What the F: Issue 16

University of Michigan

February 2019

WHAT THE F Your Irregular Periodical Issue 16

Staff Paige Wilson

President

Lia Baldori Ally Owens Maria Marginean Maya Reyes Tessa Rose Sona Raju Anjali Vaishnav Cielle Waters-Umfleet

Editor-In-Chief Assistant Editor Website Editor Staff Writer Staff Writer Staff Writer Staff Writer Staff Writer

Anna Herscher Elizabeth Feldbruegge Kate Johnson Maggie McConnell Ariana Shaw Jessica Burkle

Art Director Assistant Art Director Staff Artist Staff Artist Staff Artist Staff Artist

Srishti Gupta Lindsay Calka Emily Cutting Kendall Lauber

Design Manager Designer Designer Designer

Emily Spilman Caylin Luebeck Sophia Jacobs Katie Slajus Jessica Jamaica Madison Murdoch

Campus Coordinator Events Director Events Coordinator Events Coordinator Events Coordinator Events Coordinator

Chase Chapman Lindsey Hentschel Caroline Slack Willa Hart Mia McCrumb

Finance Director Finance Staff Finance Staff Finance Staff Finance Staff

Adriana Kusmierczyk Alexandra Niforos JJ Wright

Social Media Coordinator Social Media Staff Social Media Staff

What the F

is a non-partisan, non-profit publication operated by students at the University of Michigan. What the F’s purpose is to encourage discussion on significant issues of campus, national, and world interest. The magazine, the executive board, and our sponsors do not endorse the ideas presented by the writers. We do, however, support and encourage different ideas in our community and in campus discussion.

February 2019 Issue 16

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FUNNY, FRESH, FEMINIST, FIERCE, & FUCK Keep the conversation going! whatthefmagazine.com WhatTheFMag.tumblr.com WhatTheFMagazine WhatTheFMag WhatTheFMag

Letter from the Editor Shit I’m Afraid to Ask My Doctor The Facts About Planned Parenthood An Empirical Study on Masculinity India’s Hidden Gender Retales II: Fuck Romance and Struggle, Just Get a Sugar Daddy We/Us The Paradox of Pretty Privilege Not Like Other Girls The Brief Wonderous Doing of Maschismo Everywhere Is It Britney, Bitch?

Treat You Better Darkroom Tell Me Yours Credits

Letter from the Editor Welcome to What The F, your feminist periodical!

Here’s Issue 16! Just in time to shake your midwinter blues. Or at least curb them a little. This part of the year is hard on the Midwest.

For those of you who don’t keep up with our social media — and really, you should get on that — for this issue, we placed a focus on gender. More specifically, experiences based on different gender identities. Despite the fact that empowering everyone is inherent to the idea of feminism, often the movement is inaccurately portrayed as a “cis woman thing.” This preconceived notion not only exclusive to non-binary individuals; it also fosters barriers rather than bridges between marginalized communities.

Ideally, everyone here at What the F would shy away from declaring gender as the “theme” of this issue, as it would be easy to misconstrue that as the celebration of the binary. However, we haven’t explicitly addressed this topic in the past, so we wanted to kick off the new year by breaking new ground.

In this issue, you can find “We/Us,” a poetic reflection on using they/them pronouns, on page 13.

Check out “The Brief Wondrous Undoing of Machismo Everywhere” (page 18) to read a firsthand account of machismo, a hypermasculine mentality that’s prevalent in Latinx culture.

Did you witness Britney Spears’s 2007 breakdown and find yourself wondering why a girl with “long, beautiful hair” would shave her head? See page 20 for Haley Mayes’s explanation.

(To clarify: of her own head-shaving, not Britney’s.)

And finally, because the entire month of February might as well be Valentine’s Day (or at least that’s how it works in my head,) I decided to commemorate the holiday with “Tell Me Yours,” a collection of anonymous sexual encounters. Flip to page 26 for a look at some of your fellow Victors’ first times. All are summed up in roughly twenty words or less, perfect for the short-circuited attention span of a college student.

Whether you got f*cked over, f*cked up, or just plain f*cked this month, my heart is with you.

XOXO!

Lia Baldori Editor-in-Chief

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by Cielle Waters-Umfleet Life’s too short to not be true to yourself, so let’s be real. We all have some part of ourselves we’re not comfortable with. (Mine’s my stomach, AKA the dining hall cookie jar.) We may pinch and poke and squint in the mirror, but rarely do our flaws overwhelm our senses of self. However, for about .6% of adults in the U.S., their external features don’t line up with their internal identity. That means roughly 1.5 million people may be diagnosed with gender dysphoria, a real psychological disorder in which one’s sex differs from one’s gender, causing distress and anxiety. This is more commonly known as being transgender.

There is no right way to be a certain gender, no standard of appearance or behavior. People can comfortably live as transgender even without changing their bodies. Still, many pursue medical options to feel more comfortable in their own skin. One of these is cross-sex or transgender hormone therapy, during which people take hormones from the opposite sex to alter their bodies to better match their identity. Most who choose to begin hormone treatments end up satisfied with their decision, and we’ll look at why.

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Feminizing Hormone Therapy: What it Does

Feminizing hormone therapy, as the name suggests, is the male-to-female version of the transition process. Trans women who have gone through mental health evaluations, counseling, and real-life experience and want to take the transition further can consult with their doctors to begin taking female hormones. This consultation will consist of a comprehensive physical and mental exam, including reviewing family history, lab testing, checking immunizations, and discussing one’s drug and alcohol use, among other routine physical tests. In addition, the doctor will talk about possible sperm-freezing methods for those who may want children later, and warn against methods of transitioning not overseen by a health professional, such as self-castration.

and muscles will atrophy. Fat will be redistributed, and breast development will begin. Finally, in the next six months, facial and body hair growth will slow. It may take up to three years to see the full results.

Following a medical examination, the first hormones prescribed are testosterone blockers. After six to eight weeks, estrogen is prescribed to begin feminizing the body. Some may be given progesterone to help with breast development as well. Within the first three months of treatment, libido and erections will decrease, and hair loss will slow. In the next three months, skin will become less oily, and testicles

Remember: if you are considering or pursuing hormone therapy, just like with any visit to a healthcare professional, your doctor should be willing to help you. No doctor should ever make you feel uncomfortable. If, during the transition process, you think your doctor isn’t listening to you, respecting you, or supporting you, it’s time to find a new one. Yeet!

During and after taking hormones, doctor check-ups are required about every three months. This will include recording all physical, mental, and hormonal changes.

Afterwards, trans women will begin the same routine screenings and healthcare procedures that biological females follow, such as breast cancer exams and supplemental vitamins. Trans women will still need to get prostate cancer screenings for the rest of their lives according to guidelines for biological men.

