The Young Ones

          The Young Ones

Growing up I was brought up in a strict household, couldn’t go on sleepovers, hardly went over to any friend’s house. Things were quite straightforward I knew what was allowed and what wasn’t. At times I slammed doors and would go into my room huffing and puffing because I wouldn’t have things my way. I’m still the first to get in trouble to this day and even if I get into a fight with my younger brother, he is the first to attack me with unpleasant comments. Father will meanwhile call me out and completely ignore any of what my brother says or does. Mind you, I am twenty-three years old. Full attention keeps me accountable and on my feet at times. Although, other times it’ll annoy every bit of patience I have.  But, what’s in it for the males in the house. What’s in it for making young men meet higher societal expectations?

As an eleven year old, adults seemed to pay more attention at the only girl in the household constantly being  observed, reprimanded, and questioned while the younger

boy’s--my two nephews, and brother made fun of me. Currently, my older nephew is seventeen, my brother is sixteen and my younger nephew, Naham is 14 years old. Two of the boys are already on their way out—my older nephew, Bet-el is a senior in high school and my younger brother, Manuel is a junior, and they are quite close to graduating. However, their motivation to do well in school is concerning; when I’ve sat in the past with Bet-el to ask about his plans after graduation his response is simply “I’m not sure, I don’t know” with a smirk in his face. I’ve asked my brother the same question and his answer now is I’m going to El Camino College Compton Center and transfer. Before, he’d say he wanted to become a fire fighter, and previous to that he had no interest as well. This kid is a different story, he’s been through quite a lot; negative influences, lack of guidance, lack of motivation,  and excessive truancies beyond all the comments school administrators have recorded on paper as part of his behavior report. Beyond the comments of school administrators on my brother, Manuel has the kindest heart, puts a smile on my face and reminds me with his presence to continue working hard.

I know what you might be thinking and yes I may be bias in terms of what my ears are pleased to hear. It just doesn’t make since that the kids I saw grow before my eyes and helped raise are falling through the cracks. Why the desperation? Well, according, to the Forbes magazine “young (15 to 24 year old) males are over four times as likely to commit suicide, nine times as likely to be murdered, and for those under 18, about 25 times (!!!) as likely to be imprisoned. They are also less religious - but far more violent.” See, I know how much it sucks to be that one person from the “ghetto” who isn’t taken seriously. My duty as their aunt and sister is to encourage them to play a part of the male presence in higher education institutions. I want them to supersede any of the stereotypes that are subtly waiting for them in their respective high school’s or on their neighborhood grounds and prove themselves that they resist to yet another statistic.

Lipstick Wednesday

Lips and lipstick-sensual symbols- a night out on the town or a romantic dinner for two. High heels and short dresses. Club music or a candlelit dinner. This is what comes to mind when I think about lips and lipstick. 

Sara Hartless, 22, a Connecticut raised and Arizona dancer thinks about self-confidence and self-healing. When thinking about lipstick, Hartless remembers how her self-worth plunged somewhere in the pits of hell almost four years ago, when she was sexually assaulted.

After feeling so worthless and depressed after her assault, Hartless one day decided to put on some lipstick, which allowed her to finally feel like herself again. When walking down the streets of Arizona, Hartless felt beautiful, receiving compliments and praise.  Her self-esteem and confidence slowly seeping into her veins once again, a life restored.

With this, Hartless began her own personal movement- to come forward with her assault. From there, after hearing about Bill Cosby, Brock Turner and Donald Trump in the media, Hartless decided she wanted to start an organization called Lipstick Wednesday. The organization promotes and provides a safe space for women who have been assaulted allowing them to engage in a dialogue about what happened to them, how they are healing, and what they can do together to make a safer community for each other.

“Lips are sensual, yes, but they also symbolize keeping a secret. The darkest secret a woman can keep”.

Hartless explains how women grow up in a society that normalizes rape. That rape “isn’t a big deal” that it is something that “women can get over”. Rape, as demonstrated from the various cases that have gone viral, like the Brock Turner case, must be explicitly violent to be considered rape.

