16 with BRotheR ali

Transcription

16 with BRotheR ali
Volume 5 • Issue 1
www.threesixtyjournalism.org
February–March 2014
$1
Minnesota Teens Report Stories & Issues That Matter
Ra
ce
Race in Minnesota
They’re not black enough.
They speak “Mexican.” They
must be overachievers if
they’re Chinese … good with
computers if they’re Indian
… hiding something if they
wear a turban. Twin Cities
teens have heard it all—and
frankly, they’re a bit tired of
the labels. Pages 11-25
@16 with
Brother Ali
Music, race and religion
with the outspoken rapper
Page 12
Volume 5 • Issue 1
Frequently asked questions
What is ThreeSixty Journalism? ThreeSixty
Journalism is a youth journalism program of the College
of Arts and Sciences at the University of St. Thomas. The
non-profit program is committed to helping Minnesota
teens tell the stories that matter in their lives and
communities.
What is ThreeSixty’s mission? ThreeSixty’s mission
is to bring diverse voices into journalism and related
professions by using intense, personal instruction in
the craft and principles of journalism to strengthen
the literacy, writing skills and college-readiness of
Minnesota teens.
Whom do you serve? ThreeSixty Journalism directly
serves more than 100 Minnesota high school students
each year via after-school classes, weekend workshops,
school partnerships, individual coaching and summer
journalism camps. About half the students served come
from low-income homes and more than 60 percent come
from communities of color. We serve thousands more
via our writing contests, print publications and website–
www.threesixtyjournalism.org.
How did ThreeSixty Journalism start? The
program began as the Urban Journalism Workshop
in 1971. UJW provided basic journalism training to
Minnesota high school students, particularly lowincome and minority teens, at summer camps at the
University of Minnesota. In 2001, the program moved to
the University of St. Thomas and became a year-round
program with a full-time staff.
What’s the name ThreeSixty Journalism mean?
In 2006, the program’s name changed to ThreeSixty
Journalism to reflect the program’s growth and the
range of backgrounds among the students we serve.
We are interested in telling stories from all parts of our
community, using a variety of media tools, including
words, photos, illustrations and video.
How can I get involved? ThreeSixty is accepting
applications to its two summer camps—our residential
Intermediate Camp from June 15-27 and our day Intro
to Journalism Camp from July 7-24. For application
details, visit www.threesixtyjournalism.org and click on
the “Summer Camps” link at the top. Scholarships are
available; the earlier, the better to qualify.
To inquire about our magazine or submit ideas,
essays, photos and artwork, email them to info@
threesixtyjournalism.org or contact Editor Thomas
Rozwadowski at [email protected].
To arrange classroom visits, contact Community
Outreach Editor Katie Johnson at katie.johnson@
stthomas.edu or Executive Director Lynda McDonnell at
[email protected].
Writers in this issue Simone Cazares, St. Paul Conservatory for
Performing Artists • Ellie Colbert, Washburn HS • Hannah Gordon,
Washburn HS • Nichelle Heu, Harding HS • Aamino Hirmoge, Harding
HS • Deborah Honore, Bloomington John F. Kennedy • Madie Ley, Elk
River HS • Kimberly Martinez, Harding HS • Lana Rubinstein, River
Falls HS • Maya Shelton-Davies, River Falls HS • Amolak Singh, Nova
Classical Academy • Brianna Skildum, Roosevelt HS • Amira WarrenYearby, St. Louis Park HS • Ninis Widyaningrum, Lakeville South HS •
Mina Yuan, Wayzata HS
Photographers in this issue Victoria Turcios, Minneapolis
Community and Technical College
Publisher: Lynda McDonnell
Editor: Thomas Rozwadowski
Design Consultant: Diana Boger
Community Outreach Editor: Katie Johnson
Communications Marketing Coordinator: Briana Gruenewald
Administrative Assistant: Tyanna Dickerson
Editorial offices
Mail 5057, 2115 Summit Ave.
St. Paul MN 55105
651-962-5282
[email protected]
Copyright 2014 All rights reserved.
for minnesota teachers
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To get an individual subscription through the mail, send a $25 check for one year (four issues) to:
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Please include your name, address and email address.
2 threesixtyjournalism.org
ThreeSixty is grateful to the following individuals who donate
their time and expertise to the success of the program:
ThreeSixty Journalism Board of Advisors Brian Bellmont,
Bellmont Partners Public Relations • Sue Campbell, Twin Cities
Public Television • David Cazares, Minnesota Public Radio • Dennis
McGrath, McGrath Buckley Communications Counseling • Dr. Dina
Gavrilos, University of St. Thomas • Dr. Kristie Bunton, University of
St. Thomas • Mike Burbach, St. Paul Pioneer Press • Doug Hennes,
University of St. Thomas • Duchesne Drew. Star Tribune • Lida Poletz,
Weber Shandwick • Scott Libin, Internet Broadcasting • Sara
Pelissero, WCCO-TV
Ex officio member Dr. Terence Langan, Dean, College of Arts &
Sciences, University of St Thomas
Major supporters include our advertisers, donors and the
following organizations Carl & Eloise Pohlad Family Foundation •
Bremer Foundation • Best Buy Children’s Foundation • University
of St. Thomas • Gannett Foundation • Dow Jones News Fund •
Carlson Companies • Comcast • KSTP-TV • Google • Star Tribune
• Mall of America
the
Ra
ce
issue
It began with a simple story pitch. “I want to write about low-key racism in schools,”
ThreeSixty writer Amira Warren-Yearby proposed at our first fall editorial board meeting. Our response:
Tell us more. That got the ball rolling for several students to weigh in on race-related topics—everything
from judgments about listening to “white rock music” as a Somali girl, or feeling inadequate about an
authentic “black identity” because of pervasive stereotypes, to mounting frustration over the “little boxes”
that peers and adults force us in because of skin color, speech patterns, hairstyles, religious preferences—
you name it. On Martin Luther King Day, ThreeSixty students took it one step further by crafting their own
“microaggression” signs for a photo project that we’re proud to unveil in the following pages. Our goal with
this collection of stories and visuals is simple: Let’s learn from each other. Or as ThreeSixty writer Amolak
Singh advised when asked how someone should inquire about the turban he wears because of his Sikhism:
“Just be polite. Watch your tone, that’s all.” Sounds like an easy place to start, right? n Pages 11-25
Send comments to
ThreeSixty Journalism
Send your letters to ThreeSixty
Journalism at 2115 Summit Ave.,
Mail 5057, St. Paul, MN. 55105,
or comment online at www.
threesixtyjournalism.org
You can also join ThreeSixty
Journalism’s Facebook fan
page or follow us on Twitter@
ThreeSixtyMN
contents FEBRUARY/March
4
Telling stories, changing minds: What is empathy? In the case of Northside Women’s
Space in Minneapolis, it’s about opening doors to victims of prostitution. n 6
Think before you ink: From Justin Bieber to LeBron James, tattoos seem to be everywhere.
But Minnesota law requires teens to wait. So, what’s the right age to get one? n 7
Home away from home: Riding a big yellow school bus felt like a piece of the American dream
to one exchange student. Yet despite the new experiences, life overseas can pose challenges. n 8
Connect with us online
Thank you Finance
& Commerce
The print version of ThreeSixty
Journalism magazine will be
published four times during the
2013-2014 school year. Finance
& Commerce in Minneapolis
has donated printing of the
publication. We are grateful for
this generous gift.
Creatures of comfort: C’mon, who can resist a cuddly dog’s wagging tail? Yet while animal therapy
bonds can prove life-changing, the approval process isn’t as simple as begging for treats. n 4
@16 with Brother Ali: The prolific Minneapolis-based rapper is never at a loss for words. Whether
converting to Islam or discovering hip-hop, life as a teenager shaped everything Ali stands for today. n 12
7
YourTurn contest winners: If you get knocked down, just dust yourself off and keep forging ahead,
right? Except it’s never that easy—as the winners of our essay contest about failure can attest. n 26
Pieces of a puzzle: Even with a big part of her past shrouded in mystery, teen writer
Lana Rubinstein finds comfort in the confusion of her adoption “scavenger hunt.” n 28
Style in the bargain aisle: Big brands still hold sway among mall dwellers, but with an
increasing eye on variety and affordability, thrift shopping is making a fashionable dent. n 29
Music with a mission: As the Cedar Cultural Center celebrates 25 years, the Minneapolis
venue’s brain trust reflects on the power of live music and global awareness. n 30
Sweet science: Think it sounds fun to play with chocolate? Meet Joshua Werner,
the man behind Patisserie 46’s artistically edible masterpieces. n 31
February / March 2014
3
Creatures
of comfort
Animal therapy bonds lead to
life changing lessons, rewards
4 threesixtyjournalism.org
Mina Yuan
Wayzata High
School
where she serves as the principal’s
secretary. To Loberg’s surprise, when
Brooklyn Center high schoolers
heard of the puppy with the soulful brown eyes, they immediately
flocked to visit.
They cooed over her silky brown
fur and smiled whenever Lily looked
up. Lily’s condition began to improve
as she made new friends, and in no
time, more and more students and
teachers were dropping by Loberg’s
office whenever they were stressed to
pet or talk to Lily.
“It got to the point where
Lifetouch even took a picture of Lily
for the yearbook,” Loberg said, laughing. “Everybody loved her. But then
(the school) told us that Lily had to
become a registered therapy animal
or else she couldn’t come anymore.”
ROAD TO REGISTRATION
And so began Lily and Loberg’s mission to serve as a therapy team.
Registration to become an official
therapy animal is no simple feat. For
a dog to become registered with Pet
Partners, a national therapy animal
organization, the dog and its handler
must first pass through puppy kindergarten, two levels of obedience
training, the Canine Good Citizen
(CGC) obedience test, a therapy
Submitted
Glancing at Lily, an adorably
fuzzy seven-year-old Shih Tzu with
enormous chocolate eyes, one would
never guess that only three years
ago, she had been lying in a cage in
Canada—unwanted and unloved.
Yet that’s exactly where Lily
was. Jerri Loberg had been helping
to overnight rescue dogs from the
southern United States when she first
met Lily. Having lived her entire four
years in a puppy mill, Lily was on her
way to a dog auction in Canada.
“Lily was in really bad condition when I first saw her,” Loberg
said. “She was blind in one eye, had
only five teeth left, and one leg was
broken and never got set properly.”
Though Loberg instantly fell in
love with Lily, by the next morning,
she had to send her off to Canada as
planned. For weeks, Loberg wondered about the dog’s fate. No longer
able to deal with the uncertainty, she
called Lily’s auctioneer.
No one wanted Lily. Families with
children complained that injuries
prevented her from playing, and
the elderly decided that it was too
expensive to raise a dog with so
many health problems. Upon hearing
about Lily’s loneliness, Loberg immediately adopted the Shih Tzu.
“I really thought she wasn’t going
to make it at first,” Loberg said. “I
mean, she wouldn’t even drink water.
It was pretty bad.”
As a result of Lily’s poor health,
Loberg brought the dog to work with
her at Brooklyn Center High School,
Therapy dogs provide a boost to patients and staff as part of an animal therapy program called Pets Assisting With Healing
(PAWH) at St. Paul Children’s Hospital. Dogs are especially valuable because they can read human faces.
animal simulation class, a four hour
online test, and then another obedience and simulation test.
Patti Anderson, a therapy animal
trainer for the Animal Humane
Society in Golden Valley, teaches
a weekly class for dogs that want
to become registered through Pet
Partners. She conducts the final obedience and simulation test, as well.
Her class, which Lily and Loberg
are taking, simulates real-life situations for therapy animals and their
handlers to practice. Some of the
simulations include teaching handler-dog teams how to properly enter
bathrooms and elevators, calmly
interact with homeless children and
greet patients in wheelchairs so all
parties remain comfortable.
“I think of (this class) as a
sampler. People don’t really know
from start to finish what they want
to do with dogs. It might be an eyeopener that their dog really doesn’t
like sitting down and reading with
a kid. The dog might get kind of
antsy and want more action. They
wouldn’t know until they tried it,”
Anderson said.
“But the unique thing about Pet
Partners’ (classes and tests) is that
when I evaluate, I evaluate 50 percent of the handler and 50 percent
of the dog, or the animal. (Handlers)
have to do all of the training. I just
facilitate information for them to
go home, but I don’t physically train
their dog.”
Following the 10-week course,
animals of all species and their
handlers have to take an online
test and pass a 20-exercise-long
evaluation. Interestingly enough,
the test is almost exactly the same
for all species.
“They’re the same exercises but
modified for different species. I
mean, you don’t have guinea pigs
heel,” Anderson said.
“After the test, I talk with (handlers) and ask them what they want
to do. Some of them join a club,
like Animal Ambassadors. Their
Staff
How to help
Lily, a seven-year-old Shih Tzu, allows a volunteer to pet her during animal
Animal-handler teams often volunteer for their entire
lifetimes due to the satisfaction of interacting with
therapy patients. Dogs, for example, live for an average of 11 years, but smaller dogs can live for much
longer. Of course, some animals stop earlier, too.
“A good handler will see when an animal isn’t
interested anymore. I mean, grandma and grandpa
don’t like going down the slide anymore. Same with
dogs,” said Patti Anderson, a therapy animal trainer
for the Animal Humane Society in Golden Valley.
As therapy animals become more popular—
popping up everywhere from college campuses
during finals week to veterans’ hospitals and nursing
homes—animals are often needed to meet demand.
To learn more about volunteer opportunities or
becoming a therapy animal-handler team, visit www.
petpartners.org or www.northstartherapyanimals.org.
therapy training at the Animal Humane Society in Golden Valley.
main focus is nursing homes or those dogs
at the airports … Then North Star Therapy
Animals, which is mainly dogs, is everywhere
doing everything, like health clinics or eating
disorder clinics.”
HELPING AT HOSPITALS
Nicole Lindstrom has been an occupational
therapist at St. Paul Children’s Hospital for 11
years. In 2003, she started an animal-assisted
therapy program called Pets Assisting With
Healing (PAWH) at the Children’s Hospital.
Her interest stemmed from dolphin human
therapy in Key Largo, Fla.—and the astronomical expense involved.
“It was extremely expensive, and as I was
there, I felt bad that children didn’t have the
option to continue this kind of therapy when
they went home,” Lindstrom said. “When I
returned to Minnesota to start working at the
Children’s Hospital, I really wanted to start an
AAT (Animal Assisted Therapy) program.”
Lindstrom created the PAWH program to
use a therapy dog during occupational therapy,
physical therapy and speech therapy. With help
from the infection control team at the hospital,
she agreed on guidelines—making sure that
dogs trimmed their nails, bathed within 24
hours of the therapy session, remained on bed
sheets, and other health precautions.
The program began with one animal team.
Today, there are 30 teams volunteering at
Children’s Hospital.