Masulinizing Hormone Therapy: What it Does Starting the masculinizing hormone process is pretty similar to the feminizing process in that it begins with a medical examination. The standards for that exam are effectively the same as for feminizing therapy, although tailored to a biologically female body. After that, testosterone is prescribed, and the changes begin. In the first two months of taking testosterone, the skin becomes more oily, and periods should stop. If periods continue, progesterone treatments may help. Secondary sex characteristics such as a deeper voice, increased facial and body hair, fat redistribution, and increased muscle mass show up within the first year of treatments. Scalp hair loss is a possibility too, but that can be treated with medication. Perhaps one of the most dramatic changes also occurs within the first year: The clitoris grows, while the vagina begins to shrink and close.

As with trans women, trans men also need to meet with their doctors for regular checkups during and after the process to document changes. Doctors will also look for signs of sleep apnea and repeated vaginal bleeding, which could mean bad news if left untreated. After taking testosterone, trans men will still need to have breast and cervical cancer screenings according to their age’s guidelines.

However, testosterone can interfere with cervical exams, for it causes cervical cells to thin, which appears abnormal in a lab. Once again, your doctor should always be there to help you, never to intimidate or ridicule you.

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RISK FACTORS

While hormone therapy may be a relieving transformation for some, it is not without certain side effects. To start, both sexes might be discouraged from taking hormones due to past medical problems. Hormone-sensitive cancers, such as prostate and breast cancer, would make taking additional hormones dangerous. Because hormone therapy can increase the risk of cardiovascular problems, if you’ve ever had deep-vein blood clots, treatment might be off the table for you. (The medical term for a blood clot is “thromboembolism,” which would be a really pretty word if it couldn’t kill you.) Also, transitioning to any degree can be mentally strenuous as people try to reconcile their outer and inner identities, so severe mental health problems may prevent you from being eligible for hormone therapy.

Once hormone therapy has started, the dangers for both MtF and FtM transitions overlap greatly. Both transitions affect fertility. Exposure to the opposite sex’s hormones can damage the functioning of ovaries and testicles. Even once a person stops taking hormones, reproductive function doesn’t always recover, even if a person’s reproductive system is intact. If a person pursuing hormone therapy wants the option of having children later, storing eggs and sperm may be a good bet. In addition, transitioning trans women may notice a decreased sex drive.

As mentioned earlier, hormone therapy can increase the chances of cardiovascular issues. Both transitions pose the risk of higher lipids (fats) in the blood, especially in transmen with polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS). High blood pressure, weight gain, and type 2 diabetes are also thrown into the mix, which, combined with preexisting cardiovascular risk factors in some people, can be dangerous. Trans women may then develop deep-vein blood clots, while trans men may overproduce red blood cells.

As for how they differ, MtF transitions also come with the risk of gallstones and high potassium, along with a condition known as hyperprolactinemia. (Once again, pretty word, bad disease.) This occurs when a tumor grows on the pituitary gland in your brain and then releases too much prolactin, a hormone that allows biological women to produce breast milk. All people can make prolactin, regardless of sex, and for biologically male bodies, prolactin can lead to unexplained breast growth and sometimes even milk production. For FtM transitions, some of the side effects are just side effects of being male: worsened acne and pattern baldness. Others are more serious, however, such as sleep apnea and higher liver function tests. Also, for those who already have manic or psychotic conditions, hormone therapy may deepen them. Once again, while mental health is always important, it’s critical during a time of such rapid change to continue checking in with a mental health professional.

Lastly, the side effect that no treatment can protect against is the social side effect. As heartbreaking and infuriating as it might be, in today’s world, many people still don’t fully understand and accept people who are transgender.

When ignorance comes from the mouths of family, friends, and coworkers, it can seriously strain relationships and be isolating. However, we at What The F promise that no matter how hopeless it may feel, there are always people who either understand your troubles or are willing to listen and empathize. How do I know? It’s because we’re here, and we want nothing more than to offer as much support as we can.

If you are struggling, please hold on. Somebody always cares.

Cross-sex hormone therapy is not the end of the line in terms of transitioning, nor is it necessary to assume a new identity. A fair proportion of transgender individuals go on to get cosmetic surgery or gender realignment surgery to further transform their bodies to fit their gender. Likewise, some people stop at real-life experience or hormone therapy because that is sufficient for them to feel comfortable in their bodies. No matter how far along in the transition process a person is, though, everyone is deserving of respect and a supportive community. The shape of your body does not define your gender; you do.

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An Empirical Study On Masculinity

by Maya Reyes There is so much to say about how men and women interact, and more often than not, the focal point of today’s discourse revolves around the negative aspects. And rightfully so. Gender discrimination in the workplace, sexual assault, and unequal representation are all phenomena we read about in the media that affect women in detrimental ways, and those are just the tip of the patriarchal iceberg. How do these problems manifest? How do the beliefs men hold transcend into physical aggression? Why are so many men, to put it lightly, unfair to women? This question is especially eyebrow-raising when some men claim to not even know that their behavior is inappropriate. I researched the patriarchy, from its start in boyhood to its most gruesome end, with hope that this knowledge could change the way parents raise their children to produce better men.

According to psychology professor Michael J. Carter’s theorization on gender socialization and identity, the patriarchy reinforces traditional gender roles that influence individual gender identities. Harboring a hyper-masculine identity prevents males from developing traits commonly associated with femininity such as empathy and compassion. Cultivating emotion-sharing and vulnerability is essential in diplomatic communication. In the paper Matriculating Masculinity: Understanding Undergraduate Men’s Precollege Gender Socialization, researchers Frank Harris and Shaun R. Harper conducted interviews with college men to 6

understand their pre college gender socialization, and in doing so examined the role of paternal figures in shaping masculinity. It was found that “poor help-seeking, social isolation, and a range of destructive acts among undergraduate men” (e.g., sexual assault and relationship abuse) are traceable back to problematic ways in which they were socialized prior to entering college.

Patriarchy literally means “rule of the father,” and in concordance with peer influence, it was found that fathers expected sons to express attitudes and behaviors that were consistent with traditional masculinity and rejected femininity.

Participants recalled memories from their childhoods, where their fathers would affirm traditional masculine behaviors like toughness, aggression, and emotional distance. “They received positive feedback from their fathers when they engaged in rough and competitive play, while acting and dressing in ways that were typically associated with girls were met with criticism. These findings are consistent with Harper’s (2004) assertion that “no father wants his son to grow up being a ‘pussy,’ ‘sissy,’ ‘punk,’ or ‘softy’—terms commonly associated with boys who fail to live up to the traditional standards of masculinities in America (Harris and Harper 2015).” Encouraging roughness and competition

preventing the expression of “softer” emotions restricts the type of behavior that aids in effective communication. In pursuit of rejecting feminine behavior, hyper masculine identities that harbor degradative outlooks on women can take shape.

