12/14/2008
It’s Wednesday! The day has finally arrived! No more waiting to see if Magneto finally defeated Wolverine, if Spiderman’s new love interest will accept him for his spidey self, or if Buffy, the Vampire Slayer, is going to die…again. No, today is the day that the new comics arrive in stores across nations. And who is rushing out to buy them? More often than not, girls are. Girls anticipate that wonderful day of the week just like their comic-obsessed male counterparts.
“I think a lot of girls aren't into comics simply because comics aren't a part of the mainstream,” said Emily Zebrun, 19, “And if they are, most people immediately think of superhero comics, and the distorted images of femininity often presented therein.”
Until more recently, comic book readers have been mainstreamed as the typical “nerdy” male, obsessed with fantasy, superheroes, and superpowers, hoarding his overabundance of comic books in his mother’s basement.
“For a long time, up until X-Men was big in the early 90s, you kind of just thought of comic book fans as being that fat, balding guy who lived in his mother's basement or like, Brody in Mallrats,” Renee Cahill, 25, said.
Not the most glamorous stereotype by any means, but it is part of the reason girls were never put into the limelight of comics.
“Back in the 90s, especially, they went through a phase where everything was high octane, muscles and griddiness,” said Holly Segarra, 25, “Now that they are finally over that hump it's more of a soap opera to me.”
Woman had fewer superheroes with whom to idolize and most of them, for example Catwoman and Supergirl, were just after-products of their male predecessors, Batman and Superman.
“For the most part, the womenfolk in comics exist essentially as roles rather than people,” said Jessica Lee, 21. “Even then they're significant only in relation to the male leads.”
Most females who collect comics use these older images as a launching pad to different and unusual comic series. Female fan favorites include the X-men series, as there is an array of powerful female characters, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Deadpool, Tank Girl, The Sandman, and even “old school” comics like Iron Man, Spiderman, and The Flash.
Many unfamiliar in the land of comics’ are clueless to some of these titles. So, how can a girl get more acquainted with the world of comics without worrying about being stereotyped as a “comic book nerd?” Simple. For one, girls won’t be stereotyped since males carry that burden, and for another, stop by the local comic store and find out what other females are reading. The selection is endless.
Daydreams Comics is Iowa City’s source for comics and even the employees will agree that the comic book world is definitely a male-dominated industry.
Jake Nelson, 26, has worked at Daydreams for about a year. He said that the proliferation of manga, Japanese comic books, along with the Buffy the Vampire Slayer comics has definitely brought more “female species” into the store recently.
“A lot of stories are more enticing to women now,” Nelson said, “Buffy, Anita Blake, Darktower stuff. The female characters are stronger now than before—there’s not so much of a stigma for women to be in power now.”
Most women who read comics have been reading them for years upon years. Segarra started reading the Batman comics when she was in third grade, her love for comics never dwindling. Zebrun saw the enticing image of Catwoman on the cover of a comic at the supermarket as a little girl and “it was all downhill from there.” Twenty-year-old Melissa Evans didn’t start reading comics until junior high. Lee grew up reading Korean and Japanese manga, but started reading American comics, more specifically Sandman, once in high school. While Cahill feels like she’s been reading comics always and forever, unable to pinpoint a specific time her love for comics began.
“I feel like it's just always been a part of me,” agreed 25-year old Brittnay Bailey, a Marvel-a-holic.
Women have been in the backseat of the comic world for ages, but female superheroes have been around for years. Wonder Woman, probably the most well-known female superhero in all the comic land debuted in the 1940s. DC Comics followed suit in the 1950s with strong female characters, such as Lois Lane of Superman and Vicki Vale, or Batwoman, in the Batman comics. Marvel introduced the Invisible Girl, part of the Fantastic Four team, in the 1960s, and female X-men and other strong super-heroines were also created. Although these females, except Wonder Woman, were still just the side-kick or love interest of the main male superheroes, at least women were getting bigger and better parts.
“I'm sure there are a ton of psychological reasons why comic books are marketed almost solely to males, but that's what it comes down to; marketing and societal acceptance,” Bailey said. “Boys are supposed to read comics and be into superheros and super villains, and girls are supposed to play with dolls and pretend to be princesses. Those that deviate are the unsung heroes of our time.”
Fellow comic book connoisseurs are generally excited to find the same hobby in another person, male or female.
“Most guys think it's awesome. And if they treat me differently, it's almost always in a positive way,” Zebrun said enthusiastically, “One of my best guy friends, in fact, considers me his comics treasure house, because every time he comes over to my house I've got something new and excellent to lend him.”
It’s rare to find a girl who will strike up a conversation about comics with someone, and when she does, most male comic lovers will be glued to her hip.
“It's just always such a ‘Whaaaat?’ moment for some guys when they realize I know my stuff,” Bailey said. She recalled a time in school when a teacher mistakenly said that Professor X and Magneto, characters from the X-men universe, were brothers. But, Bailey corrected her that Professor X and the Juggernaut are actually brothers. “A boy in the front turns around with the biggest grin on his face, and was all ‘that girl knows her comics’ and air-high fived me.”
Non-comic book loving girls, on the other hand, tend to shy away from comic book conversation, either out of complete lack of understanding the world or find it to be solely a guy’s hobby.
“Women fought in the last generation for more equal rights between the sexes and for the most part we got them, but there is a large portion of young women today that don’t give a shit about education and equal pay and good jobs,”
Evans said, “And I have noticed that a very large portion of the people, men and women, that read comics are fairly well educated. I think that higher education makes comic books much more interesting because most comic books are able to say things about society that art and written words can't do separately.”
Nelson said, “A lot of newer titles bridge the gap between the mainstream medias.” He finds that the rise in superhero movies from Hollywood brought in more females interested in reading the original storylines for Batman and Spiderman. But, horror titles and the X-men are even more popular with females.
“Since comics are generally geared towards males--what with the smokin' female bodies and the dominating male forces-- I think it's harder for girls to come across them,” Bailey said. “But once they do, I really think girls are just as apt to get into the storylines as guys are. It's just that initial meeting that I think is really lacking. “
Monday, February 9, 2009
Seashia Vang;; The Color of Freedom
This story became a cover story for Off Deadline Magazine. Here's my original version. I provided a link for the magazine's version at the bottom.
10/27/2008
Her name means “likable” in Hmong. She plucked chickens as a girl, dyed her hair pink as a teenager, and now as a young woman, she is an activist for the Hmong people, an Asian ethnic group indigenous to Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam.
Twenty-year-old Seashia Vang is hard to miss. Though she’s small, her brightly colored, mismatched clothing, multi-colored sneakers, and wild, dark hair pulled messily into a ponytail catch the eye. She trots through Iowa City with an overstuffed, forest green backpack as the only Hmong student attending the University of Iowa. She works to bring about awareness and fights for the on-going genocide of the Hmong people in Laos; with her parents’ struggles to get to America as the backbone of that fight.
Seashia grew up on the east side of Des Moines with her parents, an older brother and two younger siblings. The Hmong people hold family in high regard, and for Seashia’s mother, Pa, this is especially true. As she grew up, her mother continuously told her, “Friends are only here for a little bit, but family is here forever.”
Pa was orphaned while growing up in northern Laos, which is why building a family of her own was important to her. Pa’s father died a month before she was born from a sickness, and her mother died a couple years later. She was forced to live with an abusive step-aunt, who made her eat rice off the floor.
Seashia’s father, Song, lost his father to the “Secret War” in Laos, a campaign started by the CIA during the Vietnam War to recruit Hmong men to fight for them, and his father was one of them. These Hmong men were used as a special guerilla unit to block one of Vietnam’s main military supply routes, and they were also put on the front line in battle. Not long after he joined the “Secret War,” however, Song’s father’s plane was shot down. The Hmong men suffered a casualty rate of over 40,000, while others were permanently disabled, injured, and some never found. The mass exodus of the Hmong people from Laos began and Song was taken to a refugee camp for two years by the CIA because of his father’s involvement in the war, so he did not need to worry about coming under attack during the journey, as most Hmong people did.
When Pa and her aunt made their trek out of Laos to the borders of Thailand to escape the war, they lived in a refugee camp for four years with her only close relative, her sister. Soon after getting to the refugee camp, Pa’s sister overdosed on medicine in order to kill herself. As she was dying, she urged Pa to live on and be strong.
Both of Seashia’s parents made it to America safely thanks to sponsorship by Catholic Christians after they were successfully converted. Her parents eventually met in Chicago; Pa was there with her Christian sponsors and Song came to work. After moving to America, her dad was “hot stuff,” according to Seashia, and looked like Don Johnson from Miami Vice. He was really into American culture, did all “the cool drugs” like LSD and hallucinogens, and listened to rock music. “He even changed his name to ‘Pacific’ to sound more American,” Seashia said, laughing. Her mom, on the other hand, typified the ultimate good girl. She was shy, always followed the advice of her elders, never smoked or drank (and still doesn’t today), and worked hard to please her abusive step-aunt. The two eventually met and began a relationship. One night, the couple stayed out all night, a taboo in Hmong culture that means the two people must get married. The step-aunt demanded Song pay her downy money per tradition. With little money in their pockets, the newlyweds moved to Des Moines and started their family.
Growing up Hmong in Iowa, Seashia knew from early on that she was different. In her predominantly white elementary school (the only other minority besides Seashia was one African American boy), the other children would ask her questions that she described as “racism out of curiosity.” The children would ask, “Why are your eyes so small?” and “Why do you look like that?” Because of this, Seashia barely spoke as a child. When called on in class, she refused to answer or cried until the teacher asked another student.
Although Hmong is still a minority in Iowa, the population is continually growing. Half of the Hmong population today resides in the Midwest. According to the 2005 American Community Survey, the Hmong population in the United States was at 183,265 and is continually growing.
Back at home, where Seashia was most comfortable as a child, her family survived on welfare and the money her father earned from his various jobs. At Christmas Seashia received toys from Toys for Tots and the neighbor children teased her for it, but she did not understand why. Although her family practiced parts of Christianity and went to a Christian church, where services were spoken in Hmong and run by the Hmong community, the Hmong traditions were still strong within her family.
Her family sacrificed chickens for good luck; Seashia held down the chicken’s head while her mom cut the neck. “It didn’t freak me out because I knew it was my duty to help my mom out,” Seashia said, though she jokingly worried PETA might come after her family. Her mother was also a firm believer in the myth and folklore of the Hmong people. Whenever Seashia was startled, her mom would pinch her playfully and say, “Debkiag!” She was “pinching the scared out of me,” explained Seashia. At night, Seashia was cautioned not to sleep with her toes sticking out because ghosts might tickle them, and mean ghosts would pinch them.
Although Seashia and her mother don’t see eye-to-eye on many things, their relationship is still strong. “When I had the chance to meet Seashia's mother, I was struck by how unfiltered their interactions were,” said Adrienne Hurley, who used to be a professor of Japanese studies at the University of Iowa, and Seashia’a favorite professor, “Seashia talked with her mom just like she'd talk to a friend. It really seemed like they were best friends.”
As she grew older, Seashia she joined HOPE, a drama group that spoke to kids about sexual assault, rape, and other issues. “I joined for selfish reasons,” said Seashia, “I had my goals set on being an actress or comedian on Saturday Night Live…It wasn't until after joining the group that my eyes were opened to the prevalence of abuse that occurs every day.” She then got the lead in a local theater production of Fiddler on the Roof, and she was soon determined to climb out of her shell and become America’s first Hmong actress. “I just realized that people can judge you, but you should focus on how you see yourself,” said Seashia.
In high school, Seashia became a cheerleader, known as “the Asian one,” and got her first taste of going to school with other minorities. “I was like, ‘Whoa, there are other Asians like me,’ I couldn’t believe it,” she said. With the help of new friends, she discovered her love of the punk music scene. She dyed her hair pink, obsessed over Japanese fashion, and spent her days playing Dance Dance Revolution at the mall, while maintaining a 4.0 GPA.
Despite her newfound freedom and friends, Seashia was still confined to the Hmong household rules. Hmong children are not allowed to spend the night anywhere away from home, but Seashia’s mother could not understand when she wanted to go to a punk concert or stay out late with friends. “Nothing was ever right in my mom’s eyes,” she said. Seashia also finds the Hmong culture to be rather sexist; for example, if her mother approved of something (which was rare in itself), she would have to ask her father for the final word.
During her senior year of high school, much to her surprise, Seashia was chosen as homecoming queen, pink hair and all. Teachers hugged and praised her for “not being the stereotypical winner.” She was even featured in a Hmong newspaper in Minnesota for her win.
Now that she’s in college, she’s majoring in journalism and “Menards art,” as she calls it. Her art, although she’s only done one piece, depicts the sufferings of Hmong women still living in Laos. She even spent the past summer in Cambodia, Laos, and Vietnam, seeing the suffering first hand. “She didn’t have to think twice about [going],” said Michael Vanhouweling, 21, a close friend to Seashia, “She knew what was right by sacrificing her time and money for others.”
Seashia was able to go to these countries thanks to The One World Foundation, whose mission is to “encourage young people from minority and indigenous communities to become actively engaged in the human rights and development arenas,” and thanks to Professor Adrienne Hurley, who told her about it. Seashia said, “I wrote a personal essay on why it was important for me to go to Cambodia, I wrote about the Hmong, international social justice and human rights.”
“By the way she talks about this struggle, you know it is something very close to her heart; it's everything to her,” said Marissa Gutierrez-Vicario, 24, who spent the summer in Cambodia with Seashia.
Even though she felt disconnected because she is American, she was and still is greatly affected by the generations upon generations of anguish. She cried when she saw the mountains in Laos from which her parents came and thought of the people being hunted, and those dying that very day from starvation and land mines. “My mom told me she didn't want me to know about the genocide, because she thought it would affect my learning while growing up,” said Seashia, “She was scared that if I knew about the killings of the Hmong, it would scare my soul.”
Seashia can’t wait to get back to Laos. “I don’t want to move out of the United States permanently but I will not sit by and watch the apathy of the U.S. while there are millions of people suffering all over the world.” Even though the Hmong people are safe in America, she says the price of safety is that they’re losing their culture. “All of humanity depends on nature's generous gifts; gifts never meant to be priced, exploited and sold,” said Seashia. “I feel that the opportunities which I’ve been granted should be used to liberate the struggles of the Hmong in Laos, Thailand and the USA.” She wants to start an organization in Laos to help those suffering through teaching art and Hmong history. In the meantime, she spends her time researching Southeast Asian cultures, contacting other Hmong people, and handing out fliers about the on-going Hmong genocide. She said, “The younger generations of Hmong people need to know why they’re here and the struggles of their people…I'd like to get them together and fight for the liberation of the Hmong people”
“Within 5 minutes of talking to her, you'll figure out what she's passionate about and how she strives to dedicate her life to this cause,” said Gutierrez-Vicario.
Seashia also helped start the Wild Rose Rebellion Book Club in Iowa City, affiliated with the Wild Rose Rebellion, a network group for anarchists and anti-authoritarians in Iowa. The book club will hold its first meeting in November. She wants her club members to read about modern and historical activists and hopefully make contacts with activists in other cities. Next spring, she is going to Thailand to speak with Hmong people in refugee camps. And someday, she wants to write a book about her parents’ arduous journey to America.
“I often think of my students as holding my hopes for the future,” said Hurley, “When I think of Seashia, those hopes are filled with bright colors and laughter, and with strength and courage.”
Hmong means “free” and Seashia wants to help secure that freedom for the Hmong people.
Off Deadline Version
10/27/2008
Her name means “likable” in Hmong. She plucked chickens as a girl, dyed her hair pink as a teenager, and now as a young woman, she is an activist for the Hmong people, an Asian ethnic group indigenous to Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam.
Twenty-year-old Seashia Vang is hard to miss. Though she’s small, her brightly colored, mismatched clothing, multi-colored sneakers, and wild, dark hair pulled messily into a ponytail catch the eye. She trots through Iowa City with an overstuffed, forest green backpack as the only Hmong student attending the University of Iowa. She works to bring about awareness and fights for the on-going genocide of the Hmong people in Laos; with her parents’ struggles to get to America as the backbone of that fight.
Seashia grew up on the east side of Des Moines with her parents, an older brother and two younger siblings. The Hmong people hold family in high regard, and for Seashia’s mother, Pa, this is especially true. As she grew up, her mother continuously told her, “Friends are only here for a little bit, but family is here forever.”
Pa was orphaned while growing up in northern Laos, which is why building a family of her own was important to her. Pa’s father died a month before she was born from a sickness, and her mother died a couple years later. She was forced to live with an abusive step-aunt, who made her eat rice off the floor.