Hartless angrily explains, “I think what infuriates me the most is how society turns against the victim-asking what she was wearing, or how much she had to drink…I was wearing a baggie t-shirt, shorts and Chuck Taylors”.

Society doesn’t think about the victims, or the eternal damages done to them.

“I did not have a menstrual cycle for 5 months. I wasn’t pregnant. My body just shut down entirely”.

I heard Hartless’ voice break over the phone. A pained silenced echoed through the radio-waves. I heard her heart break into a million pieces all over again. The sound of failed promises and faulty legislation breathed unsteadily-the sounds too many women in this country are familiar with.

What Does It Mean to be a Woman living in a Trump Nation-

My question had lingered in the air for several painful moments. A cacophony of silence on both ends.

“As a victim, I feel like my assaulter was just elected”.

Additionally Hartless explains, “for women to be coming forward with their stories and for them to be negated in front of the entire country, it’s like our nation is saying that they don’t matter. That I don’t matter.”

Living under a Trump nation as a woman, is terrifying. According to Meredith Melnick, of the Huffington Post,  “This is the major force of rape culture: Not the moment of violence, but the use of your body as a cheap stepping ladder. It isn’t just Trump, who grabs your pussy ― an ugly, straightforward thing ― it’s Billy Bush, who offers your pussy to his friend in whispers, making the world unsafe in ways you can sense, but cannot see.”

Hartless hasn’t been able to sleep or eat regularly since the election, and she explains that she doesn’t know whether it is because she’s a woman, a survivor or both.

Melnick powerfully questions,

 “Who could I have been if I’d grown up in a culture that saw me as equal and worthy?”

Questions banged against the windowpanes- “what does it mean to be a woman anymore”, “what will become of us”, “what are the young men and women going to learn from this”, “is anywhere safe anymore” ….

Hartless continues, “I started Lipstick Wednesday to help women who are scared, who need to share their stories, who need a safe space”.

Hartless created this organization to not only to help women, but to also help the current state of women in this country. Not only are there heightened tensions between men and women but also tensions between women themselves. Alina of USA Today explains how, “exit polls show 53% of white women voted for Trump, pushing him to victory. They looked past his obvious misogyny, and in doing so, created a deep rift among American women.”

Hartless want to create a safe space, a dialogue, and then to begin rallying against the systemic issues that oppress and mute women across the country.

The organization is not limited to women either, it is open to men as well in hopes that they too will not only share their stories but help the overall cause.

“Although I am the founder, and it has my stamp- it is not solely mine. It is the community’s as well”.

Hartless details that she has several yellow lined legal pads filled with ideas on how to expand her organization. She hopes, with help from her community, to develop the organization into a non-profit; to partner with LGBTQ organizations across the country; and to enact a type of ‘AA’ meeting space across college campuses in which assault victims can meet and talk about their experiences, their traumas and their emotional well-being

Hartless has a meeting with The Woman’s Resource Center on her campus later this week to discuss change, how to make resources more readily available to students, and possibly partnering together with Lipstick Wednesday to transform victims into survivors. To positively enhance the state of women in her community and further, in this country.

Join the movement and throw on your best shade of Lipstick on Wednesdays and hashtag your pictures #LipstickWednesday. Support your women by spreading the word about this organization, contribute to the dialogue, and fight for the state of women in this country.

A Minute Analysis of Educational Inequality

I’ve taught high school seniors for two years through two different programs offered at Loyola Marymount University, Street Read and Street Write. In my experiences at both Westchester High and Culver City High-I have witnessed the results of gerrymandering and have witnessed how our political environment severely effects the students in their everyday classrooms and lives.

One semester my partner Miquel and I wrote an investigate piece on Westchester High, in which we highlighted how although a magnet school-required by law to have a 70% minority ratio- fixed their CAHSEE scores to appeal to prospective students. All the while, in our class of 45 seniors, only 7 applied to college and most, if not all, were either illiterate or still reading at a 7th grade to an “advanced” freshman level.  It was heart breaking.