In light of male dominance, hypermasculinity affects interactions with women and creates gendered sexuality. In Gendered Sexuality in Young Adulthood: Double Binds and Flawed Options, researchers Laura Hamilton and Elizabeth A. Armstrong interview college women and discuss embedded gender beliefs that influence interactions between men and women.

Women reported feeling disrespected by their male partners in college relationships, stigmatized if they engaged in sex, but lucky if they were able to find a man that wanted to commit to an exclusive relationship. These findings exemplify the unequal power dynamic between men and women in the direction of a relationship, which is normalized by our traditional views on gender roles.

A section of Armstrong and Hamilton’s findings displays that “heterosexual college women contend with public gender beliefs about female sexuality that reinforce male

dominance across both hookups and committed relationships.” They also detail how gender beliefs alter a woman’s perception of control in a relationship. “If women are made to feel lucky to have boyfriends, men are placed in a position of power, as presumably women should be grateful when they commit. Women's reports suggest that men attempted to use this power to regulate their participation in college life.” The research demonstrates how influential men are in deciding what women expect in relationships.

Women who participated in the study shared stories that hint at passive internalized misogyny physically displayed by male dominance in their lives over sex and relationships.

As research highlighted, there is a general theme of female subordination in college intimate relationships. These attitudes transcend those interactions and take the form of sexual assault.

These problematic attitudes pertaining to the differing spaces men and women occupy in rape culture are called rape myths. In Rape Myth Beliefs and Bystander Attitudes Among Incoming College Students, Sarah McMahon defines rape myths as "prejudicial, stereotyped, or false beliefs about rape, rape victims, and rapists," and as "attitudes and beliefs that are generally false yet widely and persistently held and that serve to deny and justify male sexual aggression against women.”

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nd er

d In

d d i e H n s Ge ’ ai

S by Ra ona

ju

Non-binary genders have existed in South Asian countries like India for thousands of years without the labels often used in Western countries. The hijra community in India is one that encompasses a set of these non-binary genders. There is no one definition of hijra, but those who identify are often intersex or transgender women. The term has ancient origins but over time those who identify by it have been pushed to the margins 8

of society out of ignorance and fear of change.

When I asked my friends of South Asian descent about this topic, I was surprised to see that most of them knew very little about the hijra community, if anything. This speaks to how marginalized and hidden the hijra are. There is a strong sense of shame surrounding hijras because they are viewed as unnatural for not adhering to the socially accepted gender binary.

Upon doing some research, I learned that hijras have not always been condemned to life in the shadows.

Until British colonization came to India, gender and sexuality were recognized as fluid and did not conform to the labels used in the Western world. In Hinduism, gods are often depicted with both male and female figures, with a balance of masculine and feminine aspects. Folklore describes hijras as having a special connection to the gods and remnants of this belief can be seen in the modern day as many still believe that they have magical powers. Hijras once had prominent role in society, but now they are only accepted in public life as a part of weddings and ceremonies for newborns, as they are thought to have the ability to bless people with fertility.

There is a strong sense of shame surrounding hijras because they are viewed as unnatural for not adhering to the socially accepted gender binary.

In the time of the Mughal empire in India, under Muslim rule, hijras also held powerful positions as advisors and protectors of the female royalty that were similar to the powerful roles that eunuchs held in many other ancient empires. Basic respect and even reverence for hijra individuals was a common thread throughout these ancient civilizations, where gender had no concrete limits. This changed when the British introduced laws criminalizing homosexuality and pushed a rigid gender binary, greatly altering India’s views on gender. The country’s understanding and acceptance of gender fluidity were in contrast with the western world’s rigid gender binary, and these laws were enacted to make India more similar to the West’s ideals.

Though the hijra community has been denied basic rights and protections by the government for decades, as laws are changing there is hope that greater protection and opportunity will be available to them. Two major points of progress have been made for the LGBTQ+ community in India in the last few years. In 2014, a group of activists brought a case to the Supreme Court that successfully caused the Indian government to recognize a “third gender,” thus ensuring that individuals have the legal right to identify as how they feel, and allowing individuals who do not identify as male or female to receive government assistance and protection.

This was a groundbreaking achievement and highlighted the power of grassroots movements, as the victory was the result of hardworking activists.

Secondly, in 2018, India ended the colonial-era criminalization of same-sex relationships, another major victory for the LGBTQ+ community. These changes will allow hundreds of thousands of people to live their lives authentically and will help the country become more accepting as a whole.

these laws made it harder for individuals to educate others about gender fluidity as it was now both stigmatized and illegal.

The misconception often made regarding these progressive changes is that India is becoming more modern and Western in its values. In reality, the country is getting rid of the restrictive and antiquated laws of colonial British rule and moving back to its roots. With the repeal of discriminatory laws, hijra individuals and all others who identify outside of the gender binary are finally gaining a chance at upward social mobility, and their place in society is no longer limited because of their gender identity.

The criminalization of hijra and transgender individuals forced them into hiding and out of the public eye. They were no longer able to hold typical jobs and were forced into begging and sex work to make ends meet. On a societal level, these laws made it harder for individuals to educate others about gender fluidity as it was now both stigmatized and illegal, hindering future generations from learning about these marginalized groups.

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Re-Tales II Fuck Romance and Struggle, Just Get a Sugar Daddy

by Ally Owens This Valentine’s Day, stop faking orgasms for college boys who won’t even buy you Chipotle, and start faking it for an AARP member who will transfer that coin into your direct deposit. That’s right, ladies. Romance is officially dead and sugar daddying is the new wave. Make sure to bring this article to light if I ever decide to run for public office.

Or at the very minimum, ensure that this is engraved on my tombstone. If I can even afford one.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, Ally. Sugar daddies?

In a feminist publication? Of course, sex work is real work, but are we just going to herald the subjugation to old, white men in a feminist magazine? Whatever happened to championing hard work and struggle? What happened to the goal of working-class women overturning the wealthy, white male power structure rather than just playing a (granted, lucrative) role within it? Look, working backto-back ten hour shifts immediately following final exams happened, and suddenly, radical feminist theory isn’t cutting it for me anymore (only kidding, <3 you feminism).

Yes, I might be partly biased in my remarks because I endured a hellish winter break working as a retail cashier where day in and day out I was yelled at by middle aged women over — you guessed it — panty sizes.

