Just a little frazzled; but it’s nothing that will stop me from making it to the end of my 12-hour day of school at 10 p.m.
The commute this morning wasn’t too bad–cold, naturally, and the damn Harlem bus delays forced me to run to catch the Division St. shuttle to the main campus…but Rocky, the driver, saw me and pulled to the side and waited. Thank God.
The Tuesday morning rush for me is often soothed by a small cup of coffee–I don’t need an 18-oz serving. We discussed Frankenstein in class and I like it so far!
I’m annoyed that I can’t find my partner for this commercial we’re supposed to record at 1. I’d like to rehearse with him a couple more times but he is nowhere to be found and his supposed school email address “doesn’t exist.” Wtf? Whatever; that’s what I get for working with a freshman. Never again. I’ll just write something up real quick and he’ll have to improvise or I’ll beat his ass. Classic Charlotte; saving the day on the fly every time.
I’m in the tech center and my beloved favorite teacher of all time, Dr. Germaine Goetz-Sota, just walked through here to take the underground hallway to the Fine Arts building. She stopped and chatted with me for a minute. The first thing she said was, “Isn’t it great about Obama? It’s so refreshing and exciting!” She made me squeal a little. Asked about how I’m doing, congratulated me on it being my last year (she taught my first class my first semester here) and with a hug, kiss, a “take care” and “I love you,” she was off.
And suddenly, I don’t really care about any of these external stressors that won’t even matter come 10:30 p.m. You just gotta work through em day by day and persevere.
I love that woman. She’s one of the few people on this planet that I’ve felt that soul connection with, and she has definitely been a catalyst in the forward-motion of my adult life. I haven’t taken any of her courses in the last year and a half, but she will always know just how to make my day and remedy any worries. That was the case just now, and maybe she didn’t even know it.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008 will go down in the books as one of the most ground-breaking days in the history of the world.
Eager with anticipation of The Big Day, I could not sleep Monday night. After a couple hours of intermittent shut-eye, I rose early to head to my polling station, and waited for about an hour and a half to do my duty as a citizen, voting for Senator Barack Obama.
*Flashback* February 11, 2007. Dominican students Mariya Kozlova, Tyson Schutz and I went to the UIC Pavillion to attend one of the first campaign stops in the days after Senator Barack Obama announced his decision to run for the presidency.
The MC announced Obama as “the next President of the United States.” The energy and excitement in that arena was unbelievable, and that man stirred up deep emotion within all. Little did we know about what was in store for the nation over the next 21 months…
Back to Election Day.
I waited at a CTA stop to head to Dominican for my Tuesday morning classes, rocking the “HOPE” shirt I made at 3 a.m.
On my train car, I found a flier for Senator Harmon from Oak Park.
I tried to finish my Dostoevsky reading on the train to no avail; my mind was on the election. On campus, you could sense the nervous energy; the collective panic attack feeling throughout–but in a good way.
On the way home, I saw many more “I voted!” stickers and election pride, exciting me further.
I bet this man with an Obama/Biden button was up early to vote…
I got home around 4:30, ran some quick errands, and hopped back on the El to head downtown for night two of Hanson at the House of Blues.
Excitedly waiting for my friend Natalie to meet me at State and Lake…
…my inner journalist started to itch and I ran across the street to capture the people hanging out in front of the ABC News studio, peering in the glass and watching the news ticker. They were talking about New Hampshire, but these headlines made my heart jump:
Natalie arrived and we walked across the bridge to the House of Blues just as doors were opening. Hanson’s opening artists were an LA band called Everybody Else and an artist named Dave Barnes. The musicians were all excited for the elections, stating their Obama pride and applauding all the concert attendees who had voted in the past month, regardless of which candidate they supported.
Near the end of Dave Barnes’ set, Zac and Taylor Hanson surprised us by taking the stage to serenade the crowd with an a capella rendition of the Star-Spangled Banner.
The guys played a rockin’, energetic set and everyone in the House had a fantastic time.
In addition to their originals, Hanson covered Bill Withers’ “Ain’t No Sunshine,” as well as other classics–”Oh! Darling,” by the Beatles, “Hole in My Life” by the Police, “(I Want to Take You) Higher” by Sly and the Family Stone…
And during their song “Running Man,” Zac modified the lyrics to sing, “Life isn’t what it seems/Dave Barnes in my dreams/That’s exactly what I mean!” while the other bands goofed off onstage, playing a political-themed prank on Dave.
It was definitely a party.
The show ended around 9:40, and Natalie, Sara and I made our way down to Michigan Avenue to be a part of the Grant Park festivities. The outpouring of people was overwhelming, and the excitement was unlike anything I’ve ever witnessed in my life.
This was BEFORE it was “officially announced that Obama was the winner,” but at this point it was pretty much a given.
The Obama gear being sold on the streets was in high demand!
