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The Wake, Issue 10, Spring 2017

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fortnightly student magazine

volume 16 — issue 10

native foster crisis

p. 6

Q&A: the lowest pair

p. 16

the self-improvement paradox

p. 9

MY SISTER on women’s day

p. 18

at home with monsters

p. 22

toxic brotherhood

p. 13


VOLUME 16, ISSUE 10 undoing typical gallery cultures

p. 5

native foster crisis

p. 6

the self-improvement paradox

p.9

kids these days love “the bachelor”

p. 10

constitutional crisis

p. 12

toxic brotherhood

p. 13

Q&A: the lowest pair

p. 16

MY SISTER on women’s day

p. 18

“moonlight,” a&e journalism, & film’s future p. 21 at home with monsters

p. 22

3 reviews

p. 23

©2017 The Wake Student Magazine. All Rights Reserved. Established in 2002, The Wake is a fortnightly independent magazine and registered student organization produced by and for students at the University of Minnesota. The Wake was founded by Chrin Ruen & James DeLong. Disclaimer: The purpose of The Wake is to provide a forum in which students can voice their opinions. Opinions expressed in the magazine are not representative of the publication or university as a whole. To join the conversation email avanabbema@wakemag.org.

The Wake Student Magazine 126 Coffman Memorial Union 300 Washington Avenue SE Minneapolis, MN 55455

LETTER FROM THE DIRECTOR We recently celebrated our 15th birthday with a concert at the Triple Rock Social Club. The bands Early Eyes, LASKA, and Stone Arch Isles were amazing, the venue was looking spiffy, and the turn out was four times larger than last year. (A huge thank you to all who went and to our design and PR teams, especially!) That was only a few weeks ago, but it feels like forever, a fleetingness that affects more than our weekend recollections. Our publication has sometimes struggled with timeliness due to its three-week production cycle, which is why we push even harder to find stories that have more to them than a dateline. In this issue, our writers look at how university students are fighting back against rape culture and toxic masculinity, issues that shouldn’t be “evergreen” but are (p. 13). They highlight research looking at the resources and support available for children in light of Minnesota’s disproportional number of Native Americans in foster care (p. 6). They take a walk through Guillermo del Toro’s mind at Mia and see how his monsters uncover humanity (p. 22). Not every piece will speak to huge or controversial topics, and nor should they, but we hope you find that every article speaks to one of the many pieces that make up life’s mosaic. Life, especially in college, is about deadlines, mid-terms, and for many on The Wake staff, that final graduation day where panic really sets in. For now, though, thank you for picking up a copy of The Wake and sharing some of your precious time with us. Lianna Matt Executive Director

www.wakemag.org

EDITORIAL:

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PRODUCTION:

THIS ISSUE:

Editor-in-Chief

Alex Van Abbema

Executive Director

Lianna Matt

Photographers

Managing Editor

Laura Beier

Creative Director

Kate Doyle

Gabby Granada, Isabella Murray, Kate Drakulic

Cities Editor

Erik Newland

Art Director

Taylor Daniels

Voices Editor

Emma Klingler

Designers

Andrew Tomten

Illustrators

Sound & Vision Editors

John Blocher

Kellen Renstrom

Cameron Smith, Esther Yang, Jaye Ahn, Nora Peterson, Ruby Guthrie,

Shawnna Stennes

Olivia Novotny

Stevie Lacher, Taylor Daniels

Online editor

Carson Kaskel

Finance Manager

Chris Bernatz

Copy editor

Alex Wittenberg

Social Media

Holly Wilson

Contributing Writers

Avery Boehm

Web development

Laurel Tieman

Brock Splawski, Carter Blochwitz, Chris Shea, Cody Perakslis,

Faculty Advisor

Chelsea Reynolds

Editorial Interns Carter Blochwitz, Chris Shea, Gabby Granada, Isabella Murray, Jacob Steinberg, Kate Drakulic, Liv Martin, Max Roberts, Sammy Brown, Simon Batisch

Julia Holmes Production Interns Brooke Herbert, Darby Ottoson, Grace Steward, Olivia Rezac, Rakshit Kalra, Sophie Stephens Art & Design Interns Cameron Smith, Katie Heywood, Mariah Crabb, Megan Smith, Sophie Stephens, Stevie Lacher, Xavier Wang

Dylan Kunkel, Gabby Granada, Isabella Murray, Jacob Steinberg, Karl Witkowiak, Kate Drakulic, Liv Martin, Nathan Amundson, Olivia Heusinkveld, Pallavi Janiani, Sam Batistich, Tony Burton


WINK ! ONE-PAGE MAGAZINE

PROMPT: Create an animal that will exist in the distant future.

TIME: 30 minutes O L I V I A N OVOT N Y; 2 GL AS S ES O F B OX WI N E , 3 S H OT S

A ND REW TOMT EN ; 1 G &T, 3 B EE RS

KE LLE N R ENST ROM ; 3 CU P S O F COF F EE

*only those over 21 consumed alchohol

BRE A N N A V I C K; 2 G&T S , 3 S H OT S

AWARDS: Breanna Vick—Most lol; Olivia Novotny—Most poetic; Andrew Tomten—Most topical; Kellen Renstrom—Most prowess. Special thanks to our referees, Katie Ferderer, Alec Lossiah, Erica Von Bank, and Madeline Harpell. P G. 4

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T H E WA K E

CITIES

UNDOING TYPICAL GALLERY CULTURES Northeast art space challenges the norms through inclusiveness and diversity

P H OTO S BY K ATE D R A K U L I C

BY KATE DRAKULIC Sitting just off Broadway Street, in the midst of residential neighborhood, is a small, seemingly disguised warehouse. A modern gallery, Public Functionary hosts many local, controversial, and diverse exhibitions. The gallery’s tucked-away location suggests that it may be a niche secret amongst the Northeast art community, but it in fact has become widely recognized in the art world since its beginning in 2013, and its current exhibition was recently featured in the Huffington Post. With an innovative space, passionate staff, and unrelenting dedication to community engagement, Public Functionary prides itself in challenging typical gallery culture. “I often don’t feel comfortable in art galleries, and I’m an art curator!” said Tricia Heuring, curator and co-

director of Public Functionary. “The fact that it can be so pretentious makes no sense.” Before Public Functionary began, Heuring and current Co-Director Mike Bishop were very active in the Twin Cities art scene. “We would go out to openings and galleries and nothing really felt that energetic or inclusive,” she recalled. “It felt like ‘oh this is for a particular scene.’” The founders wanted to start a space that could reach out to more people, one that would always be dynamic and changing, one that asked what a gallery space could be if it thinks about accessibility and inclusiveness.

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At the core, this is what drives Heuring and her codirectors. “Undoing gallery culture is really hard,” Heuring noted. “Most galleries set up their framework and say ‘this is what we are, let’s go out and see what kind of artists and audiences fit into this,’ and instead we look at it really differently.” For the last five years, Heuring and her co-directors have been exploring what undoing gallery culture really means, strongly inspired by the belief that art should be accessible for everyone. Public Functionary is a very different type of contemporary art space. Designed with an open-air concept in mind, the gallery has previously hosted a wide variety of events and exhibitions. These have included “Claws,” a multi-artist show about obsession and letting go; “Caroline Kent: Joyful is the Dark,” powerful and peaceful works for quiet moments of reflection; “Selected Works,” which highlighted 22 artists and artworks chosen by Heuring herself; and most recently, “Wintertide: A Biennial Juried Exhibition,” which honored the work of artists of the Northeast Minneapolis Arts Association. Public Functionary currently hosts Leslie Barlow’s “Loving.” A local Minneapolis and bi-racial artist, Barlow’s work is a direct response to the lack of representation of interracial families and additionally falls on the 50th anniversary of the Loving v. Virginia Supreme Court Case; a case that invalidated interracial marriage laws after Mildred Loving, a black woman, and Richard Loving, a white man, were sentenced to a year in prison after marrying.

Heuring reflected. “People have been really interested in this subject matter and in mixed-race identities,” she said. Heuring’s curatorial process involves building relationships with the artists that she works with. She makes visits to their studios to better understand the artist and their work, and she considers factors such as the time of year and current events. “I believe a lot of art comes down to energy,” said Heuring. “I try to show artists who really put themselves into their work, who are vulnerable, who are willing to take risks and who I think will connect with people.” Public Functionary’s philosophy is simple. It strives to incorporate diverse perspectives in its exhibits and serve as a safe and equal ground in which these perspectives can be communicated. Heuring and her co-directors encourage work that is vulnerable, risktaking, and which responds to identity and experiences that both challenge and engage the community. “I’m really hoping to continue to show work that is true to artists’ identities and that brings in such a great and diverse mix of people in a contemporary fashion,” said Heuring. Beginning in May, Public Functionary will be involved in pop-ups around the cities, and the next gallery show is anticipated to open in June. More information about Public Functionary can be found on their website, publicfunctionary.org.

