CEARTAS Issue 2

Issue 2

CEARTAS

UCC GLOBAL JUSTICE SOCIETY 04/2025

Global Justice 2024/2025

CONTENTS Letter from the CoChairpersons I’m Just A Girl

by Cornelia Hauch Skovmand

Our Furthermost Star

by Lavie Olupona

A Question of Our Power

by Cookeyed

Being Born With A Vagina Does Not Mean You Get To Be A Girl

by Freddie Phipps

Our Power Playlist

by Global Justice Society

Breath Of Anarchy

by Julka Taylor

Prodigals

by Fionn Ó Domhnaill

UCC Global Justice Committee 2024/2025 Thank you <3

LETTER FROM THE UCC Global Justice Society is nothing if not wholly vibrant, electric and inspiring.

Ideas, concerns and passions that may start small are seized upon and brought through the exhilarating process of brainstorming, team collaboration and actualisation. The Global Justice Society is dedicated to vibrantly expressing, developing and meeting our members' and community's needs and passions.

Last year, on our journey of renewal, we cultivated a colourful, passionate, and compassionate community; one that has not only deepened its roots but grown new branches.

This zine delves into the power and resilience of our members who are committed to shining a light on global justice issues, both as individuals and as a united collective. We encouraged our members to explore different mediums of self-expression, from poetry and imagery to spoken word and interview discussions.

CO-CHAIRPERSONS Gratitude and pride cannot begin to encapsulate how wonderful it has been to be immersed amongst such an engaged, passionate, and hard-working community of unique individuals. This zine is not only the tip of the iceberg for the work we have done as a society, but also a glimpse of what is to come as our community grows; and for that, we wait with eager anticipation.

Le grá, Hannah Morrissey and Freddie Phipps

I’m Just a I'm just a girl I don't brush out my curls You might catch me in pearls Under my arm there's hair I don't like that it's there But why do I care When it is just hair Gillette in their bag I'm in the palm of their hand What a clever brand Stop telling my body to change I don't want to shave Cause I hate that you made me think that I had to You made me feel like I wanted to You profit off of made up femininity

You profit off of made up femininity

I had to work To not equal my worth To my skinniness I know I don't have to lose weight I know that I'm valuable regardless But still I desire it I think of it all the time I say I want it for me But why do I want it

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I say it's to feel comfortable But why is my size so uncomfortable now I know that it's made up I know it's internalised But that doesn't change it Despite how hard I try not to

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I just want to be skinny I just want to be pretty Women don't owe you pretty That's true

But why do I feel like I owe it to myself

Our Furthermost Star

By Lavie Olupona

Do not ask for me to be silent, I shall keep rising and for that, keep fighting.

For my voice echoes and beams with the words of my ancestors, and of me, Their voice and my words, etching into my soul, allowing it to be free.

I have carried their line and stories, carved like the inky stamp of tattoo on my skin, flowing through my veins spread out as branches, like a living, breathing thing.

We have paved paths overgrown by the burdensome sprouting of weeds of hatred, Like a poison spreading throughout this flower bed.

Let our words blossom, let them bloom and flourish.

To take hold among the cavernous stars that burn bright and shimmer with our wishes.

And of their spirits above, guiding the way.

A Question of Our Power

By Cookeyed.

The power to change is like a fickle light expressed through this long tunnel of humanity through time, life, labour and realities. However, we should understand that we are on the shoulders of giants who did drive change, dreamers, believers, disrupters and changers by making the 1% hurt.

Its so easy to trust that everything is going to be all right, but driving human social change is one thing the 1% does not have. The line is not going to go up forever and what happens when the 1% leave us behind?

Will they go into their vaults or get even more consumed with destroying labour with AI? Do we struggle or do we work together to find deeper meaning in our power?

The Irish state was created on Socialism, and the fighting Irish stereotype exists for a reason, yet we are so far from that now even if it was only just over a hundred years ago. For example, George Boole’s youngest daughter, Ethel Voynich, was a writer and revolutionary whose influence is wider than you think. (Massive influence on both China’s and Russia’s armies at the turn of the century). We have power we always did.

Bella Ciao, unknown creator

The stupid fact is that the United States of America and Ireland were great when unions & their governments were strong in the 60s. In many sense, we are more slaves now than we were back then. The fact is that the 1% are scared of Luigi, they are scared that we will find our power and that we will end up overturning the 1%. What they are doing is distracting us, like they have been for the past 60 years.

The power of the 99% is ending empires, fighting kings, and dealing with Nazis.

Our power is standing for the weak.

We stand for our power and thus we are no longer asleep.

So do not lose hope!

If the 99% stand we will get engaged and we will drive change.