Seashia’s father, Song, lost his father to the “Secret War” in Laos, a campaign started by the CIA during the Vietnam War to recruit Hmong men to fight for them, and his father was one of them. These Hmong men were used as a special guerilla unit to block one of Vietnam’s main military supply routes, and they were also put on the front line in battle. Not long after he joined the “Secret War,” however, Song’s father’s plane was shot down. The Hmong men suffered a casualty rate of over 40,000, while others were permanently disabled, injured, and some never found. The mass exodus of the Hmong people from Laos began and Song was taken to a refugee camp for two years by the CIA because of his father’s involvement in the war, so he did not need to worry about coming under attack during the journey, as most Hmong people did.
When Pa and her aunt made their trek out of Laos to the borders of Thailand to escape the war, they lived in a refugee camp for four years with her only close relative, her sister. Soon after getting to the refugee camp, Pa’s sister overdosed on medicine in order to kill herself. As she was dying, she urged Pa to live on and be strong.
Both of Seashia’s parents made it to America safely thanks to sponsorship by Catholic Christians after they were successfully converted. Her parents eventually met in Chicago; Pa was there with her Christian sponsors and Song came to work. After moving to America, her dad was “hot stuff,” according to Seashia, and looked like Don Johnson from Miami Vice. He was really into American culture, did all “the cool drugs” like LSD and hallucinogens, and listened to rock music. “He even changed his name to ‘Pacific’ to sound more American,” Seashia said, laughing. Her mom, on the other hand, typified the ultimate good girl. She was shy, always followed the advice of her elders, never smoked or drank (and still doesn’t today), and worked hard to please her abusive step-aunt. The two eventually met and began a relationship. One night, the couple stayed out all night, a taboo in Hmong culture that means the two people must get married. The step-aunt demanded Song pay her downy money per tradition. With little money in their pockets, the newlyweds moved to Des Moines and started their family.
Growing up Hmong in Iowa, Seashia knew from early on that she was different. In her predominantly white elementary school (the only other minority besides Seashia was one African American boy), the other children would ask her questions that she described as “racism out of curiosity.” The children would ask, “Why are your eyes so small?” and “Why do you look like that?” Because of this, Seashia barely spoke as a child. When called on in class, she refused to answer or cried until the teacher asked another student.
Although Hmong is still a minority in Iowa, the population is continually growing. Half of the Hmong population today resides in the Midwest. According to the 2005 American Community Survey, the Hmong population in the United States was at 183,265 and is continually growing.
Back at home, where Seashia was most comfortable as a child, her family survived on welfare and the money her father earned from his various jobs. At Christmas Seashia received toys from Toys for Tots and the neighbor children teased her for it, but she did not understand why. Although her family practiced parts of Christianity and went to a Christian church, where services were spoken in Hmong and run by the Hmong community, the Hmong traditions were still strong within her family.
Her family sacrificed chickens for good luck; Seashia held down the chicken’s head while her mom cut the neck. “It didn’t freak me out because I knew it was my duty to help my mom out,” Seashia said, though she jokingly worried PETA might come after her family. Her mother was also a firm believer in the myth and folklore of the Hmong people. Whenever Seashia was startled, her mom would pinch her playfully and say, “Debkiag!” She was “pinching the scared out of me,” explained Seashia. At night, Seashia was cautioned not to sleep with her toes sticking out because ghosts might tickle them, and mean ghosts would pinch them.
Although Seashia and her mother don’t see eye-to-eye on many things, their relationship is still strong. “When I had the chance to meet Seashia's mother, I was struck by how unfiltered their interactions were,” said Adrienne Hurley, who used to be a professor of Japanese studies at the University of Iowa, and Seashia’a favorite professor, “Seashia talked with her mom just like she'd talk to a friend. It really seemed like they were best friends.”
As she grew older, Seashia she joined HOPE, a drama group that spoke to kids about sexual assault, rape, and other issues. “I joined for selfish reasons,” said Seashia, “I had my goals set on being an actress or comedian on Saturday Night Live…It wasn't until after joining the group that my eyes were opened to the prevalence of abuse that occurs every day.” She then got the lead in a local theater production of Fiddler on the Roof, and she was soon determined to climb out of her shell and become America’s first Hmong actress. “I just realized that people can judge you, but you should focus on how you see yourself,” said Seashia.
In high school, Seashia became a cheerleader, known as “the Asian one,” and got her first taste of going to school with other minorities. “I was like, ‘Whoa, there are other Asians like me,’ I couldn’t believe it,” she said. With the help of new friends, she discovered her love of the punk music scene. She dyed her hair pink, obsessed over Japanese fashion, and spent her days playing Dance Dance Revolution at the mall, while maintaining a 4.0 GPA.
Despite her newfound freedom and friends, Seashia was still confined to the Hmong household rules. Hmong children are not allowed to spend the night anywhere away from home, but Seashia’s mother could not understand when she wanted to go to a punk concert or stay out late with friends. “Nothing was ever right in my mom’s eyes,” she said. Seashia also finds the Hmong culture to be rather sexist; for example, if her mother approved of something (which was rare in itself), she would have to ask her father for the final word.
During her senior year of high school, much to her surprise, Seashia was chosen as homecoming queen, pink hair and all. Teachers hugged and praised her for “not being the stereotypical winner.” She was even featured in a Hmong newspaper in Minnesota for her win.
Now that she’s in college, she’s majoring in journalism and “Menards art,” as she calls it. Her art, although she’s only done one piece, depicts the sufferings of Hmong women still living in Laos. She even spent the past summer in Cambodia, Laos, and Vietnam, seeing the suffering first hand. “She didn’t have to think twice about [going],” said Michael Vanhouweling, 21, a close friend to Seashia, “She knew what was right by sacrificing her time and money for others.”
Seashia was able to go to these countries thanks to The One World Foundation, whose mission is to “encourage young people from minority and indigenous communities to become actively engaged in the human rights and development arenas,” and thanks to Professor Adrienne Hurley, who told her about it. Seashia said, “I wrote a personal essay on why it was important for me to go to Cambodia, I wrote about the Hmong, international social justice and human rights.”
“By the way she talks about this struggle, you know it is something very close to her heart; it's everything to her,” said Marissa Gutierrez-Vicario, 24, who spent the summer in Cambodia with Seashia.
Even though she felt disconnected because she is American, she was and still is greatly affected by the generations upon generations of anguish. She cried when she saw the mountains in Laos from which her parents came and thought of the people being hunted, and those dying that very day from starvation and land mines. “My mom told me she didn't want me to know about the genocide, because she thought it would affect my learning while growing up,” said Seashia, “She was scared that if I knew about the killings of the Hmong, it would scare my soul.”
Seashia can’t wait to get back to Laos. “I don’t want to move out of the United States permanently but I will not sit by and watch the apathy of the U.S. while there are millions of people suffering all over the world.” Even though the Hmong people are safe in America, she says the price of safety is that they’re losing their culture. “All of humanity depends on nature's generous gifts; gifts never meant to be priced, exploited and sold,” said Seashia. “I feel that the opportunities which I’ve been granted should be used to liberate the struggles of the Hmong in Laos, Thailand and the USA.” She wants to start an organization in Laos to help those suffering through teaching art and Hmong history. In the meantime, she spends her time researching Southeast Asian cultures, contacting other Hmong people, and handing out fliers about the on-going Hmong genocide. She said, “The younger generations of Hmong people need to know why they’re here and the struggles of their people…I'd like to get them together and fight for the liberation of the Hmong people”
“Within 5 minutes of talking to her, you'll figure out what she's passionate about and how she strives to dedicate her life to this cause,” said Gutierrez-Vicario.
Seashia also helped start the Wild Rose Rebellion Book Club in Iowa City, affiliated with the Wild Rose Rebellion, a network group for anarchists and anti-authoritarians in Iowa. The book club will hold its first meeting in November. She wants her club members to read about modern and historical activists and hopefully make contacts with activists in other cities. Next spring, she is going to Thailand to speak with Hmong people in refugee camps. And someday, she wants to write a book about her parents’ arduous journey to America.
“I often think of my students as holding my hopes for the future,” said Hurley, “When I think of Seashia, those hopes are filled with bright colors and laughter, and with strength and courage.”
Hmong means “free” and Seashia wants to help secure that freedom for the Hmong people.
Off Deadline Version
Iraq Veterans Against the War
12/15/2008
“Winning the hearts and minds of the Iraqi people, one detainee at a time,” read the sign outside the processing center, where Iraqi detainees were sent for holding before transferring to Abu Ghraib.
“I regret treating the Iraqis the way we did,” Andy Duffy said. “Our training was geared to treat them as sub-human. But, when people are put in a horrible situation, they become horrible people.”
Duffy, 22, is a member of Iraq Veterans Against the War (IVAW), an organization that wants to “give a voice to the large number of active duty service people and veterans who are against this war, but are under various pressures to remain silent.” IVAW works for immediate withdrawal of troops from Iraq, reparations for the human and structural suffering in Iraq, and adequate healthcare for those returning from their service.
Duffy enlisted in the Iowa National Guard in 2003 when he was 17-years-old, as a medic. He was “swept away by the propaganda” when first joining and didn’t make it to Iraq until he was 19. His feelings about the war quickly changed.
He lived and worked as a medic in Abu Ghraib for a year, where he treated everything “from the sniffles to people with their legs blown off.” According to Duffy, severe amputation and gunshot wounds were the norm. He and his fellow soldiers lived in cells within the prison, while the prisoners lived outside in tents.
“Abu Ghraib looked like a concentration camp,” Duffy said. “Everything was just so messed up.”
Mass arrests were performed on Iraqis and those captured would come in by the truckload. During these mass arrests, people in terrorist organizations would purposely get arrested to recruit innocent civilians, who were unjustly arrested “and pissed off now at the U.S.,” according to Duffy. When prisoners were first coming in, they would be put in an Iraqi-run jail and “got the shit beat out of them.” After transferring to Abu Ghraib, they would then have a forced confession prepared to keep them in jail.
“There was lots of unnecessary force with the detainees,” Duffy said. “We put Iraqis and Americans in undo harm.”
Against the backdrop of this unnecessary force and harm, American soldiers were instructed to neglect medical treatment, sometimes authorized to use pepper spray on sick detainees, and used a 14-gauge needle, which is about the size of a pencil lead, when administering an IV (most American hospitals use an 18 to 20 gauge) to ensure detainees were not faking dehydration. Duffy also recalled that the medical practices used on detainees would conflict with what would normally be practiced in the United States. While on convoys in Baghdad, they “fucked with the Iraqis a lot” by driving on the wrong side of the road, firing random warning shots, and blockaded roads simply because they could.
The medics were also not fully armed and did not have the proper armor to wear when going outside the facility for convoys. Their unit had the proper supplies, but wouldn’t give any to the medics, Duffy said.
Duffy recalled a particularly horrifying moment during his stay at Abu Ghraib. A newly transferred detainee was dying as a result of lack of insulin after being held at an Iraqi prison for four to five days without his insulin. The officer in charge of the hospital at Abu Ghraib, Captain Hogan, denied Duffy’s request to transfer the detainee to a better hospital, and instead suggested the detainee drink lots of water. According to Duffy, Captain Hogan also told him that he was a Haji (a racist term for Iraqi people, similar to the “n” word in America) and “he probably wouldn’t die, but it wouldn’t matter if he died, anyway.” A second attempt to get the detainee, who was growing increasingly sicker, transferred, was denied. The other people working at the hospital mistook his disorderly behavior, which was a result of diabetic shock, as insubordination and pepper sprayed him, locked him in a cell, and finally decided to transfer him to a hospital. But, the man died on the way to the hospital.
“A lot of people called them ‘Hajis’ and didn’t like them because they were detainees, but to me, it was just a man that could’ve been somebody’s father, grandfather, or uncle,” he said.
During Duffy’s interrogation on the matter, Captain Hogan claimed she never received a call or transfer request for the detainee. Duffy and his partner were cleared of any misconduct, but Captain Hogan was still allowed to be the officer in charge.
Duffy said a fellow soldier used to say, “You can’t spell abuse without ‘abu.’”
Because of this and several other discrepancies with the way things were running in Iraq, Duffy was losing trust and hope in the American government’s presence in Iraq.
“While the detainees lacked health care and had poor living conditions, the contractor lived in the lap of luxury,” Duffy said, “Obviously, because Dick Cheney and Haliburton were the main suppliers of logistical things.”
Duffy believes that the Unites States did “things that were wrong—that were messed up—at every level.” He is sure that the U.S. has wasted millions of dollars, that we’re not rebuilding and are just seen as a police force, and that we have brought nothing but great violence to the country.
Duffy’s impressions are backed by the staggering numbers. According to the Brookings Institute’s Iraq Index, the United States has spent about $600 billion of taxpayer’s funds since the start of the war, while President Bush proposed an extra $200 billion for 2008, bringing the total to about $800 billion on the Iraq war alone. Where Haliburton is concerned, they have spent $1.4 billion worth in overages that were classified as “unreasonable” by the Pentagon.
But, the news isn’t all bad. Since the United States’ occupation of Iraq, over 1,200 new schools, both primary and intermediate, have been built since 2003. As of 2008, health care for the Iraqis has become a constitutional right and outpatient visits have risen to 70 percent, as opposed to the low 30 percent before the war. The United States has also helped increase the policing force of Iraq, raising the numbers to 75,000 Iraqis protecting their fellow citizens.
On top of the numbers, both good and bad, the U.S. and Iraq casualty rates climb daily. Brookings reports about 4,099 soldiers have lost their lives, while over 30,000 have been seriously physically injured.
“The ordinary people of the world should be against the war and occupation of Iraq because it is an exercise in imperialism that has cost untold thousands of innocent lives and livelihoods,” said Tim Gauger, a library assistant at the UI Library and active member of the UI Anti-war Committee and the Wild Rose Rebellion. “Because of global U.S. military presence--in the form of over 700 bases worldwide--the invasion and occupation of Iraq show that it can happen to any country anywhere on earth. No one is safe from losing their right to live a peaceful life when any nation feels it has the right to dominate another one.”
Duffy was one of only 20 people left at Abu Ghraib before it was handed over to the Iraqi army. He returned home with stories, nightmares, and a quest for change.
Upon his return, he joined the IVAW, a group founded in July 2004 at the annual convention of Veterans for Peace in Boston, Mass. Duffy described the organization as doing “a lot of protesting, helping vets with post-traumatic stress disorder and any financial trouble.” The organization participates in many public demonstrations against the war as “a slap in the face” to America. Some members, if they have been discharged, wear their uniforms during protests as a reminder of their service.
IVAW has 53 chapters across the United States and in Canada; four of these chapters are located on active duty Army bases. Members of IVAW include men and women who are veterans or actively served since September 11, 2001 from all branches of the military.
Duffy participated in Winter Soldier, a four-day event that brought veterans of both the war in Iraq and Afghanistan together to give their testimonials and eyewitness accounts of what they experienced. Duffy spoke about racism and the dehumanization of the Iraqi people by American soldiers.
“He is still a young man, he has relatively little support, and he suffers sleep disturbances and other symptoms of PTSD,” Adrienne Hurley, a former professor of Japanese studies at the UI and anti-war activist, said, “So it blows my mind that he is able to do as much as he does.”
Post-traumatic stress disorder is one of the biggest challenges returning veterans must face. Thirty percent of U.S. troops suffer from serious mental health problems within three to four months of returning from Iraq.
“[Duffy] has been able to maintain his ethical perspective in spite of experiencing the dehumanizing indoctrination of the military and the trauma of combat in Iraq,” Gauger said. “He has shown courage in his commitment to speaking for peace even while still on active duty, a risk that very few individuals take.”
Besides Winter Soldier, the IVAW has continuous projects geared towards ending the war sooner and helping returning vets and potential soldiers. One on-going project is called “The Truth in Recruiting,” a campaign to stop military recruiters from lying to persuade new military candidates to fight in the war in Iraq. According to IVAW, recruiters are promising kids and their parents that they won’t be sent to Iraq or Afghanistan if they enlist, but these people have no real say in their ultimate destination.
Therefore, IVAW wants to bring this message to light, along with countless other war statistics unknown to the public. Included in a flier that IVAW distributes across cities is that veterans between the ages of 20 and 24 are twice as likely to be jobless than their non-enlisted peers, veterans are three to five times more likely to be homeless than non-enlisted peers, and U.S. war veterans commit suicide at twice the rate as ordinary citizens.
“If the anti-war movement wants to grow steadily, it needs to work strenuously to reach out to and support active-duty military members, veterans, and their families,” Gauger said. “They have a struggle on their hands when they leave the military in a variety of ways that the anti-war movement may have acknowledged exists but has provided no substantive assistance to alleviate.”