“Loving” includes 10 detailed and richly painted portraits of interracial families and couples. Each large-scale piece includes subtle stitches and titles with the subjects’ names, some of whom are posed in original portrait stature and some in casual instances. The paintings capture each person, personality, and relationship as unique, yet as a whole maintain an incredible sense of normalcy. With ongoing racial tensions and lack of interracial representations, Barlow’s work has received more press than Public Functionary usually anticipates,

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THE WAKE

State, University researchers seek solutions to disproportionate foster placements among Native kids BY CARTER BLOCHWITZ

of the things we implemented was the family assessment model that looked at the needs of the family and how those could be addressed by other services.”

Minnesota has put more Native American children in foster care than any other state in the nation. Despite being one of the least-represented minorities in Minnesota, nearly one in every 10 Native children is in the foster system, compared to only one in every 100 white children. One of key individuals who has spearheaded research into this issue is Professor Priscilla Day, director of the Center for Regional and Tribal Child Welfare at the University of Minnesota-Duluth. Day has focused on social work and American Indian families for a great deal of her career, and aside from her role at the University, she also writes and trains for the Minnesota Department of Human Services (DHS).

“We want to ensure each tribe can prioritize their own population and culture when making decisions of child placement,” Koppel said, who hopes the research will be able to propose equally effective practices for social work training and placement policy. “When you place a child, it is not always to their benefit—removing a child from their home is almost always traumatic to the child.”

“It’s complicated,” said Day, who had just returned from a national meeting on American Indian child welfare practices. “Part of the issue is ineffective training and bias of workers, but it’s also how the system is set up to get the results it does Day is currently leading the Native American Equity Pilot Project at the U of M-Duluth, as part of a partnership with the DHS, to look into these concerns. The three-year project, which began in January, has accrued $400,000 of pledged funding by the state and will primarily focus on analyzing Native social work and foster care in St. Louis County, which encompasses large parts of the Bois Forte and Fond du Lac Indian reservations. Together, Day and the DHS hope to create a model that will help better manage the Native foster cases. “I think a very intentional review of what is happening will help us develop effective solutions to American Indian child welfare issues,” she said, “We’ll have to really engage the tribes in a meaningful way. It may even mean making large changes to some policies and practices.” Issues with foster care are not new to the Native American community. Many modern problems with the foster system’s treatment of Natives have their roots in Indian boarding schools of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, which sought to remove Native children from

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their family and alienate them from their culture. This influenced the mentality of social work for decades afterwards. In 1978, the federal Indian Child Welfare Act demanded placement of Native children with relatives or other families within their tribe, creating more opportunities for tribes to be involved in these placements. “The ICWA sought to provide ‘active efforts’ to prevent the unnecessary removal of children,” Day explained. “These efforts go a step beyond ‘reasonable efforts’ and really work to stop removal and to reunite children with their families.” Jim Koppel, head of Children and Family Services for the DHS, spoke a bit more about what these reasonable efforts are historically and in the present. “In 2002, Minnesota had very high numbers of African American children in foster care,” Koppel said. “One

A RT BY TAY LO R DA NI E L S

As reported in an August 2016 report from the National Council for Juvenile and Family Courts, this approach managed to cut African American foster cases in half and was drastically different from the present system that would demand changes in a home and threaten families with the removal of their children if those changes were not met. Unfortunately, the former process still plagues many Native American foster cases.

Although the research is incredibly new, both Koppel and Day expressed their belief that a transition of Native foster cases from county courts to tribal court systems is one of the first steps to reducing high numbers of out-of-home placements. “Our child welfare system is really strained—counties don’t have the resources and tribes have even less,” said Day. “But tribal human service and court systems have a greater knowledge of the kinds of resources available to their people so working hand in hand is important to achieve better outcomes.” Day’s department has already begun to implement research and analysis into the curriculum of students planning to enter careers in Native American child welfare. It has provided scholarships in exchange for tribal work commitments after graduation. “There are a lot of good folks trying to help better understand what is happening,” she said, “and this research will help us find some answers.”

MAR 27–AP R 9


T H E WA K E

CITIES

Stores in Minneapolis, greater Minnesota have mixed reactions to the legislation C A M E R ON S M I TH

BY NATHAN AMUNDSON A ban on Sunday liquor sales is almost as old as the state of Minnesota. Since the end of Prohibition, the state banned liquor stores from operating on Sundays. This ban, meant to preserve the sobriety of the holy day, never included liquor served in bars, and primarily affected rural residents, who came into town on Sundays to go to church. However, effective this July, the ban on Sunday sales will be coming to an end, ensured by a bill recently advanced through the legislature and signed into law by Minnesota Gov. Mark Dayton. The legislation does not require liquor stores to be open on Sundays; it merely provides them the option to remain open. Despite this, family-owned and municipal liquor stores almost universally opposed it across the state, including some around the University of Minnesota community and throughout Minneapolis. This will, however, have less of an impact within the cities than greater Minnesota, where a larger percentage of the liquor stores are either family or municipally owned. One such establishment is Surdyk’s Liquor and Cheese shop, located a few miles down University Avenue from the University. Owner Jim Surdyk made headlines across the metro after opening his store on March 12, a Sunday, well before the ban is to be lifted on July 1, despite not being supportive of or opposed to the repeal. The city gave Surdyk repeated warnings not to open shop on Sunday, and for flouting the ban, the city slapped him with a $2,000 fine and suspended the shop’s liquor license for a month after the first Sunday in July. The surge of business present indicates that the cities at large have been clamoring for an end to this ancient rule. The desire to end the ban on Sunday sales is not restricted to the city at large or even the local student body. Many out-of-state students are baffled to find stores closed when they first attempt to purchase liquor on Sunday. Others are confused by the low-percentage beer, a maximum of 3.2 percent alcohol by volume by law, sold in grocery stores in the state. Out-of-state students have been some of the staunchest supporters of the repeal, especially those from neighboring Wisconsin, which has nearly nonexistent restrictions on

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the sale of alcohol, meaning hard liquor is often sold at gas stations, convenience stores, and grocery stores. This contrasts strongly with Minnesota’s Sunday sales ban and restrictions on point of sale. In Wisconsin, a retail liquor license allows sale of everything from weak beer to the strongest grain alcohol. “This legislation is long overdue; it will give small businesses a chance to compete with large organizations. This will bring business and jobs back to Minnesota liquor stores on one of the highest liquor selling days of the week,” said John Mickley, native Minnesotan and senior at the University. Mickley’s sentiment was typical of students, strongly in favor of repealing the ban and optimistic about its effects. The sentiment among liquor store employees, in contrast to their more vocal owners, seems to be one of accommodation and adaptation rather than support or opposition. Businesses respond to consumer pressure and the legal environment, both of which now unequivocally favor Sunday sales. Despite this, however, the city of Minneapolis has not yet repealed its own Sunday sales ban, an ordinance not tied to the state-level ban. If the ordinance is not repealed before July 2, liquor stores within the city limits will be unable to open on Sundays, even as state law permits it. If stores choose to do so in defiance of the ordinance, they will likely face consequences comparable to those faced by Surdyk’s for their acts of defiance. The Minnesota liquor market is constrained by regulations controlling the time and manner a liquor store may be open. These layers of regulation, propagated by state, county, and municipal laws, make it difficult for business owners across the state to plan for the possibility of Sunday sales. While several municipal liquor stores have expressed that they will continue to close on Sundays even after the end of the ban, liquor stores in the city of Minneapolis face less certainty. With a municipal ban on Sunday sales that has yet to be repealed and the clear example made by Surdyk’s, business owners around the University must continue to watch the winds of change, lest they be blown away by them.

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THE WAKE

BETTER FOOD BY 2020? University Senate’s condemnation latest in a history of problems with Aramark

BY BROCK SPLAWSKI Out of the many reasons to come to the University of Minnesota, food is not usually at the top of the list for students. Earlier this month, both the University Senate and University Student Senate have passed a resolution condemning Aramark and threatening to not renew its contract in 2020 if the company doesn’t respond in some manner by the start of 2018, according to the Minnesota Daily.

The resolution also called for more student representation in Aramark’s decisions with the University and asked that similar bodies, including the Minnesota Student Association (MSA) and Council of Graduate Students (COGS), pass similar resolutions. An advisory panel will also be created to vet dining service procedures more thoroughly, according to the resolution. A survey conducted in March by MSA revealed that over half of respondents dubbed their experience with dining hall food as of “not high enough quality.” At a required starting meal plan rate of over $1,800 a semester, it is not difficult to understand why students might be upset at mediocre food. A difficult issue lies underneath, however. The University renewed its contract with international food provider Aramark in 2008 despite concerns ranging from poor food quality to ethical violations against its employees.

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The University had a self-operated dining service prior to signing with Aramark, but it proved to be a financial pitfall, and, if re-implemented, it could raise the already expensive meal plan prices students currently oppose. Question marks about Aramark’s service have been longstanding, and the Minnesota Daily and others have done multiple investigations into Aramark’s practices at the University. An investigation in 2005 by the Daily revealed, among other things, possible mob connections tied to the company. Another Daily investigation in 2008 found malpractice between Aramark and its employees, including a paycheck manipulation practice known as “time-shaving,” hostile work environments, and a high turnover rate.

The Senate bodies cited problems such as poor food quality, high cost of meal plans, and mistreatment of employees as part of the reasoning for its resolution.