“I pick the therapy dog and handler based
on a few things,” said Lindstrom, who only
allows animal teams registered with Pet
Partners since they re-evaluate every two years.
“I base it on the child first. Does the child like
big or little dogs? Hairy or less hair? Does the
child need the type of personality of a dog
that’s calm or active?”
While personality and appearance are
important in choosing animal teams, another
crucial factor is which species serves the best
purpose.
Dogs are the only species that can read
human faces, making them the number one
animal choice for therapy, Anderson said. Their
grasp of expressions and moods allows them
to be sensitive to the needs of therapy patients
who often seek comfort.
She’s even trying out for the swim team.
“Every single child that I have worked with
(is) incredibly motivated during the therapy
sessions when the dog is there. But about two
months or so later, that child bonds to the
handler, and the handler is a very important
part of the therapy session,” Lindstrom said.
“They see the handler as equally important as the dog. It’s incredibly rewarding for
the volunteer that comes in. They see that
they (are making) an incredible difference in
that child’s life.”
MOTIVATIONAL POWER
Lindstrom can vouch for the healing powers
of therapy animals. One of her patients is an
8-year-old girl who suffered a stroke last year—
which left the right side of her body weaker
than the left, leading to poor balance.
It was difficult for the child to walk without
a cane or walker, and she couldn’t dress herself
or go to her normal classroom. Lindstrom also
observed that it was difficult for her to speak
clearly and use both hands to complete tasks.
Because the girl was frustrated and not
particularly motivated during therapy sessions, Lindstrom opted to use a therapy dog.
Almost immediately, the girl gained motivation. Whether throwing a ball, dressing the
dog in various costumes to improve her motor
skills, or brushing the dog’s teeth to learn how
to use both hands, she completed each exercise
cheerfully and confidently.
Now, three months after working with the
dog, Lindstrom’s patient can speak clearly, walk
without a cane or walker, use both hands to
complete tasks and attend her regular classroom.
February / March 2014
5
Carlson --Supported Content
Telling stories,
changing minds
Northside Women’s Space opens
its doors to victims of prostitution
—Rev. Alika Galloway, co-pastor Kwanzaa Community Church
and founder, Northside Women’s Space
What is the importance
of storytelling? And how can a story
change someone’s views on a controversial topic like prostitution?
Recently, 20-year-old Maxine
Johnson, a psychology major at the
University of St. Thomas, learned
from a research project that storytelling has the power to change
people’s minds about prostitution
and sex trafficking.
Her psychology professor,
Roxanne Prichard, told Johnson
about the Northside Women’s Space
at Kwanzaa Community Church.
Located a block off Broadway
Avenue—a hotbed of prostitution
in North Minneapolis—the Center
provides a welcoming and safe
place for women who have traded
6 threesixtyjournalism.org
Maya
Shelton-Davies
River Falls
High School
sex for money.
There are soft couches in a
sunny upstairs room, hot meals and
sanitary supplies, a chance to meet
with a counselor who specializes in
trauma, and referrals to other forms
of help. The Presbyterian church
even sold its old stained-glass windows because women felt judged by
the Biblical figures towering above
their heads.
Johnson, a junior, was looking
for a research project and saw an
Signs and pictures
inside the Northside
Women’s Space at
Kwanzaa Church
offer hope and
support to victims
of prostitution.
Staff
“I had a woman come in last summer, and I greeted her at the door. It was
so hot that day, and she said, ‘Hi, is this the right place?’ And I said, ‘We’ll
make it the right place.’
She was so tired. She couldn’t talk very well. I asked if I could give her a
hug, so I gave her a hug. I asked, ‘What else can I do?’ And she said, ‘Do you
have a washcloth and some soap? I just don’t want to stink anymore.’
So I went and grabbed her a bunch of supplies, and she asked, ‘Can I
go into your bathroom?’ I told her she could stay in there however long she
wanted to, so I sat down and waited for her. The look on her face when she
came out was just elated. She had washed her hair and combed it. She said,
‘I’ve been out in the street all night just trying to make my rent. Can I just sit
down?’ We had the air conditioner on and she said, ‘I feel like a human again.
I can make it.’
We don’t have a lot at Northside Women’s Space, but that day, I saw the
gospel. I could not pay her minimum wage. I could not pay her rent. But I
could give her a $25 food card and a safe place.”
opportunity to test whether hearing the stories of women involved in
the sex trade would change people’s
views of prostitution. Together
with Prichard, they wanted to find
research that might actually help
someone.
“Alika (Galloway) told me about
what they did over there, a little bit
about the women, and that really
sparked my interest,” Johnson said.
The public’s view of prostitutes
is typically negative. Women who
sell their bodies are seen as sexcrazed, immoral and in control of
their choices regarding the street life,
Johnson said.
The reality is quite different.
In 2006 and 2007, University of
Minnesota researcher Lauren Martin
interviewed 150 adults who traded
sex for money in North Minneapolis.
Most were unemployed AfricanAmerican mothers who desperately
needed money for essentials like
food and housing.
Their lives were anything but
“Pretty Woman” glamorous. The
women had experienced “extreme
poverty, high rates of violence,
homelessness, chemical dependency,
exploitation by pimps and traffickers, unmet health needs, societal
stigma, exclusion, and victimization,” Martin found. Nearly two-third needed access
to a food shelf and temporary emergency housing. Feeling stigmatized
was one reason they didn’t seek help.
From that research came the
idea for a drop-in center with flexible hours and a safe place to rest
and share their stories. Northside
Women’s Space opened in 2010 to
provide it. About 20 to 40 women
come each week to use its resources,
Galloway said.
“When I first came, I started
listening to women who were
engaged in the sex trade, and they
were telling me their stories,” she
said. “I just held the stories. I didn’t
Maxine Johnson
really know what to do with them,
but they were important and I
knew that.”
Guided by Prichard, Johnson
designed an experiment to test
how hearing the women’s firstperson narratives would affect
public perceptions. She had 78
people take an anonymous online
survey that asked about their views
of prostitution and prostituted
women. Participants then watched
a three-minute video clip of women
who were former prostitutes telling
their stories.
Afterward, when people took the
survey again, their views were far
more compassionate. After watching the videos, they were far less
likely to believe that women freely
storytelling continued on page 14
Think before
you ink
Tattoos might be everywhere—
but Minnesota law requires teens to wait
Nichelle Heu
Harding
High School
faces said it all: To get a tattoo, you
have to love it.
“It’s like a coming of age,” said
Jason Donner, a tattoo artist at
Mutiny Tattoo and Piercing in
Minneapolis. “You get to a certain
age and you know exactly who
you are. You want to put something on you to define who that
person is. And it’s something that
is right of passage.”
THE RIGHT AGE?
Except “coming of age” means your
18th birthday in Minnesota.
In 2010, a new state law made
it illegal for anyone under 18, even
with parental consent, to get a
tattoo. The law was further tightened in August, with any individual
caught performing body art without
a valid license guilty of a gross
misdemeanor.
That led to some headlines
in December when Park High
gymnastics teacher Terry Hardy
If I would’ve had the money, or if someone would’ve
been like, ‘Oh yeah, I’ll tattoo you,’ you know, maybe
I would’ve made a bad choice and done it.
—Jason Donner, tattoo artist
Staff
Miley Cyrus has a dream
catcher on the right side of her
abs. Justin Bieber has an eye with
“Believe” under his right arm.
LeBron James has Chosen1 stretched
across his back. Megan Fox’s shoulder lets us know that “We will all
laugh at gilded butterflies.”
When it comes to tattoos,
teenagers don’t need an excuse to
want what everyone seemingly has.
Whether they see them on celebrities, athletes or fellow students,
today’s generation accepts body art
as a true statement and way of life.
“I think that young people (today)
think of their body as more of a
canvas instead of this sacred thing
that nobody can touch. And they just
want to decorate it,” said Aly Marie,
20, an employee at Twisted Tattooing
and Piercing in Chicago.
In mid-January, Minneapolis
hosted Marie and other tattoo fans
at the Villain Arts Tattoo Convention
inside the downtown Hyatt. With
needles rattling around them, artists
showcased unique work from across
the country—everything from exotic
birds and comic book characters to
personal inscriptions.
The pained expressions on some
Jake Hoel, 19, of Eau Claire, Wis. braces for his first tattoo from Anthony Elliott II of Elliotts Tattoo in Little Falls. The pair
met up this winter at the Villain Arts Tattoo Convention in Minneapolis.
was fired by the South Washington
County school district for tattooing
a 15-year-old Cottage Grove student at his home. Hardy was issued
a citation for two misdemeanor
counts of assault.
While eager teens might trust
an adult willing to tattoo them,
being patient is better, said Heather
Markun-Heard, 19, of Minneapolis.
“I always wanted mine done
unprofessionally, just because I
wanted one so bad,” said MarkunHeard, who got her first tattoo
on her 18th birthday. “Since I was
little, I’d always ask for one but my
mom wouldn’t let me. I was always
tempted. Finally, I was smart enough
to say, ‘No, I want it done well.’ So
I waited.”
Donner got his first tattoo when
he was 20. Though he’s glad to
have waited for life experience to
think
spot
make his tattoos more meaningful,
Donner understands the temptation facing teens.
“I got a tattoo a little bit older …
but only because I couldn’t afford
what I wanted to do,” he said. “If I
would’ve had the money, or if someone would’ve been like, ‘Oh yeah,
I’ll tattoo you,’ you know, maybe I
would’ve made a bad choice and
done it.”
Marie is covered in tattoos—
many of them representing her
family and what she loves. Her
knuckles are filled with meaning and
inspiration, including nods to her
autistic brother, including a puzzle
piece in red—his favorite color—and
a blue ribbon for autism.
Though she works around tattoos every day, if Marie were in
control of laws, she’d push the age
requirement to 22.
Should minors under the age of 18 be allowed to get tattoos?
What’s the appropriate age for that decision?
“Just because when you’re 18,
you’re so excited … but you really
don’t know what to get,” Marie said.
“Tattoos should have meanings.
And I think that’s what should be on
somebody’s body. If they’re going to
have something forever, at least have
something that reminds you of why
you got it.”
MORE ACCEPTABLE TODAY
Donner said the mindset for those
who appreciate body art hasn’t
changed. However, it has become
more socially acceptable. That
can influence customers who may
have previously denied themselves
a tattoo because of workplace or
family judgments.
“I think that teens have always
wanted tattoos. I don’t think it’s
special in this particular moment in
time. When I was a teenager, we all
wanted to get tattoos. My dad’s generation, they wanted to get tattooed
at a young age, too,” Donner said.
“But the older generation now is
more likely to get a tattoo. Because
ink continued on page 14
February / March 2014
7
Home away
from home
Exchange students experience highs
and lows while studying overseas
think
spot
Ellie Colbert
Washburn
High School
Hannah
Gordon
Washburn
High School
elsewhere. Sydney Corbeil-Wild,
a 17-year-old junior at Washburn,
decided to live abroad only four
months before her departure date.
She has been living in Tudela, Spain
for the past six months.
Corbeil-Wild decided on
Spain because she was tired of the
“same old things at home” and
wanted to step outside her comfort
zone. Despite anticipating some
adjustments, she didn’t expect
everything in her life to be turned
upside down.
“I miss laughing really hard at
something, because I haven’t laughed
really hard for a long time,” CorbeilWild said. “I miss mac and cheese
and my dog. I miss being able to
easily talk to people about how I’m
feeling. Easy connections.”
exchange continued on page 10
Submitted
You walk into a long, brick
building you have never been to
before. All around you, kids are
slamming lockers and rushing to
class. They reminisce about their
summer together and smile at the
familiar faces. Only you don’t know
your way around, don’t know who to
sit with. You don’t even know where
to begin.
Exchange students experience all
of this unknown in a foreign country
thousands of miles away from home,
in a language they don’t speak, a
culture they don’t know, and with a
family they have never met.
“The first day of school when
you come up and you know nobody,
that is really stressful,” said Julien
Hainaut, an 18-year-old exchange
student who has been at Minneapolis
Washburn for five months. “And you
don’t really speak the language and
everybody asks you questions, and …
the first lunch, you’re like, ‘OK, now
what do I do?’”
Originally from Belgium, Hainaut
always knew he wanted to travel to
the United States.
“I always dream of going to USA.
Since I was 10, I told my mom,
‘Mom, I will go to USA,’” he said.
Not all students who study abroad
held a childhood dream of traveling
What would be the hardest thing to leave or give up from home
if you traveled overseas for a school year?
Top: Snow remained a familiar fixture to Maja Caye while living as an exchange student in Sweden. Below: Fellow Washburn
junior Sydney Corbeil-Wild enjoys a meal with her host family in Tudela, Spain.
8 threesixtyjournalism.org
Sitting on the school bus
that first time was like being
sucked into a movie. I was
in a real, yellow American
A dream realized
school bus! Looking out to
the neighborhood and people
on the bus, I reminded
An exchange student’s arrival in
America opens eyes, hearts
myself that I was really here,
living my dream.
WELCOME TO LAKEVILLE
Coming to a whole new world is
exciting, yet scary. I was seeing
Ninis
Widyaningrum
Lakeville South
High School
things that only used to be on TV.
I began speaking a whole new language and staying with a new family.
I landed in Minneapolis-St. Paul
Airport in August. It was a warm,
sunny day. For my host family, it was
hot, but for someone who grew up
with nothing but scorching sun and
humidity, it was a pleasant Friday
morning. A good day to start a new
chapter in my teenage life, right?
On my first day, they showed me
downtown Lakeville, the school I
would be attending and their favorite
pizza place. At night, after unpacking my luggage and getting ready to
sleep, I cried. I cried because I knew
I would love my host family like my
own family, and I didn’t want to mess
up. I cried because it was all so new
and strange, and I was so scared. I
spent most of my summer with my
new family—they taught me how to
play golf and brought me boating on
the lake. Then school started and I
experienced more challenges.
Sitting on the school bus that
first time was like being sucked
into a movie. I was in a real, yellow
American school bus! Looking out
to the neighborhood and people on
the bus, I reminded myself that I was
really here, living my dream.
At school, I expected to see lots
of drama and supermodels because I
watch a lot of American movies and
TV shows. Instead, the students were
friends why some girls spend an hour
every morning to put on makeup,
she said they wanted to cover up
any unwanted things on their faces.
Once, when I told my friend that in
Indonesia we couldn’t use makeup at
school, she said, “I won’t go to school
if that’s the rule.” It’s just … different.
Submitted
I grew up in Indonesia,
a developing country that became
independent from Japan less than 70
years ago. Poverty and corruption
are major problems. Because of our
conditions, a movement has started
so the younger generation can work
and study hard to get Indonesia out
of its black hole.
