it!

Why is it important for people to know this? Do you feel like it’s not said enough or thought about?

T: People need only love and encouragement when they start things out so that they can get strong.

Like, when someone says something bad about your music, you hold on to it forever until you can work through it. Personally speaking, I went through this realization and I think that we need to support people who are doing it out there.

What changes do you hope to see for women?

T: I hope to see everyone being nice and encouraging to each other more. I see it a lot now and I think that with the push for inclusiveness now, I hope to see it effortlessly present. I want to see more women empowering other women and encouraging younger artists.

Music is such a healing thing. It doesn’t have to be a career, but if it is, it would be nice to have the support for these things and to have something to be talked about.

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Come join our ta b l e . advertise with Stephens Life. contact slm.outreach@gmail.com for more information.

Issue Credits Glass Ceiling Story: Madelyne Allen Photography: Hannah Dorey Spread Design: Madelyne Allen Styling: Erin Connell, Madelyne Allen Assistants: Allex Looper, Shelby Johnson Models: Sydney Bias, Kaite Ritchi, Bella Lightner

Labeled Story: Aurola Wedman Alfaro Photography: Aurola Wedman Alfaro Spread Design: Alexandra Martin Make-Up: Jerianna Harden Assistants: Emma Libby, William Víquez Mora Models: Alexis Alexander, Phoenix Bussey, Mary Wright

From the Dough Up Story: Erika Westhoff Photography: Alexandra Martin + Allison I. Moorman Spread Design: Alexandra Martin

Zero Definition Story: Bri Mays + Hannah Dorey Photography: Hannah Dorey Spread Design: Hannah Dorey Assistants: Aurola Wedman Alfaro, Erika Westhoff, Emma Libby Models: Hope Pena, Aleaha Williamson, Ella Shirk, Corinne Bobrow Williams, Hannah Robertson, Rachael Mallinson, Megan Murray, Mandy Schroff, Sophie Taube, Ayanna Smith, Tina Pham

The A-Team Story: Erika Westhoff Photography: Allison I. Moorman Spread Design: Allison I. Moorman Assistant: Erika Westhoff Models: Olivia Bashaw, Cai Santee The Meat of the Matter Story: Alexandra Martin Photography: Alexandra Martin Spread Design: Alexandra Martin Model: Aaron Chisum Breaking the Binds Story: Allison I. Moorman Photography: Allison I. Moorman Spread Design: Allison I. Moorman Models: Hannah Dorey, Anna Tripolitis

Women ‘N’ Music Story: Brittany Noel Spiva Photos Courtesy Of: Rodrigo Villordo, Jessica Page, Frédérique Bérubé Spread Design: Brittany Noel Spiva Assistants: Shelby Johnson and Erika Westhoff Raise Your Hand If… Story + Spread Design: Allison I. Moorman Illustration: Alexandra Martin

TAKE A BREAK FOR

The Grind

4603 JOHN GARRY DRIVE, SUITE 1

Open 24 hours during finals week!

r u o y e s i a R . . . f i d Han

Story by Allison I. Moorman Illustration by Alexandra Martin

You know whether you are a Samantha, Carrie, Miranda or Charlotte….or a Stanford You check other drivers’ windshield wiper speed when it’s raining to see if you are being too dramatic You believe a Sonic run can heal nearly all common ailments You are either the plan maker or the plan canceler You don’t understand why anybody has their read receipts on You’ve made a buddy out of one of the Stamper staff You’ve learned the quirks of your dorm, and know to move out of the way of the shower head right after someone flushes @Prunty You’ll walk a little (or a lot) longer if it means avoiding a staircase You feel 100% adult after calling to make a doctor appointment You’re not from Missouri and get asked, “How did you find Stephens?”

The only baby pictures you want to look at are of your pet You think the age gap between 20 and 22 might as well be 13 and 30

you think pineapple pizza sounds like olives on ice cream or… you think pineapple on pizza is the best thing Canada ever gave us (besides Mark Thompson)

Scientists say wine is good for your health.

Let us prove it to you.

A m e r ican Far e, Daily sp ecials, Wine Bar & Cockta i l s 82 0 E Br oadway | M-Sat: 11 A M - 1: 30 A M, S u n day 11 A M- 12 A M

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Me r aki [may-r a h - kee] (ad j .) a Greek word used to describe doing something with soul, creativity or love; to leave a part of yourself in your work.