Likewise, the resolution for 2017 is similar in its language. Similar complaints were made, including expensive meal plans, substandard quality of food, and staff mistreatment. Unlike the first resolution, however, this poses a threat to Aramark in the form of major ramifications should the company not respond adequately, including the loss of a $50,000 bonus allocated to the company for meeting its benchmarks set by the University.

supplied food to, according to the Center for Media and Democracy. The Compass Group, meanwhile, has been involved in fraud accusations by its subsidiaries and underpaying employees.

A RT BY STE V I E L AC H E R

The resolution was the culmination of an investigation done by the Student Senate Consultative Committee (SSCC) in the fall of 2016. The investigation found that the University had identified problems with Aramark as early as 1999 and that many of those problems have yet to be solved.

Aramark has faced scrutiny elsewhere in recent years. The state of Michigan ended its contract with the food provider in 2015 after a litany of problems while providing food for the state prison system, including maggot infestations, staff misconduct, and meal shortages. Similar concerns have been raised in other areas of the country where Aramark provides food, including Philadelphia, where a racial discrimination lawsuit was filed against the company in 2000, and in Danville, Kentucky, where poor food allegedly caused a prison riot in 2009.

Regardless, there are some who are confident that Aramark will be able to respond positively to the resolution, including University President Eric Kaler.

Other companies that have the manpower to keep up with the needs of students come with ethical problems that are just as large as those of Aramark. Sodexo, for instance, has been embroiled in multiple scandals over the past decade, including reaching a $20 million settlement with the state of New York in 2010 for overcharging school districts that it had

“Their contract is coming up in the not-too-distant future,” Kaler said in a recent interview with the Daily. “I expect them to be able to respond to our concerns.” Aramark has also responded to the resolution, saying that it is constantly polling campuses on how to improve, and that the ethical concerns raised are nothing more than a “smear campaign” against the company, according to spokesperson Karen Cutler.

MAR 27–AP R 9


T H E WA K E

VOICES

Can you improve yourself without feeling like you always need improvement?

If aliens were to land in America, all they would have to do is open a magazine, listen to a podcast, or browse a bookstore before scribbling “obsessed with self-improvement” on their list of Earthling characteristics. From diets and exercise programs to self-help books and career/ spiritual/financial/social/animal councilors, there is always an abundance of resources available for anyone looking to become a better person. The most common critique of these messages is they force us to always find something wrong with ourselves, creating obsessions with unattainable perfection. Maybe too much self-improvement can be dangerous, but a healthy amount of the stuff is also necessary to grow as a person. After all, nobody’s perfect, and sometimes it is necessary to take a long look in the mirror, take responsibility for our more jagged edges, and promise ourselves, our friends, our family, and our world to do better next time. Recently, I started going to therapy. It took many years to work up the courage, but in the spirit of finding ways to improve my life, I scheduled my first appointment. I started by telling my therapist about my tendency to pull away from people, and my ever-present fear of rejection. Immediately following the first appointment, I felt on top of the world. After an hour-long conversation, I walked out with a mental list of all the things I was going to do differently to become a happier, healthier person and a better friend.

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Despite my initial rush of excitement, the week following my appointment was miserable. With everything I did, all I thought about was whether I was being a good friend or making progress toward being “better,” whatever that meant. I told my friends how I was bad at talking about my feelings, and how I had a tendency to pull-in instead of reach out, listing them like items on a grocery list. Initially, I thought naming and claiming my flaws would more easily lead me down the road to happiness. Instead, I convinced myself I had wasted years being a failure of a person, causing my own sadness. I convinced myself the entire world knew I was awful all this time, but never bothered to shake me out of it. Needless to say, when the therapist asked me how I was doing at our next session, I said, “Rough.” After explaining the downward spiral I had found myself in, my therapist paused and said: “You seem to be very judgmental of your feelings.” Just as I was adding, “Stop being judgmental of my feelings” to my mental list of self-improvement, my therapist continued: “Maybe the changes you are making aren’t good, they aren’t bad, they are just different.” Cue a domino effect of explosions in my head ending with an epiphany symphony. Ding ding ding! Perhaps selfimprovement isn’t trying to find all the ways I am doing things wrong, but about experimenting with different ways of doing things. Choosing to exercise more, or reach out to friends more, or write more doesn’t inherently mean

Maybe what we really need when it comes to self-improvement is a frameshift, where each iteration of ourselves is valued in and of itself, because simply living is valuable. If I spend a few years pushing people away in a misadvised move toward self-preservation, that is nothing more than one iteration of myself through an entire lifetime of change. Even as I work to let more people in, I’m not necessarily a better version of myself, just a different one. Ultimately, I will probably prefer the outcomes of letting people closer to me, but that doesn’t make either of these versions of myself wholly good or wholly bad. They just make them different.

JAY E AH N

BY OLIVIA HEUSINKVELD

the way you were doing things before made you a failure or bad in any way, it just means you are doing things differently now. Yes, some ways of doing things have outcomes that are perhaps less desirable than others, which is probably why it is so hard to not feel like a bad person when you are trying to make changes for the better. Ultimately, the danger in viewing changes as improvements is you’ll probably find yourself on a slippery slope toward a constant loop of, “I could do better and therefore I’m a bad person.”

At the end of the day, life is just a series of choices, so it would be a waste not to choose something different every once in a while, but we don’t need to beat ourselves up for making a less-than-perfect choice. So let’s just shake things up whenever we feel like it, staying mindful of the outcomes and making choices accordingly. After all, life is all trial and error, so let’s just do our best and forgive ourselves for the rest.

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VO IC ES

THE WAKE

RU BY GU T H RI E

Kids These Days Love “The Bachelor” The younger generation finds novelty in the overly dramatic romance scenario BY LIV MARTIN “The Bachelor” is a genuine phenomenon on television. The reality show, which just wrapped up its 21st season, has bounced back after a period of lower viewership. And, believe it or not, this is in part due to an upswing in the number of younger viewers. One of these younger viewers happens to be my kid sister, Sabine. She is 15 years old, a freshman in high school, and was addicted to the latest season of The Bachelor. Sabine told me that she started watching the show last year after she saw previews about it on TV. “People were talking about it all the time at school,” she said. The premise of the show goes as such: One bachelor searches for true love among a sea of beautiful women, all vying for his attention. The goal of the show is to be the woman that the bachelor proposes to. However, the engagements rarely last in real life. Only a few couples over the course of 21 seasons are currently married. Instead of finding true love, the larger goal seems to be how contestants can transfer their appearance on the show into social media fame. At her junior high school, The Bachelor generated a lot of buzz. People chose their favorite contenders early on, and defended them until they were inevitably booted off the show. Her classmates’ loyalties to the female contenders were fierce, and created heated conversations during lunchtime.

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“This season, there was a contestant named Corinne and she did the most ridiculous things to get the bachelor’s attention, so everyone in my school was talking about her. And it was kind of like a battle against the people who liked her and the people who didn’t like her,” Sabine said. “The Bachelor is definitely the show that is talked about the most.” Sabine was talking about Corinne Olympios, the female contestant who became the impromptu star of this past season. Corinne has long blonde hair, a golden tan, and is conventionally pretty. But what really caught audiences’ attention was her ability to constantly steal scenes on the show. She was the first to make a move on bachelor Nick Viall, shocking viewers when it was revealed she had her own nanny, and coined the now-iconic phrase: “My heart is gold, but my vagine is platinum.” Basically, she blew up the internet. Memes and gifs were swiftly created to showcase her best moments, Twitter hashtags nodding to Corinne like #TeamCorn and #PlatinumVagine trended, troves of quippy articles appeared on Buzzfeed—including one called ‘Who Said It: Donald Trump Or Corinne From The Bachelor’—and she accumulated 690,000 followers on Instagram. Overnight, contestants like Corinne who appear on the Bachelor can become social media stars and de facto celebrities. The Bachelor himself, Nick Viall, has 1.2 million followers on Instagram and 262K on Twitter.

“Oh yeah, I’ve definitely creeped on the bachelor and the women on the show on Insta,” Sabine said. And surely, many others have too. The show’s success with younger viewers could be because of its presence on social media. While the show was running, Sabine would sometimes share re-cap videos through Snapchat with me. Simply called ‘Watch Party: The Bachelor,’ the videos are a collaboration between the ABC network and Snapchat that were featured on the app’s Explore tab. ‘Watch Party’ intertwines clips from the show with Buzzfeedvideo-esque commentary by a few quirky young women and a very hilarious gay man. It’s curious that young people have become hooked on The Bachelor because the old-fashioned values presented on the show do not represent the ways millennials are finding love today. Yet, maybe this is why we find it so enjoyable to watch. In Sabine’s words: “I watch The Bachelor because it’s… I don’t know how to explain it. Everything is so overdone and so played up. I don’t think it’s anything like how it actually is to fall in love. I just think it’s fun to see the drama created by all of the characters… or contestants.” In the era of online dating, Tinder, and Snapchat, it makes sense that a younger generation would be fascinated with a dramatic portrayal of love, no matter how inauthentic and commercialized it actually is.