Duffy, along with his fellow veterans, will continue to fight against what they believe is an unjust, illegal war. His experiences taught him a lot and although he struggles to continue life as an average college student, hoping to enroll at the UI, he can’t let anyone forget what happened at Abu Ghraib. Although he can’t right the wrongs done in the past, Duffy wants to end the war with the help of IVAW and support his fellow veterans.
“You have to realize, as a medic and as a professional, you need to treat people the same,” he said. “They are human beings. You can’t treat them as subhuman people.”
“Winning the hearts and minds of the Iraqi people, one detainee at a time,” read the sign outside the processing center, where Iraqi detainees were sent for holding before transferring to Abu Ghraib.
“I regret treating the Iraqis the way we did,” Andy Duffy said. “Our training was geared to treat them as sub-human. But, when people are put in a horrible situation, they become horrible people.”
Duffy, 22, is a member of Iraq Veterans Against the War (IVAW), an organization that wants to “give a voice to the large number of active duty service people and veterans who are against this war, but are under various pressures to remain silent.” IVAW works for immediate withdrawal of troops from Iraq, reparations for the human and structural suffering in Iraq, and adequate healthcare for those returning from their service.
Duffy enlisted in the Iowa National Guard in 2003 when he was 17-years-old, as a medic. He was “swept away by the propaganda” when first joining and didn’t make it to Iraq until he was 19. His feelings about the war quickly changed.
He lived and worked as a medic in Abu Ghraib for a year, where he treated everything “from the sniffles to people with their legs blown off.” According to Duffy, severe amputation and gunshot wounds were the norm. He and his fellow soldiers lived in cells within the prison, while the prisoners lived outside in tents.
“Abu Ghraib looked like a concentration camp,” Duffy said. “Everything was just so messed up.”
Mass arrests were performed on Iraqis and those captured would come in by the truckload. During these mass arrests, people in terrorist organizations would purposely get arrested to recruit innocent civilians, who were unjustly arrested “and pissed off now at the U.S.,” according to Duffy. When prisoners were first coming in, they would be put in an Iraqi-run jail and “got the shit beat out of them.” After transferring to Abu Ghraib, they would then have a forced confession prepared to keep them in jail.
“There was lots of unnecessary force with the detainees,” Duffy said. “We put Iraqis and Americans in undo harm.”
Against the backdrop of this unnecessary force and harm, American soldiers were instructed to neglect medical treatment, sometimes authorized to use pepper spray on sick detainees, and used a 14-gauge needle, which is about the size of a pencil lead, when administering an IV (most American hospitals use an 18 to 20 gauge) to ensure detainees were not faking dehydration. Duffy also recalled that the medical practices used on detainees would conflict with what would normally be practiced in the United States. While on convoys in Baghdad, they “fucked with the Iraqis a lot” by driving on the wrong side of the road, firing random warning shots, and blockaded roads simply because they could.
The medics were also not fully armed and did not have the proper armor to wear when going outside the facility for convoys. Their unit had the proper supplies, but wouldn’t give any to the medics, Duffy said.
Duffy recalled a particularly horrifying moment during his stay at Abu Ghraib. A newly transferred detainee was dying as a result of lack of insulin after being held at an Iraqi prison for four to five days without his insulin. The officer in charge of the hospital at Abu Ghraib, Captain Hogan, denied Duffy’s request to transfer the detainee to a better hospital, and instead suggested the detainee drink lots of water. According to Duffy, Captain Hogan also told him that he was a Haji (a racist term for Iraqi people, similar to the “n” word in America) and “he probably wouldn’t die, but it wouldn’t matter if he died, anyway.” A second attempt to get the detainee, who was growing increasingly sicker, transferred, was denied. The other people working at the hospital mistook his disorderly behavior, which was a result of diabetic shock, as insubordination and pepper sprayed him, locked him in a cell, and finally decided to transfer him to a hospital. But, the man died on the way to the hospital.
“A lot of people called them ‘Hajis’ and didn’t like them because they were detainees, but to me, it was just a man that could’ve been somebody’s father, grandfather, or uncle,” he said.
During Duffy’s interrogation on the matter, Captain Hogan claimed she never received a call or transfer request for the detainee. Duffy and his partner were cleared of any misconduct, but Captain Hogan was still allowed to be the officer in charge.
Duffy said a fellow soldier used to say, “You can’t spell abuse without ‘abu.’”
Because of this and several other discrepancies with the way things were running in Iraq, Duffy was losing trust and hope in the American government’s presence in Iraq.
“While the detainees lacked health care and had poor living conditions, the contractor lived in the lap of luxury,” Duffy said, “Obviously, because Dick Cheney and Haliburton were the main suppliers of logistical things.”
Duffy believes that the Unites States did “things that were wrong—that were messed up—at every level.” He is sure that the U.S. has wasted millions of dollars, that we’re not rebuilding and are just seen as a police force, and that we have brought nothing but great violence to the country.
Duffy’s impressions are backed by the staggering numbers. According to the Brookings Institute’s Iraq Index, the United States has spent about $600 billion of taxpayer’s funds since the start of the war, while President Bush proposed an extra $200 billion for 2008, bringing the total to about $800 billion on the Iraq war alone. Where Haliburton is concerned, they have spent $1.4 billion worth in overages that were classified as “unreasonable” by the Pentagon.
But, the news isn’t all bad. Since the United States’ occupation of Iraq, over 1,200 new schools, both primary and intermediate, have been built since 2003. As of 2008, health care for the Iraqis has become a constitutional right and outpatient visits have risen to 70 percent, as opposed to the low 30 percent before the war. The United States has also helped increase the policing force of Iraq, raising the numbers to 75,000 Iraqis protecting their fellow citizens.
On top of the numbers, both good and bad, the U.S. and Iraq casualty rates climb daily. Brookings reports about 4,099 soldiers have lost their lives, while over 30,000 have been seriously physically injured.
“The ordinary people of the world should be against the war and occupation of Iraq because it is an exercise in imperialism that has cost untold thousands of innocent lives and livelihoods,” said Tim Gauger, a library assistant at the UI Library and active member of the UI Anti-war Committee and the Wild Rose Rebellion. “Because of global U.S. military presence--in the form of over 700 bases worldwide--the invasion and occupation of Iraq show that it can happen to any country anywhere on earth. No one is safe from losing their right to live a peaceful life when any nation feels it has the right to dominate another one.”
Duffy was one of only 20 people left at Abu Ghraib before it was handed over to the Iraqi army. He returned home with stories, nightmares, and a quest for change.
Upon his return, he joined the IVAW, a group founded in July 2004 at the annual convention of Veterans for Peace in Boston, Mass. Duffy described the organization as doing “a lot of protesting, helping vets with post-traumatic stress disorder and any financial trouble.” The organization participates in many public demonstrations against the war as “a slap in the face” to America. Some members, if they have been discharged, wear their uniforms during protests as a reminder of their service.
IVAW has 53 chapters across the United States and in Canada; four of these chapters are located on active duty Army bases. Members of IVAW include men and women who are veterans or actively served since September 11, 2001 from all branches of the military.
Duffy participated in Winter Soldier, a four-day event that brought veterans of both the war in Iraq and Afghanistan together to give their testimonials and eyewitness accounts of what they experienced. Duffy spoke about racism and the dehumanization of the Iraqi people by American soldiers.
“He is still a young man, he has relatively little support, and he suffers sleep disturbances and other symptoms of PTSD,” Adrienne Hurley, a former professor of Japanese studies at the UI and anti-war activist, said, “So it blows my mind that he is able to do as much as he does.”
Post-traumatic stress disorder is one of the biggest challenges returning veterans must face. Thirty percent of U.S. troops suffer from serious mental health problems within three to four months of returning from Iraq.
“[Duffy] has been able to maintain his ethical perspective in spite of experiencing the dehumanizing indoctrination of the military and the trauma of combat in Iraq,” Gauger said. “He has shown courage in his commitment to speaking for peace even while still on active duty, a risk that very few individuals take.”
Besides Winter Soldier, the IVAW has continuous projects geared towards ending the war sooner and helping returning vets and potential soldiers. One on-going project is called “The Truth in Recruiting,” a campaign to stop military recruiters from lying to persuade new military candidates to fight in the war in Iraq. According to IVAW, recruiters are promising kids and their parents that they won’t be sent to Iraq or Afghanistan if they enlist, but these people have no real say in their ultimate destination.
Therefore, IVAW wants to bring this message to light, along with countless other war statistics unknown to the public. Included in a flier that IVAW distributes across cities is that veterans between the ages of 20 and 24 are twice as likely to be jobless than their non-enlisted peers, veterans are three to five times more likely to be homeless than non-enlisted peers, and U.S. war veterans commit suicide at twice the rate as ordinary citizens.
“If the anti-war movement wants to grow steadily, it needs to work strenuously to reach out to and support active-duty military members, veterans, and their families,” Gauger said. “They have a struggle on their hands when they leave the military in a variety of ways that the anti-war movement may have acknowledged exists but has provided no substantive assistance to alleviate.”
Duffy, along with his fellow veterans, will continue to fight against what they believe is an unjust, illegal war. His experiences taught him a lot and although he struggles to continue life as an average college student, hoping to enroll at the UI, he can’t let anyone forget what happened at Abu Ghraib. Although he can’t right the wrongs done in the past, Duffy wants to end the war with the help of IVAW and support his fellow veterans.
“You have to realize, as a medic and as a professional, you need to treat people the same,” he said. “They are human beings. You can’t treat them as subhuman people.”
Monday, November 17, 2008
Pro-Anorexia Communities
10/27/2008
What is your thinspiration? Is it a girl lifting up her shirt so you can count every one of her ribs? Is it girl with such slender legs they look like stilts loosely attached to her torso? Is it Nicole Ritchie? Mary-Kate or Ashley Olsen? Or is it a group of people in a community online to help you reach your goal weight and offer helpful suggestions on how to fast, binge, and purge?
Online communities have been bringing people together from varying backgrounds and interests. A surprising and frighteningly common interest today is eating disorders. Although there are countless support groups for people suffering from eating disorders and anti-eating disorder groups, Livejournal, Facebook, and Myspace are home to a number of pro-anorexia communities.
“I had under 1000 cals today but I feel so fat!” posted anii_ruth.
“I already binged 530 calories. That's it. That's 30 over my calorie limit,” posted fatcow66.
“My boyfriend came around and we made white hot chocolate, but I had to purge that up too...I’m so ashamed that I did it when he was there, but I had to get it out,” posted miss_nishnash.
These are just a few of the millions of posts on proanorexia, a community on Livejournal.com that prides itself on being the “World’s Largest Pro-Anorexia Site” with 18,696 members and over two million posts.
Anorexia nervosa, as well as other eating disorders, including bulimia and purging, have been prevalent in the adolescent female (and male) community for ages. A large part of this is due to the mainstream media promoting this ideal female body image; that thin and super skinny is sexy. “The mainstream media is definitely promoting this thin ideal and poor body image for females. And it’s at the root of the problem,” said Lee Farquhar, a graduate teaching assistant in the journalism department at the University of Iowa.
An excerpt from Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia by Marya Hornbacher (and a favorite book of many proanorexia members) states: “The anorectic operates under the astounding illusion that she can escape the flesh, and by associating, the realm of emotions.” This seems true as people in these communities are escaping the reality of their situation and the negative perception they receive from those in the real world, from parents, siblings, friends, or significant others, and instead, are seeking online comfort to support their eating disorder.
“In their offline, real world communities, their actions are against the social norms. They get punished for those behaviors. These people are looking for a place where they can do these behaviors [online]. They’re looking for support to build up their confidence,” said Farquhar, “And there’re a lot of strategic interactions, like, ‘how can I eat less?’ A lot of people give advice on how to skip meals without parents and significant others noticing.”
“Anyone want to liquid fast with me until Saturday night? I really need a texting buddy to keep me motivated,” posted pshhxitsmee.
In the profile, or information section, of the proanorexia community, the moderator clearly states: “If [anorectics and bulimics] are going to do it anyway, they can take advantage of the knowledge and experience of others to avoid doing things in dangerous ways.” This means the thousands of members of this community, and others like it, seek these communities out for advice on how to fast and purge better or so that no one close to them notices.
Among the advice to help people fast better or the support for those on liquid diets or the best brand of laxative to use, there are some posters who warn people of the negative effects of various eating disorders. For example, not_today_1223 posted: “I got my teeth done today, four pulled and replaced because they were totally rotten out from purging… For people thinking they want to start purging, please consider learning from my mistakes. It’s not worth it, it hurts!”
Although eating disorders have been around for as long as celebrities have been flaunting their toned, impossibly slender figures, social networking sites have not. Before females (although there are most likely male users, as well) had this online support system, they had to deal with their problems the old fashioned way: hiding them or going to a clinic or hospital for help.
According to the South Carolina Department of Mental Health, one in every 200 women suffers from anorexia; while two to three in every 100 women suffer from bulimia. Only one in every 10 of these women suffering ever receive treatment for their disorder. Adolescent females are the biggest sufferers when it comes to eating disorders with 95 percent of them between ages 12 to 25. Eating disorders also have the highest rate of mortality out of any mental illness with suicide being a common problem.
“So today I had 16 calories worth of strawberries. I went to the gym and nearly fainted, but still managed to burn approximately 245 calories. No more food for me today!” posted misskiah.
The University of Iowa’s Hospitals and Clinics have an entire program dedicated to those suffering from eating disorders. According to the clinic’s website, their goal for their patients is “diagnosis and comprehensive treatment of all eating disorders. We also hope to prevent these disorders, and we want to decrease the weight and shape-related worries.” Although their goal is honorable, it’s clear that not every person suffering will receive treatment and instead of confessing to their problem, social networking sites gives them another opportunity to escape from the reality of their problem, while also seeking advice that promotes and helps their disorder along.
“I purged for the first time in seven months, I just feel a rush of calm cascade over my body. It felt so good but I'm so disappointed in myself,” posted utterly_devious.
A 10 year study conducted by the National Association of Anorexia Nervosa and Associated Disorders reported that “5 to 10 percent of anorexics die within 10 years after contracting the disease; 18 to 20 percent of anorexics will be dead after 20 years and only 30 to 40 percent ever fully recover.”
With these frightening statistics, it’s a wonder that these pro-anorexia communities are not banned or shut down. Some members of the communities, who either invoke a negative outlook for the other members or who don’t play by the strict rules moderated by the community’s creator, do get banned. But, the fact that these sites still exist with an overwhelming number of members is a problem for adolescent females.
“I don't want to blame social networking [sites] for this, but it's easier to seek out networks [online] for less popular aspects of social life,” Farquhar said,” Social support isn't always seen as negative, but in this case, it's definitely negative.”
What is your thinspiration? Is it a girl lifting up her shirt so you can count every one of her ribs? Is it girl with such slender legs they look like stilts loosely attached to her torso? Is it Nicole Ritchie? Mary-Kate or Ashley Olsen? Or is it a group of people in a community online to help you reach your goal weight and offer helpful suggestions on how to fast, binge, and purge?
Online communities have been bringing people together from varying backgrounds and interests. A surprising and frighteningly common interest today is eating disorders. Although there are countless support groups for people suffering from eating disorders and anti-eating disorder groups, Livejournal, Facebook, and Myspace are home to a number of pro-anorexia communities.
“I had under 1000 cals today but I feel so fat!” posted anii_ruth.
“I already binged 530 calories. That's it. That's 30 over my calorie limit,” posted fatcow66.
“My boyfriend came around and we made white hot chocolate, but I had to purge that up too...I’m so ashamed that I did it when he was there, but I had to get it out,” posted miss_nishnash.
These are just a few of the millions of posts on proanorexia, a community on Livejournal.com that prides itself on being the “World’s Largest Pro-Anorexia Site” with 18,696 members and over two million posts.
Anorexia nervosa, as well as other eating disorders, including bulimia and purging, have been prevalent in the adolescent female (and male) community for ages. A large part of this is due to the mainstream media promoting this ideal female body image; that thin and super skinny is sexy. “The mainstream media is definitely promoting this thin ideal and poor body image for females. And it’s at the root of the problem,” said Lee Farquhar, a graduate teaching assistant in the journalism department at the University of Iowa.
An excerpt from Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia by Marya Hornbacher (and a favorite book of many proanorexia members) states: “The anorectic operates under the astounding illusion that she can escape the flesh, and by associating, the realm of emotions.” This seems true as people in these communities are escaping the reality of their situation and the negative perception they receive from those in the real world, from parents, siblings, friends, or significant others, and instead, are seeking online comfort to support their eating disorder.