(I will leave you with this song to rally you - *bows*)

One morning I woke up O bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao ciao ciao One morning I woke up And I found the invader Oh partisan, carry me away, O bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao ciao ciao Oh partisan, carry me away, For I feel I’m dying.

And if I die as a partisan O bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao ciao ciao And if I die as a partisan You have to bury me.

But bury me up in the mountain O bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao ciao ciao But bury me up in the mountain Under the shadow of a beautiful flower.

And the people who will pass by O bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao ciao ciao And the people who will pass by Will say to me: “what a beautiful flower” This is the flower of the partisan O bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao ciao ciao This is the flower of the partisan Who died for freedom.

Being Born With A Vagina Does Not Mean You Get To Be A Girl - a story narrated by society, illustrated by me, a non-girl vagina owner.

When I was born, I came into this world with a vagina. I was a picture perfect baby, a tinie tiny dot with a head full of hair.

Picture Perfect Princess

So naturally it was presumed right away that I would take a career as a girl, and later progress on to being a woman.

I took my role as a girl very seriously in the beginning. I had the Baby Born doll, the play kitchen, and all of the most beautiful dresses. I knew young what I was supposed to do.

Chapter 2 Perfectly

Imperfect prince

When I was 4, I was introduced to a cousin and his friends and I was expected to do something I had never really done before. “Play soccer on the green with the lads”.

The “lads” would all run to the grass, kicking and screaming as if they were a stable horse put out into the fields for the first time. They would run and shout, chasing each other and chasing a ball, just like a dog playing fetch. They would jump and fall and tackle and slide. They would return home completely destroyed. The absolute horror.

Stripped of Dresses

to get dresses Idirty,neverfor liked fear I would my lovely little trump ruin dress. If I did, I would vaginas be a good little girl and

The years went by and by. As much as the world would reinforce the idea that I was better suited to the model of a boy, the vagina between my legs never ceased to confuse me…

cry until I was all cleaned up again.

Little did I know something awaited me on my path in life… something that would turn my whole entire world upside down… The Tracksuit Pants.

“Try these” they said… and, well, I did. And when I did, I ran and I kicked and I screamed and I shouted and I chased and I jumped and I fell and I tackled and I slid and I got completely destroyed.

But the absolute horror was still to come…

“Tom Boy” they said.

“It would suit you but you’d never wear it” they said as they threw out a dress. Suddenly I heard a gentle voice whispering from within my tracksuit pants, “challenge accepted” she said, for she secretly longed for the opportunity to feel the breeze o nly a woman or a Scottish man could know.

Chapter 4

stripped It wasn’t long before I realised my tracksuit of ticket to freedom and came at a titles comfort price.

At that age, I didn’t choose the Tom Boy life, the Tom Boy life chose me. I had to sacrifice all the titles that only girls can have - pretty, beautiful, bossy, bitchy, bubbly. In exchange I got to have some boy titles, not all cos I’m sans penis but I got some, such as funny, sharp, and strong. Later, I got an extra titled for my manly ways - dyke.

Freddie Phipps

I had to step back from being a girl, I was a “Tom Boy” now. For those who don’t know, this is essentially where you are a boy, sans penis.

I rose to the challenge, I donned the dress and as quickly as I realised to be treated like a girl, you have to walk, talk, act and dress like one… I also realised that taking off the dress on s tage turns you from a girl to a sort of goddess in a matter of seconds. Something I never dreamed I’d get to be.

vaginas trump titles During the days I was a boy, during the nights I was a g oddess. I could have the best of both worlds, I could be funny and sexy. I could be anything I wanted. I could break the mould.

Blow the roof right off. Nothing could stop me now. Nothing or no one could tell me what I am or who I am anymore.

Or so I thought.

Girl, boy, it never really mattered. I have a vagina. The world has forever had ownership o ver me and my identity and my body. Nothing will remind you of a ll of that like a man taking you against your will, as if he owns you.

So I decided the safety of my vagina trumped the title of a goddess. Back in my box I went. “ You can call me Boydyke. Tom Boydyke.” I said…

unattainable Over the years I can’t help but feel like I’ve come to both highly respect and despise the concept of “being a girl”.

Like fair fucks to the women who can be bothered to keep up the exhausting work of being a girl because it is exhausting and this world will not treat you like a girl simply for having a vagina. You have to do the hair and the make up and you have to have a certain body and you have to play a certain role. And it’s not just exhausting, it’s expensive. Especially because in todays world you can’t actually be born as the perfect princess, you have to go to page 3 and buy the lips and the cheeks and the bum and the boobs and all of that which we used to grow ourselves we now have to buy and if we dare not to buy into this perfect look we are witches and hippies, outcasts unkept and wild in our womanhood.