As the numbers show, under performance is an issue facing many schools in LAUSD, but for magnet schools something else plays a very distinctive role. Joanne Bernstein, our supervising instructor, recalls working as the Magnet Coordinator for Westchester High, a job in where she sarcastically claimed that she, “was replaced for a younger, newer model.” At that time, she received a call from the then superintendent Ramon Cortines who she reported as saying,

“Why the hell am I sending these kids to you to fail, when they can just fail at home?”

We came into the classroom every day, and I still do, with the high hope of reaching out to these students, and if we managed to help a handful, we would call that in of itself a blessing. These students came from backgrounds unfamiliar to most of the privileged LMU community. One student, for example, Ryan, is 17 years-old and he is homeless. He doesn’t know where to sleep at night, or what he will eat.

These students have no positive reinforcement. No one to tell them they could be greater than what society tells them to be-gangsters, drug dealers, laborers, prostitutes-they have no aspirations because they are systemically taught to not have any.

With this being said, one would think that their unfortunate circumstances would motivate teachers to do everything in their will-power to positively enhance these students’ lives. Though, this issue of racialized educational inequality predominately stems from America’s long history of racism and slavery targeted towards most, if not all, minorities.

For example, did you know that the liberation from Spanish rule in 1821 and the US conquest of territories beginning in 1845 did not allow Chicanos the time required to stabilize cultural, legal and economic boundaries.  Acknowledging the Chicano people’s vulnerability, the newly American states fully imposed its social hierarchy on them; blatantly disregarding The Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo. With this, legal forms of disenfranchisement began to implement into Chicano culture.

Subsequently the American states, founded on a social hierarchy on the premise of color, “proposed that only free whites would receive the full benefits of citizenship; leaving those of color with limited civil rights” (Menchaca, 584). The Anglo’s blatant disregard of Chicano people and culture perpetuated segregation, racism and disenfranchisement; further fragmenting the relationship between the two cultures to this day.

Continuously, writer and activist Virgilo Elizondo reflects upon his experiences in the American school system as a Chicano American student and he describes how:

“The schools had done a good job of convincing [them] that [they] were different…all the courses indicated this by pointing to the Anglo-American models of existence as the only normal existence of intelligent, civilized human beings” (Elizondo, 18).

The imperialistic ideology that the white man is the ideal human being has been embedded within the education system. Teachers regurgitated these ideologies onto Chicano-American students, obstructing the quality of education they receive. Elizondo’s academic accounts aid in depicting that “policymakers and educators are failing Mexican-American students and cementing their low status in American society” (127); again highlighting educational inequality as a continual systemic issue.

It is so depressing to know and witness these drastic levels of educational inequality in 2017. We live in a time of consciousness, where we have information at the tips of our fingertips. If only actual effort, at the state and federal level, was implemented into helping these students. However, any social movement begins with word of mouth, and information.

Ideally, the white American population needs to begin a dialogue in regards to the continual marginalization of minorities in the education system; acknowledging the personal accounts of these students, their cultures and histories. As the dialogue progresses, the understanding of educational inequality will reach policy makers, who will be in a federal position to mend current racist and derogatory policies; resulting in the positive enhancement of minority lives.

A Letter to my Future Daughter

Dear Daughter,

As I write this letter to you with a heavy heart, a man named Donald Trump currently sits in the most power position in the world, as the president of the United States. I hope you are not born soon, or at least not in the next couple of years, but even if you are I’m sure you will be absolutely beautiful. My heart is heavy because I ache knowing all too well the world you will be born into, and it isn’t a pretty one-especially for a woman.

I wish I could say we were all equal. That when you finally got your first little retail job over the summer you’d be getting paid the same amount as your male-counterpart. Despite opening and closing the store, and organizing inventory all the same, you’ll be receiving 20% less than him-even if it is you reminding him of what his weekly hours are.

You’ll come home and ask me if it was a mistake, and you’ll have little tears swelling up in those big oceanic crystals of yours, and I won’t be able to respond- because I know it wasn’t a mistake and there aren’t any words for me to explain that it isn’t your fault, it’s just the way things are.