“In their offline, real world communities, their actions are against the social norms. They get punished for those behaviors. These people are looking for a place where they can do these behaviors [online]. They’re looking for support to build up their confidence,” said Farquhar, “And there’re a lot of strategic interactions, like, ‘how can I eat less?’ A lot of people give advice on how to skip meals without parents and significant others noticing.”
“Anyone want to liquid fast with me until Saturday night? I really need a texting buddy to keep me motivated,” posted pshhxitsmee.
In the profile, or information section, of the proanorexia community, the moderator clearly states: “If [anorectics and bulimics] are going to do it anyway, they can take advantage of the knowledge and experience of others to avoid doing things in dangerous ways.” This means the thousands of members of this community, and others like it, seek these communities out for advice on how to fast and purge better or so that no one close to them notices.
Among the advice to help people fast better or the support for those on liquid diets or the best brand of laxative to use, there are some posters who warn people of the negative effects of various eating disorders. For example, not_today_1223 posted: “I got my teeth done today, four pulled and replaced because they were totally rotten out from purging… For people thinking they want to start purging, please consider learning from my mistakes. It’s not worth it, it hurts!”
Although eating disorders have been around for as long as celebrities have been flaunting their toned, impossibly slender figures, social networking sites have not. Before females (although there are most likely male users, as well) had this online support system, they had to deal with their problems the old fashioned way: hiding them or going to a clinic or hospital for help.
According to the South Carolina Department of Mental Health, one in every 200 women suffers from anorexia; while two to three in every 100 women suffer from bulimia. Only one in every 10 of these women suffering ever receive treatment for their disorder. Adolescent females are the biggest sufferers when it comes to eating disorders with 95 percent of them between ages 12 to 25. Eating disorders also have the highest rate of mortality out of any mental illness with suicide being a common problem.
“So today I had 16 calories worth of strawberries. I went to the gym and nearly fainted, but still managed to burn approximately 245 calories. No more food for me today!” posted misskiah.
The University of Iowa’s Hospitals and Clinics have an entire program dedicated to those suffering from eating disorders. According to the clinic’s website, their goal for their patients is “diagnosis and comprehensive treatment of all eating disorders. We also hope to prevent these disorders, and we want to decrease the weight and shape-related worries.” Although their goal is honorable, it’s clear that not every person suffering will receive treatment and instead of confessing to their problem, social networking sites gives them another opportunity to escape from the reality of their problem, while also seeking advice that promotes and helps their disorder along.
“I purged for the first time in seven months, I just feel a rush of calm cascade over my body. It felt so good but I'm so disappointed in myself,” posted utterly_devious.
A 10 year study conducted by the National Association of Anorexia Nervosa and Associated Disorders reported that “5 to 10 percent of anorexics die within 10 years after contracting the disease; 18 to 20 percent of anorexics will be dead after 20 years and only 30 to 40 percent ever fully recover.”
With these frightening statistics, it’s a wonder that these pro-anorexia communities are not banned or shut down. Some members of the communities, who either invoke a negative outlook for the other members or who don’t play by the strict rules moderated by the community’s creator, do get banned. But, the fact that these sites still exist with an overwhelming number of members is a problem for adolescent females.
“I don't want to blame social networking [sites] for this, but it's easier to seek out networks [online] for less popular aspects of social life,” Farquhar said,” Social support isn't always seen as negative, but in this case, it's definitely negative.”
Ikuko Yuasa Sensei: A Profile
10/17/2008
Light on her ballet flats, she brushes into the classroom, while her long silk dress billows at her feet. She sets her Louis Vuitton purse on the desk and begins the long grind of setting up the power point for her class. Ikuko Patricia Yuasa takes attendance and announces, “Today we’re gonna talk about Japanese politeness.” She calls on the first student, who inevitably groans, to answer a question from the reading assignment. She enthusiastically, but quietly agrees with the student’s answer, opening the room for discussion, encouraging each answer with “Oh, I see” or “Oh, okay.”
“She’s so cute,” whispered Sheila Thomsen, one of Yuasa’s students, while another student, Akihiro Takahashi, idly draws a picture of Yuasa on his reading assignment sheet with a word bubble coming from her mouth, saying, ‘Oh, okay.’
Yuasa, a professor of Japanese studies at the University of Iowa, is far from home in many aspects in Iowa City, Iowa. She grew up in her “dear hometown” of Miyazaki, Japan, a tropical city on the Kyushu Island, facing the Pacific Ocean.
Her mother was an elementary school teacher, so it was only natural for Yuasa to become a teacher. When the kanji, or character, of her name, Ikuko, is broken down, “iku” means education and “ko” means nurturing child. “I always wanted to be a teacher,” she said, “Professors get to do so many things: teaching, research, advising, administrative work.” She knows that most professors thoroughly dislike the administrative aspect, but she loves all aspects of her job at the University of Iowa.
She especially likes to meet with prospective students and their parents. “It’s fun to chat with them and about their children,” she said, “I enjoy the Japanese language program by meeting people.”
The less Japanese part of her name, Patricia, is her Catholic name. Though she was raised in a Shinto household, she visited Sunday school classes as a kindergartener, which were taught by an Italian priest.
“Okay, I’ll give you a little history,” said Yuasa eagerly. In the 16th century, Miyazaki, Japan was conquered by Jesuits in an attempt to convert many people to Christianity. However, the Shogun was outraged by this and began killing converts who confessed by crucifying them. Some converts did not confess so they could secretly pass on the Catholic traditions to younger generations. Now only 0.6 percent of people in Japan are Catholic.
Yuasa was baptized by an Italian priest in her late twenties, which is when she took on the name ‘Patricia.’ Now churches are common throughout southern Japan and the risk of being criticized, or worse, crucified, for being Catholic is gone.
Because of the Western tradition of Catholicism, Yuasa had always been curious about the West. She spent a couple years taking classes at UC Berkley in California. Afterwards, she moved back to Japan and graduated from the University of Tokyo. Not quite done with schooling or America, she decided to get her master’s degree in Hawaii, where she taught for two years at the University of Hilo. Though she frowns upon students sleeping in her own class, she admits to constantly falling asleep in her afternoon classes in Hawaii because of the overwhelming heat, something Iowa only provides in the summer.
The winter months of Iowa City are long and grueling for anyone not used to them, but Yuasa doesn’t mind. In fact, she likes Midwest temperatures, which is why she wears light dresses year-round. “I can’t believe when I see people wearing turtle-neck sweaters in such well-heated rooms!” she exclaimed.
“I think tolerance of body temperature is something you’re born with, not where you’re raised,” she said. When first visiting Iowa City in the month of February, she was cautioned to put on her coat and scarf before leaving any building because it would be “too late” if she stepped outside before doing so. “People are always sympathetic when they find out where I’m from,” she said. “They are constantly asking me, ‘Aren’t you feeling cold?’ But, I’m not complaining about weather.”
But, she learned her lesson about the snowy months and ice-covered ground early in her Iowa City stay. While rushing, as she always is, to get to class, she slipped and fell in a parking lot. Luckily, no one saw her and she didn’t hurt herself, but she quickly learned not to run on the ice. She was glad it happened and invested in a pair of shoes that she described as having spikes on the bottom to help grip the slippery surfaces better.
Besides being immune to Iowa City’s freezing temperatures, Yuasa found the winter atmosphere fascinating when she first visited. “I found the naked trees with no leaves very beautiful,” she said, “It was so different from palm trees in Japan and Hawaii.”
Yuasa has been crossing cultural boundaries from a very young age through her interest in ballet. She started taking ballet classes in kindergarten and continues taking intermediate ballet classes now at the University of Iowa. “I feel like I can connect to anyone in the world by taking ballet,” she said, “We can connect through this common experience of dance.” She mused that the other Japanese professors and teaching assistances giggle at her because she is always rushing off, saying, “I have to go to ballet, bye!”
Besides the unusual hobby of ballet, Yuasa also has an affinity to collecting antique handkerchiefs and gloves. She eagerly displayed and showed them, saying, “I like collecting these things from good ol’ American times.” She also noticed that American woman used to be smaller, more like her own size, so the gloves she finds fit her perfectly. “I’m just having fun by constantly looking for these beautiful handkerchiefs and gloves.”
A question Yuasa is constantly asked is how she can speak English so well after being born and raised in Japan. Her answer is simple: American music. As a girl, her younger brother was obsessed with American music, especially the song “American Pie” by Don McLean. Her brother would play the guitar while she sang along. The Osmond Brothers and Peter Frampton were also popular musicians in Japan, so she memorized and sang along to their songs.
Although she was too young to be a Beatles fan, she enjoyed John Lennon’s solo music, as well as more surprising music choices, such as Chicago and Led Zeppelin. After moving to America, she still enjoys this music and learns more and more from it. “Americans and I get excited about the music we grew up with,” she said, “Music just really helps.”
Yuasa reaches the end of the reading assignment document and a sigh of relief sweeps across the classroom. She smiles to the room and clicks around on the screen, saying, “Okay, see you next time.”
Light on her ballet flats, she brushes into the classroom, while her long silk dress billows at her feet. She sets her Louis Vuitton purse on the desk and begins the long grind of setting up the power point for her class. Ikuko Patricia Yuasa takes attendance and announces, “Today we’re gonna talk about Japanese politeness.” She calls on the first student, who inevitably groans, to answer a question from the reading assignment. She enthusiastically, but quietly agrees with the student’s answer, opening the room for discussion, encouraging each answer with “Oh, I see” or “Oh, okay.”
“She’s so cute,” whispered Sheila Thomsen, one of Yuasa’s students, while another student, Akihiro Takahashi, idly draws a picture of Yuasa on his reading assignment sheet with a word bubble coming from her mouth, saying, ‘Oh, okay.’
Yuasa, a professor of Japanese studies at the University of Iowa, is far from home in many aspects in Iowa City, Iowa. She grew up in her “dear hometown” of Miyazaki, Japan, a tropical city on the Kyushu Island, facing the Pacific Ocean.
Her mother was an elementary school teacher, so it was only natural for Yuasa to become a teacher. When the kanji, or character, of her name, Ikuko, is broken down, “iku” means education and “ko” means nurturing child. “I always wanted to be a teacher,” she said, “Professors get to do so many things: teaching, research, advising, administrative work.” She knows that most professors thoroughly dislike the administrative aspect, but she loves all aspects of her job at the University of Iowa.
She especially likes to meet with prospective students and their parents. “It’s fun to chat with them and about their children,” she said, “I enjoy the Japanese language program by meeting people.”
The less Japanese part of her name, Patricia, is her Catholic name. Though she was raised in a Shinto household, she visited Sunday school classes as a kindergartener, which were taught by an Italian priest.
“Okay, I’ll give you a little history,” said Yuasa eagerly. In the 16th century, Miyazaki, Japan was conquered by Jesuits in an attempt to convert many people to Christianity. However, the Shogun was outraged by this and began killing converts who confessed by crucifying them. Some converts did not confess so they could secretly pass on the Catholic traditions to younger generations. Now only 0.6 percent of people in Japan are Catholic.
Yuasa was baptized by an Italian priest in her late twenties, which is when she took on the name ‘Patricia.’ Now churches are common throughout southern Japan and the risk of being criticized, or worse, crucified, for being Catholic is gone.
Because of the Western tradition of Catholicism, Yuasa had always been curious about the West. She spent a couple years taking classes at UC Berkley in California. Afterwards, she moved back to Japan and graduated from the University of Tokyo. Not quite done with schooling or America, she decided to get her master’s degree in Hawaii, where she taught for two years at the University of Hilo. Though she frowns upon students sleeping in her own class, she admits to constantly falling asleep in her afternoon classes in Hawaii because of the overwhelming heat, something Iowa only provides in the summer.
The winter months of Iowa City are long and grueling for anyone not used to them, but Yuasa doesn’t mind. In fact, she likes Midwest temperatures, which is why she wears light dresses year-round. “I can’t believe when I see people wearing turtle-neck sweaters in such well-heated rooms!” she exclaimed.
“I think tolerance of body temperature is something you’re born with, not where you’re raised,” she said. When first visiting Iowa City in the month of February, she was cautioned to put on her coat and scarf before leaving any building because it would be “too late” if she stepped outside before doing so. “People are always sympathetic when they find out where I’m from,” she said. “They are constantly asking me, ‘Aren’t you feeling cold?’ But, I’m not complaining about weather.”
But, she learned her lesson about the snowy months and ice-covered ground early in her Iowa City stay. While rushing, as she always is, to get to class, she slipped and fell in a parking lot. Luckily, no one saw her and she didn’t hurt herself, but she quickly learned not to run on the ice. She was glad it happened and invested in a pair of shoes that she described as having spikes on the bottom to help grip the slippery surfaces better.
Besides being immune to Iowa City’s freezing temperatures, Yuasa found the winter atmosphere fascinating when she first visited. “I found the naked trees with no leaves very beautiful,” she said, “It was so different from palm trees in Japan and Hawaii.”
Yuasa has been crossing cultural boundaries from a very young age through her interest in ballet. She started taking ballet classes in kindergarten and continues taking intermediate ballet classes now at the University of Iowa. “I feel like I can connect to anyone in the world by taking ballet,” she said, “We can connect through this common experience of dance.” She mused that the other Japanese professors and teaching assistances giggle at her because she is always rushing off, saying, “I have to go to ballet, bye!”
Besides the unusual hobby of ballet, Yuasa also has an affinity to collecting antique handkerchiefs and gloves. She eagerly displayed and showed them, saying, “I like collecting these things from good ol’ American times.” She also noticed that American woman used to be smaller, more like her own size, so the gloves she finds fit her perfectly. “I’m just having fun by constantly looking for these beautiful handkerchiefs and gloves.”
A question Yuasa is constantly asked is how she can speak English so well after being born and raised in Japan. Her answer is simple: American music. As a girl, her younger brother was obsessed with American music, especially the song “American Pie” by Don McLean. Her brother would play the guitar while she sang along. The Osmond Brothers and Peter Frampton were also popular musicians in Japan, so she memorized and sang along to their songs.
Although she was too young to be a Beatles fan, she enjoyed John Lennon’s solo music, as well as more surprising music choices, such as Chicago and Led Zeppelin. After moving to America, she still enjoys this music and learns more and more from it. “Americans and I get excited about the music we grew up with,” she said, “Music just really helps.”
Yuasa reaches the end of the reading assignment document and a sigh of relief sweeps across the classroom. She smiles to the room and clicks around on the screen, saying, “Okay, see you next time.”
Bijou: Iowa City's Independent Theater
10/10/2008
Instead of shelling out $8.50 for a ticket to see The Dark Knight for the fifth time, why not support a local student-run movie theater?
The Bijou, currently located in Lecture Room 2 of Van Allen Hall, offers independent and foreign films at the low price of five dollars a showing, which University of Iowa students can charge to their U-Bill. According to Bijou enthusiasts, such as Sarah Abele, programming director for the Bijou, the experience is worth even more than that.
Though the Bijou doesn’t play what typical students would consider popular films, they do play films that sometimes only 10 theaters in the nation are showing. These films run all Friday night and all day Saturday and Sunday. “Just like a real movie theater,” Abele said.
The Bijou changed locations after the IMU was closed due to the flood, but not many students are aware it’s still around without the IMU. “The main area where we're hurting is in attracting new students--undergraduates especially--to the theater because they haven't had the chance to go through the IMU,” said Elise Cook, executive director for the Bijou.
“The flood was a big hit to the Bijou's business over the summer, we lost our theater location and a month's worth of business,” explained projectionist Michael “Misha” McKinlay.
Unable to go through with their summer schedule was “very sad,” according to Abele. Although the Bijou lost some of its money, luckily, the film companies were “nice” and accommodated what they could with shipping charges and cancelling orders.
“We were able to stay afloat,” Abele said, no pun intended, proud that the Bijou remained open, when many student organizations did not. They found a new location with the help of an advisor and are making what money they can since the new semester began.
Despite the drop in attendance, the Bijou is “breaking even” from concessions and from the more popular independent films shown. “Hopefully business will improve when we get back in the IMU,” said McKinlay, “We can worry less about just breaking even each week and work on spreading the word and drawing larger crowds.”
“Luckily, there’s enough word-of-mouth that people are coming. But, it’s more people from Iowa City instead of students,” said Abele.
Although the Bijou manages to draw a number of viewers, many are skeptical of the films shown. “Some IMU tours brand us much of the time as showing 'weird movies with subtitles,” said Cook, “I feel like we should be given more credit by university staff for what we do.”