MAR 27–AP R 9


VOICES

any Flavor s M of

Th e

T H E WA K E

When meaning blurs, impact dulls

ART BY TAY LO R DAN I E L S

BY CODY PERAKSLIS Love it or hate it, feminism appears in much of mainstream commentary today, and it is generally guaranteed to create conflict at mere mention. Unfortunately, much of the conflict results from confusion over its definition. The main issue with the feminist movement is that no one knows exactly what it is, often not even feminists. It seems like a small thing, but as feminist ideals often dictate, words matter. Heavy feminism resistance demonstrates the dangers of broad language. If asked to define feminism, many would say equality for women and men, or equality for all genders. Equality may be a driving force for almost all brands of feminism, but generally, feminism is not about equality alone, but egalitarianism or humanism. Some claim feminism to be an active extension of egalitarianism and humanism, the mechanism of achieving those ideals in the realm of gender and branching from there to other social issues. Feminism as a methodology, the feminism generally discussed in the mainstream, explains why there are so many different variations of feminism that are often in conflict.

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FEM NISM Feminism comes in four major branches: Liberal Feminism, Radical Feminism, Cultural Feminism, and Marxist and Socialist Feminism. Liberal Feminism pushes for equality through political reform and supports the achievements of women to protect that equality. Radical Feminism demands the alteration of current society, which is seen as a male-favoring authority that can only result in oppression. Cultural feminism creates female-minded institutions following the thought that women and men are different. It also says a female perspective is needed to balance the male perspective and can be superior to the male perspective. Marxist and Socialist Feminism blames capitalistic exploitation for the oppression of women, and it calls for a society based on Marxism. This is just the beginning. Other subforms of feminism include: Anarcha-Feminism, Black Feminism, Postcolonial Feminism, Multiracial Feminism, Libertarian Feminism, Standpoint Feminism, Postmodern Feminism, Ecofeminism. These are just some of the recognized forms of feminism. Each version defines, explains, and tries to solve gender equality in a different, often conflicting, manner. Divides regarding fundamental issues reveal the incongruences of many practices of feminism. Some believe stay-at-home women betray their sex, others find the act to be a brave stand for women’s freedom of choice. Some stances are anti-pornography, while others are sex-positive. Some believe there are differences between genders, while others do not. Some wish to create a new socio-economic system, while others push reform within the current system. For most feminist opinions there exists a feminist counter-opinion, which is why a workable definition for the feminist movement does not exist. How is it possible to truly support or refute a movement that regularly refutes itself? The disillusionment with feminism that many face often results from its inconsistencies, but this is not the fault of any single flavor of feminism. The problem comes when all flavors of feminism are mixed together—whichever flavor you may like, the mix can leave a bad taste.

“For most feminist opinions there exists a feminist counter-opinion, which is why a workable definition for the feminist movement does not exist.”

In order to unify the movement, feminist activists ought to stop referring to themselves as simply feminists. A feminist is not a feminist, but a certain brand of feminist. I understand the complications that could result from this. Many believe tenets of different types, and want the freedom to easily adjust their opinions. Many do not know the different types well enough to know where they fit. Many hold the entire system of labeling in contempt, or believe that such an introduction would seem arrogant. Despite these issues, I believe this would be the most effective way to make the world aware of the different forms of feminism and broaden support for the movement as a whole. The greatest concern would be that by emphasizing the diversity of different feminists, feminism would become more divided. I counter that feminists are already divided, and differences could be better addressed if brought out from behind the shield of general feminism. Feminism is a powerful force that has gained some negative connotations from its self-dissent. The best way for feminism as a whole to broaden and strengthen support would be to spread awareness of all the different flavors of feminism.

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VO IC ES

THE WAKE

CONSTITUTIONAL CRISIS What is it? Are we in one? Let’s find out

BY CHRIS SHEA We’re just a few months into Donald Trump’s presidency and many in the media and American public have been comparing the current administration’s rocky start to the fraught final months that ended with Richard Nixon’s resignation in 1974. Since taking office, Trump fired and replaced an acting attorney general, bashed a U.S. district judge’s decision to temporarily halt his “travel ban,” and has seen the resignation of a national security adviser over ties to Russia. Because of this, many have speculated whether or not the U.S. is moving toward a “constitutional crisis” in the coming months or years. So what exactly is a constitutional crisis? A constitutional crisis would be when one branch of government is not acting constitutionally and no checks seem to be operating on that branch. Political and legal observers typically divide constitutional crises into four categories.

TAY LO R DAN IELS

The first type of crisis is one where the Constitution does not say what to do. In this case, informal precedents and practices have filled in the gaps of the Constitution’s vague language. This kind of crisis can happen with a president’s power during a time of war or emergency. The constitution does not specify what powers a president has during these times. One instance is when President Harry Truman attempted to seize steel mills during the Korean War to prevent a strike that would interrupt steel production. The seizure angered steel companies, which claimed that the seizure was illegal, something the Supreme Court agreed with. Trump has talked a lot about terrorism. If a terrorist attack were to happen during his presidency, he could enact policies that would lead Congress and the Supreme Court to challenge his decisions. That would result in a constitutional crisis. The second type of crisis is when the Constitution’s meaning is in question. In this crisis, a situation could arise where the Constitution allows for multiple interpretations, making it very difficult to address a pressing problem. The best example of this type of crisis is the Civil War, when the nation fought over unsettled constitutional questions about slavery and the government’s right to control it, as the

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Constitution was rather silent on this subject. To solve this question, it took a war. Another example of this would be executive overreach, such as when Andrew Jackson tried to take down the Second Bank of the United States. It’s hard to think of a scenario for how this could happen during a Trump presidency because of how short a time he has been in office. The main controversies circling his administration are about the substance of his actions, not executive overreach. If executive overreach were to happen, then a constitutional crisis would arise, but that could easily be solved by impeachment. Unless, of course, the president was to refuse to leave office. The third type of crisis is when the constitution does say what to do, but it is not politically feasible. Normally this happens when elections produce contested or confusing results. The most recent example of this would be the aftermath of the presidential election in 2000 between George W. Bush and Al Gore. The election was ultimately decided by a few hundred votes in Florida, and it was contested for weeks because of recounts and various other irregularities. This resulted in the Supreme Court stepping in and cutting the recount short, ending the long dispute in Bush’s favor. This kind of crisis is very much out of the question, at least until 2020. The fourth and final type of crisis is when political institutions themselves fail. The greatest purpose of the Constitution is to create a system of checks and balances that prevents tyranny from arising. If this system were to fail, then the U.S. would definitely be in a constitutional crisis. This type is the most probable under the Trump administration if the president continues down the path of straining democratic norms and pushing political boundaries by ignoring the other branches. However, this is not the same as the president tweeting in all caps “SEE YOU IN COURT.” So are we entering a constitutional crisis? Well, no. While what is happening under the current administration can be seen as a crisis, it is a political one, not a constitutional one. Genuine constitutional crises are rare, as the Constitution is very much designed to prevent one branch or individual from wielding absolute power by creating a system of checks and balances between the branches. Serious crises emerge when the institutions of government are rendered ineffective, and usually this happens because of partisan gridlock more than the institutions themselves.

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T H E WA K E

FEATUR E

TOXIC BROTHER HOOD U of M Students are breaking the silence on campus rape culture, starting with fraternity life STORY AND PHOTOS BY GABBY GRANADA

M A R 27–A P R 9

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F E AT URE

THE WAKE

n an uncharacteristically beautiful Saturday afternoon in early March, a thick silence hung on University Avenue, a street more infamously known as Frat Row. The street’s usual weekend scene—a plethora of people on fraternity front porches, blaring music, and the occasional inflatable pool—was notably absent, though the eerie quiet didn’t last long. Soon, chanting protesters, commanding signs, and a mess of cameras and press lined the sidewalks. A crowd of a couple hundred students, advocates, and Minneapolis community members held large, painted signs, reading, “Hold your brothers accountable,” “Commit to the values behind your letters,” and “Our bodies aren’t included in your fraternity dues.”

“I WANT TO MAKE A PUBLIC STATEMENT AND SHIFT OUR SOCIAL UNDERSTANDING OF WHAT SEXUAL VIOLENCE IS AND HOW IT HAPPENS”

Behind partially closed blinds, clusters of eyes peered out from fraternity house windows to watch the protesters march by. A few bolder, or perhaps oblivious members, lounged outside on their porches with beer in hand, entirely unaffected. Some groups of fraternity members joined the march in solidarity with survivors. Most, however, were noticeably nowhere in sight. “Standing with Survivors: A March on Frat Row” started as a small Facebook event and quickly grew into a campus movement, making headlines across the Twin Cities. “I started Break the Silence in the wake of my own rape two years ago,” said march organizer Sarah Super. “I want to make a public statement and shift our social understanding of what sexual violence is and how it happens and where it happens and who commits these crimes. This [march] is just one piece in that direction.” At the march, I talked with some fraternity members that came to show their solidarity, though “talk” is a generous term. Our conversation lasted no more than two minutes. The group of fraternity members I approached was closed off in a circle, talking amongst themselves amidst a crowd of protesters. I asked what compelled them to come out to the march, and we shared a deeply uncomfortable, sustained silence. Finally, one of them caved and stumbled over an explanation that they “couldn’t really talk,” and I’d have to “contact their national organization” for an official response. Though I anticipated a rehearsed dodge to that question, I still found myself taken aback at their response—or lack thereof. I hadn’t realized joining a brotherhood meant giving up your individual voice as well.