You and I are going to fight. We’re going to bicker about why you shouldn’t take ubers and taxis alone. You’re going to tell me I’m being dramatic and overbearing, and I’m going to tell you that one in five women in the United States gets sexually assaulted every year.

This means, my beautiful girl, that while you’re out with your clique, one out of the five of you or two out of the ten of you, will indeed be sexually assaulted, if it hasn’t happened already. You’re going to say “bullshit mom” and rush out the door with the high-heels you stole from my closet, and I’m going to be sitting at home praying you’re okay the whole time- because I cannot fathom anything happening to my other half.

I’ll buy you pepper-spray and bear mace but you’ll tell me that your university has banned the carrying of both because it once leaked into a girl’s backpack and therefore is considered a hazard to the student community.

I’ll scream and throw Italian hands in the air because this is the world we live in as women. Where the statistics show that women get assaulted, but we are often are so limited in how we can protect ourselves. I’m going to sneak a spray or two into your backpack, anyways because I’d rather you be safe than sorry.

I need you to remember my love, that you are beautiful and smart-talented and wise beyond your youthful years. Never, ever, EVER, let a man tell you or convince you otherwise. You are strong, and independent. You do not need a man to succeed in this life or the next.

But if you fall in love, my darling, make sure it is with a man with a good heart and a good mind. He is not to be disrespectful to you, to talk down to you, or to make you feel lesser than you are. If he one drunken night puts his hands on you- you may think “boys will be boys”, because that is what our society has taught us-that if a man puts his hands on us, he’s just being a man and its truly a sign of affection. WRONG.

Your aunt Alexis once told off two women in the school yard whose boys were picking on you. The women said, “they’re just being boys”, “I’m sure they just want to be friends” and your aunt Alexis replied, “no, you should be teaching your boys how to treat women with respect because that way they will grow up to be kind to women, and not to shove them into walls or beat them black and blue.”

Did you know my love, that The Los Angeles Review of Women reported that in 2014 alone, “L.A. County law enforcement agencies reported receiving 39,145 calls for assistance related to domestic violence? Thus, such targeted violence, women may become isolated, unable to work and to care for themselves and their children”.

Almost 40 thousand women reported being assaulted, terrifyingly so, this number excludes all the women who were too scared to speak up-which based on recent reports is staggeringly high as well.

Boys will not be boys, remember that. Settle for a man who will care for you and motivate you to be the best version of yourself and push you to achieve all your wildest dreams. Settle for a man who will talk to you, not at you.

I wish I could say the world has become a safer place since my childhood, but it has only gotten worse. I wish I could say that we didn’t have a president that refers to women as pigs, dogs and meat. That his rhetoric didn’t encourage aggression towards women, but I can’t. I can only teach you to not settle for less, to speak so loud against this oppression that your voice is heard all the way back home in the mountains of Italy. I can only teach you to rise, and to keep rising.

I can only remind you that you are beautiful, smart and wise. That you will succeed to matter what you decide to set your heart into. I can only comfort you when the tears of injustice soak your worn teddy. I can only encourage you, support you and love you like no mother has ever loved before. You are beautiful, and you will never need a man to succeed because you’ll obtain the world just the way you are.

I am forever proud to call you my daughter, my love and my other half. I will always be here for you, my princess.

Xoxo,

Mom

Food Deserts

I am from Westmont, California and I live in a food desert. A food desert is an area of land where citizens are deprived of fresh produce because of distance and/or availability. Food deserts pose a serious threat to the African American community as health is already an ongoing issue.

 African Americans eat a lot of fried food. A large percentage of our food is prepared with cooking oil and unnecessary amounts of salt. Yes, it tastes good, but constantly indulging in greasy food leads to detrimental health problems like high blood pressure and gout. In order to live longer lives, the black community needs to cut down on greasy foods, or balance it out with healthy sides like fruits and vegetables. This is a problem in my community however, because the produce isn’t organic. Fruits treated with pesticides and GMOs take away from the healthy aspects of fruit and vegetables. Leslie Lizardo, longtime resident of Westmont, points out that, “The food that is supposed to be healthy, isn’t actually healthy in our community. “   

If I want to purchase an apple that is free of genetic modification, I’d have to travel 7.8 miles to the nearest Whole Foods Market in El Segundo. This isn’t too problematic for me because I have a personal vehicle, but it makes it hard for people that rely on public transportation. It takes about twenty minutes by car, and could take an hour or more via bus. I find it sad that someone from my community has to sit on a bus for an hour to purchase an organic piece of fruit. In order to take back our health, we must first educate one another on the issue.