This generation is the nation’s hope
to make Indonesia a better place to
live: No collusion and nepotism, better
education, truthful government and
less poverty. Our movement includes
programs to study abroad so teenagers
can go to developed countries, learn,
come back, share and be the future
leaders at home.
I was in 7th Grade when I heard
about Youth Exchange and Study
(YES), a scholarship from the U.S.
Department of State meant to bridge
understanding between Muslims and
Americans—especially after the 9/11
tragedy.
It was always my dream to go to
the United States. The best part? It’s
a full scholarship.
I started the YES selection in 10th
Grade. The year-and-a-half process
was full of waiting and uncertainty,
and I competed with 8,000 young
scholars from all over Indonesia.
Then the news came: I was selected
as one of 85 scholarship winners. The
process of my departure seemed so
fast—and in the next blink, I arrived
in the United States, the land of my
teenage dream.
Ninis Widyaningrum (middle) shows off her homemade pants for Homecoming
at Lakeville South High School. “Because I’m an exchange student, I wanted to
make them memorable,” she said.
just the same as in Indonesia. There
were people who tend to study more
than others, and people who were
noticeably popular.
GLARING DIFFERENCES
Another thing that I knew from
movies, but was still strange to experience, was when the bell rang. The
second the bell went off, everybody
got up and left even though the
teacher was still talking in front of
the class. The first time I saw that, it
felt … wrong.
Back home, sometimes teachers
don’t hear the bell and will continue
to talk in front of class. Even then,
we would wait for our teacher to stop
talking and remind them politely, or
just wait until they realized it’s time
for us to go.
The second thing that I noticed
is how American girls present
themselves. The fact that they wear
makeup every day to school isn’t
surprising. I’m a fan of “Pretty Little
Liars” and I pay attention to how
Aria Montgomery goes to school
with a bunch of makeup. Some
girls wake up very early to put on
eyelashes and curl their hair. Even at
school, there’s always some girl with
her hair-straightener in the school
bathroom every morning!
In Indonesia, rules for girls have
been in place forever: We can’t wear
makeup, color our nails or wear
extreme accessories. Heck, we wear
uniforms! We are only allowed to
wear watches, simple bracelets or
earrings, rings and necklaces made
of noble materials (such as gold,
silver or platinum). The concept
of uniforms is to make all students
equal and diminish the social gap.
Since I have been exposed to
both cultures, it’s opened my eyes
to how Indonesian girls show their
true selves. It’s not that American
girls are fake—they are just really
dependent on makeup to cover their
insecurities. When I asked one of my
A SPECIAL EXPERIENCE
Overall, there’s a lot I’ve learned
from my exchange experience. It’s
not only about living like you’re in a
movie, having a year holiday or being
a new person in a whole new place.
Instead, it has opened my mind
about how unique we all are.
We’re the same, yet different. We
all want people to understand and
love us. We need them to. It’s just
that our countries take very different
approaches to this.
I am learning that the universal
language—smiling and laughing—is
really effective and heartwarming.
Having my friends greet me with my
name—which is hard for them to
pronounce and remember—or even
smile at me in a hall full of crowded
people is a wonderful feeling.
I have the door of opportunity
wide open in front of me. All of these
gifts make me realize that my dream
to explore the world is important. To
create new places to call “home,” but
still have my own home in Indonesia,
where I know my family and friends
are waiting for me.
These opportunities and relationships keep me going through this
once-in-a-lifetime exchange student
experience.
February / March 2014
9
“Pursuingan
undergraduate
degreewasthe
bestdecision
I’vemadeinmy
life;ithasgiven
mesomany
opportunities.”
SERENA XIONG ’13
ST. OLAF COLLEGE
Augsburg College
Bethany Lutheran College
Bethel University
Carleton College
College of Saint Benedict
The College of St. Scholastica
Concordia College (MOORHEAD)
Concordia University (ST. PAUL)
Gustavus Adolphus College
Hamline University
Watch
the new
“Paying
for Private
College”
video online
Macalester College
Minneapolis College of Art and Design
Saint John’s University
Saint Mary’s University of Minnesota
St. Catherine University
St. Olaf College
University of St. Thomas
mnprivatecolleges.org/possible
10 threesixtyjournalism.org
“We talked with them as if they were part of the family. We were
their host mom and dad, and the kids were their sister and brother.”
—Erin Thompson, a Minneapolis mother and host to exchange students
exchange from page 8
MAKING ADJUSTMENTS
For Corbeil-Wild, the largest difference is
the social aspect.
“Kids my age go out until, like 6 in the
morning. That would never happen (in the
US). They have way more freedom (in Spain).
There’s more trust in kids,” she said.
Maja Caye, also a junior at Washburn,
had to re-adjust after spending the 2012-13
school year in Sweden. Now that she is back
in the United States, she finds herself missing
the versatility of life in Europe.
“When I first came back, I was super
excited to be with my friends and family. I
got back to doing all the normal things, like
going to the beach with my friends,”
Caye said.
“But as time goes on, it’s really hard,
because every single day I think about my
year away and what I would be doing right
now in Sweden. Like, it would be me on the
subway, or me on the train, or me hanging out
with my best friend, Alice, who I really miss.”
According to the Council on Standards
for International Educational Travel,
1,381 foreign students came to Minnesota
during the 2012-13 school year. That places
Minnesota fourth in the country for number
of students hosted. With 104 students traveling to other countries, Minnesota is also
second in outbound students.
Caye said observing and talking about
diversity with fellow classmates gave her a
greater appreciation for cultures outside
her own.
“My friend from Sudan, she was there
because her dad is the ambassador for Sudan.
Whenever I went over to her house after
school, she would, at certain times, put on a
full black headdress and pray right in front of
me,” Caye said.
“I would just be sitting on my bed texting
and she’d be praying. It was so cool. You
learn to adapt to everyone’s cultures.”
LIFE AT ‘HOME’
Caye is originally from Sweden and lived
with her extended family while she was
there—whereas most exchange students,
including Hainaut and Corbeil-Wild, have
no idea what their family will be like until
they step off the plane.
Some are an immediate match, while
others take awhile to get adjusted. A few even
end up switching host families because of
communication or personality problems.
Erin Thompson, a Minneapolis mother,
has been hosting exchange students for the
past four years. Her first exchange student,
Balazs from Hungary, came to her home
somewhat unexpectedly.
“We got a call in October (from the coordinator at her son’s school) that a guy from
Hungary was here and it didn’t work out with
the family he was staying with,” Thompson
said. “The mother wasn’t feeding him much
food and he needed a place right away. So we
thought, yeah, let’s do it.”
After hosting Balazs for a year,
Thompson and her family got hooked on
the hosting experience. Since then, they’ve
welcomed two more exchange students:
Masha, 16, from Poland, and Yurong, 18,
from China.
“We definitely make them feel really at
home, loved, and part of our lives … We
talked with them as if they were part of the
family. We were their host mom and dad, and
the kids were their sister and brother. They
were included as much as they absolutely
wanted to be,” Thompson said.
Hainaut and Corbeil-Wild will be
in their new “homes” for the next four
months. While they can’t predict the future,
they both realize it will have a lasting
impact on their lives.
“It’s good preparation for college next
year. I think I will try to keep in touch with
the friends I will have here,” Hainaut said. “It’s
a pretty amazing experience to meet a lot of
people, to learn about a different culture.”
Ra
ce
Coloring outside
the script lines
Are audiences able to look beyond race
when it comes to acting roles?
The wait seems like hours.
My heart races a million
times fast. My stomach flips like
an acrobat.
Though I’ve done this a million
times, each time feels like the first.
The list gets shorter. My name
gets closer. All of my anxiety and
nervousness becomes more intense.
The pressure is crushing me like
a ton of bricks.
“Amira!”
Amira
Warren-Yearby
St. Louis Park
High School
My name is called and I’m shaking. I walk into the auditorium and
try to retain slow and steady
… breaths.
One more deep breath.
And begin.
m
Monologue, singing, maybe
some dancing. The process usually
takes about three to five minutes.
The next day or two the list is
posted. I scroll down the names.
Lead roles: white girl, white boy.
Supporting role: white, white, white.
Oh hey, supporting role: sassy black
girl, Amira. That’s me!
I jump for joy and my heart is
racing like it did at my audition.
But in the back of my mind there’s
a fire. I wonder, “Why can’t my name
ever be at the top of the list?”
I genuinely might not have been
the right fit for a lead role. Maybe I
didn’t hit all the right notes or pick
the right monologue. Right kicked
when I should have sashayed.
I always make sure to work on
improving my skills for the next
audition. I try to be realistic. But as I
look back on my life in theater, I feel
like I’ve been typecast. I’ll forever
QUICK Q&A … with Siddeeqah Shabazz
What’s it like being an actor of color? Amira Warren-Yearby sat
down with Siddeeqah Shabazz, an actor and teen programs specialist at
Pillsbury House Theatre in Minneapolis, to talk about casting issues related
to ethnicity.
Shabazz, originally from Oakland, Calif., has theater degrees from the
University of La Verne and the Guildford School of Acting in England. She has
performed on multiple stages, including Luna Playhouse, Electric Theatre,
Mixed Blood Theatre and The People’s Center. Her favorite roles include Evilene
in “The Wiz” and Shakespeare’s Othello.
What are some of casting challenges
that actors of color face?
As an African-American, you definitely start to think that you don’t
look like everyone else. And it’s hard
to get cast. It’s still hard. But I never
thought of it as a setback. That’s
actually what’s kind of great about
Los Angeles. It’s a double-edged
sword out there, but at least they tell
you what they want. You have to be
fit, blonde, white and thin. OK, that’s
the character. That’s it. “Oh, I don’t
fit those.” But at least you know.
Here, you’ll get, “Oh, everybody
can come.” But they still really mean
a white person. If it’s something
historical and they have to cast
Abraham Lincoln, you know it’s not
going to be a black person. Or if you
have German last names, or someone
from France, and you’re reading it
Siddeeqah Shabazz
… I mean, you know that you’re not
going to fit into this character who is
dating a white guy in America.
Does colorblind casting exist?
I think there needs to be more
honest colorblind casting. I think it’s
getting better. There are some things
be a character who is sassy, hopeless
and with lots of attitude.
I’ve wanted to be an actor ever
since kindergarten. SteppingStone
Theatre in St. Paul would perform
shows at my school, and from then
on, I was hooked.
My first show was in sixth grade.
I played Adriana in “The Black
Snowman.” Later, in eighth grade, I
played Frog in “A Year with Frog and
Toad.” It was the lead role and one of
my brightest moments.
In the summer before high
school, I played myself in a musical,
“Here’s Where I Stand,” with Project
Success. Entering my freshman
year, I thought to myself, “This is my
thing. This is what I love.”
And I was determined to continue this in high school.
In my first year, I auditioned for
“Little Shop of Horrors.” I landed the
role of Chiffon from the trio. They’re
a feisty group of girls, all about
attitude and hip shaking. It was fun,
plus I was the only freshman in the
main cast, which felt great.
That same year in the “Music
Man,” I played Alma, an uppity,
obnoxious, old smart aleck.
Sophomore year, I was Lorraine in
“All Shook Up,” the hopeless romantic with lots of spunk and attitude.
“Les Miserables”: girl number five,
the mean and jealous one with a
lot of attitude toward others. And
this year, even though I dropped
out of the show to focus on school,
I was cast as Lucille in “Once Upon
a Mattress.” She’s a member of the
sassy and stuck-up trio.
Sound familiar?
I’m not saying that I’ve never had
good roles. I’m grateful for all of the
experiences I’ve had in theater. But
there comes a point in an actor’s
career when you think, “Is that all I
have to offer? Is that all I’ll ever play?”
acting roles continued on page 14
where, you know, you see a certain
kind of black person on TV. Like, a
McDonald’s commercial is going to
have these deep, spoken word black
folks who all try to look Afro-centric.
There’s that type. It’s a step. I’m not
saying it’s the best step, but it’s happening slowly, surely.
Honestly, you never know what’s
going on in the head of a casting
director. Maybe they had the costumes ready and you just don’t fit in
one. You never know. I understand
that. I go through that. The only
thing I can do is go into the audition
and leave knowing that I did exactly
what I wanted to do. Sometimes you
have a great audition and you just
don’t get the role.
have to be that way. I was reading
about a recent show that literally had
colorblind casting, and it didn’t get a
good review. It said something about
how (the reviewer) couldn’t get into
it because of all the ethnicities. Isn’t
that unfortunate to say? If you can
place yourself in the 1800s in Italy,
and you’re in (2014) Minnesota, you
know, that’s OK. You can have a play
in space and believe it’s going on
there, but different ethnicities, that’s
what throws you off?
Do you think audiences would have a
hard time with colorblind casting?
I think audiences are conditioned to
say, ‘Well, you have these two parents
that look a certain way, so the kid
must look like this …” But it doesn’t
What advice do you have for young
actors of color?
Create your own work. When
there’s nothing out there, and that’s
the only way you can get seen,
create your own. New theaters are
popping up all the time because of
it. That’s how theater was started!
It’s a lot of work. It’s a long haul.
But if you feel like you’re not being
seen, do it yourself. There’s something powerful about that.
February / March 2014
11
Ra
ce
16
@
Albino. Muslim. Rapper. These are the characteristics that
tend to define Brother Ali in interviews.
Yet as you quickly learn in an hour-long conversation with
him, they are broad labels that don’t begin to describe a man who
has become one of the most prominent musicians in Minnesota.
As a teenager in the ‘90s, Ali began using the political fuel
of hip-hop to react to the same racial issues he faced as an
outcast growing up in the Midwest. Because of his physical
appearance—he’s legally blind due to albinism—Ali sought
a community he could belong to. African-American peers
welcomed him, and after an introduction to breakdancing, he
began to rap as a teenager.
“It was, like, a chance for me to be somebody in the
world. And a chance for me to take hold of the fact that everybody was looking at
me, and everybody was
Aamino
noticing me,” he said.
Hirmoge
“I was able to use that in
Harding High
a way that empowered
School
me instead of being
treated a certain way.”
Taking control of his identity also extends to religion. Ali converted to Islam when he was 15, a decision influenced partly by
hip-hop and Malcolm X—which proved to be his salvation when
friends around him began making unwise choices about drugs
and violence.
“I don’t know if I would have been able to stand up to the peer
pressure without something like Islam,” he said.