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Their fear of confrontational discussion, though deeply problematic, is somewhat understandable. At the march, Dawson Kimyon, a former Delta Upsilon member who exposed his fraternity’s sexual assault scandals, spoke openly about the moral crossroads at which he found himself during his time as a fraternity member. “We had this fear that if the truth were to get out, we’d all be cast as perpetrators even if we were the ones coming forward and exposing it. That’s a backwards mentality, but that’s also the mentality we were up against.” Fraternities are under the microscope of an entire nation right now. Any public misstep has the power to further taint their public images. The solution: Forward all inquiries on the topic of sexual assault to the top. Let the national organizations formulate a response for the sum of the whole. This presents a deeply ironic problem within itself: If every fraternity member is so worried about what they can or cannot say on the topic of sexual assault that they won’t speak on it at all, how can we begin to engage in authentic conversation? How can we bridge this growing disparity of common ground? At the foundation of any true systemic change is transparency and open conversation, both of which are still alarmingly absent within the Interfraternity Council. A fundamental key to understanding rape culture on college campuses is the understanding that fraternities aren’t the source of normalized sexual violence, rather they perpetuate it—an act far more insidious. At the root of rape culture is toxic masculinity. The two work in tandem, and unfortunately, they’re prevalent in society well after you receive your diploma and well outside of universities. Toxic masculinity is the product of socially constructed gender roles that enforce the idea that men should be strong, assertive, unemotional, and sexually aggressive. That dangerously rigid mentality festers in every group collective where hyper-masculinity is lauded: Greek fraternities, male athletic teams, even our nation’s military. I rushed at the beginning of my freshman year, and what ultimately deterred me from Greek life wasn’t the girls I met during the experience, but the fraternity members. One instance from that grueling, weeklong recruitment process still sears in the forefront of my memory: the image of a string of fraternity members lounging in beach chairs on their house’s front lawn. They yelled out “6! … 9.5! … 3!” at girls rushing to and from sorority houses. The group, shielded behind sunglasses, baseball caps, and the unspoken power of the letters across their chests, numerically objectified girls passing by as if it were commonplace, and with no one holding them accountable, perhaps it was.

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T H E WA K E

FEATUR E

After the march, I posted a video of protesters chanting, “Rape culture’s gotta go!” on my Instagram account. One particular follower—a current fraternity member at his respective college—commented, “How is protesting rape culture going to fix anything?” It’s an excellent question. Obviously, a march alone is not going to dismantle an ideal or “fix” an entire problematic culture. The purpose of the march was to stand in solidarity with the survivors and break the suffocating silence on frat row, refusing to let this issue subside. The Instagram inquiry is further proof that despite the march on frat row being specific to the University of Minnesota, this issue spans much broader than our Twin Cities campus. It’s a national issue that stems from an organizational presence on nearly all college campuses, many of which are still refusing to acknowledge it’s here or even worse — actively silencing the issue. “When you’re faced with the criminal justice system or just trying to get justice within your university and you’ve got the courage to come forward, yet you’re still not given that justice, it’s disheartening and contributes enormously to rape culture as a whole,” Deneen Hanzlik, a student, survivor, and Aurora Center advocate at the march said. There’s a tendency to assume that if the press is continuously breaking news on the multitude of sexual assault cases involving fraternities and the university administration is engaging in more conversation on campus rape culture more than ever before, the problem must be subsiding, right? That assumption, though comforting, is terribly misguided and further hinders progress toward true systemic change within the Greek community. Organizations like The Aurora Center and The Minnesota Daily have been tirelessly and unabashedly working toward creating a campus that holds the Greek community accountable. Ultimately, however, the main inciting force of campus change relies on the voices of students who see a Greek system on their campus in desperate need of social reform and want to do something about it. In an op-ed published in The Minnesota Daily titled, “It’s Time To Dismantle Greek Life at UMN,” students Cameron Gray and Drew Honson penned their frustrations with fraternity life. “Remember, greek life is only 11 percent of the student population and is responsible for a disproportionate number of reported sexual assaults on campus.” They call for a more radical approach: dismantle Greek life entirely. “If you are greek, you are responsible for furthering the toxic ideologies and unapologetic criminality of the greek system.”

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The recent flood of sexual assault scandals on frat row has also incited the formation of another anti-fraternity collective. The intriguing aspect of this organization is its location: it’s based out of the student cooperative house, which sits on University Avenue in the heart of frat row, elbow to elbow with the very catalysts of its mission. In spite of the group’s name being a mouthful— the Fraternity Row Allied Cooperative Against Sexual Violence—its mission is short. “We want to end sexual violence and fraternities are the first target,” the group bluntly said. Now, nearly a month after the march, its front lawn is still covered in signs, demanding justice from the surrounding fraternities despite multiple requests to take them down. A crucial key in dismantling campus rape culture, especially within Greek life, is accountability from within. One of the draws of Greek life is that it emulates a “home away from home” or a family. While a familial culture can be beneficial, it’s also instinctively protective, and sometimes, for the wrong reasons. Unwavering loyalty doesn’t always come with a moral compass. Yes, not all Greek members are perpetrators—in fact, many aren’t—but that doesn’t excuse an entire campus culture. If you are a part of a community that is continuously under siege for sexual assault, having the courage to recognize that is far more important than arguing on behalf of exceptions to the rule. The U of M’s Greek community needs to put time and effort into serious and long-needed introspective work if they want to truly change.

APRIL IS SEXUAL ASSAULT AWARENESS MONTH. Advocacy and educational events will be hosted around campus in support of survivors as well as fundraising efforts for The Aurora Center. Details regarding all events can be found on Facebook. You can donate to The Aurora Center through the month of April at z.umn.edu/FundAurora.

“We’re going to need true allies on the inside because you guys have the privilege to demand that change from the inside out,” Dawson Kimyon said, evoking a thunderous applause from the marchers. His former fraternity, Delta Upsilon, now suspended for multiple sexual assault charges, taped a small sign on its house’s bay window to express its solidarity with the marchers. It read, “We must do better. We can do better. We will do better.” “We’ll all have to get over the ego of our images in order to pursue what’s right,” Kimyon added. Less than 20 minutes after the march’s end, I passed Delta Upsilon once more on my walk home. Its blinds were now drawn back and its sign in solidarity with the marchers was nowhere in sight. Frat row soon roared back to life—another normal Saturday afternoon.

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THE WAKE

Q & A

The As self-professed John Hartford disciples, The Lowest Pair spoke with The Wake about their steadfast commitment to weirdness and contempt for clichés BY JACOB STEINBERG A neon sign with the venue’s namesake reflected on the stage’s glossy leather-black piano. The groomed wait staff of the Dakota Jazz Club scurried from table to table, ferrying drinks with names like “Vieux Carré” and “Ave Maria,” and dishes garnished with agnolotti, cornichon, and porcini. The club exuded an attitude of sleekness and refined taste afforded only to those who appreciate jazz and weren’t afraid of a steep tab. It was ironic, and a little comical, that in a place as highbrow as this, the night’s headliner was a bluegrass banjo duo whose discography includes an album titled “I Reckon I’m Fixin’ on Kickin’ Round to Pick a Little.” When they took the stage, The Lowest Pair maintained the highest standards of folksy Americana; Arkansas-born, Southern belle Kendl Winter stood opposite Twin Cities-native Palmer T. Lee, who looked like your cousin whose Facebook profile picture is a pickup truck. After an intimate performance interlaced with colorful asides about oiled boots and fixing roofs, The Wake got a chance to sit down with The Lowest Pair to talk about being an indie folk band, avoiding clichés, and getting weird. P G. 1 6

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T H E WA K E

Q & A

The Wake: How’d you guys come up with the name “The Lowest Pair”?

:: What’s the hardest part of being an indie folk band?

Palmer T. Lee: It’s a John Hartford poem, are you familiar with John Hartford?

PL: Rent. KW: Just the idea that anything’s cliché. Just the idea of clichés, like the piece that you need that label to be who you are, doing what you’re doing. You do, like people need a way to understand it, there’s categories but like, it’s just music. It’s useful to have a genre associated, but it’s also limiting because like some people hate banjo and then they’ll never listen because they hate banjo.

:: Not intimately. Kendl Winter: Get intimate with John Hartford. PL: He is such a weirdo; banjo-player, fiddle-player, dancer, children’s book author.

PL: What term did you use? Indie folk?

KW: He’s a full-spectrum weirdo which is kind of the best kind. Beautiful banjo-player, beautiful fiddleplayer, and his lyrics run the gamut from hilarious to ridiculous.

:: Yeah. Is that what you’d refer to yourself as?

PL: Two primarily banjo-playing songwriters collaborating on a record is kind how it started, and at one point we were like, “Well, l guess we should probably just come up with a band name.”

PL: Well I was just thinking that maybe indie folk is exactly—like maybe the answer is fucking nothing at all. Like maybe that’s the place to be because it’s independent, not tied down. That’s kind of the indie part of it, you know, we get to do whatever the fuck we want, and it’s folk music because we’re just folks making music. And it’s accepted as that because we don’t play Strats you know? Bob Dylan made “Highway 61,” that was still fucking folk music. It’s just folks making music.