The gist of what I am trying to say is that whether or not you choose to participate in an “arrangement,” sugar daddying as a whole should not be as stigmatized as it is 10

considering the blind eye that our society turns towards other examples of people — specifically those who are not women — circumventing the system. Also, in our polarized economic state, the option of seeking arrangements remains one of the only and best solutions available for working class and poor individuals struggling to pay their bills.

Get a job, lazy libtard, and stop complaining!

Oh, conservative antagonist that lives inside my brain, you just don’t get it. It is a well-known fact that people cannot survive solely on retail wages, and yet we act as though “getting a job” is the universal solution to financial woes. What I find particularly hilarious is that the same people who suggest taking on one or two retail jobs to make ends meet are overwhelmingly the same people who receive checks from their parents that will ensure a comfortable existence (one where you don’t have to live in constant fear of that $7 burrito bowl breaking your bank account).

The idea of sponging off of your parents for foundational needs and essentials (rent, phone bill, gas, etc.) is consistently mislabeled as a widespread “Millennial” affliction, but this is false to say the very least. Its inaccuracy is rooted deeply in ignorance of the generational wealth gap: a measure of the disparities of median level of wealth between specific demographics. For the sake of the argument, I want to analyze the disparity between Black households and white households in America.

Studies show that the Black 99th percentile (also

identified by its more chantable name, the 1%) is worth only 1.5 million dollars, while their white counterparts are worth over 12 million dollars.

Fuck.

But a lot of black families today have high income? So, what gives? Well, for starters, income and wealth are two completely different things. To summarize, while income is rooted in the present, wealth is ultimately connected to the past. Wealth, a measure of your total assets (cash, retirement account, homes, property, other valuables, etc.), matters more in the long run than simple income because it is accumulated over time, and thus able to increase in value with each passing generation.

Take two people: both are paid identical salaries of $150,000/year. One is black, one is white.

Most likely, despite their identical wages, the white will be better off because of the greater chance of wealth accumulation.

It all comes down to a head start.

As a result of over a century’s (and more if you count the period when Blacks were considered equal to furniture) worth of systemic barriers to wealth acquisition and general oppression, the large majority of Black families were not able to begin the process of wealth accumulation until the 1960s. Yes, when our grandparents were in their 20s and 30s. Thus, the idea of having tuition, loans, rent, or any large expense be 11

So can we keep the same energy for sugar babies? It is “just a gift,” at the end of the day.

Why are some people allowed to enjoy luxuries on someone else’s dime, but others are vilified for it? Sugar babies, or benefactresses, are often called lazy gold diggers, but are they any less lazy than the myriad of trust fund babies living in Manhattan passing off a nepotistic “job” as a career? Should sugar babies be chastised for wising up and cheating the system in the same way that other people’s families allow them to? “taken care of” by parents or wealthy grandparents is a foreign concept to many Black Millennials, who either have to give back their families (decreasing their own chances for wealth accumulation) or are forced into financial independence much earlier than their upper class white counterparts.

But, it’s their family? How does taking money from relatives equate to laziness? They’re not supposed to accept a gift from their family?

Oh, hey conservative inner monologue! Back so soon? Great point. Too bad you weren’t listening to me lamenting the game and not the player.

I’m not mad at individuals for simply coming from wealthy families (unless they spam my Instagram with photos pretending to be a native Manhattanite when they have been there for 3 months.) Rather, I am mad at the system that racism has ultimately created, and furthermore, at the perpetuation of such a system through willful ignorance of what is happening to others.

Also, to your point, if they opt not to work and simply live off of their parents’ support, the only thing I can do is admit jealousy because, after all, it is a gift.

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If you take anything away from this rant, let it be that Ally Owens supports sugar babies. Secure that bag, sis. However, I hope this essay inspires you to take a look at our larger landscape, wherein the wealth gap has created a reality where young women of color are increasingly forced to turn to sugar babying as an option to keep them afloat between retail shifts in order to have a sliver of the same security that the white population does. Also, fuck retail.

We/US

by Marlon Rajan

When you refer to me, you refer to us, The royal ‘we,’ the royal ‘me,’ The facets of our existence gleaming and glittering Like the flat edges of cut diamonds, of quartz, Of precious metals and stones, the heaviest of crown jewels confounded by our geometric eccentricities And yet you ask us why we are they, Holding the raw, the pulsing, the bleeding, The fracturable, You polish the side that’s already worn and ask us where— as if we hadn’t asked you to look closer, As if you weren’t the jeweler with the loupe in his eye and his grip around Us, you ask why we are they As if you should be afraid, As if you’re the one shaking and crying with Confusion and questions, Each movement a synchronization of refraction and reflection, The rainbows glinting off the walls nearly blinding, As if we don’t wish that we weren’t winding, finding More each time we look around, Take more time to see the ‘we’ in ‘me,’ And give a shine to our forgotten brilliance.

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The paradox of pretty privilege

by Tessa Rose

This isn’t what you think. It’s not about appointing myself with a flattering title based on my physical appearance. Really, it’s about the complete opposite. It’s about existing through the world pinned to the trivial consequences of a so-called “pretty” appearance. An appearance that defines my momentary interactions with other people, materializes biases around perceptions of my capability, and spotlights my fuckability potential—a screaming proclamation of my value to a world that capitalizes off of female sexualization.

It is a misconception to think that people conventionally perceived as “pretty” live happy, carefree lives bursting with opportunity and potential. It is valid that certain employment prejudices often privilege eurocentric cisappearing people and associate them with confidence and capability, but people also carry biases towards “pretty” women as entitled or narcissistic, eliminating sympathy when they are abused or mistreated. Exhibit A being rape culture, that labels the “pretty” woman as promiscuous and by extension, deserving of rape. Because of this, I struggle to fully accept prettiness as a privilege or a shield from oppression and mistreatment. I think it is further

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invalid to claim that only “pretty” women are sexualized or objectified when attractiveness is a subjective concept and, therefore, opening the potential for any woman to be sexualized and degraded. “Pretty privilege” is a very nuanced concept that varies from woman to woman.

In her book Redefining Realness, transgender rights activist, Janet Mock first used the term to describe the positive treatment and attention she received for her attractiveness after hormone therapy. But my background with “pretty privilege” has influenced my journey far differently. To me, our stories—Me: the white, slim but curvy, straight-passing, cis-woman, and Mock: a black, transgender woman fitting a size 8, prove how prettiness can be just as disadvantageous as it is a “privilege.”