A member of Rhymesayers Entertainment, a local hip-hop
label that’s also home to Atmosphere and Evidence, Ali continues to stand up for what he believes in. His latest album, 2012’s
“Mourning in America and Dreaming In Color,” addresses slavery,
race, the Occupy movement, the hypocrisy of war—and perhaps
most important, the daily struggle
Has Brother Ali ever
he sees around him.
faced judgment in the
As part of ThreeSixty’s “Race
hip-hop community
Issue,” reporter Aamino Hirmoge
because of his skin color?
spoke with Brother Ali about his
Quite the opposite, he
rap roots, the effect racial idensaid: “There’s never
tity has on music and how he’s
been a dope ass white
endured a lifetime of labels—
rapper that hasn’t been
including one truly malicious
embraced.”
childhood nickname.
w/Brother Ali
Submitted
About this series
12 threesixtyjournalism.org
This marks the sixth installment of ThreeSixty’s “@16”
series, where our teen writers interview Minnesota newsmakers and difference makers about life as a 16-year-old
high school student. Who should we talk to next? E-mail
[email protected] with your suggestions.
What were your teenage years like?
It was crazy. I had a lot of different
kinds of things going on at the same
time. But I think it was seriously
defined by the political and economic environment. When I was a
teenager, it was the early ‘90s and the
crack epidemic was really big in the
Midwest. And racial tension was at
a high. Things were very, very tense
then … tensions were really high
and, you know, it was a lot of life and
death reality going on at the time
because of the drug situation.
So, that’s the time when, musically, hip-hop took a turn to being
really political … You know, Malcolm
X was really prominent during those
years. Spike Lee did the (“Malcolm
X” with Denzel Washington) movie
in, like ‘92 or ‘93. But the lead up to
that movie, it was like a three-year
lead up. And Malcolm was very
popular. That started because of
hip-hop. Because of Public Enemy
and people like KRS-One, those
people mentioning him or talking
about him, sampling his voice. And
then everyone knew that this movie’s
coming, so people were wearing
shirts with X on them. And just,
Malcolm was very, very popular.
I actually got the advice to read
his autobiography from KRS-One,
who was my favorite rapper at the
time. I went to a lecture that he did
… and that was all part of listening
to this music and seeing that race
tensions were really high. I was part
of a few different incidents at school
and stuff that almost turned into
like, riots. And you know, my friends
were shooting people, and getting
shot, and going to jail over drugs,
and drug money, stuff like that all
around me. All of those things were
going on. It was a serious time.
How did music shape those years?
Specifically, how did you come to
discover your hip-hop identity?
Well, the most important people in
my life from the time I was in second
The Brother Ali file
Profession: Hip-hop artist, signed to Rhymesayers Entertainment
Real name: Jason Newman
Age: 36
High school: Robbinsdale Cooper in New Hope (Ali dropped out before graduating and
has since become a stay-in-school advocate)
Find ’em: On Twitter @BrotherAli and www.brotherali.com
Best advice for teenagers: “Keep being in new situations and keep having to question
yourself and the things you think you know. Question what you think you know. Get in
a situation where your survival, and your happiness, and all that stuff, demands you to
question all the things you think you know.”
grade—you know, I didn’t have a
whole lot of friends. At all. And
being albino, and looking different,
and living in the Midwest, which
was highly segregated and not very
diverse … I moved every year.
That’s also when AIDS … so,
now I’m going back to when I was
little to kind of give some context.
When I was in elementary school,
that’s when AIDS first started to
become known. So, at one of the
schools, just to give an example of
what my relationship was like with
other kids—that was my nickname
in school. AIDS. Like, that was my
name at school.
Nobody knew my name at school.
AIDS was my name.
Just to be mean to you? Kids called
you AIDS?
Yeah, yeah. Because they’re just like,
“Yeah, he has AIDS.” Nobody knew
what it was, you know what I mean?
There was a mystery around it. So I
had to experience that. Those were
the situations I dealt with at that
time in the Midwest. Like, now, in
Minneapolis and St. Paul, there’s a
Hmong community. There’s a Somali
community. You know, people from
entire areas. But at that time in those
little cities, it wasn’t like that. It was,
maybe 90 percent white and 10 percent black, then maybe like, an Asian
family or a family from India. Those
places just weren’t diverse.
And so, all of the important
people in my life … the only time that
I ever had friends at all was when I
started to form a connection with the
black community. And so, that was
my whole existence in life. And it was
that way from the time I was seven
years old until I started doing underground rap. My friends, when I was
a kid, were “b-boys.” They were break
dancers. They were into rap.
And so I got into the music
through dancing, you know … in the
‘80s. But that time I talked about,
when you know, the lyrics got really
important, rap lyrics were changing
people at that point. If you look at
Malcolm X and Martin Luther King,
you know—Public Enemy and Ice
Cube and Rakim, those people were
our Malcolm X’s. People that listen
to that music felt like they were part
of a movement, and a lot of us were
… feeling this impact.
That’s when I was like, “OK,
dancing is fun and all that … but
rapping needs to become my culture,
my expression.” When I turned 13,
14, that’s when I knew I was going to
actually rap.
What was the response?
The response was always really good.
Partially because I’ve always been
good at it, and I’ve always spent a lot
of time working on it. Like, I always
literally memorized everything that I
could get my hands on. So I memorized every rap lyric that I could
own for a 10 or 15-year period. And
I still know them all. Every word
that existed in all the important rap
music from, like ‘85 to ‘95, that tenyear period.
Also, it meant a lot more to me
because when I would go to new
schools, or I’d be in new environments, I obviously looked really
different. So everybody notices that
right away. But then, the ability to
rap? I could shift the attention I was
getting into something that I could
be celebrated for rather than, you
know, being made fun of.
Were you ever discriminated against
or bullied because of your choice in
music?
When I think about bullying, I think
of something physical. And I was
always able to shut that down. So I
wouldn’t say bullied. But I was ridiculed, mostly from white people.
There were the white kids, that
without having a great connection
to black people, wanted to adopt
certain elements of blackness, as
like, a costume, instead of developing themselves as individuals. They
kind of took on this persona that
had nothing to do with their own
experiences. And those white people
actually hated me.
They had the mimicry thing going
on. And I think they were really
jealous of me because I was actually
living the life that they were trying
to emulate. But the difference is that
they were trying to put it on from the
outside, whereas mine came from
the inside out.
There was a time where I felt like
I needed to somehow differentiate
myself from those people, but after
awhile, I realized that the best thing
to do is just let time be the teller.
That in time, things would happen
where genuine people would prove
themselves genuine. I did go through
a period where I was trying to prove
like, “I’m not like those guys.” And
after awhile, I realized that I was
honoring them too much by doing
that. That they weren’t important
enough for me to prove that I’m not
them. They did not matter.
Why did Islam appeal to you? How
did it shape you?
Religiously and doctrine wise, it
Brother Ali continued on page 15
February / March 2014
13
Ra
ce
ink from page 7
20 years ago, you wouldn’t see a grandma
getting one. It wouldn’t have been accepted.
Now, I tattoo whole families from 18 to 75.”
Or as Marie said: “When I was little, my
parents told me tattoos were horrible and it
was the worst choice to ever do. Now they’re
kind of learning that it doesn’t affect your
character as a person.”
Married couple Teresa and Brian Morrill
of Apple Valley still don’t agree about tattoos.
Teresa loves them. Brian would never get one.
Yet even with different opinions, Brian
admitted that he can respect the art—which
is why he was willing to accompany his wife
to a tattoo convention.
As for when their kids should get one …
“If 18 is the legal age, that’s when they can
do it,” Teresa said.
“I’d tell them to wait until they’re a little
older, maybe closer to 21, to make a permanent
choice. It’s going to last a lifetime,” Brian said.
FIND A PROFESSIONAL
That permanence, more than anything, leads
to complete agreement from artists and older
fans: Getting a tattoo professionally done is
the only safe and smart solution.
If teens want tattoos, they’ll find a way
to get them—whether it’s a friend who
knows a friend willing to tattoo someone
in a basement or a teenager using a safety
pin to carve his or her arm, then filling it
in with eyeliner ink.
However, that can mean dirty needles,
contamination, serious infections like HIV
or Hepatitis C, and a lifetime of regret,
Donner said.
“Teenagers by nature are defiant. So, I
mean they’re going to do what they want to
do—even if all the right information is out
there,” he said.
KNOW A TEEN
WHO IS MAKING A
DIFFERENCE?
ThreeSixty Journalism is seeking local
teenagers who are making a unique
difference in the community to profile for
publication. Nominate a teen who’s started
a business, overcome personal odds, led a
meaningful movement or defied the teenage
stereotype in another way.
Contact editor Thomas Rozwadowski at
[email protected] or 651-962-5269
to nominate yourself or another teen.
14 threesixtyjournalism.org
acting roles from page 11
some fans on Twitter claiming that Rue being
African-American “ruined the movie” or didn’t
make her death “as sad.”
Can the color of someone’s skin really ruin
a role in a movie, TV show or play? Does skin
color really affect the connection you have
with a character?
The book even describes the characters as
having “darker” skin tones and eyes. The whole
district is also primarily black with working
conditions that are compared to ones found
during slavery.
Sadly, I’ve come to learn that it’s all about
how the audience mentally pictures the character and less about telling a good story. Give
the people what they want, right?
Except I want to be the damsel in distress.
I want a story that ends in happily ever after.
I want to inspire and represent other ethnic
actors by landing a lead role.
I want to grow.
But apparently because of my skin color,
it’ll take a lot for that to happen. And even if it
does, someone will probably still say that they
can’t connect with me.
storytelling from page 6
“Prostitution generally is your last alternative. Who wants to sell their body to a
stranger? Nobody. So this is the last option,
the end of the road,” Galloway said.
“Their family has been poor, and they
end up working in the streets. The more the
minimum wage stays the same, the more
prostitution there’ll be. There’s this direct
correlation between economic equity and
prostitution.”
Her ultimate hope is this: “Together in
this nation, we will find the moral courage to
change the conditions that compel females to
sell what is sacred.”
And when the time comes to audition for a
new role, I feel like I already know the verdict.
“What does he or she have that I don’t?”
As an African-American actor, I can’t
help but think that for most roles, since
people already picture a character as white,
that’s all it can ever be. Or conversely,
maybe I was only picked for a certain one
because of my Afro.
Historically, there’s been a double standard. Natalie Wood famously played Maria,
a Puerto Rican, in “West Side Story.” Mickey
Rooney played Mr. Yunioshi, a Japanese man,
in “Breakfast at Tiffanys.” White actors pretend
to be everything from Native American to
Asian to African-American. I could go on and
on with recent examples.
Yet it appears that some viewers have problems with black actors playing key roles, which
is devastating and counteracts any progress
that has been made in the Hollywood or theater community. Take “The Hunger Games.”
There were race controversies over the black
characters Rue, Thresh and Cinna—with
chose to work as prostitutes. And they were
far more likely to see prostituted women as
victims.
This was a pilot study, and Johnson plans to
do further research. But she is excited by what
she’s found so far.
“It definitely seemed to change views, going
from a more negative point of view on the
women involved in the sex trade to a more
positive one,” she said.
Galloway is also hopeful. She believes the
stories may be powerful enough to change
minds and policies.
Strong voices
Carlson, an international travel and hospitality company
based in Minnetonka, is committed to protecting children
from sexual exploitation and trafficking. The firm trains all employees in its hotels to
recognize and report suspicious activity.
As part of its commitment to protecting women and children, Carlson is supporting
ThreeSixty Journalism’s coverage related to the empowerment of young women during the
2013-14 school year. We are deeply grateful for this support.
brother ali from page 13
really spoke to me. I was always
really spiritual and I wanted to
believe the Christianity that I was
being taught. But I just couldn’t.
There were, like, theological
things and doctrine things that I
just couldn’t believe. And hearing
Malcolm X’s teachings just solidified it that much more to me.
But then also external things—
the fact that everybody respected
Islam. So even though all of my
friends were smoking, drinking,
selling drugs, carrying guns, getting in fights and having sex, all
that, my spirit was (saying) that
wasn’t me.
Whereas if you were a Muslim,
and you really were about that life,
that was respect. And that’s where
the name Brother Ali came from.
(Friends) would be playing dice or
smoking or whatever, but when I’d
come around, they’d be like, “Oh,
don’t do that around Brother Ali.”
It was almost like a title of respect.
So, there was that.
What advice do you have for
teenagers who are exploring their
identity for the first time?
To me, the coolest thing about
being a youth is that you’re in a lot
of situations that aren’t comfortable and aren’t all set up for you
to be comfortable. I think that’s
a huge opportunity. It used to be
that you get married, you start
having kids and you’re expected
to work. It’s a new phenomenon
to have a maturing, early adult
set-like mind—a real sense of
things and not have to take care of
all your needs. And most people
waste that time. But the people
that see it for what it really is and
make use of it, you could do some
really amazing things.
This interview transcript has been
edited. For a longer version, visit
www.threesixtyjournalism.com.
Ra
ce
Drowning out
the noise
Musical tastes don’t have to be
defined by skin color, peer groups
The piano starts to play.
I recognize the tune immediately:
“Welcome to the Black Parade” by
My Chemical Romance. It’s such a beautiful melody to
start a song with.
When I listen to it, all my
fears go away and I feel like I can
conquer anything. It does what a
good song should do.
Lead singer Gerard Way finishes the first verse, giving way to
massive drums and guitars as the
song transforms into an all-out
celebration. I picture the black
parade roll out on a destroyed
street, just like in the music video.
I see the band giving it their all on
the float.
I’m not paying attention to the
commotion on my bus in St. Paul.
I’m fully immersed in the music.
The guy behind me taps my
shoulder. I look over to see a black
kid around my age, dressed in
hip-hop attire.
“You listen to that heavy metal
stuff?” he says.
“You think you’re white? Listen
to something normal, not this
white music.”
(Sigh). This again?
I’ve been asked so many times
why I listen to certain types of
music. It all follows the same
refrain: “Why do you listen to
white music?” “Do you think
you’re white?”
I’ve also grown ridiculously
tired of being called an “Oreo” and
Aamino
Hirmoge
Harding High
School
being accused of not acknowledging my race as my own. All
because of the music I listen to.
I listen to all types of music,
anything from rap to rock, pop
to indie. Some of my favorite
artists and bands include My
Chemical Romance, Fall Out Boy,
Green Day, System Of A Down,
Marilyn Manson, Mindless Self
Indulgence, Lady Gaga, Queen,
Two Door Cinema Club, Tegan
and Sara, M.I.A. and Macklemore.
When I listen to a song, I
listen to the message, rhythm and
artistry. I don’t pay attention to
stereotypes or what the singer’s
race is. That’s how music should
be absorbed. If you like it, then
enjoy it. Who cares if it’s a white
rapper or a black singer?
Around eighth grade, the song
“3” by Britney Spears was a huge
hit among my peers. Whenever
the sexually explicit song played
on the radio, I’d think, “Why is
this on the radio? I don’t relate
to this. There’s no point to it.” So
I started listening to indie rock,
and in later years, heavier rock
and “smarter” pop that doesn’t
constantly reference sex, drugs
and clubbing.
I can see where the stereotypes
in music come from. People tend
to look for artists who they can
relate to, and unfortunately, that’s
often about appearance or what
everyone else in their circle of
friends might listen to.