P HOTO S C O U RT ESY O F T H E LOWEST PAI R

:: You two are billed as a banjo duo. How did the banjo become so central to your music? KW: I heard one of the Béla Fleck albums when I was babysitting when I was 18 or 19 years old. Their parents had it and I put it on and we danced around the room. And it was the first time I realized how great it could be. And then I got one, but I kind of just had it in my closet for a while. I met a couple other girls in Olympia that played music, and we were like “let’s start a band,” and I was like “well I have this banjo, I can be the banjo player.” And then it’s like chicken or the egg at that point. PL: I got into the banjo through the backdoor, I guess. I kind of got into old-time folk music through a childhood friend of mine. My family kind of got turned on to that and realized that I was writing songs, so they gifted me a couple of banjos. I think one was my mom’s-dad’s- brother’s-wife’s banjo. I grew up playing hockey and wanted to play goalie, and I’ve always just kind of existed that sort of way, you know? Like I wanted to play music, but everyone learns how to play guitar, I want to play the banjo. Sounds more interesting to me.

::You just released two albums. Why the double release? PL: I think that a double album is a hard piece to digest. I think that two separate albums allow the listener to go on two separate journeys without needing them to be linked to each other or seek some sort of continuation, or some sort of story that starts on one record and ends on the other record. It’s a lot; I think it asks a lot of people. We sort of wanted to start exploring different directions that we could go, so it was kind of perfect for that, where one could theoretically be more paired down and simpler like a lot of our previous records have been, and then the other we could kind of like have drums and bass and wine glasses and kids’ toys and weird shit like that. KW: It wasn’t so much like “we need to make two records,” it was more like “we have all these songs.” Even right now, we haven’t made a record in a bit, and I’m sitting on all these songs. I don’t think I’ve ever

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KW It’s all folk music. PL: So, indie folk? Hardest part about that is fucking nothing. The majority of American music is indie folk. KW: It’s a fascinating thing like, now there’s a word, now there’s a sound, now you fit in a container and need to be that because we need you to fit somewhere because we don’t know how to organize you otherwise. That’s weird. We’re always looking at what we are experiencing now relative to other things.

been strategic about a record as much as I’ve been like, “I’ve got some songs; I’m going to record them.” Ultimately as a performer, I want to be playing the things that I wrote last week. That’s the most relevant to where I’m at today.

:: Kendl, you’re from Arkansas, and Palmer you’re

from here. How have your roots influenced your sound?

PL: Like you try to describe your favorite record and you’re like “okay, well the songs are great and the vocals are awesome and the production is totally on point.” But that’s all just talking about, like, the bricks and mortar shit. There’s no way to describe art unless you compare it to other things. KW: Describing music is like dancing to architecture. Sometimes even when we’re practicing, we’ll talk about a song, but we’re just like, “Man, what is that point? Let’s just play it. We’ll feel it out.” PL: So, I guess that the hardest part of being in an indie folk band would be trying to talk about whatever the fuck that means.

KW: I listened to a lot of punk rock when I lived in Arkansas, but I think that did totally shape my sound. There’s just that like whatever you got, make it happen, whatever you can get access to, however people will listen to it. Make art, don’t just wait for it to happen, just make it. I think that’s kind of my sound.

:: Do you have any advice for the music students that might read this interview?

PL: I mean I was kind of a classic rock kid with my brother, but that doesn’t really have anything to do with the region. I was kind of into what Bob Dylan was doing before I realized that he had spent time on the West Bank. I think the closest thing to that answer would be feeling empowered by the strength of the music scene of the region. Basically, from like Fargo to Milwaukee, the general music scene was happening in this area. It’s just inspiring and so community-oriented, you can do kind of anything and there’s going to be people that are going to be playing your shit, if you’re like a cool dude doing whatever cool dudes do.

PL: I think if you hate it that’s the best time to get weird.

KW: Do it because you love it and keep doing it—I mean that’s like cliché as shit. Love it and get weird. Even when you hate it just keep doing it, that’s a part of it. KW: Yeah it’s like you play stuff, you hate it, and then you have these breakthroughs, but you would never get there without playing when you hate it. You have to go on the full journey—not that I’ve arrived at all. PL: Running scales and running drills can be so tedious and obnoxious, sometimes you just get caught up in cycles and you’re just like, “Why am I doing this? This is all just the same.” I think when you reach that point then just grab it, just start clenching your instrument, and seeing what noises come out. Just play. Get weird. Then listen to John Hartford.

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S O UND & V I S I O N

THE WAKE

ST E V I E L AC H E R

Mission-based apparel company releases new collection in support of women’s rights BY ISABELLA MURRAY Walking up a pathway painted brightly with rainbow stripes, it was apparent upon entering MY SISTER’s Uptown Minneapolis store that inclusion and cheerful attitudes were in attendance.

The new collection focuses on clothing that read statements like: “badass feminist,” “intersectional feminism,” “not here to please you,” and “we can only be human together.”

As it was International Women’s Day, the store was filled with patrons there to purchase MY SISTER’s new clothing line, released purposefully on that honorary day.

“These shirts are meant to get discussion going and for people to think about sex trafficking issues,” Fende said. “Part of our goal is raising awareness and not just selling shirts.”

The store, set-up to accommodate an event for the release of the collection, was abundant with City Girl Coffee and Glam Doll donuts sporting feminist inscriptions on them–businesses that are in line with MY SISTER’s mission of intersectionality. A wall was dedicated to survivors of sex trafficking, and colored pens were available for anyone who wanted to dedicate a sentiment to the cause. All messages will be displayed at Breaking Free, a non-profit and social justice organization in St. Paul that helps women escape systems of prostitution and sexual exploitation. “All of the clothing is sweatshop free, exploitation free, with the use of soy-based ink, so it’s environmentally friendly. We look at everything,” CFO Nicole Fende said.

The company gives 10 percent of its proceeds to fight sex trafficking in Minnesota. The company has raised almost $86,000 thus far. “I think as someone who is a millennial myself, I’m always looking for brands that actually support causes,” the Director of Marketing, Maria McGinty, said. “This is one where we really put our money where our mouth is.”

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The choice to release the new collection on International Women’s Day was made because of the increased awareness about issues that affect young women surrounding the day. “Part of International Women’s Day is not just to empower women but to encourage them to live in a safe world where we’re not going to be objectified or victims of violence,” Fende said.

MY SISTER originally launched in 2015 and has since worked with and raised money for non-profit partners who help with their mission to prevent sex trafficking. “There is a real problem here in Minnesota with sex trafficking,” Fende said. “A lot of people think it doesn’t happen here–that it happens somewhere else. It’s happening here, it’s a real issue here in the Twin Cities.” Furthering this sentiment, the company is starting a survivor internship program for people that are transitioning out of their lives in the sex trafficking industry. MY SISTER believes that the work needs to be systemically broken. The collection’s release brought in much traffic–both in the retail store and online, much of which came from the local community. According to McGinty, “People were ready when employees were opening the door.”

ISA B ELLA MU RRAY

According to MY SISTER’s website, the company works to prevent sex trafficking, educate communities, empower the population, provide after-care for survivors, and offer growth opportunities to at-risk women through the sales of ethically-sourced apparel and accessories.

Fende, who also works as an actuary, hopes to inspire young girls to pursue an education in the math and sciences. She is unhappy with the underrepresentation of women in STEM.

Beyond the text on the shirts, unisex options were available to promote an intersectional and inclusive approach to fighting for women’s rights.

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T H E WA K E

S OUND & VIS ION

The Windy City Learn more about our representatives and their journeys BY TONY BURTON Last semester, the University of Minnesota’s official Slam Poetry Organization, SPEAK Poetry, hosted tryouts at the Whole Music Club, offering a space for artists to share their voices. In return, judges selected representatives who will compete in CUPSI, a national slam poetry tournament at the University of Illinois at Chicago, Apr. 12-15. Below are some responses from two of SPEAK Poetry’s representatives, Rola Alasmar and Duncan Slagle.