In her article, “Unfuckable Me,” Grunthus Grumpus of agentsoflshq.com writes, “One of the more boring qualities of girlhood is that the desire you experience is predicated on the desire you produce,” and I agree. I had no cognition of whether or not I was “attractive” or “desirable” until men told me I was. It started with the boys who began spreading rumors that my breasts were fake in sixth grade because other girls my

age had not reached physical maturity yet. Later the football players made a chant dedicated to the “hotness” of my body, and further on as a sophomore in high school, an upperclassman douchebag told me he couldn’t believe a girl could have “such a thin waist and such a big ass.”

But these sexualized appraisals of my body only added fuel to the fire of my confusion and selfloathing for my physical appearance. For the longest time, my dark patches of hair and my dramatically un-American last name endowed to me by my Middle Eastern heritage were parts of myself I wanted to shadow. The curves and ass that men told me I should be fond of because that’s what “men like to see on a girl” felt foreign to me and at most times, disgusting.

My insecurity about my body and ethnic identity left me susceptible to the judgement of others.

Eventually, my self-worth felt tethered to the male competition, flirtation and baudy remarks that designated the behavioral playing field of growing up in our binaried system. At times I felt like I was a passive object waiting for male approval, rather than an autonomous being capable of determining my own value.

However, as I progressed into high school, my stubborn personality never allowed me to fully accept male-appointed “privileges.” Men wanted the condition of my beauty to be tied to something they could contain and possess. But I have never and will never submit to bullshit standards impressed upon me. Erasing my femininity became a method of avoidance from the feminized fantasies that men craved from me. I acquired a strong aversion to the color pink and the liquid foundation I would plaster my face with every morning, because it was a reminder of what men wanted from me. Black became my favorite color in highschool and has been ever since. Black shields me, mystifies me, and desexualizes me, erasing parts of myself so

that I can recreate my own set of standards for how I should appear, act and exist.

This outlines my dilemma of desirability as a feminist: Do I purposely embody what is delegated by men and media as “unattractive” out of rebellion, or do I recognize every part of myself as attractive as a counter statement?

The petty, sexually-charged “attention” men gave me drilled a vacant hole of empty confidence into my already impressionable closet of selfdoubt. The eyes and flirtatious prevarications of men mapped my sexual and personal growth throughout girlhood, rather than promoting my growth as an intelligent, capable and entirely autonomous human being. I have yet to confidently say that I am fully healed or freed from the desirability standards impressed upon me, but I can confidently say that I am learning and growing to instill mantras of self-love that don’t revolve around appealing to anyone’s else’s expectations. I am not a walking piece of flesh and ass. I am a living, breathing, thinking human being, and I will never stop demanding to be treated as such.

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NOT L

ast summer, I learned about “he/him lesbians” for the first time after seeing queer girls on Twitter joke that their favorite boy band members are actually he/him lesbians. A quick Google search informed me that he/him lesbians are cisgender gay women who use male pronouns because they have a “butch” gender expression.

Because they feel alienated from other women in society, they feel a stronger connection with masculinity.

This wasn’t the first time I had heard of someone’s pronouns not matching their gender identity.

Musician Big Freedia is a cis man who uses female pronouns and has a feminine gender expression.

She explained to OffBeat magazine in 2011 that even though she is “not transgendered… just a gay male,” she uses female pronouns because she wants to define her pronouns with her gender expression, not her gender identity. This topic is the focus of the queer classic Stone Butch Blues, a novel by Leslie Feinberg featuring a protagonist who straddles the lines between a butch lesbian and a trans man because she can’t reconcile these two parts of who she is.

I was struck by how an individual’s sexual orientation can cause them to feel alienated from their own gender. Learning about this conflict made me reflect on my own experience as a gender-conforming woman.

I was one of those girls who thought “I’m not like other girls” in middle school. I felt “cooler” and “smarter” because I didn’t care about going shopping or wearing makeup. In high school I (thankfully) grew up and realized there were

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Like Other Girls: When Gender Identity & Pronouns don’t align

by Ana Lucena plenty of girls who were like me, but also enjoyed “typical girly things.” However, this realization did not stop me from feeling different from other girls.

By the time I got to college, I began to question my gender. I assumed that my feeling of alienation came from my gender identity.

stylish enough. I began to feel like I was somehow developing wrong. I thought I was crazy for hating art that was supposedly made for me, or for brushing off threats to my future marriage, especially when my mom says her wedding day was the happiest day of her life.

I asked agender friends who were assigned female at birth how they know they’re agender, and they told me that the mere thought of being mistaken for a woman by a stranger on the street was seriously upsetting to them. This made me realize that my inner femininity is part of who I am. I feel safe and understood when I’m in groups with other girls because we have the same concerns, like being scared of walking around campus late at night, or appreciating things that are pretty and elegant. While these things alone don’t define being a woman, they are essential to my own worldview and how I see myself. Why, then, did I question whether I was a girl?

What helped me understand myself was reading the essay “Compulsory Heterosexuality and Lesbian Existence” by Adrienne Rich, where the lesbian scholar argues that womanhood is defined by relationships with men, and so it’s impossible to be express being a woman without being straight. Thanks to the essay, I realized how much media for girls is heterosexualized, which is why I felt estranged from my own gender. The way I feel feminine internally and in tune with how people treat me as a woman externally, for me, confirms I’m cisgender. It’s sad that preconceived notions about what it means to be gay made me feel ostracized. My experience as a femme lesbian parallels that of butch girls like the ones who use he/him pronouns, and shows that it’s impossible to look unambiguously gay in society’s eyes.

For starters, because of my lack of interest in men.

Boy bands, chick lit, chick flicks, etc. only gave me nausea. When I was twelve I felt excluded as other girls fawned over Taylor Lautner or Channing Tatum, two “crushworthy” men who were of zero interest to me. Seeing girls start to become committed followers of the whiny Justin Bieber and the derivative Nicholas Sparks also made me feel kinda gay – I just couldn’t bring myself to care for half a second about the wooden interactions between cardboard cutouts that were supposed to be my romantic aspirations as young girl.

Furthermore, my mom warns me that I won’t ever get a husband if I’m not delicate/sensitive/

Regardless of societal labels, complicated experiences with gender are valuable to understanding how our identities intersect and shape who we are. It’s exciting to see language evolve to better express ourselves and tackle the heteronormativity ingrained into our understanding of gender. Even though gender is confusing and intangible, I’m happy more people are sharing their experiences in an effort to love themselves for who they are.

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The Brief Wondrous Undoing of Machismo Everywhere

by Oscar Martinez This is an ode to the Latino1 men who struggled to fit into an over-normalized trope of being a machista, a trope which has been lauded by fellow Latino men as the pinnacle of masculinity.

The phenomenon of machismo is self-contradictory to its affected population. Rooted in the cross-cultural mindset of sexism and gendered power dynamics, machismo is a catch-all “ism” word for the men who feel an innate need to parade their masculine traits while also degrading their female peers and punishing anyone who falls outside of their binary definition of what it means to be a man or woman. The Latino male chauvinist, if you will.