The stereotype also comes
from race distribution in the
music field. Black artists dominate
the hip-hop, R&B and soul scenes,
while whites are the majority in
rock, country and folk music.
But there are some that cross
color lines. Lenny Kravitz is probably the most well-known example of a modern-day black rocker.
Lajon Witherspoon, lead singer of
Sevendust, is black. Darius Rucker
is a black country artist.
It’s not just a black and white
issue, either. Dir En Grey is one of
the few Japanese rock bands. The
late Freddie Mercury of Queen
was from Zanzibar and grew up
in India, and we all know how
famous he was.
Yet people constantly stereotype music and expect that only
one race can “own” a specific
genre. Anyone who doesn’t follow
these “rules” will be questioned
I can see where the stereotypes in music
come from. People tend to look for artists who
they can relate to, and unfortunately, that’s often about
appearance or what everyone else in their circle
of friends might listen to.
and criticized by peers.
For example, a white person
who likes rap and dresses in a
hip-hop manner gets called an
ugly term like “wigger”—someone
who is white and acts “black” or
“ghetto.” But take a look around—
there are more white rappers
than ever, be it Macklemore,
Mac Miller, Eminem, and locally,
Brother Ali and Slug from
Atmosphere.
Where would those rappers
be if someone had made them
feel guilty about listening to
“black” music when they were
young? Where would Run
DMC be if they’d refused to
work with Aerosmith on “Walk
This Way” because rock music
was “too white?”
A great example of uniting
through music was the kick-off
ceremony for the 2010 World
Cup in South Africa. A group
of multicultural artists, including Shakira, Black Eyed Peas and
K’naan performed.
While K’naan sang “Waving
Flag,” you could see everyone
in the audience getting into the
music, cheering and raising their
hands throughout the song. They
weren’t divided into nations or
races. They were one.
It was beautiful to see that
on live television—thousands of
people from all over the world, of
all skin tones and races, uniting
because they related to a song.
Look, I know people will continue to judge my music preferences. I get that it won’t stop until
music genres—and expectations
for each other—become more
racially diverse.
When someone challenges me
about listening to My Chemical
Romance or Macklemore, all I’m
going to say is, “Define white
music. Define black music.”
Why create a racial divide
where it doesn’t need to be?
February / March 2014
15
On Martin Luther King Jr. Day,
21 Twin Cities students participated in a ThreeSixty
multimedia project centered on microaggressions—
or as defined by Columbia University psychologist
Ra
ce
“the daily verbal,
behavioral or environmental
indignities, whether intentional or
unintentional, that communicate
hostile or negative racial slights
toward people of color.” ¶ Inspired by a Fordham
Derald Wing Sue,
Photos by Victoria Turcios
victoriaturcios.smugmug.com
Special thanks to
Kyndell Harkness, Star Tribune
interviews about race our writers have compiled for
this issue, ThreeSixty’s hope is that these powerful
student voices will create greater dialogue in local
schools and communities.
¶
The topic of race isn’t
easy to talk about. But our aim is simple: If we’re
genuinely curious, how can we ask others about
their race or religion without offending? What can
we learn from each other?
¶
Please share your
own microaggressions or advice about the
above questions on our ThreeSixty Facebook page. Also, for videos
University photo project, ThreeSixty asked its students to write down a
of our students discussing their microaggression sign, visit www.
microaggression they’ve experienced. Together with several essays and
threesixtyjournalism.org or our YouTube channel.
“You’re not black”
Three minutes before I’m late
to class.
I dodge students jogging to their
next hour, bags bouncing so loudly I
can hear rattling books and pencils. I
quickly glide through the fluorescent
lit hallways praying I won’t be late
again.
My typical route to third hour
Civics brings me past the same
cliques. I arrive to class with just
enough time to spare when I notice
the usual crowd of African-American
teens clustered by the entrance.
I know most of them; half I’d consider close friends. They’re blasting
Lil Wayne through someone’s phone
speaker. Everyone simultaneously
belts aye aye aye to the beat of the
song. I stop to listen.
16 threesixtyjournalism.org
Deborah
Honore
John F. Kennedy
High School
Yeah, I know this one. I bounce
along too, even throw in an aye.
I laugh at the guys who are enthusiastically bobbing their heads with
the bass and jokingly singing along. I
head to my seat with a smile, replaying the medley in my head.
A few desks away, another group
of friends is talking and laughing in
the corner of class. Out of curiosity, I
walk over to hear the joke.
“Hey, what’s so funny?”
“You didn’t see them?” Amber
giggled.
“See what?”
“That group of ghetto black kids
outside of the class,” Josh chimed in.
“You guys, they were just listening
to music”—like I had to apologize for
relating.
“Yeah, but do they have to be so
bla ….” Amber paused awkwardly.
“No, say it. You’d say it if I wasn’t
here. Do they have to be so black,
right?”
“I’m so sorry, Debbie. I didn’t
mean to offend you,” Amber said.
“Why on earth would that not
offend me?
“Well, you don’t count,” Josh said,
backing up Amber.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know, you’re not like them.
You’re different,” he said with a nervous hint in his voice.
I stared at him, confused. He’s
talking about me like I’m some type of
hybrid out of a science-fiction flick.
Amber, sensing Josh was treading dangerous water, attempted to
clarify.
“What Josh is trying to say is we
don’t … consider you ... see you as …
black.”
“Exactly, you’re not really black,”
Josh said, as if a big weight had come
off his shoulders.
I got up, walked to my seat, and
said nothing. I walked to my next
class. Again, nothing. For the rest
of the day, those words echoed in
my head.
You’re not black.
m
After that day, I became obsessed
with “the black identity.” I dissected
current and past black cultures. I
watched YouTube videos on leaders like Martin Luther King Jr., Ella
Fitzgerald and Maya Angelou. I listened to mainstream hip-hop artists
like Lil Wayne and Drake to see what
I was missing.
How could these two cultures be
so different? How can one emphasize
community so much while the other
focuses so heavily on the individual?
I didn’t know which black culture
I fit in, so … am I not black? What
was wrong with me? What was I
doing wrong? I felt like Sojourner
Truth: “Ain’t I a (black) woman?”
Because of Josh and Amber, I had
been made to feel as if I no longer
fit my birthright. Except the more I
thought about it, I began to realize
that I hadn’t lost my blackness. It had
been taken away from me.
The image of black that Josh
and Amber described was built on
stereotypes—the same ones I saw
when I looked up Lil Wayne and the
hip-hop community.
Ratchet. Ghetto. Thug.
stereotypes continued on page 24
Deborah Honore
“I’m so confused. I don’t
understand why my
skin tone correlates to
my intelligence. Like, it
baffles me. I just thought
we could be over this, and
we’re not … We can be so
much better than this.”
February / March 2014
17
Ra
ce
“You’re only pretending”
Minneapolis? I feel eyes on
If you’ve ever moved
Brianna
me, judging: “She’s white.”
away from your childSkildum
“She’s not white.”
hood home, you might
Roosevelt
How should I speak
know what it’s like to see a
High School
when I’m at school? “She
familiar place yet feel like
only calls herself Native to
you no longer belong.
get attention.” “She doesn’t
For instance, you might
walk past the house you grew up in and see new use ‘Rez English.’ She’s not one of us.”
How should I respond to my peers? “She just
people living in it, or notice that the wallpawants to be better than us, which she isn’t. She’s
per from your bedroom has been torn off and
just white like the rest of us.”
replaced with beige paint.
Being Native offends whites, being white
As a Native American, I feel alien in my own
offends Natives. I can’t win.
land. Some of my peers, along with adults who
I remember an incident from fourth grade
I’ve just met, make me feel like I don’t belong.
during show and tell when I decided to highI’m sure it’s the same for other people and
light my moccasins, which were very important
races, but I feel like this all the time.
I am a Native American. Native to this coun- to me. When it was my turn to share, I put
them on, played Native music and proudly
try. My father is as close to being a full-blooded
began to dance. But after I started, another
Ojibwe Native as you get in his generation, and
girl in my class began mocking the music. The
I consider myself Native because of the way we
teacher repeatedly asked her to stop, but she
carry out our daily lives.
replied, “What? I’m only pretending, like she is.”
We respect the music, dance and food.
I hated it so much. She thought I was “just
We follow the same rituals of our ancestors.
Whether attending powwows, dancing, singing, pretending” to be Native.
It works the other way, too. My dad always
smudging (cleansing one’s body with smoke
from sage) or going to lodge, we pride ourselves talks about how the Native community is
accepting of others but hard on its own.
on being very traditional.
Though elders say that he is true Native, the
Yet I’m always asking myself why I feel like I
majority of his peers criticize the way he
don’t belong. Why I feel so different.
speaks, what he does for a living and judges the
I don’t fit in with the typical “white girl”
fact that he married my mother, who is white.
group. My skin isn’t light enough, I’m not a
He’s “American”—or at least is trying too hard
blonde cheerleader-type, and I don’t use the
to be.
same off-putting slang as my peers.
Yet our family accepts and follows Native
But I also don’t fit in with the “true Native”
traditions. We smudge. We go to lodge. We
group since my skin and hair are too light for
pray to the creator.
them. Because appearance is so important, I
But those traditions aren’t enough. We are
always feel compelled to hide my face or tell
still outcasts because of ethnic factors beyond
Natives I meet for the first time that, yes, I
our control.
am one of them. That way, they don’t get the
There shouldn’t be one defining characterischance to decide for themselves.
tic of a mixed race teen. Why can’t we all just be
So what am I?
who we are and say what we want to be? Why
Both sides tell me that I don’t belong and I
do we have to fit neatly in the same group as
should stick with “the other side.” Yet I’m also
determined by someone else?
not allowed to call myself Native or white since
Especially with our generation, since interI don’t fully fit the general “being” of either title.
racial marriage is only going to increase. Pretty
When they look at me, they say that I am
soon there won’t be a person alive who belongs
something other than what I am. Why can’t I
to a singular race.
just be?
So let’s stop trying to force everyone into
It’s all confusing to me. How should I act
one.
when walking to my job on Lake Street in
18 threesixtyjournalism.org
Brianna Skildum
“It hurts that they judge
me by what I look like
rather than the things
that I do. I am one of
the people in the Native
community that actually
appreciates being Native.”
Aamino
Hirmoge
“I know what race I
am. I look in the mirror
every day. I identify as
a black person. And
you’re telling me
that because of the
music I’m listening
to, I think I’m white?
No! That’s not how
it works.”
Victoria Turcios
“Mexican isn’t a language.
It’s where you come from,
an origin. Spanish is a
language. People all over
Latin America speak it,
but that doesn’t justify
people saying those kinds
of things.”
Kimberly Martinez
Madie Ley
“You can’t just assume
“It makes me feel like
that everyone is an illegal
I can’t have a sense of
immigrant or that it’s
uniqueness or that I can’t
a bad thing. Because
be different. That just
sometimes students that
because I’m white, I’m
are illegal immigrants,
this generic blank slate.
it wasn’t their choice …
I can’t have an opinion.
and their parents brought
I can’t support … or
them here.”
empathize.”
Nichelle Heu
Mina Yuan
“I’m just tired of
“The teacher (who made
explaining myself—
the comment) was
who I am, what I do,
basically assuming that
and what my culture is.
we were immigrants
It makes me feel like
and that we don’t speak
they can’t tell me (apart)
English, even though we
from different races. I
do because we were all
feel like I am the same
born here … She was
as everybody, and I am
treating us as if we were
not. I am one of a kind.
less than she was.”
Hmong.”
Amira
Warren-Yearby
Riley Davis
“It makes me feel
status as a black person
pissed off, because I
is invalid—because I
like being black. And
don’t fit a stereotype.
I don’t like it when
That I don’t get to identify
people try to degrade or
myself as being black
put down other people
because I don’t fit … the
that look like me based
requirements of being
on how a small group
black.”
“It makes me feel like my
of people act that look
like me.”
February / March 2014
19
Freddy McConnell
Ingrid Sabah
“Not every tall, black,
“It’s not OK, because …
physically fit guy plays
they’re trying to put me
basketball. Maybe I want
in their little boxes. Like,
to do theatre and be
I am not as urban or as
an actor and not play
hip-hop … or I dress a
basketball.”
certain way and shop at a
certain place, and they’re
just like, ‘Oh, you’re not
like the rest of them.’”
Shay
Radhakrishnan
Sagal Abdirahman
“It’s just irritating to me,
being curious, because I
because they assume I
like when people ask me
know everything about
questions about what I
computers just because
wear or where I am from.
I’m Indian and I’m
Anybody can ask me why
suddenly tech support.”
I wear a hijab, but … a lot
“I don’t mind people
of times it comes off as
rude, but they just don’t
realize it.”
Andi Nadya
Amanda
Darwesh Singh
“Everybody who (meets)
regardless of the
me for the first time,
situation. Sometimes …
they say … ‘Oh no, I
I don’t even see them
thought you’re bald.’
there, and I just hear a
And then I say, ‘So, does
question (shouted out)
it matter if I’m bald or
like, ‘What do you have
not? I’m still human and
under there?’”
I’m a girl.’ Because in
my religion, they say,
‘Cover anything that you
think is beautiful.’ ”
20 threesixtyjournalism.org
“It happens anywhere,
Danielle Wong
“(It can be) kind of
flattering that they
assume that I always
reach for the stars, but
then again, it also makes
the Chinese person or
Asian person feel like they
need to please, and that
is not OK.”
Baou Lee
“I would always get this
said to me because
I wouldn’t be in the
kitchen helping the
other ladies serve the
guys … I don’t really
need to do this because
I don’t feel obligated. I
don’t even know you.”
Alayna Xiong
“Just because I have
smaller eyes or I have
yellowish skin or black
hair, that doesn’t make
me Japanese. Why do
you have to think that
all Asians are Japanese,
Chinese or Korean? I
mean, there are more
than that.”
Ra
ce
“Well then, what are you?”
“Mom’s teaching me
how to mix colors. She says
that if I mix red, yellow,
black and white paints in
the right combination, I
will have the right brown
for a picture of me.
“The right brown? But Mom, brown is
brown,” I say.
“That’s not so,” Mom says. “There are lots of
different shades of brown.”
This is a passage from one of my favorite
books as a child, “The Colors of Us” by Karen
Katz. The story is about a little girl who wants
to paint a self-portrait. Originally, she believes
that there is only one shade of brown, but her
mother—an artist—teaches her that there are
actually many different shades. As a multicultural couple, my parents
believed that it was important to read books
like “The Colors of Us” so that I understood
those lessons. My dad, who is black and MexicanAmerican, is slightly lighter than milk chocolate. My mom, who is Canadian and Jamaican,
is the color of flan coated with caramelized
sugar. My younger sister and I are a mix, but
her skin color is still slightly different from
mine. She is the color of creamy caramel, and I
am the color of milky espresso.