Ron Finley, founder of Guerrilla Gardening, is an African American male from South Central who sought to improve his community. Rather than seeking economic gain, Finley created the non-profit organization in hopes of strengthening the black community through hands-on labor. Finley created Guerilla Gardening as a way to educate the world on the increasing number of food deserts in heavily populated areas.

Guerrilla Gardeners go around poor communities and plant fresh produce on pieces of unused land throughout the city. Finley's organization provides people unable to afford to eat healthy, or simply eat in general, with free clean food. Everything the organization grows is open to the public. The fruit is planted on sidewalks so that people don’t have to feel embarrassed about asking others for food. This organization’s work helps the hungry, as well as those who want to eat healthy, but live far away from fresh produce.

One of the biggest driving factors for the organization is health. In a Ted Talk on Guerilla Gardening, Finley states, "The drive-thru is killing more people than the drive by." Finley uses the organization to educate the community about the harsh reality of constantly eating fatty foods. In a LA Times article, Mary MacVean says, “But the number of fast-food outlets within three miles of home was associated with eating more fast food, fried potatoes and caloric soft drinks, and with less frequent consumption of produce, the researchers said.   Like MacVean, Finley also realizes that healthier foods are less likely to be present in these communities, so people tend to rely on fast food because it is easily acceptable. So, with that in mind, Finley decided to give produce away for free so that people would have an incentive to take back their health.

 This organization continues to strengthen the community through volunteer accessibility and hands on produce production. All ages are accepted to participate in field work, which allows different members of the community to interact with one another. By allowing the community to get involved in the planting produce, it motivates them to enjoy the fruits of their labor. 

Tough Decisions

            Growing up I was too white for the black kids, and too black for the whites. You see, I was born and raised in Compton, California, but went school in El Segundo. Anyone who is familiar with the Los Angeles area knows that these are two completely different environments. Compton is the original home of the drive by shooting, while El Segundo is known for its beautiful scenery and location near the beach.  But, as a child growing up in a low income community, I saw everything but waves crashing along the shore.

When you don’t have much, you learn to make do with what you have. Growing up in an impoverished community, kids don’t have an abundance of toys or games, so we hung around the local gang members. I blindly admired their lifestyle because they appeared to have money, unlike a lot of people in my community. I wanted to be like them. They were having fun, and making money without having to work for it. I know now that they were moving drugs, but as a child I didn’t understand that concept. I was infatuated with the flashy jewelry, so I was headed down the same path… until March 12^th.

            On March 12^th my aunt had a birthday party in Compton. My family and I were hanging out in the front yard celebrating and having a good time when a neighboring gang drove by and shot up the house. Everyone dropped to the floor seeking cover, and most of us went unharmed, all but one. My aunt’s daughter, Jasmine, was penetrated by the hot led. Ironically, none of the gang members were hit. Imagine being a ten year old boy, and witnessing your fifteen year old cousin lying in the corner bleeding out for absolutely no reason. Imagine seeing your aunt fall to the floor with a stream of tears flowing from her eyes knowing she’s on the verge of losing her precious angel.  Rightfully so, that incident made me want out.

            Originally, I attended school in Compton, and hung out with the kids in my neighborhood. I fit in. But, following the incident, I knew that life wasn’t for me. As soon as I graduated from the eighth grade I told my mom I didn’t want to go to school in the hood anymore. She was fully supportive of my decision, and enrolled me in Da Vinci Science. As a freshman, I was one of the few black students in the school. I couldn’t identify with the students because I came from a completely different world. I carried my slang to El Segundo, and brought my ‘properness’ back to Compton. All of a sudden I didn’t identify with anyone, and I was stuck. My mom reflected on the decision, and said, “I knew I was doing the right thing by letting you switch schools. It was harder for me having to travel that far, but it had to be done. I’m glad I made the sacrifice because look where it brought you.” It was definitely hard to get use to living in an alternate world, but it paid off in the long run.