If anyone can summarize the nuances and complexities of machismo and hyper-masculinity in Latino identity while still putting it in uniquely eloquent prose, it’s Dominican writer Junot Diaz. Diaz’s novel, The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, tells the story of an unassuming hero, Oscar de Leon, and his plight into manhood through his college years with all odds against him.

He’s romantically awkward, noticeably overweight, academically sub-par, and a fantastic geek for all things geeky. When put side-by-side to Yunior, the supporting character whose habits of romantic infidelity, chiseled physical features, and transient relationships with extremely attractive women paint the ideal macho Latino man, it is laughable to consider these two best friends throughout the story. Oscar de Leon represents everything the machista is not and, when I first read this novel, he served as a framework for success in accepting yourself despite the

Essentially, machismo sets men up to feel bad about themselves for not meeting the imagined requirements for what it means to be an ideal Latino. It is yet another entity over which to develop insecurities, perpetuate self-loathing, and demoralize anyone who cannot reach its ambiguous degree of acceptance among other men. The dangerous part about this is that it permeates both men and women when taught early. Women will often fall into the trap that overly aggressive men are normal and should be expected to lash out in social and domestic settings.

Machismo breeds domestic abusers and rapists when left unchecked. Because Latinx households are typically patriarchal, sons are prioritized over daughters in almost all aspects to an alarming extent. Daughters are expected to set the table, clean the bathroom, or get groceries while sons are hardly ever asked to deal with such matters. When this spoiling goes on for too long, the outcomes yielded are men who demand their partners to deal with all things household-related, while they take care of everything physically taxing and financially related. In some cases, machista

I’m going to use Latino, Latina, and Latinx very carefully. Latinx is the non-gendered version of Latino and Latina, but there is no consensus on whether Latinx is the most inclusive or correct term. Because I’m speaking on behalf of straight Latino men, most of whom are not genderqueer, ‘Latino’ will be the most prevalent term, while I applied Latinx to situations that call for a more inclusive term.

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expectations of other Latinos. My junior year English class in high school introduced Oscar Wao to me at a time when pubescence was approaching its zenith, and what better time to redefine my entire concept of what it means to be a Latino than the point at which developing teenage boys are confused the most? It was a shell-shocking combination, but nonetheless a necessary one for my own self-awareness as a straight Latino man.

men will even find it threatening if their spouses are additional source of income.

When I was a sophomore in high school, my dad asked me if I was gay because I didn't have a girlfriend yet. I wasn't one to shy away from telling my parents about my personal life, but I usually kept romantic business strictly to myself. Most fathers would applaud their pubescent sons on any romantic conquista they made, but because my dad didn’t strongly carry this hyper-masculine trait that so many other Latino dads did, I never initiated those kinds of conversations. In retrospect, it was likely the pressures from relatives and colleagues that probed him about why his only son didn’t have any novias yet. It just goes to show that the standards to which Latino men are held are transitive across every Latinx family member or friend, not just the men themselves.

The idiosyncrasies of Latino family gatherings are not to be overlooked when talking about machista culture, as they play a large role in the fate of your overall acceptance in the family. With our innumerable cousins and uncles and aunts and siblings twice removed, Latinx culture is notoriously family-oriented. With those large numbers comes even larger pressures at family reunions and parties (Latinos will find any reason to conglomerate and revel) for us to update our tias and tios with every aspect of our lives. These convivial gatherings define an extended family’s dynamic through the memories and interactions they experience collectively.

Machista norms and values extend beyond individual households.

I’ve seen a few Twitter threads via Mexican Twitter specifically on whether a woman should be serving her presumably male partner a plate of food at social gatherings. There are always proponents on both sides for this rather trivial and undeniably sexist argument. I mean, really? People are losing sleep over the fact that, yes, there are women who refuse to fetch their boyfriends, husbands, male partners, etc. a plate of food from the spreads at family reunions. Shocking, but they exist. I can assure all ablebodied Latino men that we don’t need to blatantly perpetuate sexist gender roles of older generations; we’re more than capable of using our hands to serve ourselves.

So as it stands, the machista trope among Latinos is as confusing as it is restrictive: provide everything, ask for no help, dress like this, drink this, eat that, respect some people, belittle others, fall out of line and you’ve failed at being man. Although these pressures put Latino men into a bottleneck of what is acceptable for us and what is not, the way you choose to accept or deny these norms determines whether you will be condemned by them. For me, choosing to reject some of those binary ‘guidelines’ was an opportunity of freedom and an outlet for individuality.

and of course the bedroom, but that’s beside the point). Oscar de Leon knew this too. In spite of all his geeky affinities and awkward tendencies around any and every girl, his romanticism drives every fiber of his being in unconventional ways. From his prepubescent days, de Leon had been the first kid in his whole neighborhood who could dance and practiced it at every opportunity with his “girlfriends galore.” Oscar planted the seeds to his personality traits that would lead him to become an unassumingly masculinein-his-own-sense hero by his unconventional displays of romance and uniquely un-machista interests.

Developing brief yet deep crushes on girls he’d simply pass by on the train or on the street, de Leon’s love of love is both a source of neverending heartbreak and a surprising testament to his masculinity. Gatekeeping masculinity and straightness is the mission of machistas everywhere, but Oscar de Leon does away with those constructs and follows his own path to manhood. Ever since reading this novel in high school, I still find Oscar’s defiance of machismo uplifting and promising; the lifelong struggle that Oscar de Leon endures in his quest for genuine romance without conceding to hyper-masculine tendencies is an accomplishment in itself. This character is one of the reasons why I continue to follow my own definitions of how a man should look, act, or dress in spite of the implicit standards set for Latinos.

One of my favorite parts about being a Latino on campus is the opportunity to express aspects of my culture with other people and learn from those who are different from me. With that privilege, I’m not using my voice to denounce my culture. Rather, my goal is to foster acceptance of the men who dismantle the expectations of Latino masculinity so that both masculinity and femininity are seen as equals instead of one over another. In Latinx families, there is plenty of unending love and support from family members that seem to number the stars. Furthermore, our universal hospitality to anybody, relative or not, are the traits of which I am truly proud in Latinx culture. If we are to progress this accepting culture, that same support and hospitality should be reciprocated beyond the surface of family dynamics and into the realm of breaking down expectations of masculinity, femininity, expressions of gender and sex, and anything else outside of the traditional Latinx family’s purview. These types of cultural shifts are by no means an easy feat, but anti-machista role models like Oscar de Leon have begun to spearhead a change in the expectations set for Latinx gender expression.