Rola Alasmar: SPEAK Poetry held three monthly slams, and the top three scorers from each qualified to go on to compete at the Grand Slam in December. Judges for each slam were just random audience members, so there was definitely a little bit of luck in the process, depending on who your judges were. But everyone who ended up qualifying is incredibly talented, and I think the process worked in a wondrous way, leading us all to be on the team together. : Do you have a favorite slam artist? If so, who? What makes them your favorite, and do they inspire your work? Duncan Slagle: There’s a slam team/collective/dinner group called Sad Boy Supper Club, that’s made up of poets Sam Sax, Hieu Minh Nguyen, Danez Smith, and Cam Awkward-Rich. Their individual bodies of work inspire me: all things queer, sad, glorious, bloody, empowering, and tender. Get into them! : What inspires you most as a slam poet? RA: Slam poetry is pretty much the best place to be able to go on stage and yell about your problems while still being able to call it an art. Hearing the audience respond to your stories and messages and react to lines that really stand out to them is a really powerful feeling. Slam poetry is cathartic in nature for me, and the way you feel after a performance is something you can’t really get anywhere else, and that’s what keeps me going as a writer and performer. : Is there a rehearsal process you and your fellow representatives go through before the tournament? If so, what does it consist of? DS: Yeah, the process is very focused on creating content together and sharpening poems we’ve already written. Group pieces are written on topics that we feel mutually passionate about. We give each other writing and performance feedback on pieces we’ll be individually

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TAY LO R DAN I E L S

The Wake: What was the process of being selected to represent the U at the 2017 CUPSI Tournament?

slamming. We laugh. We cry. We talk about memes. We dissect different socio-economic oppressions that we and folks we love face. We stress about deadlines. : Do you have any tips for aspiring slam poets, for example, how can more people get involved? RA: Be passionate and don’t be afraid to share the most personal aspects of yourself. You have to be willing to be vulnerable and the more you do it the easier it will get and the better you will feel afterwards. Find ways to relate to people, but wholeheartedly be yourself. You are the only person who knows your stories and no one can tell them better than you, so figure out what’s inside of you that you need to share with the world. You don’t have to always have a set idea for where your writing is going. Sometimes, I wake up in the middle of the night with a great line, and I just type it in the notes of my phone. You just have to start writing and editing and sometimes things don’t turn out as well as you hoped, but you just gotta keep going. Find poets who inspire you and watch other people’s performances and read other work. It will inspire you to share your own stories. : What is the message you want to get across with your slam poetry? DS: “Queer” has a lot of different faces, definitions, and manifestations— all worth witnessing. RA: I feel like I have a lot of feelings and different things that I write tend to showcase different aspects of myself. I guess I use poetry as a way for the world to understand me and a way for me to better understand myself.

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S O UND & V I S I O N

THE WAKE

We Want the Funk!

The Dream Flight BY PALLAVI JANIANI

An exploration of the jazz-funk revival

BY KARL WITKOWIAK

Funk and jazz are genres based on several key components, including a reliance on a two-celled onbeat/offbeat structure, a use of minor chords to structure the melody, and an expression of spirituality and freedom in style and lyrics. In funk especially, bass lines are prominent in the rhythm with a hornline punctuating the melody. These components are evident in possibly the biggest funk hit in decades, “Uptown Funk” by Mark Ronson and Bruno Mars. This song excels at what it’s trying to be: a homage to the funk sound that is meticulous in its production, but also charming and loose in its performance. Kendrick Lamar’s album “To Pimp a Butterfly” is a celebration of black culture, lyrically and instrumentally. As such, Kendrick incorporates funk and jazz into his album, most apparently on songs like “Wesley’s Theory” and “These Walls.” Kendrick also enlists fellow funk musicians, such as Thundercat and legendary funk artist George Clinton. Kendrick’s idea of funk music is that of black celebration more than loose expression, and while the jazz and funk stylings of his music are welcome, they don’t quite match the true feeling of a traditional funk song. One modern artist that gets pretty close to the prototypical funk style is Anderson .Paak. .Paak enlisted his own funk band, The Free Nationals, for plenty of the songs on his latest album, “Malibu”, and not only do tracks like “Come Down” and “Am I Wrong?” have the fundamentals of a typical jazz/funk song, they also share a silliness in lyricism and tone, as well as a loose style that made funk music initially stand out as a genre. While funk and jazz music are not completely dead, with artists like Thundercat and jazz musician Kamasi Washington still making critically acclaimed music, these genres may not make a full recovery into the mainstream. However, the sound itself is still welcome and adds plenty of color to the cheeks of popular music today.

There was an airplane. With a clear glass top. Inside the plane was my family—about 30 people ranging from grandparents to nieces and nephews. While I do not quite remember the exact purpose of my family being on the plane, it probably had something to do with a picnic or an outing. Everybody was talking and eating, but we were strapped into our seats with restraints like those you’d find on a rollercoaster. Suddenly, there was an announcement by the pilot, resulting in everybody sitting still and upright. My grandfather and a couple of other people pressed red buttons on the bottom of their seats as the airplane approached Hawa Mahal (the Palace of Wind), in my hometown of Jaipur, India. A clear, oval shaped covering formed above their seats, resulting in an egg-shaped appearance. Then the top of the aircraft opened and the egg-shaped seats went out of the plane and landed on the monument. This continued happening as the plane flew over different monuments. I stopped at Jal Mahal, which is a palace in water. Everybody was at their chosen monument for two hours, during which they walked around, clicking pictures and educating themselves on the heritage. The plane went over the areas again, picking everybody up to go back home. The top closed and everyone started talking and sharing their pictures.

ART BY N O R A P E T E R S O N

Funk music seems to be making a resurgence lately. With acts like Kendrick Lamar, Childish Gambino, and Anderson .Paak incorporating funk and jazz instrumentation into their latest works, these genres have become mainstream again. However, how much of this trend is drawing upon what made funk and jazz such cultural milestones at the time of their inceptions?

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A journey through the weird world of dreams

Maybe this dream reflected my family’s love for travel, or my love for my city and its heritage. Another way of looking at this is to take the non-Freudian approach, which says that dreams are not necessarily a representation of anything significant, but rather, a manifestation of something in the back of one’s mind. I might have seen a movie with airplanes in it, or recalled visiting these monuments, or even just thought about an outing. But what were airplanes and egg-shaped seats with roller coaster constraints doing in the back of my mind? Perhaps I was just hungry for some breakfast and travel. It was summer, after all.

MAR 27–AP R 9


T H E WA K E

S OUND & VIS ION

“ ,” A&E Journalism, and the Future of American Film Continuing The Wake’s discussion on the relevancy of A&E journalism in the Trump Era

BY SAM BATISTICH

For independent film, for the film industry at large, and for the future of American arts and popular culture, that night was a landmark event. In the 89-year history of the awards show, 89 films have been awarded Best Picture, but none have been so far removed from mainstream Hollywood as “Moonlight.” On one hand, the film was produced for just $1.5 million, making it (by far) the least expensive film to be nominated for the award last year. “La La Land,” for instance, had a budget of $20 million and told a romantic story at the heart of an idealized Hollywood culture. “Moonlight,” in contrast, sought to illustrate the struggles of a young, African-American, gay man coming of age in the impoverished Liberty City neighborhood of Miami. In other words, it was a film about a world rarely represented in the Hollywood landscape. That is not to say that works of black queer cinema like “Moonlight” did not exist. In fact, the genre has existed for decades, and independent masterpieces like Jennie Livingston’s “Paris is Burning” and the more recent “Pariah” by Dee Rees, have made appearances on the fringes of popular culture. So why did “Moonlight” enjoy such profound success? It is difficult to truly know. But in exploring its development, along with the revolutionary techniques employed by the filmmakers, we can seek to

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better understand what ultimately distinguished last year’s best film. In 2003, the playwright Tarell Alvin McCraney wrote a semiautobiographical play titled “In Moonlight Black Boys Look Blue.” The play’s protagonist, like McCraney, grew up questioning his sexuality in the throes of Miami’s crack epidemic. “In Moonlight” was never produced, and McCraney ultimately shelved the piece. Fourteen years later, McCraney would stand onstage beside director Barry Jenkins at the 89th Academy Awards to accept an Oscar for Best Adapted Screenplay for their partnership in writing “Moonlight,” a film heavily inspired by McCraney’s play. Later that night, the most esteemed prize in American film, the Academy Award for Best Picture, would be handed to Jenkins following a tumultuous and humiliating mix-up that mistakenly awarded Damien Chazelle’s “La La Land” the prize over “Moonlight.” So what happened in those fourteen years? In fact, very much: In 2008, Jenkins released his debut feature “Medicine for Melancholy” to critical acclaim. In the years following, the rising director authored several screenplays that were never produced. As the world of independent film awaited his sophomore picture, Jenkins searched fruitlessly for an exceptional concept to develop. Then, in 2013, with the Borscht Corporation, a non-profit film production company in Miami, Jenkins met McCraney. And so began a project that would

TAY LO R DAN I E L S

Several weeks ago, Liv Riggins penned an article for The Wake titled “A Political Plead for A&E,” that cogently reflected on the state of arts & entertainment journalism in the Trump Era. “Understanding and critiquing previously unexamined forms of media and even arts institutions is crucial to creating a more just, interesting, and diverse arts scene,” she wrote. To put this crucial idea regarding A&E journalism into practice, the American public should consider “Moonlight” and its Best Picture victory at the Academy Awards in late February.

marry the creative minds of the two artists and, in time, yield 2016’s internationally renowned “Moonlight.” In retrospect, “Moonlight” stands out as one of the most subversive films in decades. The film evolved the normative urban drug story of hatred and violence, telling an expansive epic of personal alienation, love, and rebirth. It achieved this by fostering a deeply intimate atmosphere with remarkable filming techniques. Throughout, the film juxtaposes extended point-of-view sequences with open and sprawling shots of Miami streets and the empty oceanic landscape they run against. “‘Moonlight’ is a story that hasn’t been told,” Jenkins said. It is a radical work because its story—the coming of age of “people like Chiron” (the film’s protagonist)—has so rarely been told, and has never received such wide recognition and acclaim. “Right now,” Jenkins said, “we’re in this moment where black culture in arts and letters is so fucking potent.” The arts in America are changing. And as the arts cultivate a public consciousness more aware of the distinctive experiences of people across the nation, the richer our culture will become, and the truer it will be to the ideals of diversity and equality.