Like the girl in the book, I would often
mix colors to create these shades because my
20-count box of crayons only gave me three
options—peach, yellow or brown. There was
no in-between. As a little kid, that would often
upset me. Didn’t the people who made crayons know
that there was more than just one color of
brown?
Outside of my family, the world didn’t seem
to know either. When most people looked at
me, they only saw one ethnicity: Mexican. That
still happens. In fact, it’s only become worse as
I’ve grown older.
think
spot
I’ve always found this
funny since Mexican is
actually the least of what
I am—25 percent—yet
because of my last name,
tan skin and bold facial features, that’s all people seem
to see. Often they’re surprised when they find
out that I don’t speak Spanish or have tacos for
dinner every night. “Well then, what are you?”
When I tell them, they’re surprised.
“You’re black?”
I get this all the time. Apparently I’m too
light skinned. “Don’t they realize that there are
many shades of black?” the little girl inside me
wants to ask. “But you don’t talk black or act black.”
Oh, you mean ghetto? I’m black, and the
way I speak is the way I speak. So tell me, how
is that not talking black?
Here’s the problem: Most people perceive
being black as acting ghetto—or “street”—but
for my family and plenty of others, that’s not
the case. My black heritage consists of listening to jazz
and making collard greens and sweet potato pie
on Thanksgiving. For me, that black heritage
also includes my Mom’s Jamaican roots, which
means listening to reggae and eating ackee and
codfish on Christmas morning.
There’s another part of my heritage that I
can’t ignore: Being Canadian. My grandmother
was from Toronto.
“Who’s that lady in the picture with you?”
friends will sometimes ask, followed by, “What?
You’re white?”
Her pale white skin, blonde hair and blue
eyes look very different from my tan skin, curly
brown hair and brown eyes. But she was just
“grandma” to me. A grandma who loved trips
to the park, tea parties and buying me lots of
stuffed animals. color continued on page 25
Simone Cazares
St. Paul
Conservatory
For Performing
Artists
Do you identify with one race more than another? Think about what has influenced
that decision. Are parents or peer groups a factor?
February / March 2014
21
Ra
ce
Mixed results
The challenges of being multiracial
go well beyond a checkmark
“German, British, Black,
Irish, Native … I think that’s it.”
This is how Elizabeth Wiley, 15, of
St. Paul describes herself. However,
on most forms, she can only mark
herself as “mixed”—which doesn’t
begin to capture the extent of her
ethnic diversity.
While some steps have been
taken to offer greater classification
and clarity for a new multiracial generation—for instance, 2000 marked
the first time that people could
identify as more than one race on the
United States Census—it isn’t true of
every form or application.
And let’s face it: “Multiracial is a
big word,” said Carolyn Liebler, an
assistant professor of sociology at the
University of Minnesota.
With mixed race individuals
often further restricted because of
Amolak Singh
Nova Classical
Academy
how complicated and diverse their
backgrounds are, perhaps trickier for
them is the desire to claim authenticity with—and belonging to—a single
racial community, Liebler said.
“There are many complications
and factors that play into racial
identity, and it is often subjective
to the race. For example, Native
Americans, even if they have three
white grandparents, are almost
certainly going to call themselves
Native because race is a political
issue for them,” said Liebler, who
wrote her dissertation on trends
within Native American identity.
shifting IDENTITIES
Change in identity is common,
although entirely unpredictable and
random, Liebler said. For example,
recent data shows that the number of
Native Americans who changed their
race from single to mixed is almost
the same as the number of Native
Americans who changed their race
the opposite way. Liebler has yet to
find a logical way to explain this.
“At first, we thought it might just
be a bunch of teenagers messing
around on a form. But then we saw
that even old people were doing it,”
Liebler said. Further complicating
matters is that any noticeable trends
in mixed race identity also fail to correlate with gender or class.
It makes sense that personal
issues can also influence racial
identities, Liebler said. While some
multiracial individuals may choose
a race that is convenient for them—
based on how easy or difficult it
is to get a job or a scholarship, for
example—others pick their race
based on the inherent human desire
to fit in. For instance, multiracials
who decide to label themselves as
a single race often may do so to
increase their chances of finding a
partner, Liebler said.
“(Mixed race) people are more
likely to choose the race of the group
of people they live around or are
surrounded by,” she said. “While our
society is opening up, it still kind of
expects us to be of a single race.”
Those who struggle to belong to
a single group also experience setbacks in everyday life, said Liebler,
who cited a recent study about
how mixed race high schoolers
struggling with identity often had
worse grades and a worse social
life than their peers.
The conversation even extends
to President Obama. Born of a
black, Kenyan father and a white
mother from Kansas, Obama is
mixed race, yet doesn’t identify
himself that way—even though he
has the ability to on federal forms.
Despite being raised primarily by
his mother, Obama marks himself as black and is considered the
“black president, not the mixed
race president,” Liebler said.
“Obama made the politically
correct choice,” political scientist Robert C. Smith told the Los
Angeles Times after Obama’s
census choice became public.
“Even though they don’t
Ninis
Widyaningrum
say it, it automatically
“When I came here and
assumes that anyone
I saw the box and I had
who wears a turban and
to check the races, I was
is dark skinned is like,
confused. Because I had
a terrorist or someone
to check the race, and it
who is bloodthirsty,
just doesn’t matter what
even though that’s a
race we are. We are just
very small minority of
the same.”
Amolak Singh
people.”
22 threesixtyjournalism.org
“If he had come to Chicago calling himself multiracial, he would
have had no political career. And I
think if he called himself multiracial now, black people would see it
as a betrayal.”
According to the Times, in 2011,
the Census Bureau cited that “the
number of Americans who identified themselves as being of more
than one race in 2010 grew about
32 percent over the last decade. The
number of people who identified as
both white and black jumped 134
percent. Nearly 50 percent more
children were identified as multiracial, making that category the
fastest-growing youth demographic
in the country.”
Savannah Broadnax, 15, a student at St. Paul Conservatory for
Performing Artists, said that her
racial identity has evolved based on
her surroundings. Broadnax’s father
is African-American, while her
mother is white. Although she considers herself to be black, her identity
has shifted with age.
“When I was little, I kept my hair
straight, and did other things to try
to fit in,” said Broadnax, who went
multiracial continued on page 25
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24 threesixtyjournalism.org
Lacrosse
Tennis
Softball
Baseball
Cross Country
Soccer
stereotypes from page 16
Stereotypes that many black teens follow as
a guideline to define themselves as authentically black.
Because I don’t follow those same stereotypes, I’m not black.
I had to decide: Were Josh and Amber in
the wrong? Or were they innocently ignorant?
They didn’t know any better, so should I be
mad at them for what they’d said? Are they to
blame for my identity crisis?
I had so much bitterness toward this
narrow identity of black, but no outlet. I
became angry with the media and everyone
who enforced these stereotypes. I was so
mad that I decided if I couldn’t be “their
version” of black, then I didn’t want be black
at all.
I completely disassociated myself from the
stereotypical image Josh and Amber saw in
that crowd of students. I needed someone to
blame, so I blamed everyone who followed the
stereotypes.
The following week, I decided to find somewhere I could belong. I looked for students like
me who had been left behind, those stranded
to find an identity. You know how a common
hate can bring different people together?
Imagine a bunch of students that hadn’t made
the cut. Not just black either, but Hispanic,
Asian, white—you name it. Together we made
a diverse clique for ourselves.
None of us fit into our race assigned stereotype. Every day, we would poke fun at the
labels we hated so much. My Hispanic friend
would call herself a “beaner “ and “cholo.” My
Asian friends would poke fun at their math
skills. I’d make jokes about getting pregnant
and being a “baby mama.” We picked at each
other’s insecurities.
If we could make it funny, then it wouldn’t
be so hurtful, right?
Except the more I tried to smile through it,
the worse I felt. Perpetuating stereotypes felt
like a bigger disappointment than being sent to
a racial no man’s land.
Each day at lunch that I carelessly laughed
and joked only validated those stereotypes. I
became worse than Josh and Amber. I became
worse than the stereotypes that I hated so
much.
Because I knew better.
m
I sought answers from Wendy Burns, the
director of student activities and leadership
development at Hamline University, before
writing this piece. I asked Wendy, who is
African-American, whether her students have
struggled with the same problems. Also, I
wanted to know what she had learned from
her past when it came to stereotypes and insecurities based on racial identity.
She didn’t have one person or thing to
blame. Instead, Wendy explained that it’s a
mixture of students’ hunger for a community
and a lack of historical pride passed from
older generations that can lead to accepting
stereotypes. When you don’t have a strong
lineage to fall back on, or haven’t been told
what to stand up for and represent as a
culture, it’s easy to settle for someone else’s
interpretation.
For instance, a common black stereotype
is being uneducated. Wendy obviously didn’t
believe in that stereotype. Growing up, her
parents and elders told her, “Wendy, you can
be whoever you want to be. You can do whatever you want to do … you may have to work a
little harder to get there, but you can.”
She refused to fall into the common trap.
She chose not to “assimilate with the dominant
trait.”
Our talk opened me to important perspectives on stereotypes and how students struggle
with them. As I reflected on the incident with
Josh and Amber, I kept searching for someone
to blame, when in truth, I should’ve blamed
myself.
Stereotypes don’t define you. You define
yourself.
So, fine. I’m not black enough. I play
lacrosse. I’m in band. I love all music genres,
be it country, rap, classical, R&B and dubstep. I
fully enunciate my words. I love to learn. I suck
at basketball.
If the stereotypes are true, then I guess
Miley Cyrus and her Jordans are more black
than me.
When I look back at the incident with Josh
and Amber, I can’t help but laugh. I was so
angry and felt like a victim. While I was right
to speak up, I was just as ignorant about my
identity as they were. My friends said they
were sorry. To them, not being black was their
odd way of complimenting me.
I’m my own person. I’m Ethiopian,
Congolese and African-American. I’m
comfortable with black, white or multiracial
groups. Because I’m not scared of other backgrounds and cultures—and because I’m proud
of my own—I can relate to anyone. I realize
now that it’s a rare quality to have.
Before writing this piece, I wanted to have
solid answers about race relations. I wanted to
figure it all out in the hopes that this essay would
bring closure to me—and of course, the reader.
In the end, I simply learned that I like who I
am. I’m uniquely Deb.
That’s all the closure I need.
Color from page 21
black is brown is tan
is girl is boy
is nose is face
is all the colors
of the race
is dark is light
singing songs
in singing night
kiss big woman hug big man
black is brown is tan
this is the way it is for us this is the way we are
That’s “black is brown is tan,” a poem by
Arnold Adoff about a multicultural family with
multiracial from page 22
to a mostly white suburban school. ”Now, I’ve
really grown to love myself more and be myself,
no matter what the situation.”
Though her mom considers Broadnax to be
mixed race, she places a greater emphasis on
her African-American side.
“At first I really didn’t think about it. But at
some point, I realized that everybody considered me black, and so I started to identify
myself as African-American,” Broadnax said.
SPREADING AWARENESS
Examining appropriate racial and ethnic classifications has been the focus of Project RACE,
a national advocacy organization headquartered in California, since it began in 1991. The
organization’s goal to spread awareness has led
to legislation for multiracial classifications in
multiple states.
“Proper racial identification is important
for many reasons. First of all, words matter.
What you call people matters. The name for
African-Americans, for instance, changed
a black mom and a white dad. My parents also
used to read it to me as a child. The book even
spaces out the words to show that, although
families have different skin tones and ethnicities, they are still the same, still equal. My mom likes the multiracial label, while
my dad prefers to be more specific, identifying himself as a black man with Mexican
heritage. I’m not sure exactly how I want to
identify myself. Regardless, my parents wanted me to know
that no matter how I choose to identify, we are
all still the same, all still equal. And to never let
anyone tell me otherwise.
“This is the way it is for us, this is the way
we are.”
through the years for that very reason,” said
Edyn McLeod, 15, vice president of Project
RACE’s teen division.
“But it is more than that. Proper racial
identification can actually be a life or death
issue. Multiracial people are almost invisible in
medical data.”
McLeod, of East Brunswick, N.J., was
born from a Jamaican-Hungarian father and a
Belarusian mother. As the VP of Project RACE,
McLeod promotes her organization’s work
through social media.
“The way I look at it, I would never want to
choose one parent’s race over the other,” she said.
For young multiracials, identity is a lifelong
conversation. Since the data can be “messy,”
Liebler said, it is more important for mixed race
people to think about themselves individually
rather than categorically.
“They should be teaching us, rather than us
teaching them. They should tell us what they’re
experiencing, because we clearly don’t get it,”
Liebler said. “Embracing and exploring is much
better than choosing.”
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Microaggressions roll call
Sagal Abdirahman, St. Louis Park High School • Andi Nadya Amanda, Highland
Park High School • Riley Davis, Hamline University • Nichelle Heu, Harding High
School • Aamino Hirmoge, Harding High School • Deborah Honore, Bloomington
John F. Kennedy • Baou Lee, Bloomington John F. Kennedy • Madie Ley, Elk River
High School • Kimberly Martinez, Harding High School • Freddy McConnell, St.
Paul Conservatory for Performing Artists • Shay Radhakrishnan, Math and Science
Academy • Ingrid Sabah, Bloomington John F. Kennedy • Amolak Singh, Nova
Classical Academy • Darwesh Singh, Minnesota Transitions Charter School • Brianna
Skildum, Roosevelt High School • Victoria Turcios, Minneapolis Community
and Technical College • Amira Warren-Yearby, St. Louis Park High School • Ninis
Widyaningrum, Lakeville South High School • Danielle Wong, Eastview High School
• Alayna Xiong, Harding High School • Mina Yuan, Wayzata High School
S I G N U P AT T W I N C I T I E S . C O M
February / March 2014
25
YourTurn Winners
What have you
learned from failure?
The awesome job. The dream college. The spot on the JV basketball team.
Sometimes we simply don’t get what we want. Whether it’s because of
something completely out of our control, or something we did or didn’t do—
we still perceive it as failure. But, how we react to and learn from a setback is
what will impact the future.
The winning essays detail a hardship and how the writer overcame it.
Rather than dwelling in the disappointment, the essayists triumphed thanks
to persistence and personal reflection.
First place ($100 prize)
LaMyiah Harvel,
Central High School
Judge’s notes: “A genuine and
heartfelt reflection on the writer’s
situation. Not only did she give
insight into what she learned from
the incident, but how loved ones
around her were also affected.
Made for a compelling story into
how she failed at something and
how she was able to turn it into a
positive in the end. The story had
clear details about what the failure
was, the progression (and repercussions) of her actions and the learning process afterward.”
When I first started high
school, I didn’t know what to expect.