Dancing is, perhaps, the one equalizing factor between the sexes in Latinx culture. A man who can dance is, in fact, perceived as more masculine and likewise a woman who can dance is perceived as more feminine. By the time middle school hit, all the girls knew how to dance to bachata, cumbia, merengue, and banda already, which just made their male partners look like stiff mannequins on the dance floor. It was during that epoch when I began to ask my parents for dance lessons. Since I didn’t really inherit my dad’s universal charisma nor my mom’s impeccable looks, I knew I should at least make an effort to take on after their dancing skills. In turn, this unisex trait was the gateway to appreciate the feminine side for what it had to teach men. Not only that, but this was necessary to learn how to respect femininity in its entirety.

Being romantic and still maintaining your macho-man card in the machista’s eyes was best accomplished on the dancefloor (this,

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What The F wants to feature some amazing feminists on campus on our Instagram and other social media accounts!

Nominate here!

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Is It Britney, Bitch?

by Haley Mayes

My friends’ reactions to “I’m going to shave my head” varied, though most were less than ecstatic.

They ranged from the trying-to-be-supportive: a cringe followed by, “Are you sure?”

To the cliché: “Oh you’re joking, like you're having a Britney moment?”

To the threatening: “If you cut your hair, I'm voting Trump in for a second term.”

All of these reflected the same thought: shaving her head is the wildest thing a woman can do.

Good golly, she really must be losing it if she is willing to render herself heinous, isn't she?

'Tis a sign of true and pitiful distress that I have rid myself of my womanhood. People still can't believe it; students at my old high school ask my sister if I'm gay now, looking for some kind of explanation. My long hair was inextricably linked to my social identity as a straight, cisgender woman, but also to my personal

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identity—how could Haley Mayes be the same Haley Mayes if she looks different?

While it is one of the most cliché things a college girl and Ann Arborite can do, I didn't buzz my head for attention, or because I was Going Through It™. I did it ~for me~. There were three major factors in my decision, which I have rehearsed to recite when everyone and their mother inevitably asks.

First and most importantly, eating outside got on my last damn nerve. Never again will I gag on my own hair while trying to enjoy my nachos on the sidewalk at Ann Arbor Brewing Company.

Second, maintenance was too much work for my lazy ass. I know people dyed and fried their hair to get the straight, glossy strands I popped out of the womb with, but doing anything with mine felt like too high input with too little reward. Taking care of and styling my old hair wasn’t as important to me as my time, money and energy.

Third, I didn’t feel like investing in my long locks because my hair seemed separate from myself. It was my most complimented feature, even while other aspects of my appearance have been made fun of. After years of laughing off comments about my big forehead, buck teeth, and flat chest, I began to believe: “I look like a gutter witch, but at least I have the locks of an elven princess.” Maybe I wasn't pretty, but my hair was, and I had that to hide behind. I don't think I need to go into a full blown “everyone is beautiful” rant to illustrate why that thought process was foolish. The truth is, I genuinely like the way I look, and if others cannot appreciate that, it's their loss and does not reflect my character whatsoever.

Taking the clippers to my head and stripping myself of my security blanket forced me to embrace my appearance and live the whole selflove thing. I feel so powerful. Not just because children grip their mothers’ hands a little tighter

as I pass, or because my peers kneel to kiss the ground I walk on, but because I don't have to think about whether or not I am worthy of the “beautiful” label that was assigned to me because of what was on my head.

The fistful of two-foot-long brown hair that my girl Ashley at the Aveda Institute chopped off was a much larger part of my identity in other people’s eyes than it was in my own. The buzz cut does a much better job reflecting the identity that I have always wanted: someone who doesn’t need validation from others to feel secure. I don't care how many people call me sir; I have gained so much confidence that my friends who were hesitant about my decision before have noticed. Even the friend who joked about me “having a Britney moment” told me, “You look so much more like you now,” and I couldn't agree more.

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by Aaron Berry “Shawn Mendes is gay. I know this because I once saw him in an interview where he crossed his legs at the knee, like there was no obstruction at his crotch. I also saw him doing queer stuff backstage with Camila Cabello and Taylor Swift: He used those talented hands to braid Camila’s hair close to her head. Taylor was making up his cheekbones with a demure and glittery violet. He’s really very beautiful.

Reminds me of Timotheé Chalamet, who is probably gay too. He played gay in that movie about the Italian summer.”

This is the kind of commentary that circulates around the softly masculine up-and-comers who are in the spotlight today. Moviegoers, music listeners, and entertainment consumers have historically speculated on the sexualities of their favorite celebrities. It makes sense — we are sold the personal experiences of these celebrities; listening to Justin Bieber singing about some anonymous girl he romances allows us to step into her anonymity and feel like we

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know Justin (SWOOSH). We are constantly sold a faux-privacy with our favorite figures, so it is not strange to explore the probability of them desiring that same privacy with us.

In fact, that dynamic is invited—an attractive performer expresses a desire to be loved, and the consumer is conveniently there to respond in their most vulnerable states: in their living rooms, bedrooms, movie theaters, the shower.

The consumption of art is a vulnerable, personal experience. This is a dynamic that has been around for a very long time, as evidenced by icons like Freddie Mercury, Prince, and David Bowie, ll of whom have been the scrutiny of the consuming public who desire their personalities, who had to resolve each of these men’s flamboyant stage personas with their own identities. A straight, male audience member in the 70s who adored Queen and idolized Freddie Mercury is presented with a displacement of his identity with which he must cope: if Mercury in his sparkly leotards is an idolized form of acceptable masculinity, then

the straight male is asked to accept that a straight man can wear sparkly leotards and diverge from a more traditional masculinity, or he could assert that Mercury must not be a normal man, that he must be queer, an indictment that has historically diminished a man’s masculinity.

In order to make sense of the jarring subversion of social norms, mainstream society often rushes to compartmentalize the things that may be difficult to understand initially into a familiar classification. The shift away from Toxic Masculinity to Soft is a cultural redefining of what it means to be a man. Toxic Masculinity is territorial and demands the subjugation of those around them. Men afflicted by it have to feel the most important, the most powerful. Soft Masculinity, however, discards such dependence on territory and creates valuations not based on power or sex, but on communicability. The Soft Masculine Man attempts to construct around him a good community in which to thrive, not by subjugation, but by the recognition of other people as different but not less than. Other people in his life and community can engage with him, and his learning something or becoming something new does not throw him into fury as it would the Toxic Masculinity: he accepts it and grows from it, processing the pain of losing his younger self. The Toxic Masculinity selfaggrandizes, self-mythologizes, his unchangeable youth. He does not want to change because every change is a death, a kind of failure that recognizes the mistakes the younger self has made. The Soft Masculinity accepts these changes as facts of life and proceeds to process them.

affair with his instructor’s 17-year-old son, Elio (Timothee Chalamet, “Beautiful Boy”). Their romance is set against the seemingly unreachable beauty of a euro-paradise. It is one of those stories that does what fame does: it seems far away, yet strangely recognizable, put before you for the purpose of dreaming.