Abele assumes the skeptics think these indie films are all about subtitles or complicated plots, or students may not think the films are popular. “I just tell them, ‘They are popular, just maybe not here,’” Abele said.
McKinlay believes students are simply unaware of the Bijou’s existence, “I'm still amazed to see how many people are shocked to learn we actually have a cheap, student-run, indie theater on campus.”
The Bijou may be an outlet for people who “wanted a unique and diverse collection of films,” but Abele hopes more people will give it a chance. “There’s something to be said for a movie theater run completely by students that’s a block from the dorms. Why not try it?” said Abele. “It’s such a different and more unique experience from going to the mall.”
“The Bijou's been around for 36 years now and that's a proud tradition to honor,” said Cook.
The Bijou plans to have a Rocky Horror Picture Show event just in time for the Halloween season. The Bijou also plans to move back into the IMU this coming November. Until then, give the Bijou a chance for five dollars in Van Allen Hall, Lecture Room 2.
Instead of shelling out $8.50 for a ticket to see The Dark Knight for the fifth time, why not support a local student-run movie theater?
The Bijou, currently located in Lecture Room 2 of Van Allen Hall, offers independent and foreign films at the low price of five dollars a showing, which University of Iowa students can charge to their U-Bill. According to Bijou enthusiasts, such as Sarah Abele, programming director for the Bijou, the experience is worth even more than that.
Though the Bijou doesn’t play what typical students would consider popular films, they do play films that sometimes only 10 theaters in the nation are showing. These films run all Friday night and all day Saturday and Sunday. “Just like a real movie theater,” Abele said.
The Bijou changed locations after the IMU was closed due to the flood, but not many students are aware it’s still around without the IMU. “The main area where we're hurting is in attracting new students--undergraduates especially--to the theater because they haven't had the chance to go through the IMU,” said Elise Cook, executive director for the Bijou.
“The flood was a big hit to the Bijou's business over the summer, we lost our theater location and a month's worth of business,” explained projectionist Michael “Misha” McKinlay.
Unable to go through with their summer schedule was “very sad,” according to Abele. Although the Bijou lost some of its money, luckily, the film companies were “nice” and accommodated what they could with shipping charges and cancelling orders.
“We were able to stay afloat,” Abele said, no pun intended, proud that the Bijou remained open, when many student organizations did not. They found a new location with the help of an advisor and are making what money they can since the new semester began.
Despite the drop in attendance, the Bijou is “breaking even” from concessions and from the more popular independent films shown. “Hopefully business will improve when we get back in the IMU,” said McKinlay, “We can worry less about just breaking even each week and work on spreading the word and drawing larger crowds.”
“Luckily, there’s enough word-of-mouth that people are coming. But, it’s more people from Iowa City instead of students,” said Abele.
Although the Bijou manages to draw a number of viewers, many are skeptical of the films shown. “Some IMU tours brand us much of the time as showing 'weird movies with subtitles,” said Cook, “I feel like we should be given more credit by university staff for what we do.”
Abele assumes the skeptics think these indie films are all about subtitles or complicated plots, or students may not think the films are popular. “I just tell them, ‘They are popular, just maybe not here,’” Abele said.
McKinlay believes students are simply unaware of the Bijou’s existence, “I'm still amazed to see how many people are shocked to learn we actually have a cheap, student-run, indie theater on campus.”
The Bijou may be an outlet for people who “wanted a unique and diverse collection of films,” but Abele hopes more people will give it a chance. “There’s something to be said for a movie theater run completely by students that’s a block from the dorms. Why not try it?” said Abele. “It’s such a different and more unique experience from going to the mall.”
“The Bijou's been around for 36 years now and that's a proud tradition to honor,” said Cook.
The Bijou plans to have a Rocky Horror Picture Show event just in time for the Halloween season. The Bijou also plans to move back into the IMU this coming November. Until then, give the Bijou a chance for five dollars in Van Allen Hall, Lecture Room 2.
Political Volunteers in Iowa City
9/26/08
You’ve all seen them. Clipboard in hand, a bright red or blue button proudly displayed on their T-shirt, they guard the entrance of the Pentacrest.
What are they doing? These students are making sure every single student on campus is registered to vote for the 2008 Presidential Election.
With Election Day nipping at voters’ heels, one has to know how to register to vote, where the polling place is located, and most importantly, figure out for whom they are voting. Some people take this a step further and become involved in the voter registration process.
Alison Panther, 19, is an intern for the Barack Obama campaign, and has been since April 2007 in both Iowa City and Chicago. Interns must put in ten hours per week, but Panther said, “Some weeks I put in close to 20 or 25 hours.” The Obama campaign has over 30 volunteers and more than 50 interns working in the Iowa City area. The John McCain campaign, however, does not have an Iowa City campaigning office, according to Obama volunteer Kristen Peters, but there is a student organization called ‘Students for McCain’.
While taking four other classes and working a part-time job at Fermosa, Panther said, “Sometimes it's hard to work everything into my schedule, but generally the campaign doesn't detract from school.”
So, what are some of these time consuming duties? Panther explained, “I've gone tabling and clip-boarding in the Pentacrest, but…we typically go door-to-door, canvassing out there on the weekends, and make phone calls during the week.”
With less than half of 18 to 24-year-olds voting in this country, these pestering people on the Pentacrest and throughout Iowa City are actually doing the voting world some good. In 2006, an Iowa organization known as Iowa Student Public Interest Research Group, or Iowa PIRG, registered 75,000 students to vote. And with texting increasing in popularity daily, text-message reminders increased the probability of voting by 4.2 percent, according to the New Voters Project. Iowa PIRG even made 94,000 personalized Get Out the Vote reminders face-to-face or over the phone. The group’s effort was not in vain as the voting rate for young adults increased by 4 percent nationally.
Though some volunteers and interns are affiliated with a certain political campaign, Panther does not feel any kind of rivalry. “The Obama and McCain campaigns are out in the field at the same time, but I've honestly never interacted with anyone from the McCain campaign,” she said, “The two student groups sat next to each other at the Student Organization Fair, but both sides make an effort to be respectful.”
Even more benefits arise from working as a volunteer or intern for any group: making new friends. Panther said, “In the pre-caucus office we were a very close-knit group. Working that hard for so long is challenging, but working with friends helps a lot.”
The world of campaigning and voter registration is not all fun and games. It is time consuming, exhausting, and full of rejection. Despite this, Panther simply “wants to see this through to the end.” And the end is definitely near.
You’ve all seen them. Clipboard in hand, a bright red or blue button proudly displayed on their T-shirt, they guard the entrance of the Pentacrest.
What are they doing? These students are making sure every single student on campus is registered to vote for the 2008 Presidential Election.
With Election Day nipping at voters’ heels, one has to know how to register to vote, where the polling place is located, and most importantly, figure out for whom they are voting. Some people take this a step further and become involved in the voter registration process.
Alison Panther, 19, is an intern for the Barack Obama campaign, and has been since April 2007 in both Iowa City and Chicago. Interns must put in ten hours per week, but Panther said, “Some weeks I put in close to 20 or 25 hours.” The Obama campaign has over 30 volunteers and more than 50 interns working in the Iowa City area. The John McCain campaign, however, does not have an Iowa City campaigning office, according to Obama volunteer Kristen Peters, but there is a student organization called ‘Students for McCain’.
While taking four other classes and working a part-time job at Fermosa, Panther said, “Sometimes it's hard to work everything into my schedule, but generally the campaign doesn't detract from school.”
So, what are some of these time consuming duties? Panther explained, “I've gone tabling and clip-boarding in the Pentacrest, but…we typically go door-to-door, canvassing out there on the weekends, and make phone calls during the week.”
With less than half of 18 to 24-year-olds voting in this country, these pestering people on the Pentacrest and throughout Iowa City are actually doing the voting world some good. In 2006, an Iowa organization known as Iowa Student Public Interest Research Group, or Iowa PIRG, registered 75,000 students to vote. And with texting increasing in popularity daily, text-message reminders increased the probability of voting by 4.2 percent, according to the New Voters Project. Iowa PIRG even made 94,000 personalized Get Out the Vote reminders face-to-face or over the phone. The group’s effort was not in vain as the voting rate for young adults increased by 4 percent nationally.
Though some volunteers and interns are affiliated with a certain political campaign, Panther does not feel any kind of rivalry. “The Obama and McCain campaigns are out in the field at the same time, but I've honestly never interacted with anyone from the McCain campaign,” she said, “The two student groups sat next to each other at the Student Organization Fair, but both sides make an effort to be respectful.”
Even more benefits arise from working as a volunteer or intern for any group: making new friends. Panther said, “In the pre-caucus office we were a very close-knit group. Working that hard for so long is challenging, but working with friends helps a lot.”
The world of campaigning and voter registration is not all fun and games. It is time consuming, exhausting, and full of rejection. Despite this, Panther simply “wants to see this through to the end.” And the end is definitely near.
Racism in Iowa City
05/062008
“Hopeless” is the feeling Vernon Jackson, a student at the University of Iowa, described he felt after he was arrested for a third time and spent a night in jail. Jackson was arrested April 28 for fourth degree theft and also charged with failing to appear at a scheduled court date for his previous arrest at Brother’s Bar & Grill, in which he went to protest the offensive black-face pictures, only to wind up with an unwarranted arrest because of an unintentional clash with a bouncer. Jackson was released the next day thanks to some of his fellow classmates and faculty, who came up with the entire $3,500 cash-only bail bond within two hours of hearing about the situation.
Instances such as this one are not an infrequent occurrence in the African American community of Iowa City. According to blackcommentator.com, Iowa has been ranked as the second worst state in the nation to be African American, in large part due to the high incarceration rates they face. Blacks in Iowa are incarcerated 13.6 times more than whites, more than twice the national average of racial disparity in incarceration, according to the Black Agenda Report.
“If I’m sitting there for five hours and going crazy, I can’t imagine five years,” Jackson told the students who had helped raise his bail money. “I’m happy to be out, but I don’t want to draw attention to me when there are so many kids who are just going to get run over by the police and have no help.”
Some students regard Iowa City, especially the University campus, as a “welcoming” environment, full of diversity. But, when most people perceive Iowa City to be diverse, it is usually never in regards to African Americans. “Definitely more diverse on the Asian side than the African American side,” observed Andrew Gaippe, 19.
Michael Iliff, 22, agreed, “[Iowa City] is diverse culturally; there’s a lot of art to see and activities to participate in. But, racially? No. There’s a lot of Asians, but other minorities, no.”
These students’ perceptions are not wrong. According to the University of Iowa’s website, as of fall semester 2007, minorities on campus make up 9.3 percent of total student enrollment. The minority population is broken down as: 3.8 percent Asian, 2.7 percent Latino, 2.4 percent African American, and 0.5 percent Native American.
Courtney Parker, 21, recruitment chair of the Black Student Union, remembered that during her sophomore year as a University of Iowa student, she “became acutely aware of how few minorities there are on campus” when she became more involved with multi-cultural activities.
A problem with the perception and lack of diversity is that a lot of the African Americans people see everyday are those who have come from the inner city of Chicago to reside here. Keith Cobbin, an Iowa City resident, said, “[The police] want to keep Iowa City all white. They don’t want to deal with these blacks multiplying in Iowa.”
The Black Agenda Report stated that “40 percent of Iowa's juvenile detention inmates are black. And, although blacks make up only 5 percent of the public school population, 22 percent of students suspended or expelled from school are black.” This definitely creates some skewed perspectives from all sides of the racial spectrum.
Jackson commented, “There are a lot of kids from ghetto Chicago. These white people never dealt with that before. Instead of trying to deal with these kids, they just expel them, suspend them, or arrest them…Instead of trying to integrate these kids into society, they just put them in jails.”
According to the U.S. Census of 2006, African Americans make up barely a fraction of Iowa’s population, totaling at 2.5 percent, and only 12.8 percent of the United States’ population. With those numbers and considering, per every 100,000 people, 412 whites and 2,290 blacks are incarcerated, it comes as no surprise that African Americans in the U.S. may feel discriminated against, especially by police, according to an article in the Waterloo-Cedar Falls Courier. The Bureau of Justice Statistics also stated that blacks in Iowa are imprisoned at a rate more than double the national average of 5.6 times.
“It is believed that a black person is more likely to have committed or will commit a crime, so profiling blacks as a way to “keep the city safe” is often used as an excuse and often accepted by the community,” said Vershawn Young, a professor of African American studies at the University of Iowa, “The fact that so many egregious incidents happen to blacks in this city without sufficient community outrage or sadness shows community complicity with profiling and prejudice.”
Parker believes that racial profiling “definitely exists”, where arrests are concerned. She even found it “suspicious that [Jackson] had to spend a night in jail for a theft charge,” though the issues concerning Jackson are definitely complex.
But, what is racial profiling and does it really occur? Ethnicminority.com defines racial profiling as “the practice of police targeting African Americans for traffic stops because they believe that African Americans are more likely to be engaged in criminal activity.” Therefore, the myth that “driving while black” has become a problem and even a fear that African Americans must face on a daily basis. Despite this practice being illegal, many blacks still feel targeted by police simply because of the color of their skin.
Many statistics have shown that racial profiling is not a myth. According to an article in Reason Magazine, a police investigator in New Jersey testified that 94 percent of drivers stopped in one town were minorities, while another report from Maryland illustrated that 76 percent of the drivers stopped along a 50-mile stretch of highway were black, when blacks make up 25 percent of Maryland’s population. Therefore, it is clear that targeting minorities happens, not only in Iowa City, but across the nation.
However, Sgt. Kelsay of the Iowa City Police Department firmly believes that “race shouldn’t play into it. It should be based on the crime.”
Jackson said, “You can’t hide being black. These cops take long, hard looks at you.”
Kelsay has not heard the Iowa City Police Department called ‘racist’ very often, but knows that complaints have been filed. “In the field when I hear it, it was from a person of color being placed under arrest.”
After Jackson’s third arrest, Parker said, “I think he is definitely targeted because he is a black male. I did think it was extreme he had to pay a 100 percent bail, but I don’t think that, in particular, was linked to his race, but to his past two crimes that were considered violent.”
Adrienne Hurley, one of Jackson’s professors, who rallied her students together to raise the bail bond money, said, “In my own experience, this demand for payment of the full amount has only been made in cases involving people of color. I have no idea what policies impact these decisions, but 10 percent is often enough to get people out.”
Kelsay would disagree, “[Racism] is not happening. There may be individuals in the department who have bigoted point of views, but you get that at any job.” He also expects that white people would be arrested far more often because of the population percentages, but that is quite obviously not the case. “We need to look at the disproportionate rate of blacks at a lower socioeconomic level, and if they are more likely to commit crimes out of necessity than anything else.” Kelsay would also hope that if he were a person of color living in Iowa City, the police would judge him based on his actions, not the color of his skin, which is what he claims the Iowa City police do.
Much of the racism African Americans experience in Iowa City, or anywhere, can either be very subtle or utterly blatant. When Vanessa Shelton, an assistant professor at the University of Iowa, was younger, she remembered how “people would drive down the street past her and call out the n-word.” She went into stores and noticed how the clerks watched her more closely than the other customers, but that it does not happen as much anymore now that she is “older and has gray hair”. But, instances similar to this are still happening in the year 2008 to many university students and Iowa City citizens.
Ryan Thomas is a prime example of this, as he awoke one day in early March to find “2 dead niggers” scribbled on his door, along with countless other racial slurs. Even before that, when Jackson went to protest the offensive black-face pictures at Brother’s Bar & Grill, he did not want to get into a fight. “Those dudes just wanted to attack me. I had to go to the emergency room. None of the bouncers got in trouble. They just went after me and I made myself more vulnerable by not fighting back.” Jackson was charged with disorderly conduct and trespassing at the bar to which he reluctantly plead guilty.
Another race issue facing African Americans in Iowa City is the dress codes at the downtown bars. Shelton thinks the dress codes are “nothing new”. She remembered when bars used to overcharge African Americans for entry to try to keep them out. Nowadays, the bars are playing on “stereotypes with expected behaviors, specifically concerning black males…[the bars] are targeting what they believe that kind of dress represents.”
Much of the clothing the bars of downtown Iowa City outlaw is what they consider to be gang-related clothing. The San Antonio Police Department released a handbook for spotting gang members in a family or neighborhood, the biggest section describing gang-related clothing. The handbook explicitly states that “the wearing of the clothing that is described in this section does not automatically make that person a gang member.” The clothing list includes: jerseys, bandanas or “rags”, low-hanging or sagging pants, beads and chains, colored shoelaces, baseball caps, and t-shirts. It is a pretty generalized list, which includes many popular clothing styles represented in the hip hop culture. So, how can the bar owners distinguish between what is gang-related and what is simply fashion? They cannot, so this, in turn, creates countless problems when people are being removed or prevented entry into bars based on their clothing choice.