And the police presence was so reassuring. It was all hands on deck; there were at least five on EVERY corner.
A sweet girl offered to take our photo in front of the Art Institute. “This is history in the making,” she said, smiling. “You girls’ll show this picture to your grandchildren and say, ‘I was there!’”
We finally found a JumboTron with CNN footage and the words: Barack Obama Elected President of the United States.
There are no words to comprehensively describe that feeling.
Only pictures. And I apparently couldn’t keep my mouth closed all night!
Finally, after a number of commercials, we sang the national anthem (I felt like part of the biggest choir in the world [and I thought the Hanson boys did it better;)]), and Senator John McCain took the stage in Arizona to address the world.
And finally, our guy came out with his beautiful family.
CNN footage of the first 2 minutes of his speech:
The crowds walking toward the parking lots, trains, and buses were unbelievable. The sheer magnitude of people who had all come out for the same purpose, in solidarity, was astounding. For miles, all you could see were hoards of people…of all colors, all ethnicities, all ages.
People were standing on ledges, dancing, singing, hugging, chanting, LOVING.
And finally, over an hour later, the streets started to clear.
A few friends and I went to Sanjay’s house to have a couple celebratory cocktails:
And finally, at 1:15 a.m., I decided to head home to hopefully catch one of the last pink line trains. As I approached the station, a lady was selling the first copies of the Chicago Tribune.
I asked a few officers who were on the State & Lake platform if the trains were still running, and had a wonderful conversation with a police officer. I was looking over the front page of the Trib, overwhelmed with emotion, and he came over to chat with me. “You look very sentimental,” he said, smiling.
“Tonight was just…unlike anything I’ve ever experienced,” I told him. “The solidarity, the turnout…tonight I am TRULY proud to live in Chicago, and proud to be an American. There is hope.”
“Oh, yeah, this has been a remarkable night,” he said. “America elected a person because of his character. What happened here tonight doesn’t just affect you and me. The whole world was watching. Tonight will impact the entire world.”
He said he had heard that gunshots were fired on the south side, but they were celebratory shots and no one had been injured–that he knew of. He also told me that Tuesday had been his day off, but since it was an all-hands-on-deck night, he was getting paid time and a half and was very happy about that! With some more words of encouragement and a handshake wishing me well, the 54/Cermak Pink Line train approached.
I cried as I read the front page on the train:
“Barack Obama, son of an African man and a white woman from Kansas, a figure virtually unknown outside his home state of Illinois just five years ago, emphatically captured the presidency Tuesday night, as crowds massed in Grant Park to cheer his victory…
…With his victory, America’s tortured relationship with race has entereed a new phase. The Obama presidency may be a sign that a country that all too recently tolerated segregation has moved irrevocably forward, or it may mean only that the nation is so hungry for change that it set aside racial struggles.
Obama is a man of extraordinary political gifts. The challenges facing him are many, including wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, and a struggling economy. He will confront them soon enough.
But Tuesday night, at least, was a time to marvel at a once-inconceivable moment in American history.”
Reading about the events that I had been in the midst of, a part of merely HOURS ago was mind-blowing.
At 1:50 a.m. I walked the two blocks from the California stop to my house on Marshall Boulevard. The streets were still and silent; I encountered not a soul.
Still riding the waves of euphoria from the evening, I reflected on all I had seen and experienced that night. As a person who fits into many “categories”–female, college student, first-generation African (like Obama), hopefully to have a family some day, the events of election night have definitely changed the face of my future, and that of the world. To see America stand behind an exceptional man, one that I have personally admired for over two years, and a man of color…there are no words to truly encompass that feeling.
And when I got home, I dumped the contents of my purse onto my bed.
Tagged in this photo: Nov. 5 issue of the Chicago Tribune, Barack Obama poster, Harajuku Lovers hoodie, wallet, handout from Revolution, my reporter’s notebook, Starburst wrappers, assorted Sharpies and pens, lighters and matches, keys, Hanson HOB tickets, a comb, the Nov. 4 issue of the Red Eye, and my trusty Moleskine notebook.
It’s time. It’s been a long time coming, but well worth the wait. Martin Luther King had a dream. Yesterday, that dream was actualized: America selected a man because of the content of his character.
It is a decades-old issue across the globe—super-skinny models and waiflike celebrities influencing “regular” people—but it wasn’t always like that. In the 1940s and 50s, voluptuous, post-war fertility symbols were worshiped—models and actresses such as Marilyn Monroe—and they dominated pop culture until British model Twiggy hit the scene. Ninety pounds at the age of 16, she was a catalyst for the 60s mod craze embracing fair, thin-limbed, doe-eyed beauties that has continued…until now.
Change may be on the horizon, however. Sparked by the runway collapse of a Uruguayan model who subsisted on leafy vegetables for six months, leading to her death, Milan and Madrid have banned excessively thin models from their runways.