Until my third viewing of the film, when the luster of Chalamet’s and Hammer’s well-defined bodies faded the way Beauty fades when you pick it apart, I had been completely entranced by the beauty and passion depicted within Elio and Oliver’s paradise. However, when I recognized that beauty as only scenery and not the meat of some philosophical question, the stars became simply their work and their actions, allowing me to focus more closely on how the dynamic between the characters affects the audience.

Obviously, Hammer’s character, Oliver, desires Elio, Chalamet’s character. In pursuit of the story, to justify Oliver’s actions (his affair with his instructor’s son), Elio has to be made utterly irresistible; viewers have to identify with Oliver, leading them to desire Elio as well and as fervently. To this end, Elio portrays a certain type of Soft Masculinity that is not aggressive, not about territory, and does not protrude out of him but allows for equal conversation, the way exploration is a conversation between explorer and the world that is explored.

With the first non-conformist gender presentations of the 70s, those revered masculine icons of Prince, Bowie, and Mercury set the scene for metrosexual 90s boy bands such as NSYNC and The Backstreet Boys. Up through In the past half-century, masculinity has been the 90s, speculations of sexuality were fended illustrated by a shift in popular media. Trailblazers off by homophobic compensation, mysterious like Mercury, Prince, and Bowie displayed new sexual precociousness, or by simple avoidance gender presentations that set ground for the of the issue. In times when homosexuality was rise of metrosexuality of the 90s and 2000s and still treated with mass hatred and violence, it have brought the rising presentations of Soft was necessary to distance one’s fashion sense Masculinity in just the past few years. Arguably and softer expressions from gay culture and one of the best films of 2017, Call Me By Your identity for the purpose of marketability. I say Name follows the story of an American doctoral this regardless of the performer’s actual sexual student, Oliver (Armie Hammer, “Sorry To orientation. This, instead, is an issue of image: Bother You”), who travels abroad to Italy as part the well-dressed man with good teeth and hair of a summer internship. Once there, he begins an 25

who sits in a certain manner would invariably have been pegged as queer. And now, with the rise of Rupaul’s Drag Race and gay culture beginning to take its place in the mainstream, it is no longer a necessity (or really appropriate) to vehemently deny any connection with the gay community. This, however, has allowed for rampant speculation based on outdated gender expectations.

Shawn Mendes, Timotheé Chalamet, Sam Smith, and each (former) member of One Direction are all representative of a new masculinity that is rising. Soft Masculinity finds its place in the #MeToo era as an image of comfortability and an attempt at equality of the genders based in mutual respect. I cannot speak to the actual characters of these celebrities, but their personas and their work push a new normal that I think is a step in the right direction. Just as Elio is desired by Oliver, Chalamet burst into popular culture as an object of youthful male beauty and fashion sense.

He has become a performer whose mainstream presence is tied to perceived vulnerability and sharp cheekbones. Similarly, Mendes has been objectified for his beauty as well as for his lyrics, which focus on the enchantment of love rather than his money, fame, or sex appeal.

It is the way Chalamet and Mendes display these “effeminate” traits that raises questions of where we place these icons on the spectrum of sexuality.

I will say this: it does not, and should not matter who these performers are attracted to. They should be valued for their work and their skill.

But it is true that society still speculates. We want to feel like we know these celebrities, and we try to do so by placing them into categories that are comprehensible to us. This resists progress. We must accept that playing gay in a film, or braiding your friend’s hair backstage before her set, or crossing one’s legs during an interview, carries no indication of a performer’s sexuality. We must accept that every person has a different conception of what it means to be who they are. To move forward, we must stop assuming.

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Darkroom

by Bradon Johnigan

In a darkroom I have choices to make.

Some people can break out their cameras and take a timeless photo. The single of their album, their masterpiece. They cherish this photo, showcasing it for all to see. They get it right the first time around, no need for hours of painstaking deliberation.

In a darkroom I have choices to make.

While the lights are on, I make the simple decisions. I’ll choose how much developer to pour into my tray, the ratio of stop bath, and the proportions of fix for my image.

These choices aren’t always easy.

My gender expression is a photo I’m still trying to shoot. With only an amber safelight to guide me, it’s harder to make a choice that represents myself and pleases everyone else.

In a darkroom I have choices to make.

Do I butch up? A look that keeps me safe. Dressing to accommodate others; not too flamboyant, blending in. A snapshot from my childhood pain. The still that matches my inhibitions. The state I’m most familiar with: hiding who I truly am.

In a darkroom I have choices to make.

Do I dare to look as femme as I want? An era of liberation. A snap from my adolescence. Adopting a side of me concealed by an abusive father. Living for the thrill of dyed hair, makeup, and jewelry.

In a darkroom I have choices to make.

Do I choose an image that would allow me to embrace the fluidity of my gender to the fullest?

Something a little more unpredictable, wild. Unafraid to be too butch or too femme, just existing.

I keep trying to capture this, but I can’t seem to get it fully in focus. I’m still learning to ignore the opinions of others, to disregard their need for consistency. I’m still learning to live unapologetically as myself.

Life is even harder than the darkroom.

Without the seclusion of the walls, I have to make these choices on the fly. I don’t have test prints; no redos. Choosing to show my true self around those who I consider close, but still afraid to be authentic to those unknown. Even though I can change my presentation, I cannot change who I am. I cannot change who I am.

In a darkroom I have choices to make.

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Tell Me Yours First times in 20 words or less.

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COVER

Darkroom

bathroom confessional

the paradox of pretty privilege

Shit I’m afraid to ask my doctor

not like other girls

The facts about planned parenthood

The Brief Wondrous Undoing of Machismo Everywhere

Art by Ariana Shaw

Art by Anna Herscher

Art by Ariana Shaw

Infographic by Perry O’Toole

An emprical piece on masculinity Art by Jessica Burkle

India’s Hidden Gender Art by Sharika Elahi

re-tales ii: Fuck Romance and Struggle, Just Get a Sugar Daddy

Art by Maggie McConnell

Art by Zuzanna Lutrzykowska

Art by Lily Sun

Art by Elizabeth Feldbruegge

is it britney, bitch?

Art by Miles Honey

Treat you better

Art by Kate Johnson

Art by Marjorie Gaber

Sponsored by:

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