“The dress codes are blatantly racist,” Jackson said, “Everything they don’t allow is black related—doo rags, baggy pants, jerseys—but all they play is rap music.”
Parker would agree, “I think there is overt and covert racism that targets black males.”
“We, as a city, are committed to ignoring the problem because, as a whole, our society tends to ignore race and black people,” said Young, “If white ways of dressing, speaking, and behaving were policed, as some should be, just think of those who do commit the most crimes at the bars downtown, then we'd see the problem.”
In a past article in the Daily Iowan, Brother’s bar co-owner Marc Fortney said the dress codes are “commonly regarded around the world as ethnic style” and that the purpose of dress codes is to “ensure the safety and welfare of patrons.” But, ensuring someone’s safety and specifically targeting people tends to create a very fine line on which the bar owners walk.
Perceptions on these varying issues tend to be skewed and complex depending on the person. Some people will always feel personally targeted and discriminated against, no matter what is happening to them, while others have no problem with the way they are treated by the otherwise white society.
“After a while, race and discrimination become a part of the way life is,” Shelton said.
Parker said, “We deal with this every single day of our lives.”
Perhaps Iowa City, or any other place, cannot change its ways. Some people, such as Cobbin, believe, “You’re not going to change the way Caucasian Americans feel, especially ones in charge,” but he does hope that Iowa City might change one day, “I don’t know if it’s going to be right away, though.”
Parker said, “When a black person is subjected to, or experiences something, there’s always the question of ‘is this because I’m black?’ This leads to misinterpretations. They don’t have the luxury to think it’s because of something else.”
Shelton still believes that despite the racism experienced by some of the students here, “Iowa’s not that bad of a place to live. I’ve had a rewarding life in Iowa and wouldn’t mind staying here through retirement,” she said, “But, it’s a difficult place for when you’re younger. You just can’t wait to get out.”
Obviously, not all white people in Iowa City would discriminate against blacks. In fact, all of the students and faculty who helped raise Jackson’s bail bond were not African American, but white or exchange students from Japan. So, the perception that all white people are racist is incorrect, as well. Then again, considering the racism the black community has experienced in Iowa City over the years and throughout the tangled history of America, it comes as no surprise that many are not too trusting of the substantially larger white society.
So, what can we do as a university and as a community to bring about change?
Despite a hopeless feeling among the African American community, there are many actions that blacks in Iowa City, organizations, such as the Black Student Union, and even white people can take and are currently taking.
Iliff believes that if an African American friend of his was being hassled or blatantly being called something offensive, he would be in support of his friend taking action, if his friend thought it was important enough.
Kent Nessa, 23, said that if he saw one of his black friends being harassed by someone, he would “kick their ass, get all up in their face about it.”
Gaippe agreed, “I’d stand up for them. I’d get in their face, try to open their eyes, avoid a fight if I could, hopefully the feelings aren’t that intense. But, I would feel comfortable putting myself between people to defend a friend.”
Defending a friend is just the start of what people can do to stop the racism blacks feel they are experiencing on a daily basis.
“The best thing to do is to educate themselves in cultural competence and white privilege,” Parker said. She has heard of white people growing up with a color blind attitude, but believes it is wrong. The African American community just wants recognition for what they deal with on a daily basis, but most white people cannot understand and they never will be able to simply because they grew up white. “You can see why people may be aggressive or put off when they’ve been dealing with this their whole lives.”
Young believes that we need to "acknowledge that we still have a lot to learn and to listen. I mean really listen to cases and reports of racial inflected incidents.”
“I think it’s because of our low exposure to the race and our preconceived notions about racism,” Iliff said, “So we avoid them. Probably because we are not exposed to them, it’s harder to accept them.”
Besides education and research, African American communities on campus are taking action. On May 2, the Black Student Union held a Solidarity March, which began at the African American Cultural Center and ended on the Pentecrest. Parker explained that there would be a door for people to write positive things on, which is in direct response to what happened to Ryan Thomas.
Hurley, who has helped pay for over 50 of her students’ and friends’ bail bonds, has also been organizing her students and others across the nation in support of Jackson’s case in an organization called “Justice4Vernon”. Hurley said, “It's possible that since the store is reportedly dropping the charges, the $1,000 bond will be returned to Vernon once his case is cleared. I'm hopeful that his attorney will fight to recover the additional amount and clear him of both charges based on what I feel was racially biased policing and indictment.”
Of course, as many have illustrated, nothing is going to change immediately or until more people have a similar mindset to admit that racism is a prevalent, everyday thing that African Americans in Iowa City must deal with and are willing to do something about it. Without proper education or knowledge on the real issues blacks in Iowa City and all across America face, nothing can change.
Parker believes that “white people need to get over their discomfort with race issues. How can we expect to possibly move forward? Once they stop stumbling over political correctness and they recognize the significance of color, we can get to the root of the problem.”
“Hopeless” is the feeling Vernon Jackson, a student at the University of Iowa, described he felt after he was arrested for a third time and spent a night in jail. Jackson was arrested April 28 for fourth degree theft and also charged with failing to appear at a scheduled court date for his previous arrest at Brother’s Bar & Grill, in which he went to protest the offensive black-face pictures, only to wind up with an unwarranted arrest because of an unintentional clash with a bouncer. Jackson was released the next day thanks to some of his fellow classmates and faculty, who came up with the entire $3,500 cash-only bail bond within two hours of hearing about the situation.
Instances such as this one are not an infrequent occurrence in the African American community of Iowa City. According to blackcommentator.com, Iowa has been ranked as the second worst state in the nation to be African American, in large part due to the high incarceration rates they face. Blacks in Iowa are incarcerated 13.6 times more than whites, more than twice the national average of racial disparity in incarceration, according to the Black Agenda Report.
“If I’m sitting there for five hours and going crazy, I can’t imagine five years,” Jackson told the students who had helped raise his bail money. “I’m happy to be out, but I don’t want to draw attention to me when there are so many kids who are just going to get run over by the police and have no help.”
Some students regard Iowa City, especially the University campus, as a “welcoming” environment, full of diversity. But, when most people perceive Iowa City to be diverse, it is usually never in regards to African Americans. “Definitely more diverse on the Asian side than the African American side,” observed Andrew Gaippe, 19.
Michael Iliff, 22, agreed, “[Iowa City] is diverse culturally; there’s a lot of art to see and activities to participate in. But, racially? No. There’s a lot of Asians, but other minorities, no.”
These students’ perceptions are not wrong. According to the University of Iowa’s website, as of fall semester 2007, minorities on campus make up 9.3 percent of total student enrollment. The minority population is broken down as: 3.8 percent Asian, 2.7 percent Latino, 2.4 percent African American, and 0.5 percent Native American.
Courtney Parker, 21, recruitment chair of the Black Student Union, remembered that during her sophomore year as a University of Iowa student, she “became acutely aware of how few minorities there are on campus” when she became more involved with multi-cultural activities.
A problem with the perception and lack of diversity is that a lot of the African Americans people see everyday are those who have come from the inner city of Chicago to reside here. Keith Cobbin, an Iowa City resident, said, “[The police] want to keep Iowa City all white. They don’t want to deal with these blacks multiplying in Iowa.”
The Black Agenda Report stated that “40 percent of Iowa's juvenile detention inmates are black. And, although blacks make up only 5 percent of the public school population, 22 percent of students suspended or expelled from school are black.” This definitely creates some skewed perspectives from all sides of the racial spectrum.
Jackson commented, “There are a lot of kids from ghetto Chicago. These white people never dealt with that before. Instead of trying to deal with these kids, they just expel them, suspend them, or arrest them…Instead of trying to integrate these kids into society, they just put them in jails.”
According to the U.S. Census of 2006, African Americans make up barely a fraction of Iowa’s population, totaling at 2.5 percent, and only 12.8 percent of the United States’ population. With those numbers and considering, per every 100,000 people, 412 whites and 2,290 blacks are incarcerated, it comes as no surprise that African Americans in the U.S. may feel discriminated against, especially by police, according to an article in the Waterloo-Cedar Falls Courier. The Bureau of Justice Statistics also stated that blacks in Iowa are imprisoned at a rate more than double the national average of 5.6 times.
“It is believed that a black person is more likely to have committed or will commit a crime, so profiling blacks as a way to “keep the city safe” is often used as an excuse and often accepted by the community,” said Vershawn Young, a professor of African American studies at the University of Iowa, “The fact that so many egregious incidents happen to blacks in this city without sufficient community outrage or sadness shows community complicity with profiling and prejudice.”
Parker believes that racial profiling “definitely exists”, where arrests are concerned. She even found it “suspicious that [Jackson] had to spend a night in jail for a theft charge,” though the issues concerning Jackson are definitely complex.
But, what is racial profiling and does it really occur? Ethnicminority.com defines racial profiling as “the practice of police targeting African Americans for traffic stops because they believe that African Americans are more likely to be engaged in criminal activity.” Therefore, the myth that “driving while black” has become a problem and even a fear that African Americans must face on a daily basis. Despite this practice being illegal, many blacks still feel targeted by police simply because of the color of their skin.
Many statistics have shown that racial profiling is not a myth. According to an article in Reason Magazine, a police investigator in New Jersey testified that 94 percent of drivers stopped in one town were minorities, while another report from Maryland illustrated that 76 percent of the drivers stopped along a 50-mile stretch of highway were black, when blacks make up 25 percent of Maryland’s population. Therefore, it is clear that targeting minorities happens, not only in Iowa City, but across the nation.
However, Sgt. Kelsay of the Iowa City Police Department firmly believes that “race shouldn’t play into it. It should be based on the crime.”
Jackson said, “You can’t hide being black. These cops take long, hard looks at you.”
Kelsay has not heard the Iowa City Police Department called ‘racist’ very often, but knows that complaints have been filed. “In the field when I hear it, it was from a person of color being placed under arrest.”
After Jackson’s third arrest, Parker said, “I think he is definitely targeted because he is a black male. I did think it was extreme he had to pay a 100 percent bail, but I don’t think that, in particular, was linked to his race, but to his past two crimes that were considered violent.”
Adrienne Hurley, one of Jackson’s professors, who rallied her students together to raise the bail bond money, said, “In my own experience, this demand for payment of the full amount has only been made in cases involving people of color. I have no idea what policies impact these decisions, but 10 percent is often enough to get people out.”
Kelsay would disagree, “[Racism] is not happening. There may be individuals in the department who have bigoted point of views, but you get that at any job.” He also expects that white people would be arrested far more often because of the population percentages, but that is quite obviously not the case. “We need to look at the disproportionate rate of blacks at a lower socioeconomic level, and if they are more likely to commit crimes out of necessity than anything else.” Kelsay would also hope that if he were a person of color living in Iowa City, the police would judge him based on his actions, not the color of his skin, which is what he claims the Iowa City police do.
Much of the racism African Americans experience in Iowa City, or anywhere, can either be very subtle or utterly blatant. When Vanessa Shelton, an assistant professor at the University of Iowa, was younger, she remembered how “people would drive down the street past her and call out the n-word.” She went into stores and noticed how the clerks watched her more closely than the other customers, but that it does not happen as much anymore now that she is “older and has gray hair”. But, instances similar to this are still happening in the year 2008 to many university students and Iowa City citizens.
Ryan Thomas is a prime example of this, as he awoke one day in early March to find “2 dead niggers” scribbled on his door, along with countless other racial slurs. Even before that, when Jackson went to protest the offensive black-face pictures at Brother’s Bar & Grill, he did not want to get into a fight. “Those dudes just wanted to attack me. I had to go to the emergency room. None of the bouncers got in trouble. They just went after me and I made myself more vulnerable by not fighting back.” Jackson was charged with disorderly conduct and trespassing at the bar to which he reluctantly plead guilty.
Another race issue facing African Americans in Iowa City is the dress codes at the downtown bars. Shelton thinks the dress codes are “nothing new”. She remembered when bars used to overcharge African Americans for entry to try to keep them out. Nowadays, the bars are playing on “stereotypes with expected behaviors, specifically concerning black males…[the bars] are targeting what they believe that kind of dress represents.”
Much of the clothing the bars of downtown Iowa City outlaw is what they consider to be gang-related clothing. The San Antonio Police Department released a handbook for spotting gang members in a family or neighborhood, the biggest section describing gang-related clothing. The handbook explicitly states that “the wearing of the clothing that is described in this section does not automatically make that person a gang member.” The clothing list includes: jerseys, bandanas or “rags”, low-hanging or sagging pants, beads and chains, colored shoelaces, baseball caps, and t-shirts. It is a pretty generalized list, which includes many popular clothing styles represented in the hip hop culture. So, how can the bar owners distinguish between what is gang-related and what is simply fashion? They cannot, so this, in turn, creates countless problems when people are being removed or prevented entry into bars based on their clothing choice.
“The dress codes are blatantly racist,” Jackson said, “Everything they don’t allow is black related—doo rags, baggy pants, jerseys—but all they play is rap music.”
Parker would agree, “I think there is overt and covert racism that targets black males.”
“We, as a city, are committed to ignoring the problem because, as a whole, our society tends to ignore race and black people,” said Young, “If white ways of dressing, speaking, and behaving were policed, as some should be, just think of those who do commit the most crimes at the bars downtown, then we'd see the problem.”
In a past article in the Daily Iowan, Brother’s bar co-owner Marc Fortney said the dress codes are “commonly regarded around the world as ethnic style” and that the purpose of dress codes is to “ensure the safety and welfare of patrons.” But, ensuring someone’s safety and specifically targeting people tends to create a very fine line on which the bar owners walk.
Perceptions on these varying issues tend to be skewed and complex depending on the person. Some people will always feel personally targeted and discriminated against, no matter what is happening to them, while others have no problem with the way they are treated by the otherwise white society.
“After a while, race and discrimination become a part of the way life is,” Shelton said.
Parker said, “We deal with this every single day of our lives.”
Perhaps Iowa City, or any other place, cannot change its ways. Some people, such as Cobbin, believe, “You’re not going to change the way Caucasian Americans feel, especially ones in charge,” but he does hope that Iowa City might change one day, “I don’t know if it’s going to be right away, though.”
Parker said, “When a black person is subjected to, or experiences something, there’s always the question of ‘is this because I’m black?’ This leads to misinterpretations. They don’t have the luxury to think it’s because of something else.”
Shelton still believes that despite the racism experienced by some of the students here, “Iowa’s not that bad of a place to live. I’ve had a rewarding life in Iowa and wouldn’t mind staying here through retirement,” she said, “But, it’s a difficult place for when you’re younger. You just can’t wait to get out.”
Obviously, not all white people in Iowa City would discriminate against blacks. In fact, all of the students and faculty who helped raise Jackson’s bail bond were not African American, but white or exchange students from Japan. So, the perception that all white people are racist is incorrect, as well. Then again, considering the racism the black community has experienced in Iowa City over the years and throughout the tangled history of America, it comes as no surprise that many are not too trusting of the substantially larger white society.
So, what can we do as a university and as a community to bring about change?
Despite a hopeless feeling among the African American community, there are many actions that blacks in Iowa City, organizations, such as the Black Student Union, and even white people can take and are currently taking.
Iliff believes that if an African American friend of his was being hassled or blatantly being called something offensive, he would be in support of his friend taking action, if his friend thought it was important enough.
Kent Nessa, 23, said that if he saw one of his black friends being harassed by someone, he would “kick their ass, get all up in their face about it.”
Gaippe agreed, “I’d stand up for them. I’d get in their face, try to open their eyes, avoid a fight if I could, hopefully the feelings aren’t that intense. But, I would feel comfortable putting myself between people to defend a friend.”
Defending a friend is just the start of what people can do to stop the racism blacks feel they are experiencing on a daily basis.
“The best thing to do is to educate themselves in cultural competence and white privilege,” Parker said. She has heard of white people growing up with a color blind attitude, but believes it is wrong. The African American community just wants recognition for what they deal with on a daily basis, but most white people cannot understand and they never will be able to simply because they grew up white. “You can see why people may be aggressive or put off when they’ve been dealing with this their whole lives.”
Young believes that we need to "acknowledge that we still have a lot to learn and to listen. I mean really listen to cases and reports of racial inflected incidents.”
“I think it’s because of our low exposure to the race and our preconceived notions about racism,” Iliff said, “So we avoid them. Probably because we are not exposed to them, it’s harder to accept them.”