As much as I think holy fuck, it’s amazing the amount of work girls put in to achieve the standards set by society, I’m also crying out for it all to stop because nobody should have to work so hard to be treated well, just to be told we’re the ones accountable when the way we have to look puts us in danger.

So those out there who wish to be seen and treated “like a girl” but can’t be bothered with the look or can’t afford to buy the look, are not being treated the same as those who have the time and money and sometimes passion to keep up with the Kardashian’s.

And the ones that do are vilified for it anyway.

Girls like pink. Boys like blue. Girls are pretty. Boys are strong.

Girls don’t get messy. Boys don’t cry. Girls go in this box. Boys go in this one.

And people wonder why some folks don’t identify as male or female?

It’s unattainable. For everyone. Female. Male. Everyone in between.

Everyone on the outskirts.

It’s unattainable.

The tain cannot be abled.

IT’S UNATTAINABLE. Innie peace, peace outie

If wearing make up and dresses makes me a girl? What does owning a vagina do? Does it just mean I’m an innie and not an outie?

Yano I think we should be looking at genitals like bellybuttons…

My personality and identity and beauty and the way in which society treats me should have absolutely nothing to do with whether I have an innie or an outie or both.

Again… Your personality, and identity, and beauty, and the way in which society treats you, should have absolutely nothing to do with whether you have an innie or an outie or both.

Being Born With A Vagina Does Not Mean You Get To Be A Girl - a story narrated by society, illustrated by me, a non-girl vagina owner.

17:23

Our Power playlist UCC Global Justice Society 7,580 saves - 46h 44m

C.E.A.R.T.A Song • KNEECAP

HIND’S HALL Song • Macklemore

Viva La Vida Song • Coldplay

Paper Planes Song • M.I.A

5G

BREATH OF Your spark covers their town in flame Your pride lowers their heads in shame

Your laughter makes the ground shake Your footsteps cause the faults to break Your tears of joy cause their streets to flood Your smile boils the bad guy's blood

Your love causes their pawns to fall Your colours spread across their wall

Your touch makes lava erupt Your kiss cures the once corrupt Your eyes turn their hearts to stone Your strut leaves them nothing but bone

ANARCHY

Prodigals

By Fionn Ó Domhnaill

What happened to the cobbler’s children?

Of the many and many he did christen.

To what ends did they hail Miserable all I’d say When he was thrown up in Gaol.

Rakes of illegitimate son and daughters All streamin’ in from the bleedin’ rafters, Carving up his estate Grabbin’ nothing they earned Yer lineage’s a state.

The eldest, who’d have thought it, has died And he went out in a pure violent tide.

Shootin’ coppers in the street St. Provo showin’ him up Red and Green can’t compete.

And the youngest all lost in his runnin’ Living in his father’s words without the doin’.

To posture and prance, It’ll surely do ‘em Make it all song and dance.

The mid-child, as always, forgotten Retired bookkeep in a city foul rotten.

And his only real spawn Stuck in shaggin’ West Meath Puts an oak in his palm.

And none of them are even on the lookout And god forbid the lords’ doors are kept lockout.

There’s hardly red in your custard, Cause they shot the poor aul’ bastard When he couldn’t even stand.

UCC Global Justice Society Committee 2024/25 Name

Position

Freddie Phipps

Co-Chair

Hannah Morrissey

Co-Chair

Rachel Walsh

Secretary

Sinead Marie Hogan PRO Cormac D Aughton

Webmaster

Louiza Evy Lena Bendz

Events Officer

Shalini Sheyshkar

Financial Officer

Daniela Bendikova

Publications Officer

David Brennan

Welfare and Accessibility Officer

Name

Position

Cornelia Hauch Skovmand

Environmental Officer

Ben Campbell

Campaigns Officer

Amy O Brien

1st Year Representative

Aamna Rahil Shaikh

PostgradStudent / Mature Representative

Rebecca Julia Bourke

Ex-Officio

Gary Robinson

OCM

Joan Murphy-Leane

OCM

Mohammad Ahmed Naeem

OCM

Sarah Maugis

OCM

To: Global Justice Members We would like to thank all of our members for allowing Global Justice to thrive this year!

By engaging with our events and our social media, you have helped to create a community that is supportive and does immense work for justice.

The theme of Our Power is meant to reflect your contributions towards global justice and freedom.

We appreciate you and will continue to provide a safe space for you to engage with global justice issues.

With love and newfound power, Publications Officer, Daniela Bendikova (On behalf of the Global Justice Committee of 2024/2025)

Designed and edited by Daniela Bendikova & Hannah Morrissey

UCC Global Justice Society