I wanted my first day to be like the
movies. Get lost, sit at lunch with
strangers—who eventually become
friends—meet new friends, and go
home anxious to tell my parents how
wonderful my day was. My first day
didn’t turn out to be that way.
My first day of high school was
the day I experienced my first confrontation. A former classmate of
mine—that I had never gotten along
with—walked past me. Instead of not
saying anything, I impetuously spoke
out loud, calling her ugly. Words
were said between the two of us, and
eventually, she threw a textbook at
me, which hit my shoulder, barely
missing my face. My body began to
boil as my face turned red. Thoughts
rushed into my head all at once.
Second place ($50 prize)
Abigail Judge, Mounds Park Academy
Judge’s notes: “Bringing the ending precisely
back to the opening is a nice touch, especially
given the author’s enlightened understanding
of what makes her ‘kind of a big deal’ after the
initial failure. And the examples of how she
26 threesixtyjournalism.org
“Everyone is looking at you Myiah.”
“Are you going to stand for this?”
“Just let her win?” “Let it go?” “Or
fight?” Ignorantly, I followed the
thought that told me to get up and
show her I wasn’t anything to play
with. I fought her.
This began my first test of trying
to figure out who I really was as a
person. At the time, I felt like what
I did was right. She threw a book at
me. I’m not a pushover. All of the
time I sat in the principal’s office, I
made every attempt to make myself
believe everything was the other
girl’s fault.
That evening, I went home to a
screaming mom and the most disappointed dad. The principal of my
school personally called my dad. She
explained to him how hard it was to
get me into this school and how she
was second-guessing if it was a good
choice. The look on my dad’s face
brought me back to reality. He worked
hard to get me into Central. I don’t live
in the area, but he was determined to
get me into a good school.
That night, I was left with my
thoughts. I realized that I wasn’t
just showing myself what type of
person I could potentially be—I was
subsequently applied her learning are relevant
and thoughtful.”
I’m Abigail Judge and I’m kind of a big deal. It’s
an undeniable fact, or at least my sixth grade
ego assured me it was undeniable. I strutted
around silently believing I was the smartest sixth grader to grace the Earth—modesty
was not one of my strengths. Therefore, I had
to apply to the “tough program,” an ultracompetitive enrichment course. There was no
challenging academic subject that I had not
showing everyone around me. I was
showing staff, teachers, students,
coaches—everyone—that I was a
fighter. Knowing I let my parents
down was devastating. Was this who
I was becoming? A girl who lets her
parents down? Someone who is careless and comes to school just to get
into trouble? Did I even care about
my future?
That night I cried, both out of
frustration and confusion. This was
not who I wanted to be. I was worth
more. The people around me, that
take the time out of their day to be
with me, deserved better. My parents
deserved better.
My attitude about who I was
changed the next day. I decided I
wasn’t going to let the people around
me believe that I was a bad person. I
was better than what they had seen
the first day of school. I didn’t fight,
didn’t get suspended and didn’t get
sent out of class. I joined Girl Scouts
and got a mentor. I played sports and
had good grades.
At a young age, I didn’t know
who I really was. I had to go through
so much in order to actually know
what I stood for. To this day, I am
unsure of who the person LaMyiah
Harvel is, and will be, but there
are a couple things I do know for
sure. I know college is where I want
to be. I know that I am an ambitious young lady, and I am ready to
commit to my education. I joined
a college preparation class called
AVID (Advancement Via Individual
Determination) during my sophomore year. I’ve been through many
tests and have learned many lessons
and I am ready for the next step
toward my future goals.
High school isn’t yet over for me,
but I see the values in the lessons I
have learned. Besides keeping grades
up, staying away from the wrong
people and being involved, I will
have to go through so much more.
It will all be worth it. And maybe
someday I can tell my story to a
crowd of people.
Knowing I let my parents down
was devastating. Was this who I was
becoming? A girl who lets her parents
down? Someone who is careless and comes
to school just to get into trouble? Did I
LaMyiah Harvel
mastered, so this program would be a breeze.
When the time arrived, I snatched the forms
and blazed through the cliché application
questions with an arrogant smirk. Not being
accepted seemed like an impossible outcome.
After unworried months spent bragging
to relatives and friends about the challenging
course—using rhetoric like “college-prep” and
“challenging” to convince them of my compatibility with the program—the long awaited
letter arrived. With one word, two syllables, my
narcissistic world disintegrated.
even care about my future?
Sorry.
And, I crumbled. With one word, my future
disappeared. I let down my family and friends,
and I let down myself. Suddenly I was not the
best or the smartest, I was a failure.
My life changed—but not in the dramatic
way I envisioned. It didn’t end, and my future
was not ruined; yet I predicted the end to my
egocentric world, and my competitive self
vanished. I emerged a light-hearted risk-taker,
impervious to the dread of failure. Leaving my
comfort zone became the norm, as sticking to
hand, driving. Though I
what I knew—logic-based
did not pass, I didn’t concourses like mathematsider myself a failure, as I
ics—seemed impractical
would have in sixth grade.
and unexciting. No longer
I regained composure
did applying for the PHAT
after shedding minimal
leadership program in
tears and rescheduled
eighth grade intensify my
my test, calling the first
stress because it was nonone a “test run.” However,
academic. I applied and
my greatest risk of all,
understood that I might
Abigail Judge
after days of contemnot be admitted. After
plation, was deciding to apply for
discovering I was welcomed into the
Yearbook Editor-in-Chief—despite
program, my ego did not inflate, I
the uncertainty of not getting the
thanked those who accepted me and
position—and competing against
gave myself a slight “pat on the back,”
close friends for the role. Sixth grade
quietly celebrating my successes.
Abbie would have forgotten friendAs life becomes more compliships and ruthlessly rivaled for the
cated and I become older, I remain
spot. But with my new and improved
high-spirited and adventurous.
attitude, I resisted competitiveness
Facing a milestone, the driver’s
and vowed to accept the outcome,
license test, I forgot the fears of not
favorable or not.
passing and focused on the task at
Third place ($30 prize)
Sanjay Lawler
Roosevelt High School
Judge’s notes: “Overcoming failure
by practicing is a great lesson to
learn, and this essay does a good job
of showing this with the example of
the writer trying to make a shot on
a regulation-size basket. I could just
see him trying again and again, and
could feel his pride in finally making
a shot. The essay also does an excellent job of explaining why failure can
be so fruitful in the closing section.
Well done.”
Failure is lack of success. It is mostly
always out of your control—and
you probably can’t predict that it’s
coming. However, once you experience failure, you can learn from it.
This might get you more determined
to try what you failed at again, but do
it differently and better the next time.
My life changed—but
not in the dramatic way I
envisioned. It didn’t end, and
my future was not ruined;
yet I predicted the end to
my egocentric world. . .
I’m Abigail Emily Judge and I
am kind of a big deal. However, not
because of my academic achievements or competitive attitude, but
because after my encounter with failure, I am adventurous enough to try
ambitious, nonacademic endeavors,
re-attempt a task after defeat, and
even take risks despite the possibility
of adverse outcomes.
in the official sized hoop. After I
When I was about four or five
made my first shot, I made another,
years old, my mom took me to the
and another, and another. I felt like I
park and I went to the basketball
couldn’t stop!
hoops. I tried to make a basket on
The day I made that first shot, it
the official sized hoop. First try, I
barely got the ball to hit the net. That felt like a great achievement. To this
day, I’m playing basketball almost
moment of failure was a blessing in
every day. I love basketball and I love
disguise. Another key part of that
getting better at it. But, on the days
moment is that I didn’t doubt myself.
when I lack confidence in my game,
I had a specific feeling and drive to
I sometimes refer to that story. The
make the basket on that official sized
story is one of the best life stories I’ve
hoop. I wasn’t focusing on how long
ever learned. It tells me today that I
it would take me. I focused only on
can achieve whatever I want. It’s just
making the basket.
about a matter of how much time
After I felt that motivation to
you put into it.
make my first basket in an official
This story of failure has led me to
sized hoop, I never doubted myself.
great things. I have met many friends
Starting the day after I failed to
through basketball. I’ve
make my first shot, my
gone out of my comfort
mom and I went to that
zone. I found something
same park every day after
in my life that I really
school. It took me weeks
love doing. Sometimes
and weeks to make my
it’s hard to find that
first basket. But, one day,
special something in your
I tried a shot—and it hit
life that you really love or
the backboard and went
want to get better at. This
through the hoop. I went
is why you shouldn’t be
to call my mom and I told
scared to fail.
her I made my first basket
Sanjay Lawler
ESSAY CONTEST
QUESTION
How do you balance the freedom to
be yourself on social media against
the risk of offending others or
damaging your reputation?
$100
for the winning essay
Cash prizes for
2nd and 3rd, too!
DEADLINE:
APRIL 11
Submit your essay at:
www.threesixtyjournalism.org/
YourTurnContest
Winning entries will be published
online at www.threesixtyjournalism.org
and in the May 2014 magazine issue
February / March 2014
27
Pieces of a puzzle
Adoption journey feels like
‘impossible scavenger hunt’
28 threesixtyjournalism.org
Lana
Rubinstein
River Falls
High School
Dec. 29, 1996 in Kazan, Russia.
But those are just facts.
I can’t deny the persistent desire
for the indescribable connection
one feels to a biological family
member. A connection similar to
the ones my friends, who are twins,
feel toward each other. And the one
that my sister, Aliya, 24, feels to my
adoptive mother.
Aliya knows the exact time she
was born. She looks in the mirror
and sees our mom’s bone structure
reflected. Her determination and
organizational skills are cut directly
from our mom’s character cloth.
I envy that.
Was I born in the early morning or mid-afternoon? I look in the
mirror and wonder if my biological
mother had the same unusual hazel
eyes as me or if I got my nose from
my dad. Where did my hyperactivity
come from?
I’ve always thought of myself as a
puzzle. I have some pieces, but I’m
still trying to complete myself.
So is my friend Emily. She and I
met at a Jewish event when we were
13. When it was my turn to share
an interesting fact during an icebreaker, I proudly announced that I
was adopted from Russia.
“You stole mine!” she gasped.
We’ve been friends ever since.
It’s a friendship based on mutual
history and experiences. She’ll
Submitted
I’m sitting on the ground,
picking flowers. She calls my name
in the distance. But as I turn around,
a milky fog obscures her face before
I can make out her exact features.
Startled awake, my alarm clock
reads 1:30 a.m. It’s a school night
and I should get some sleep, but my
mind races.
Is that really what she looks like?
Am I making her up? Will the fog
be thinner next time so I can get a
better look?
This recurring dream, simultaneously comforting and confusing, happens unexpectedly. It’s
comforting because it’s all I have of
my biological mother. It’s confusing because I don’t know if it’s
actually her.
For as long as I can remember,
the words “adopted,” “choice” and
“better life” have been part of my
personal vocabulary. But they
haven’t always meant the same thing
to me as they do now.
My adoptive parents traveled
from River Falls, Wis. to Russia to
bring home a two-year-old struggling to speak, stay healthy and
even smile.
That girl is a stark contrast to the
talkative, active and smiley 17-yearold I am today. I credit my adoptive
parents with literally saving my life.
They’ve given me the opportunity
to discover who I am in a safe, comforting and supportive environment.
They’ve been open and honest
with the limited details they have on
my adoption—my father’s last name
is Konstantinovna, my original
name is Svetlana and I was born on
Lana Rubinstein’s peek into her adoption past has been intimidating—but also
liberating. Top: Lana as a young girl. Below: The Rubinstein family on vacation.
always be the one who fully understands me and knows what I’ve
gone through.
In my sophomore Honors
English class, I found a few more
pieces. Under the watchful eye of
the toughest teacher I’ve ever had,
we covered literature, essays, poetry
and prose. Near the end of the term,
we had to write the dreaded—cue
dramatic music—research paper.
What topic could be important
and interesting enough to hold my
attention through this extensive
process? Why, adoption, of course!
The information I found during
my research was astonishing: Facts
and figures that made me angry,
adoption stories that made me
cry from happiness. But it was the
connection I felt to my personal
story that had the most significant
impact on me.
Searching through my adoption file in the basement, I found
the name of the Lutheran Social
Services adoption counselor, Beth
Opsal, who played a direct role
in my case. I was thrilled to find
the puzzle piece connected to the
woman who made sure my parents
would be able to take care of me and
love me.
Admittedly, I was terrified when
I first started looking her up. But I
was proud of myself for taking the
initiative to interact with someone
linked to my mysterious past.
Our interview was through
e-mail. I kept my questions purely
professional and related to my
research paper. I realized that, while
she may have worked with my parents, she couldn’t know everything.
And if she didn’t have the answers,
who would?
In the end, it was a great experience. Not only did I learn about
unfortunate flaws in the child services department, but I also asked
questions that gave me insight into
some of her past experiences. And
that was the most important part.
I’m not the only one missing
puzzle pieces. So is Emily. So are
countless children who have similar
stories and who endure lives polarized by happiness and confusion.
While I still don’t have a connection
to my biological family, I gained
a new one to adopted kids I may
never even meet.
Countless times people have
asked, “Do you think you will ever
go back?” “To Russia, in search of
answers?” Every time, I shake my
head. No.
Because it’s the truth. It’s a
strange kind of wanting. I want
information, but I don’t want to
know too much, to ruin the idea
that I have, that my parents gave me
up because they had to, not because
they wanted to.
I know my adopted family loves
me. I know that they will do anything in their power to make sure
I have the best life possible. I don’t
want to put my family through the
potential hurt of digging into a past
that they tried so hard to remove me
from. To me, it would be an impossible scavenger hunt. One where
even the clues are hidden extremely
well, let alone the answers.
I may never know all the details
of my lineage, my facial features
or if the woman in my dreams is
actually my biological mother. But
in considering myself a jumble of
unknowns, a puzzle that might
always be missing at least one piece,
there’s comfort in that confusion.
Big brands still hold sway, but thrift
shopping is making a fashionable dent
The average student
spends all week looking forward to
Friday. You know the old phrase,
“TGIF?” For local fashion blogger
Zhenya Hutson, it’s “TGIT.”
Hutson’s calendar doesn’t
remind her of impending lunch
dates or professional development
meetings with fellow Minnetonka
school teachers. Rather, it details
the themes and outfits she posts
on her blog for “Thrift Style
Thursdays.”
It’s an original idea the Russian
native started for her three-yearold blog BeingZhenya.com. Since
her first post, she has built a
fashion-conscious team of eight to
nine other bloggers, located in the
states and Canada, that collaborate
with her on the weekly project.
“I wanted to find bloggers who
were keen on the idea of (thrift
shopping) and who want to spread
the thrift love,” she said. “This is
not … a clique or a closed group.
It’s open, and if anybody else wants
to do ‘Thrift Style Thursday,’ you
are more than welcome.”