Besides education and research, African American communities on campus are taking action. On May 2, the Black Student Union held a Solidarity March, which began at the African American Cultural Center and ended on the Pentecrest. Parker explained that there would be a door for people to write positive things on, which is in direct response to what happened to Ryan Thomas.
Hurley, who has helped pay for over 50 of her students’ and friends’ bail bonds, has also been organizing her students and others across the nation in support of Jackson’s case in an organization called “Justice4Vernon”. Hurley said, “It's possible that since the store is reportedly dropping the charges, the $1,000 bond will be returned to Vernon once his case is cleared. I'm hopeful that his attorney will fight to recover the additional amount and clear him of both charges based on what I feel was racially biased policing and indictment.”
Of course, as many have illustrated, nothing is going to change immediately or until more people have a similar mindset to admit that racism is a prevalent, everyday thing that African Americans in Iowa City must deal with and are willing to do something about it. Without proper education or knowledge on the real issues blacks in Iowa City and all across America face, nothing can change.
Parker believes that “white people need to get over their discomfort with race issues. How can we expect to possibly move forward? Once they stop stumbling over political correctness and they recognize the significance of color, we can get to the root of the problem.”
Adrienne Hurley: Anarchy in Iowa
4/20/2008
“Oh, I love you guys so much, you’re all so smart,” Adrienne Hurley squeals excitedly after a series of discussions between her students in her Insurgency and Globalization of Discontent class, the class she tells her students time and again is the closest to her heart.
Professor Adrienne Hurley, practically fluent in Japanese and taught literature and culture classes, such as Asian Humanities Japan and Japanarchy, at the University of Iowa, did not always want to become a teacher. In fact, it was the last thing on her list of possible future professions.
In kindergarten, Hurley, described by her mother, Kathie Crume, as “bright, busy, inquisitive and extremely nurturing”, hoped to become a nun, until she found out that nuns have to get up very early in the morning. Her dreams varied after that from wanting to become a dentist to a professional musician. “There was never a consistent dream,” Hurley said. Her mother even remembers a time when her dream was to become a museum curator.
Hurley’s studies eventually led her to the path of teaching. “It was accidental,” she said. She started studying Japanese in school and eventually traveled to Japan. She had an opportunity to stay to be on a children’s television program, but was coaxed back to the United States to go to graduate school. “Japanese was just a side-effect of my graduate studies,” said Hurley. “I am into my research, but I ended up liking teaching way more than I thought I would.” For a long time during graduate school, Hurley experienced many doubts and anxiety, and even felt like quitting. “I never think about that anymore. It’s really fun. I’m pretty lucky. I spend my life reading and thinking and talking about stuff that’s pretty important with other people.”
Hurley’s students couldn’t be happier to spend their time thinking and talking about important ‘stuff’ with her.
“For three hours a week we get to discuss the all the big issues in the world…totally freely,” said Nate George, 24, a student of the Insurgency class, “I don't feel like I have to hold my tongue and neither does anyone else. And it's not uncommon for students to break into tears while relating personal stories.”
Kate Waterloo, 20, another Insurgency student, agreed, “Adrienne classes are just so relaxed and questions are more in depth and it's more of a conversational setting…I just feel so comfortable in a class with Adrienne that I don't have a problem putting my two cents in because I know Adrienne will appreciate anything I have to say, regardless of whether or not she agrees with it.”
Even though Hurley has a fulfilling life now, her home life was more difficult than the average kid growing up in Colorado Springs, Colorado in the Cheyenne Mountain region. She lived near the NORAD (North American Aerospace Defense Command) base, a huge military installation that can withstand a nuclear attack. Though her mother still lives in the region, the big joke throughout her childhood was that she lived in ‘Ground Zero’. Laughing, Hurley said, “There was always a danger of a nuclear attack, so we had to party a lot.”
Hurley experienced even more difficulties than simply living in a dangerous town. Growing up, she and her younger brother, Jimmy, suffered repeated and prolonged abuse. The police visited her home many times, and she and her brother visited the emergency room often. The laws were not very strict and very different back then, so not much was done to stop it until she was a teen. “There was a general culture of minding one’s own business,” she recalled, so there wasn’t much anyone could do to help her family.
Hurley had always been close to her brother, Jimmy. Because of their difficult childhood together, Jimmy ended his life early in 1995. Not a day goes by that she doesn’t miss him. When she was in graduate school, getting her Master’s degree, her brother was in his first year of college on an ROTC scholarship at Notre Dame and came to visit her. “I was all excited. I bought his favorite cereal and everything,” she said. She saved up money for weeks so she could take him to a fancy Italian dinner. But, sometime during the meal, she began to feel incredibly sick. She knew she wouldn’t last long, so the two left without finishing their dinner. She got sick before they even made it back home. But, her brother stayed in her room and took care of her all night. “My little brother was putting wash cloths on my forehead, answered my phone, and took messages. I guess because he’s gone and I miss him so much, it’s just this really precious memory,” she said, “I guess all of my best memories are of my brother because he was so thoughtful and sweet. It wasn’t being sick that makes it a favorite, but the feeling of being close to someone.”
Though her brother was the most important person in her life when she was younger and she did not have many friends, she is now surrounded by people who appreciate her, students and friends alike.
Hurley met her boyfriend, Tim Gauger, 37, on May 1, 2007. She spoke at an event that the University Library, where he works, put on last Mayday. He had seen her before, knew her face and name, but had never spoken to her. The two became closer after spending some time on the phone and planned a date later in the week. “We picked up steam from there,” Gauger said. “She’s just real friendly and funny. It’s easy to have a conversation with her.” The two have been together for over a year now and plan to keep their relationship going as long as possible.
Despite having a comfortable and satisfying home life now, when she was young, Hurley tried anything to spend time away from her home. She joined band in high school to meet more people, she involved herself in various political movements, and even went as far as running away numerous times when it got really bad. The furthest she got from her home in Colorado was Oklahoma in a stolen car.
Political activism became a huge part of her life from a very young age. The first big activist group in which she became involved was a hand-gun control movement. Though the group had no idea she was only in seventh grade at the time, she became the chair. Hurley’s mother recalled, “One day I got a phone call from Washington D.C. and the individual wanted to talk to Adrienne. He asked me which university she attended and could he contact her. I said she was in seventh grade and I thought he was going to collapse!” When she was in high school, she was the sole member of Socialist Youth, and her political activism in various groups continued into college and graduate school as she saw repeated injustice throughout her life.
Because Hurley’s extended family is multi-racial, consisting of African Americans and Chicanos, she grew up with an understanding of justice. She saw how they and kids growing up were treated differently. Hurley said, “I saw that it wasn’t just unique to my neighborhood, it was hemispheric. I’m always learning more, especially coming to Iowa. I’ve learned a lot about how that stuff develops.”
Whenever Hurley recalls a time when her safety was threatened because of her anarchist, anti-racial beliefs, she doesn’t want to inflate what has happened to her. She believes that many of her friends, who are people of color, suffer much worse than her.
“I have received some anonymous threats now and then from folks upset about work I've done, especially stuff addressing racism, U.S. imperialism, and the Occupation of Palestine,” Hurley said, “But really, I've had virtually nothing compared to some of my friends. The fact that I come across like a kindergarten teacher probably makes me less threatening, too.”
These kinds of threats have not deterred anyone from taking her anarchist-themed classes. On the contrary, her classes are a usually a fight to get into. “Everything she teaches is directly related to lives that people live,” Joshua Mitchell, 22, another student of Hurley’s said, “There are few professors who are brave to enough to actually call something out that's fucked up."
“When you see Adrienne walking down the halls, do you automatically think ‘distinguished university professor’? That's part of the appeal Adrienne has as a teacher,” said Waterloo.
“I love that she's an old nutty anarchist lady who wears pink berets and pink sunglasses,” Mitchell said, “And did you know that she has an anarchy tattoo on her bicep? For real.”
“She is a living, breathing embodiment of the ideals she holds,” said George, “It is her view that differential power relationships are at the root of conflicts. That is anarchism.”
Hurley has accomplished a lot for being only 40. Besides many organizations in the past, she started the Youth Empowerment Academy in Iowa City, but the program lost its funding, so it is no longer up and running. Despite this, she is always doing something for the kids in whatever community she is living. When she lived in California, she was a court-appointed special advocate for abused kids. Even in kindergarten she reached out to a homeless boy and invited him to her family’s Thanksgiving dinner. She also has two books in the process of being finished. One is a translation of a Japanese novel, while the other is her own book about child abuse and youth violence in Japan.
Hurley’s mother could not be prouder of her daughter, “I think the work Adrienne does now is the most important work there is: helping students to examine and challenge their own beliefs about how we live together, treat each other, and our responsibilities to each other, and she does this through the medium of the content of her teaching,” she said, “ Her teaching, her activism, the time she spends with groups of students, the time with individual students, the books she writes to share her thoughts and beliefs, are all who she is and what she’s about. I am so very proud of her. If I had imagined what I wanted her to be, this is it!”
At the end of last spring semester, she could no longer impart her wisdom upon her students at the University of Iowa. She received another teaching offer in Montreal, Canada. Hurley was sad to leave, but still cherished her time spent here, “Seriously, I have loved teaching in Iowa, and I met some dear friends here, but it's also not a place where I've been able to experience a sense of community, with like-minded people roughly my age. It's actually the only place I've lived where that hasn't happened,” she said, “Maybe Iowa and I aren't a great match. It may be easier for me to connect with people who share my political and social orientation there. There are more anarchists in Montreal.”
Read Adrienne Hurley's Blog Here
“Oh, I love you guys so much, you’re all so smart,” Adrienne Hurley squeals excitedly after a series of discussions between her students in her Insurgency and Globalization of Discontent class, the class she tells her students time and again is the closest to her heart.
Professor Adrienne Hurley, practically fluent in Japanese and taught literature and culture classes, such as Asian Humanities Japan and Japanarchy, at the University of Iowa, did not always want to become a teacher. In fact, it was the last thing on her list of possible future professions.
In kindergarten, Hurley, described by her mother, Kathie Crume, as “bright, busy, inquisitive and extremely nurturing”, hoped to become a nun, until she found out that nuns have to get up very early in the morning. Her dreams varied after that from wanting to become a dentist to a professional musician. “There was never a consistent dream,” Hurley said. Her mother even remembers a time when her dream was to become a museum curator.
Hurley’s studies eventually led her to the path of teaching. “It was accidental,” she said. She started studying Japanese in school and eventually traveled to Japan. She had an opportunity to stay to be on a children’s television program, but was coaxed back to the United States to go to graduate school. “Japanese was just a side-effect of my graduate studies,” said Hurley. “I am into my research, but I ended up liking teaching way more than I thought I would.” For a long time during graduate school, Hurley experienced many doubts and anxiety, and even felt like quitting. “I never think about that anymore. It’s really fun. I’m pretty lucky. I spend my life reading and thinking and talking about stuff that’s pretty important with other people.”
Hurley’s students couldn’t be happier to spend their time thinking and talking about important ‘stuff’ with her.
“For three hours a week we get to discuss the all the big issues in the world…totally freely,” said Nate George, 24, a student of the Insurgency class, “I don't feel like I have to hold my tongue and neither does anyone else. And it's not uncommon for students to break into tears while relating personal stories.”
Kate Waterloo, 20, another Insurgency student, agreed, “Adrienne classes are just so relaxed and questions are more in depth and it's more of a conversational setting…I just feel so comfortable in a class with Adrienne that I don't have a problem putting my two cents in because I know Adrienne will appreciate anything I have to say, regardless of whether or not she agrees with it.”
Even though Hurley has a fulfilling life now, her home life was more difficult than the average kid growing up in Colorado Springs, Colorado in the Cheyenne Mountain region. She lived near the NORAD (North American Aerospace Defense Command) base, a huge military installation that can withstand a nuclear attack. Though her mother still lives in the region, the big joke throughout her childhood was that she lived in ‘Ground Zero’. Laughing, Hurley said, “There was always a danger of a nuclear attack, so we had to party a lot.”
Hurley experienced even more difficulties than simply living in a dangerous town. Growing up, she and her younger brother, Jimmy, suffered repeated and prolonged abuse. The police visited her home many times, and she and her brother visited the emergency room often. The laws were not very strict and very different back then, so not much was done to stop it until she was a teen. “There was a general culture of minding one’s own business,” she recalled, so there wasn’t much anyone could do to help her family.
Hurley had always been close to her brother, Jimmy. Because of their difficult childhood together, Jimmy ended his life early in 1995. Not a day goes by that she doesn’t miss him. When she was in graduate school, getting her Master’s degree, her brother was in his first year of college on an ROTC scholarship at Notre Dame and came to visit her. “I was all excited. I bought his favorite cereal and everything,” she said. She saved up money for weeks so she could take him to a fancy Italian dinner. But, sometime during the meal, she began to feel incredibly sick. She knew she wouldn’t last long, so the two left without finishing their dinner. She got sick before they even made it back home. But, her brother stayed in her room and took care of her all night. “My little brother was putting wash cloths on my forehead, answered my phone, and took messages. I guess because he’s gone and I miss him so much, it’s just this really precious memory,” she said, “I guess all of my best memories are of my brother because he was so thoughtful and sweet. It wasn’t being sick that makes it a favorite, but the feeling of being close to someone.”
Though her brother was the most important person in her life when she was younger and she did not have many friends, she is now surrounded by people who appreciate her, students and friends alike.
Hurley met her boyfriend, Tim Gauger, 37, on May 1, 2007. She spoke at an event that the University Library, where he works, put on last Mayday. He had seen her before, knew her face and name, but had never spoken to her. The two became closer after spending some time on the phone and planned a date later in the week. “We picked up steam from there,” Gauger said. “She’s just real friendly and funny. It’s easy to have a conversation with her.” The two have been together for over a year now and plan to keep their relationship going as long as possible.
Despite having a comfortable and satisfying home life now, when she was young, Hurley tried anything to spend time away from her home. She joined band in high school to meet more people, she involved herself in various political movements, and even went as far as running away numerous times when it got really bad. The furthest she got from her home in Colorado was Oklahoma in a stolen car.
Political activism became a huge part of her life from a very young age. The first big activist group in which she became involved was a hand-gun control movement. Though the group had no idea she was only in seventh grade at the time, she became the chair. Hurley’s mother recalled, “One day I got a phone call from Washington D.C. and the individual wanted to talk to Adrienne. He asked me which university she attended and could he contact her. I said she was in seventh grade and I thought he was going to collapse!” When she was in high school, she was the sole member of Socialist Youth, and her political activism in various groups continued into college and graduate school as she saw repeated injustice throughout her life.
Because Hurley’s extended family is multi-racial, consisting of African Americans and Chicanos, she grew up with an understanding of justice. She saw how they and kids growing up were treated differently. Hurley said, “I saw that it wasn’t just unique to my neighborhood, it was hemispheric. I’m always learning more, especially coming to Iowa. I’ve learned a lot about how that stuff develops.”
Whenever Hurley recalls a time when her safety was threatened because of her anarchist, anti-racial beliefs, she doesn’t want to inflate what has happened to her. She believes that many of her friends, who are people of color, suffer much worse than her.
“I have received some anonymous threats now and then from folks upset about work I've done, especially stuff addressing racism, U.S. imperialism, and the Occupation of Palestine,” Hurley said, “But really, I've had virtually nothing compared to some of my friends. The fact that I come across like a kindergarten teacher probably makes me less threatening, too.”
These kinds of threats have not deterred anyone from taking her anarchist-themed classes. On the contrary, her classes are a usually a fight to get into. “Everything she teaches is directly related to lives that people live,” Joshua Mitchell, 22, another student of Hurley’s said, “There are few professors who are brave to enough to actually call something out that's fucked up."
“When you see Adrienne walking down the halls, do you automatically think ‘distinguished university professor’? That's part of the appeal Adrienne has as a teacher,” said Waterloo.
“I love that she's an old nutty anarchist lady who wears pink berets and pink sunglasses,” Mitchell said, “And did you know that she has an anarchy tattoo on her bicep? For real.”
“She is a living, breathing embodiment of the ideals she holds,” said George, “It is her view that differential power relationships are at the root of conflicts. That is anarchism.”
Hurley has accomplished a lot for being only 40. Besides many organizations in the past, she started the Youth Empowerment Academy in Iowa City, but the program lost its funding, so it is no longer up and running. Despite this, she is always doing something for the kids in whatever community she is living. When she lived in California, she was a court-appointed special advocate for abused kids. Even in kindergarten she reached out to a homeless boy and invited him to her family’s Thanksgiving dinner. She also has two books in the process of being finished. One is a translation of a Japanese novel, while the other is her own book about child abuse and youth violence in Japan.