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S O UND & V I S I O N

THE WAKE

ST E V IE LAC H E R

PSSY CTRL at Comedy Corner Underground BY DYLAN KUNKEL Comedy Corner Underground, a venue nestled in the basement of the Corner Bar in Seven Corners, is a place I’ve come to know very well over the last few years. I started attending Comedy Corner’s open mics as a junior in high school, and after all this time, my initial impression of the place’s cozy and somehow charmingly derelict atmosphere remains (the tip bucket passed around at the end of shows usually comes with a sardonic mention of the large hole in the drywall behind the stage). On ground level, it’s an average sports bar with big screen televisions and a popcorn machine – the kind of place that doesn’t question the presence of four 17-year-olds. Opening the door to the basement, however, gives a glimpse of what makes this place special. The narrow flight of steep stairs leading down to the basement is usually being climbed and descended simultaneously by two lines of bar-goers inching past each other while scanning the thick patina of old show posters that coats the walls. The buffer of comedians crunched into the tiny, dark hallway at the bottom of the steps gives one the feeling that the name “Comedy Corner Underground” is entirely apt.

At Home with Monsters

A regular’s perspective at the monthly female-centered comedy show

The basement radiates the kind of ambiance that nearly brings a tear to any comedy fan’s eye, and it just so happens that the place has a stable of talented regulars supporting the humble basement’s promise. PSSY CTRL is a monthly show at the Corner that highlights the talents of female comedians and comedians of color, and it’s free to anyone with a student ID. The show I saw on March 9 had me genuinely laughing my ass off at the performances of almost every performer. There wasn’t a moment filled with the ‘cringe, pitylaugh, cringe again’ rhythm that sometimes creeps into Comedy Corner’s open-mics. The performers were also keen to not prioritize politics over punchlines, even as many interspersed their sets with rather serious commentary, e.g. the glaring double standard of female comedians being lambasted if they are ever to mention a vagina, while a male comedian delivering a set devoid of dick jokes is rare. PSSY CTRL, as well as the Corner’s open mics, is something a little different from what university-sponsored entertainment has to offer in terms of content and demographic, making this variety well-worth the quick jaunt off campus.

Mia’s latest exhibit explores the relationship between ourselves and the monsters that terrorize us.

The crimson gothic archway that marks the entrance to the Minneapolis Institute of Art’s “Guillermo del Toro: At Home with Monsters” forebodingly suggests that what lies ahead is not of this world. Passing through the threshold into the exhibit, a transformation occurs. It still feels very much like a museum, but at the same time, the surreal art, blood-red walls, and uncanny mannequins give the exhibit an otherworldly feeling. The exhibit offers an intimate look into the vile, fantastical world of the idiosyncratic del Toro, a man deeply ensconced in the worlds of literature, art history, and film. The exhibit offers a once-in-a-lifetime look at del Toro’s personal collection of art, as well as memorabilia from his movies, and his own personal creations. The extensive collection of artwork, props, and mannequins runs the gamut from horrific and grotesque to poignant and delicate. Eclectic in every sense of the word, one can expect to find original artwork from “Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark,” an assortment of H.P. Lovecraft busts, the nightmarish paintings of Zdziskław Beksiński, and inviting, yet

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menacing creatures from del Toro’s own works, such as The Faun from “Pan’s Labyrinth.” Though the exhibit is comprised of only five rooms, one can expect to spend hours taking it all in. The exhibit’s design borrows inspiration from del Toro’s own Dickens-inspired estate, Bleak House, which serves as the resting place for his collection, as well as a conduit for his perverse creative energy. Walking through the exhibit is a bit like taking a journey through del Toro’s twisted yet profound psyche. The exhibit’s curator, Gabriel Ritter, said he was initially skeptical about horror’s merit for artistic exhibition, but del Toro’s collection made him “a believer.” Although the exhibit is at times gruesome, it is also quite thoughtful. Del Toro’s works explore themes of death, fragility, and innocence, and those themes are reflected in

RUBY GUT HR IE

BY JACOB STEINBERG

the way he uses monsters; not as mindless obstacles or as vehicles for cheap jump scares, but as a way for us to contemplate our own humanity. “The world of facts and the world of reality is only one half of the equation,” said Ritter “In [del Toro’s] world, and in his mind, the world of monsters is the other half of the equation—a whole other world that remains largely untapped by most of us.”

MAR 27–AP R 9


S OUND & VIS ION

TAYLO R DA N I E LS

TAYLO R DA N I E LS

EST H E R YA N G

T HRE E RE VIE W S

Lorde Gives The “Green Light” Thundercat’s “Drunk” All grooves—nothing more, nothing less BY BROCK SPLAWSKI At a sprawling 23 tracks over 51 minutes, virtuoso bassist Thundercat’s third album isn’t one that thrives on being refined. “Drunk” relies on the chops of its primary performer, putting his bass grooves on a pedestal against a backdrop of minimalist drum machines and dreamy synthwork. Thundercat doesn’t seem to worry about any sort of filtering from a lyrical and songwriting perspective, as his seemingly stream-of-conscious vocals coincide with the offhand, jam-like progressions many of the songs entail. This sort of nonchalant approach turns the album into a hit-and-miss affair, as chops and groove take precedence over intriguing songwriting. Thundercat’s vocals are pleasant, but nothing more. His instrumental workings are groovy, but passive. Perhaps “Drunk” would work better as a more concise effort, but instead the songs tend to bleed into each other because of the offhand nature of the record. Thundercat’s lyrics occasionally leave something to be desired as well. There’s a good amount of goofiness showcased throughout the album, and quotable nuggets can be found on multiple tracks. Occasionally, this works against him. However, at times, he delves into cringeworthy subjects that almost ruin the song altogether, exemplified in tracks like “Friend Zone.” Luckily, this isn’t an album that relies on such goofiness as its primary appeal. “Drunk” is simply a record that provides a heavy amount of grooves for a pleasant background listen. Nothing more, nothing less.

M A R 27–A P R 9

The New Zealand artist returns after a three-year hiatus BY TONY BURTON After years of silence, the Grammy award-winning artist, Lorde, is back with a new single, “Green Light.” The track, co-written and produced by Lorde and fun. contributor, Jack Antonoff, explores the soul of the New Zealand singer after her first experience with heartbreak. Despite the content matter, the song is surprisingly uplifting. It was so uplifting, in fact, that Lorde herself was shocked by the outcome of the song. In an interview with Beats 1, the singer spoke on this strange paradox, “It sounds so happy and the lyrics are so intense. I thought, ‘How is this thing coming out so joyous?’ and I realized that this is the drunk girl at the party, dancing around, crying about her ex-boyfriend, who everyone thinks is a mess … that’s her tonight, and then tomorrow—she starts to rebuild.” This paradox bleeds through the lyrics as well as the musical progression of the song. Starting off as a slow ballad, the song quickly progresses into a surprisingly joyous piano riff as the singer proclaims, “But I hear sounds in my mind/Brand new sounds in mind.” The track continues, exploding into a throbbing chorus. The best way to experience Lorde’s “Green Light” is to listen to it, paying close attention to the sound and lyrics, as it shows a side of the artist that listeners have not yet heard. As a sneak peek into Lorde’s sophomore album, “Melodrama,” “Green Light” shows a matured version of the singer/songwriter. The upcoming release of “Melodrama” will be a true telling of how much the New Zealand songwriter has grown. However, we will have to wait until summer to experience it in its entirety.

“Get Out” Jordan Peele’s unsettling comedy horror film challenges racism in contemporary America BY SAM BATISTICH “Get Out” is an intelligent and thrilling satirical film from comedian-turned-filmmaker Jordan Peele of the equally brilliant sketch comedy show “Key & Peele.” With the exceptionally talented Daniel Kaluuya as the film’s lead role, Peele’s feature debut explores the nature and perpetuation of racism in American society and the pervasiveness of microaggressive behaviors toward African-Americans. The presentation of these behaviors evolves throughout the movie, crafting an atmosphere of unease that gradually develops into the unmitigated horror of institutional oppression. “Get Out” tells the story of a black man named Chris who visits the secluded estate of his girlfriend’s family. There, it becomes increasingly clear that the black groundskeeper and maid are being held at the home against their will. Throughout his stay, Chris faces various forms of racism, all of which contribute to his objectification and subjugation by the white men and women who populate the film. The film’s deft ability to blend comedic sequences into moments of unqualified terror lends to the potency of the central commentary it stresses: the danger and prevalence of implicit racism in contemporary America and its inherent relationship with the institutions that have oppressed people of color throughout history. In this way, “Get Out” is surreal, yet frighteningly akin to the everyday African-American experience. The monsters of “Get Out” are not imagined—they are real. They are our neighbors, our coworkers, even our family. They are all of us, to some degree, who participate (consciously or not) in a system that has perpetuated the institutional racism still thriving today.

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Flights start May 1, 2017 from Terminal 2.

Fly nonstop from your Minneapolis/St. Paul airport with Condor Airlines to Germany and beyond. Discover everything Europe has to offer. Book your summer 2017 getaway now.

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11/29/16 10:48 AM


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The Wake, Issue 10, Spring 2017 by The Wake Magazine - Issuu