Hutson represents allegiance to
a growing trend in shopping culture—the shift of shopping solely at
big brand retailers to finding deals
at stores like Marshall’s, Plato’s
Closet and Goodwill, which sell
brand names at lower prices.
BEING BRAND CONSCIOUS
The main appeal of the thrift shops
among teens? Price and variety.
Kimberly
Martinez
Harding High
School
American Public Media’s
Marketplace reports that Stephanie
Wissick, senior research analyst
at Piper Jaffray, said Abercrombie
& Fitch, American Eagle and
Aeropostale represented a combined 35 percent of teen spending
on fashion in 2006. Now, it’s a mere
12 percent.
According to the investment
bank’s 26th semi-annual “Taking
Stock with Teens” market research
project, teens are still brand conscious, but not necessarily brand
loyal.
Katie Thomas, 19, of
Bloomington, loves designer Calvin
Klein—but that doesn’t mean she’s
willing to shell out $54.99 for a pair
of basic, stretchy black leggings.
“His stuff is expensive, but when
you go (to Marshall’s), it’s $12. It’s
like, ‘Whew, OK.’”
Looking stylish, but on a
budget, is important to young
people.
Grammy-winning rapper
Macklemore, whose 2012 single
“Thrift Shop” peaked at No. 1
on the Billboard charts, said the
premise of his song is “standing for
... let’s save some money, let’s keep
some money away, let’s spend as
little as possible and look as fresh
THRILL OF THE HUNT
Hutson, who has vowed to shop
solely at thrift stores in 2014, is
seasoned in the activity, as she’s
been shopping this way since ninth
grade. Her wardrobe is 60 to 70
percent thrifted. She admits getting
a thrill from the mysterious variety
occupying the Goodwill racks.
“It’s the opportunity of …
having clothes that (are) different,” she said. “Because the items
you can buy, they’re not going to
be the latest collection. They’re
not going to be what’s on sale at
Target, Kohl’s, (JC) Penney’s or
any mass retailer. I can go and …
dig through, and it’s like a treasure
think
spot
What brands hold the most power among your peers? Is
individual style important, or do name brands put pressure on
teens to buy more expensive clothing so they can fit in?
hunt. You don’t know what you’re
going to be able to find. And that’s
the best part for me.”
For Nathan Taylor, 19, of Maple
Grove—a self-proclaimed “broke
college student”—the potential to
find a diamond in the rough is also
thrilling.
“I found a white T-shirt
with (Spot, the dog from “Little
Rascals”) on it at a thrift store. It
was the coolest thing ever,” he said.
Hutson appreciates that the big
brands focus on quality, rather than
quantity. And they do host occasional sales, especially on Black
Friday, if you want to buy direct
from say, Abercrombie.
“The one thing is, they do make
quality clothing,” she said. “It’s not
the Forever 21, where you ... put
a shirt in the wash and it comes
out of the dryer and you can’t even
donate it—you just have to toss it.”
If you’re serious about quality,
notice the variety an original
brand offers. Take, for instance,
the denim section of Forever 21’s
website, which features 80 styles.
Abercrombie offers seven.
“Name brand-wise, read the
reviews and carefully plan your
closet to decide what pieces are
worth investing into,” Hutson said.
“If an item looks as good on a
hanger in a thrift store as it would
in a regular store, definitely buy
that brand.”
A full-time preschool teacher,
Hutson admits that her blog has
also become “a full-time, everyday routine.” She regularly scours
fashion websites, like Refinery29,
StyleCaster and WhoWhatWear,
for inspiration. However, she says
it’s important not to get too caught
up in outward appearances.
“At the end of the day, it’s not
about the clothes,” she said. “It’s
about who you are.”
Submitted
Style in the
bargain aisle
as possible at the same time.”
Enter a name brand store at
the mall with $20 and you probably won’t get very far. But Evan
Martinson, 20, of St. Paul, can leave
a Goodwill or Marshall’s with an
outfit fit for his professional job.
“You can get the whole combo
for $20, a pair of pants, shoes ...
and it looks like you’re wearing
like, $400 or $500 worth of clothes.”
Zhenya Hutson, a local fashion blogger, spreads her love of thrift shopping to readers of BeingZhenya.com on specially
designated “Thrift Style Thursdays.”
February / March 2014
29
Music with
a mission
Cedar Cultural Center celebrates 25 years
as a community conscious artists’ haven
Madie Ley
Elk River
High School
oriented so audience members are
close to the performers, no matter
where they sit.
“There isn’t a bad seat in the
house,” Dahlen said. “I know that just
sounds like a line you would throw
out ... but it’s really true.” INTERNATIONAL FLAVOR
The Cedar is a nonprofit organization located in the Cedar-Riverside
neighborhood of Minneapolis.
Known for hosting a wide variety of
local, national and—most remarkably—international talent during the
last 25 years, the Cedar’s mission
audience member’s approach to booking, having experience as a volunteer
before picking up a paid position.
Marketing director Michael
Rossetto believes a strong sense of
community is what makes the Cedar
so intimate. He has experienced it
firsthand, both as a staff member and
musician.
“The Cedar to (audience members) exists as this little world,”
Rossetto said. “They have this concept of the Cedar’s bubble.”
And there’s no shortage of proof.
As a nonprofit, the Cedar has a pool
of nearly 300 volunteers, some that
come as often as three times per
week. Dahlen recalls one volunteer
from Stillwater who commuted regularly to shows for years, using the
music to cope with chronic pain.
His “unspoken feedback” is
the best kind Dahlen can receive.
The interaction between venue
and patron is a major reason the
Cedar has stuck it out for more two
decades, she said.
LOOKING BACK
Celebrating 25 years as a music
venue has also allowed Dahlen, Dorn
and Rossetto to reflect on some of
their favorite memories.
Described by the Cedar’s website
as “cooly infectious Afro-pop,”
Pat O’Laughlin
Concerts are for listening
to great live music—or rather,
they should be.
If you’re a weathered concertgoer in the Twin Cities, you’re likely
familiar with the numerous music
venues it has to offer. On the other
hand, you’ve also dealt with too
many pushy diehards and disrespectful loudmouths to truly enjoy
a favorite song.
Lucky for Sage Dahlen, rowdy
crowds aren’t a problem at the Cedar
Cultural Center. Meant to serve as
a “listening room,” the Cedar is an
intimate and respectful setting where
performers bring a different kind
of show, said Dahlen, the venue’s
artistic director.
Housing 200 spectators for a
seated show and 600 for sold out
standing ones, the Cedar’s stage is
is to “promote intercultural appreciation and understanding through
music,” said director of development
Adrienne Dorn.
Fulfilling those goals for more
than two decades hasn’t been an easy
feat, especially in a music-rich area
with abundant live entertainment
offerings. But Dahlen excels at capturing diversity in the Twin Cities.
A University of Minnesota grad
who worked as an on-air DJ at Radio
K, Dahlen not only books talented
musicians, but also promotes a
unique global scene that no other
venue can match. By recognizing
these worldly musicians and the
communities they can bring together,
she allows fans to see the Twin Cities
with a more cultured lens.
Dahlen utilizes resources like
Minnesota Public Radio and globalFEST New York to find the
right artistic fits. She also brings an
Grammy-nominated artist Femi Kuti, a Nigerian musician and eldest son of Afrobeat pioneer Fela Kuti, performs during a recent visit to Cedar Cultural Center.
30 threesixtyjournalism.org
Malian performer Fatoumata
Diawara is a unanimous favorite of
the trio. In her show at the Cedar
last April, she pulled up four random
fans that reflected the global diversity of the audience. Upon seeing a
young West African girl, a middle
aged West African dance instructor,
a Somali woman and an older white
man, Dorn remembered thinking,
“Everything we’ve been working
toward is happening!”
One of Rossetto’s most memorable shows is from February.
Minnesota Public Radio’s 89.3 The
Current called it an “epic charity
concert,” unique not only to the
Cedar but also to the Twin Cities.
To raise funds and awareness for
Doctors Without Borders, the Cedar
hosted a 28-hour live drone—a music
style that emphasizes sustained and
repeated sounds—as part of the
“Drone Not Drones” movement.
The idea stemmed from Duluth
band Low’s 28-minute, one-song
Rock the Garden performance. Acts
included Paul Metzger, Marijuana
Deathsquads and Low.
Although it was a different type
of concert experience, Rossetto said
there was still a connection among
audience members. It wasn’t necessarily about the music, he said, but
the reason behind the music.
“The reason we’re working here
is that on any given night, there’s a
different community,” he said.
Memorable moments that stick
with Dahlen are similar to the
live drone—shows that separate
the Cedar from other Twin Cities
venues. The Fiery Furnaces, normally a four-person indie rock act,
opted for a calmer, two-person show
at the Cedar. Minnesota countryblues musician Charlie Parr, who
often plays to standing crowds in
clubs, prefers sit-down concerts at
the Cedar for his older fans. The
first show Dahlen worked as a paid
employee was a group of Cuban
throat singers.
“The Way I Work”
INTO THE FUTURE
So, what can music fans expect
from the Cedar in the coming
years? Fun and games, amid
growing pains.
As the Cedar’s community
continues to expand, it may be
happening too fast for Dorn to
keep up.
“I don’t know of any nonprofit
that’s grown this quickly,” she
said.
Whether creating new programs or adding more positions,
the Cedar staff has high hopes for
the future. Getting supporters to
fund those ideas is where challenges arise, Dorn said. Hosting
250 live shows a year is only a
fraction of the financial picture
for a music-based nonprofit.
Top of the list for new
programming is the 416 Club.
Funded by grants from The
Jerome Foundation, the 416
Club commissioned seven local
artists—from a pool of more
than 100—to compose diverse
interpretations of music. Dahlen
is particularly enthusiastic about
this year’s original performers.
“It’s been everything from a
classical interpretation of what it’s
like to be an animal in the zoo—
played on the harp—to a ping
pong table rigged with contact
mics,” she said. “We’re coming
up with some pretty incredible
people, and I hope that The Cedar
can continue to take a role in that
kind of artist involvement.”
Sweet science
Meet the man behind Patisserie 46’s
chocolate-inspired masterpieces
How’s this for a fun job title?
Head Chocolatier.
For Joshua Werner of Patisserie
46 in Minneapolis, it’s a delicious
reality.
Werner, 27, has spent nearly his
entire life in the culinary arts, specifically with pastries and chocolate.
His love affair with food started
while on family vacations in West
Virginia, where—like most kids with
a sweet tooth—he became enamored
with a local candy shop.
“When it started out, I would just
look at the window to see what they
were making. And eventually they
would let me come in and work,”
Werner said. “So, it got to the point
where I would run out of the car
to get in there, and I would spend
around two days of my vacation just
working.”
Werner’s early inspiration set
him on a path for culinary excellence
while at the National Restaurant
Association show in Chicago. As he
visited various booths, candy caught
his eye once again.
“I saw the French Pastry School,
and they had beautiful showpieces,
Maya
Shelton-Davies
River Falls
High School
chocolate and confections. I couldn’t
believe some of the stuff they did
with the chocolate. It was beautiful
and amazing, and for me it started
the lifetime of being around food,”
Werner said.
After graduating high school,
Werner enrolled in the French Pastry
School’s six-month program, where
he gained extensive experience with
pastries and chocolate. At the French
school, a typical day would consist
of having a demonstration in the
morning—then looking at recipes
and making desserts over the next 7
to 8 hours.
After working as a pastry chef/
chocolatier at a Las Vegas hotel for
five years, Werner received a call
from John Kraus, his former French
school instructor. Kraus was opening
his own European-style bakery/restaurant—Patisserie 46—and needed
a head chocolatier.
Career advice
This is the second installment of “The Way I Work,” a regular ThreeSixty
feature aimed at providing insight into unique and interesting career
fields. Intrigued by this career path? Chocolatier Joshua Werner offers
the following advice to teenagers:
“Research a lot. Look at magazines, look at websites for chefs, and
find a local chef who’s around. See if you can ask some questions,
shadow around for a few hours,” he said. “You have to be able to have
that understanding of what goes on with this job.”
Staff
To celebrate its 25th anniversary, the Cedar also hosted a collection of shows that highlighted
the venue’s mission of cultural
understanding. The kickoff show
featured Oliver Mtukudzi, a staff
favorite from Zimbabwe, and
other shows included Ethiopian
band Krar Collective, Malian
performer Rokia Traore and
Ukrainian group Dakhabrakha.
“Chef John called me one day
and asked if I wanted to move to
Minneapolis,” Werner recalled. “And
I said, ‘What’s in Minneapolis?’ And
he said, “I am.”
The rest is history. Werner
arrived in Minneapolis, willing to
take a chance on an empty space
that would eventually transform into
one of the Twin Cities’ most highly
regarded eateries.
Walking into Patisserie 46, the
first thing that grabs your attention
is the glass case filled with an artistic
assortment of desserts. They almost
seem too pretty to be purchasable.
Werner’s unique craft can’t be
fully appreciated by seeing the final
product, though. To have earned
the title of “art” from loyal Patisserie
patrons means employing a painstaking creation process. Even something
as seemingly simple as making a
chocolate plaque to put atop a dessert requires practiced precision. It
becomes evident inside Werner’s
workroom as he skillfully maneuvers
pools of chocolate on the cool granite, his movements so meticulous
and fluid that it looks effortless.
Then again, why are chocolate
plaques necessary in the first place?
“It changes (the dessert) from
something that looks good and tastes
great to something extraordinary,”
Werner said.
A big misconception is that
Werner gets to “play with chocolate” all day. In reality, the process
of making chocolate is incredibly
scientific, with little room for error.
“To make good chocolate, you
have to make sure it’s safe, stable and
has a good shelf life. A lot of science
is involved, and also math to calculate how much water is in a recipe,
Joshua Werner, head chocolatier at
Patisserie 46, poses in front of the
Minneapolis bakery’s dessert and
pastry-filled display case.
the sugars that you use, just to make
sure it’s right. It’s all about precision,”
Werner said.
If the chocolate isn’t a specific
temperature—whether dark, milk
or white—the entire batch has to
be re-done, Werner said. With all
the specifics and patience needed, a
career as a chocolatier definitely isn’t
a cakewalk.
“You have to have the passion for
it,” Werner said. “It has to be within
you, that this is what you want to go
into 110 percent.”
The long hours required of his
craft are also paying off in other
ways. Patisserie 46 was recently
named to Dessert Professional’s Top
Ten list of chocolatiers in North
America. It’s one of many “surreal”
accolades Werner has received for
his desserts.
Through it all, Werner has never
forgotten the place that piqued his
interest in the first place.
“I actually went back (to West
Virginia) about a year ago to visit one
of the candy makers that’s still there.
I saw her and brought a box of my
chocolates,” Werner said.
“She was so happy that I was
doing this.”
February / March 2014
31
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