Hurley’s mother could not be prouder of her daughter, “I think the work Adrienne does now is the most important work there is: helping students to examine and challenge their own beliefs about how we live together, treat each other, and our responsibilities to each other, and she does this through the medium of the content of her teaching,” she said, “ Her teaching, her activism, the time she spends with groups of students, the time with individual students, the books she writes to share her thoughts and beliefs, are all who she is and what she’s about. I am so very proud of her. If I had imagined what I wanted her to be, this is it!”
At the end of last spring semester, she could no longer impart her wisdom upon her students at the University of Iowa. She received another teaching offer in Montreal, Canada. Hurley was sad to leave, but still cherished her time spent here, “Seriously, I have loved teaching in Iowa, and I met some dear friends here, but it's also not a place where I've been able to experience a sense of community, with like-minded people roughly my age. It's actually the only place I've lived where that hasn't happened,” she said, “Maybe Iowa and I aren't a great match. It may be easier for me to connect with people who share my political and social orientation there. There are more anarchists in Montreal.”
Read Adrienne Hurley's Blog Here
Sunday, November 16, 2008
The Spice Girls Concert
3/8/2008
Section 102, Row 6, Seat 19. I sat in between Walter and Al. We gazed at the empty stage, watching the other fans file in around us. We were all here for the same thing. Within a matter of minutes, our idols from our childhood would be in front of us, performing songs we have long since memorized and danced to for over ten years.
“We’re breathing the same air as them right now,” Walter told me with a lopsided grin.
Eight o’clock passed, then eight fifteen, then eight twenty. I felt my insides churning, and I was glad I had only eaten a can of Chef Boyardee ravioli over five hours earlier.
“You guys better get your bail money ready,” Al said with a laugh. He was jokingly planning to get onto the stage to sweep Baby Spice away and knew that any attempt would surely get him arrested.
Suddenly, the lights in the United Center went out. The three of us, at one moment in mid-conversation, sprang up, eyes gleaming at the stage. With both hands, I tightly clutched Walter’s arm, and he squeezed his hands over mine. The opening video showed five young girls playing and soon switched to clips from their old, endearingly familiar music videos. I screamed, mostly just because I could. I watched animated butterflies fly around on the video screens and felt the same things flying around in my stomach. Walter and I started jumping up and down in unison. I felt my eyes burn with tears. I screamed louder. Al shouted, “Baby!” over and over again. Little did I know, the five girls were rising on five separate platforms behind the video screen. Within moments, the video screen lifted and the screams erupted through the stadium.
The Spice Girls were on the stage. They were really there. The five of them, Posh, Ginger, Baby, Sporty, and Scary, were in front of our very eyes in gold, shimmering outfits, performing their hit song from 1997 “Spice Up Your Life”.
I shared this unforgettable night with Walter, 19, a proudly gay fan, who jumps at the chance to dress up as Ginger Spice, and with Al, 26, an African American (and heterosexual) fan, who loves Baby Spice more than life itself. Neither of them had ever seen the Spice Girls in concert until now.
Walter hated the Spice Girls at first because a friend at school made him listen to the songs over and over again, but when he convinced his parents to buy him the ‘Spice’ CD, and he listened to the songs on his own, he instantly fell in love with them. “I don't know why I did, or what happened in my head that night, but I've been infatuated ever since,” said Walter.
When he was a sophomore in high school, Al discovered the Spice Girls, “At first, I liked them because I said to myself, ‘Damn, that blonde is kind of hot’, but when I first listened to ‘2 Become 1’, I was already hooked.” Al battled accusations that he was gay in high school from his friends teasing because his love for the Spice Girls was so strong. He would buy countless magazines, cut out their pictures, and put them up in his locker, “So what if I was a jock, I loved them.”
Walter has been a fan for over ten years and was “in complete and total awe” when the concert began and matched my own screams. “I didn’t know where to look! And as the concert went on, I started feeling as if I had a bond with them,” he said, “They really had a way of reaching out to the fans, parading and playing up and down the runway stage.”
When the concert began Al “didn’t know how to feel”, though he sported the biggest grin I’ve ever seen him wear during the entire show. “It was like a fresh surprise, yet instant shock seeing them in person. It was like flashing back 10 years. But soon as I saw my Baby Spice I snapped out of it and began enjoying the show.”
When I was in third grade, I walked into the gymnasium of my grade school, where three of my girlfriends were sitting in a circle, gathered around the ‘Spice’ cassette tape pull-out. “Pick which one you want to be,” one of the girls told me, “But, these three are already taken.” I only had Posh Spice and Scary Spice to choose from without even knowing who or what the Spice Girls were. “I’ll be her,” I pointed to Victoria “Posh” Beckham.
From then on, I was the designated Posh Spice in our group as we made up dances and dressed like them. I cut my blonde hair into a bob and started wearing a lot of black skirts. I convinced my dad to buy me my own copy of the cassette and became completely addicted to the music. Not a day goes by that I don’t listen to them, even now.
“Let’s Make the Headlines…I Want to Tell the World That I’m Givin’ It All to You”
The five girls moved forward hand-in-hand on the stage in their glittering silver outfits. The end of “Headlines”, Walter’s favorite song, slowly segued into “Mama” as they stopped at the edge of the stage, giving each other a long, group embrace. Tears returned to my eyes, threatening to fall, and I finally let them. I turned to Walter, “Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m crying,” I laughed, blinking through the wet blur in my eyes and soon realizing that Victoria Beckham, my favorite Spice Girl, was also crying as they all began to sing.
“You two are the same person,” said Walter with wide eyes, his mouth open in amused surprise. I laughed and wiped my eyes, pulling my phone out to call my mom so she could hear “Mama” performed live. She had taken me to the concert ten years earlier, the only one I thought I would ever go to.
“People of the World, Spice Up Your Life”
Emily Schrynemakers, 19, a Cuban native Spanish speaker from New York City, has loved the Spice Girls, especially Scary Spice, since she was nine years old. She loved the way they dressed and their music was “ridiculously catchy”.
Her attraction to them grew after she heard them singing in Spanish, “It kind of made me see them in a different way, and made me like them even more because they appealed to several aspects of my life, not just as a little preteen,” Schrynemakers said.
When she was younger, Schrynemakers would show off singing the Spanish parts of the songs because none of her native English-speaking friends could. “Growing up in the U.S., you had singers that would sing only in English or only in Spanish,” she said, “Then you had this group that sort of combined the two, which kind of gave me the impression that there were more people like me. That you don’t have to identify with just one culture to have an identity.”
“I want to go to the concert so bad,” Sachiyo Okada, a 22 year old Japanese exchange student, told me, “I’m so jealous!” When Okada, was 14 years old, she started listening to the Spice Girls; “Wannabe” instantly became her favorite song. “
Okada, a Sporty Spice fan, said, “My age knew about Spice Girls, but everyone knew Victoria because of the World Cup,” she paused to stare off dreamily as she thought of David Beckham, an obvious hunk throughout the world, “And when I was in Japan last year, everyone started dressing like Victoria.”
Though Okada or her friends never met the level of obsession as some, she still fondly remembers listening to the songs as a teen and even now, “When I listen to their songs and I’m depressed, I then feel very ‘yay’! I’m really happy then.”
Lillian Sonderegger, 23, grew up in a small village in Freiburg, Switzerland with as many as 20 people in her grade. She discovered them when she was 12 years old, even though they were already popular in her country, “They were a big influence because not much was going on in my hometown,” she said, “And it was good to have a girl group since there were so many boy groups popular.”
When she was in school, she was not one of the more popular girls, so she never showed off her love for the Spice Girls, “The really cool girls in my age were Spice Girl fans and dressed up like them, but I never did.”
Despite not being ‘cool’ enough to like the Spice Girls according to her classmates, she still loved them, even if she couldn’t understand the words they were singing, “It wasn’t about the lyrics. It was about the sound. The sound always translates.”
“Make It Last Forever, Friendship Never Ends”
An extended reprise of “Spice Up Your Life” was the final performance of the night. I screamed until my throat burned. My toes were numb after standing and jumping up and down for two hours in three-inch high heels. “We Moonwalk the Foxtrot,” Victoria Beckham sang her last solo line of the concert and I let out the loudest scream I could muster. After an Irish jig, a Flamenco dance, a conga line with their back-up dancers, and a Hindi-inspired dance with flags of hundreds of countries flashing on the massive video screens, while confetti showered the crowd, the Spice Girls returned to the platforms from which they rose, finishing “Spice Up Your Life” as they lowered back under the stage to thundering, deafening applause.
“Mission Accomplished: Spice,” flashed onto the video screen as the music drowned away and the lights brought the enthralled and suddenly disoriented crowd back to a disappointing reality.
“Baby! Come back!” Al shouted.
“I want to go again,” I pouted.
Seeing the Spice Girls, who we have spent the past ten years obsessing over, live gave the three of us goose bumps and fond memories for life. Walter said, “Because of those two hours, I can safely check off a list of dreams in my life.”
Section 102, Row 6, Seat 19. I sat in between Walter and Al. We gazed at the empty stage, watching the other fans file in around us. We were all here for the same thing. Within a matter of minutes, our idols from our childhood would be in front of us, performing songs we have long since memorized and danced to for over ten years.
“We’re breathing the same air as them right now,” Walter told me with a lopsided grin.
Eight o’clock passed, then eight fifteen, then eight twenty. I felt my insides churning, and I was glad I had only eaten a can of Chef Boyardee ravioli over five hours earlier.
“You guys better get your bail money ready,” Al said with a laugh. He was jokingly planning to get onto the stage to sweep Baby Spice away and knew that any attempt would surely get him arrested.
Suddenly, the lights in the United Center went out. The three of us, at one moment in mid-conversation, sprang up, eyes gleaming at the stage. With both hands, I tightly clutched Walter’s arm, and he squeezed his hands over mine. The opening video showed five young girls playing and soon switched to clips from their old, endearingly familiar music videos. I screamed, mostly just because I could. I watched animated butterflies fly around on the video screens and felt the same things flying around in my stomach. Walter and I started jumping up and down in unison. I felt my eyes burn with tears. I screamed louder. Al shouted, “Baby!” over and over again. Little did I know, the five girls were rising on five separate platforms behind the video screen. Within moments, the video screen lifted and the screams erupted through the stadium.
The Spice Girls were on the stage. They were really there. The five of them, Posh, Ginger, Baby, Sporty, and Scary, were in front of our very eyes in gold, shimmering outfits, performing their hit song from 1997 “Spice Up Your Life”.
I shared this unforgettable night with Walter, 19, a proudly gay fan, who jumps at the chance to dress up as Ginger Spice, and with Al, 26, an African American (and heterosexual) fan, who loves Baby Spice more than life itself. Neither of them had ever seen the Spice Girls in concert until now.
Walter hated the Spice Girls at first because a friend at school made him listen to the songs over and over again, but when he convinced his parents to buy him the ‘Spice’ CD, and he listened to the songs on his own, he instantly fell in love with them. “I don't know why I did, or what happened in my head that night, but I've been infatuated ever since,” said Walter.
When he was a sophomore in high school, Al discovered the Spice Girls, “At first, I liked them because I said to myself, ‘Damn, that blonde is kind of hot’, but when I first listened to ‘2 Become 1’, I was already hooked.” Al battled accusations that he was gay in high school from his friends teasing because his love for the Spice Girls was so strong. He would buy countless magazines, cut out their pictures, and put them up in his locker, “So what if I was a jock, I loved them.”
Walter has been a fan for over ten years and was “in complete and total awe” when the concert began and matched my own screams. “I didn’t know where to look! And as the concert went on, I started feeling as if I had a bond with them,” he said, “They really had a way of reaching out to the fans, parading and playing up and down the runway stage.”
When the concert began Al “didn’t know how to feel”, though he sported the biggest grin I’ve ever seen him wear during the entire show. “It was like a fresh surprise, yet instant shock seeing them in person. It was like flashing back 10 years. But soon as I saw my Baby Spice I snapped out of it and began enjoying the show.”
When I was in third grade, I walked into the gymnasium of my grade school, where three of my girlfriends were sitting in a circle, gathered around the ‘Spice’ cassette tape pull-out. “Pick which one you want to be,” one of the girls told me, “But, these three are already taken.” I only had Posh Spice and Scary Spice to choose from without even knowing who or what the Spice Girls were. “I’ll be her,” I pointed to Victoria “Posh” Beckham.
From then on, I was the designated Posh Spice in our group as we made up dances and dressed like them. I cut my blonde hair into a bob and started wearing a lot of black skirts. I convinced my dad to buy me my own copy of the cassette and became completely addicted to the music. Not a day goes by that I don’t listen to them, even now.
“Let’s Make the Headlines…I Want to Tell the World That I’m Givin’ It All to You”
The five girls moved forward hand-in-hand on the stage in their glittering silver outfits. The end of “Headlines”, Walter’s favorite song, slowly segued into “Mama” as they stopped at the edge of the stage, giving each other a long, group embrace. Tears returned to my eyes, threatening to fall, and I finally let them. I turned to Walter, “Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m crying,” I laughed, blinking through the wet blur in my eyes and soon realizing that Victoria Beckham, my favorite Spice Girl, was also crying as they all began to sing.
“You two are the same person,” said Walter with wide eyes, his mouth open in amused surprise. I laughed and wiped my eyes, pulling my phone out to call my mom so she could hear “Mama” performed live. She had taken me to the concert ten years earlier, the only one I thought I would ever go to.
“People of the World, Spice Up Your Life”
Emily Schrynemakers, 19, a Cuban native Spanish speaker from New York City, has loved the Spice Girls, especially Scary Spice, since she was nine years old. She loved the way they dressed and their music was “ridiculously catchy”.
Her attraction to them grew after she heard them singing in Spanish, “It kind of made me see them in a different way, and made me like them even more because they appealed to several aspects of my life, not just as a little preteen,” Schrynemakers said.
When she was younger, Schrynemakers would show off singing the Spanish parts of the songs because none of her native English-speaking friends could. “Growing up in the U.S., you had singers that would sing only in English or only in Spanish,” she said, “Then you had this group that sort of combined the two, which kind of gave me the impression that there were more people like me. That you don’t have to identify with just one culture to have an identity.”
“I want to go to the concert so bad,” Sachiyo Okada, a 22 year old Japanese exchange student, told me, “I’m so jealous!” When Okada, was 14 years old, she started listening to the Spice Girls; “Wannabe” instantly became her favorite song. “
Okada, a Sporty Spice fan, said, “My age knew about Spice Girls, but everyone knew Victoria because of the World Cup,” she paused to stare off dreamily as she thought of David Beckham, an obvious hunk throughout the world, “And when I was in Japan last year, everyone started dressing like Victoria.”
Though Okada or her friends never met the level of obsession as some, she still fondly remembers listening to the songs as a teen and even now, “When I listen to their songs and I’m depressed, I then feel very ‘yay’! I’m really happy then.”
Lillian Sonderegger, 23, grew up in a small village in Freiburg, Switzerland with as many as 20 people in her grade. She discovered them when she was 12 years old, even though they were already popular in her country, “They were a big influence because not much was going on in my hometown,” she said, “And it was good to have a girl group since there were so many boy groups popular.”
When she was in school, she was not one of the more popular girls, so she never showed off her love for the Spice Girls, “The really cool girls in my age were Spice Girl fans and dressed up like them, but I never did.”
Despite not being ‘cool’ enough to like the Spice Girls according to her classmates, she still loved them, even if she couldn’t understand the words they were singing, “It wasn’t about the lyrics. It was about the sound. The sound always translates.”
“Make It Last Forever, Friendship Never Ends”
An extended reprise of “Spice Up Your Life” was the final performance of the night. I screamed until my throat burned. My toes were numb after standing and jumping up and down for two hours in three-inch high heels. “We Moonwalk the Foxtrot,” Victoria Beckham sang her last solo line of the concert and I let out the loudest scream I could muster. After an Irish jig, a Flamenco dance, a conga line with their back-up dancers, and a Hindi-inspired dance with flags of hundreds of countries flashing on the massive video screens, while confetti showered the crowd, the Spice Girls returned to the platforms from which they rose, finishing “Spice Up Your Life” as they lowered back under the stage to thundering, deafening applause.
“Mission Accomplished: Spice,” flashed onto the video screen as the music drowned away and the lights brought the enthralled and suddenly disoriented crowd back to a disappointing reality.
“Baby! Come back!” Al shouted.
“I want to go again,” I pouted.
Seeing the Spice Girls, who we have spent the past ten years obsessing over, live gave the three of us goose bumps and fond memories for life. Walter said, “Because of those two hours, I can safely check off a list of dreams in my life.”
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