            Attending school in the hood would have put me at a disadvantage. In Students Facing Poverty, the New Majority, Steve Suitts writes, “A student from a U.S. family in the top quartile of income is seven times more likely to graduate from college than is a U.S. student in the bottom income quartile (Mortenson, 2014).” Studies show that lower income students have a harder time receiving an education because of lack of resources. In Keeping Low-Income Students on Track, Sean Nyhan also highlights the academic performance gap. Nyhan says, “In 2013, nearly 89 percent of adults who came from the top income quartile earned at least a bachelor’s degree, while only nine percent of those from the lowest income quartile achieved the same outcome,” (Nyhan 28). Receiving a college education for those from a lower income community is possible, but a lot less likely. Therefore, although my decision and situation was tough at first, it was the right choice. It led me to LMU, and in three more semesters, I will have graduated with a Bachelor’s Degree. 

We Need To Start Dating Again

Our generation is pretty screwed up when it comes to the whole dating thing. “I’ll pick you up at 7 o’clock” has turned into arriving at 7:15pm and sending a text saying, “I’m here” instead of walking to the door to meet the parents. Snapchats and Instagram “likes” have become acceptable forms of flirting. A “like” on Instagram is way more common than a compliment in real life. Date night has evolved from going out to dinner, playing putt-putt (a completely underrated pastime in my opinion) or doing anything relatively thoughtful, to watching Netflix and maybe ordering a pizza. Please don’t get me started on the whole, “Netflix and chill” phenomenon.

It seems like no one is actually dating anymore. Everyone is “talking” or “has a thing with someone” or is “kind of dating” that one guy from B-Law on Thursdays. No one wants the commitment of a real relationship, but they don’t want to be alone either. Lindsay, a junior at Loyola Marymount University said, “There’s this stigma around the hook up culture in college. People don’t date or show their partner affection. If you walk around campus, you probably won’t see a single couple holding hands or kissing each other goodbye.” A guy won’t take the girl he’s “talking to” on an actual date, but when he sees that her best friend on Snapchat is another guy, he freaks out. A girl doesn’t want to commit to the guy she “has a thing” with, but she gets mad when she sees that he is liking other girls’ photos on Instagram.

I’m not sure when these actions become acceptable substitutes for real life conversations of dates, but it’s happened and it needs to change. I think we should bring back dating- Real, honest to God, “I’ll pick you up at 7 o’clock” dating. According to Neil Clark Warren, an American clinical psychologist, “over half of people who report their relationship status as ‘single’ say they haven’t been on a real date in two years.” Instead of sending a Snapchat to that person you have your eye on, why not ask them out on a real date?

I get it. It’s scary. You have to deal with the fear of being rejected. There’s also potential for it to be really awkward, but honestly, there are worst tihngs in life. Sure, they might say no. That’s a bummer, but it’s not the end of the world. At least you tried. On the other hand, let’s pretend they say yes, and you do go on the date and it’s really awkward. First of all, take a deep breath. Again, this is not the end of the world. Tell some stupid jokes. Talk endlessly about your family.

First dates are supposed to be awkward. And if it’s really unfixable, at least you tried. You did better than the rest of us, stuck at home Snapchatting the person they’re “talking to.”  I’m not saying that we all need to go out and ask every person we’ve ever thought was cute out on a date. I’m not saying that these dates need to be extravagant or meticulously planned out. What I am saying is that there is nothing to lose.

            If you think the person you sit next to in calculus is cute, ask them to study sometime. Instead of Snapchatting your crush constantly, go get ice cream. According to Match.com, polling reports state that, “91 percent of men who use the site are comfortable with a woman asking them out.” Suck on that, patriarchy. Ask that person that you’ve always wanted to get to know better to hang out. Yes, in person. What an interesting concept! Who knows? That random date you asked someone on might be the start of a beautiful relationship.