There is even pending legislation that would enable judges to fine or imprison publications, modeling agencies, or fashion designers for “inciting” anorexia, according to “Size zero not my hero,” an article the Daily Targum published in April. They report that models with a body mass index, or BMI, of lower than 18 (meaning a 5’9″ girl cannot weigh less than 124 pounds) are not able to walk the runways, and new industry standards are requiring them to carry up-to-date health certificates. Is that too much?
“I think it’s a good idea,” said freshman Dominican University student Alex Cifuentes, “but models are always going to be skinny.”
Dr. Susan Strawn, associate professor of fashion, agrees. “The [industry] talks about it, and gets a lot of publicity for it, but then nothing really seems to change,” she said. “It seems like they’re designing for 14-year-old girls who’ve just had a growth spurt. I can’t claim that I fully understand it.” Strawn, who is teaching history of dress and cultural perspectives of dress courses this semester, address these issues with students in the merchandising course.
“I received a number of comments last year that the Dominican fashion show models were too skinny,” she reveals. “It’s something people are aware of and it’s going to be an ethical issue that the apparel design and merchandising students will grapple with when they enter the working world.” Student designer Andrea Blaylock addresses that now: she focuses on styles for plus-size teens. “She’s helping them make better choices about what’s flattering on them,” Strawn said, “because if they put on something designed for slender bodies, they look terrible.”
Uber-thin industry standards not only affect ordinary women, but the models themselves. The question of what constitutes a healthy body is also an issue that needs closer examination. Dr. Judy Beto, professor of nutrition sciences, understands the problem all too well, but offers solutions. As a former morning news anchor, she occasionally traveled with girls who had gripes about the pressure. “Most models would complain that they can’t eat as much food as they’d like,” she said, “But the way they can get around that is to build body muscle, because muscle burns more calories than fat.”
Many models, and females who strive to look like them, resort to unhealthy methods of losing weight: starving, purging, using laxatives, smoking, eating only fruit, lettuce, or Kleenex (yes, tissues!), excessive detoxifying, and even hooking up to yellow-colored IV drips containing multivitamins–but not eating.
“Models need to eat!” said freshman Perla Reyes. “They’re role models. They should just eat good food—fruit, vegetables, meat—eat regularly. Not too much, but regularly. Models make young girls want to be skinnier, and they become anorexic and get sick. ”
When asked his preference between thin or curvy girls, Student Greg Zook, sophomore, responded, “You mean, thick? No. I prefer skinny girls. Just don’t overdo it. You don’t want to date a girl that looks TOO good because they dump you, but some girls become anorexic; they go overboard.” His friends Mohammad Alyai and George Sauvageau agreed that they prefer healthy bodies over “toothpick skinny” ones, and that models are a bad influence on young women.
Beto backs up that statement with facts. “Body mass index [is calculated] by your height and weight, but the most important thing is to have a healthy body. Many people are overweight by BMI standards, but are cardiovascular fit,” she explained. “The concern we have is when someone is larger than they were designed to be—like they were born to be a Toyota and they become a Mack truck. Their hearts have not been exercised to support that extra weight, and they’re at greater risk. “
The long-term health effects of the aforementioned methods are all detrimental—anorexia has the highest mortality rate of any psychiatric disorder, claiming more lives than schizophrenia and depression, Dawn Sagario wrote in the 2001 article “A Web of Deceit.” However, Beto offers healthy advice: “Models can do Pilates to tone muscles without bulking up,” she said. “That creates lean muscle but maintains muscle mass so that they can eat more food than if they were just of low body weight without any muscle mass. That’s why you see more models today with defined arms and toned bodies.”
As a culture evolves, the standard of beauty seems to change as well. The most recent cycle of retired supermodel Tyra Banks’ television show America’s Next Top Model crowned its first “plus-sized” model, Whitney Thomson. While most would argue that a size eight is not large but standard, one should remember that the winners from the previous two cycles were sizes zero and two. The blonde, bubbly Thomson said on the show that she wanted to be a representative for “normal” women.
Not only are weight standards being regulated, but the classic blonde-hair-blue-eyed beauty ideal is being challenged. In July, Italian Vogue published its first issue featuring all black models of all skin tones and dress sizes. Featuring a wide span of classic and fresh faces from Iman to Naomi to Chanel Iman, it was Italian Vogue’s best-selling issue. Ever. Publisher Conde Nast ran a 100,000 copy reprint which promptly sold out, and it is still in high demand: people are currently selling the issue for $60 on eBay.
Following suit, the November issue of l’Uomo Vogue, a men’s European style magazine, will feature an all-Africa theme, with half of the ad revenue going to African charities.
In an age where people are becoming more consciously awakened and celebrating diversity, it is only fitting that the design industry takes small steps toward progress—the fact that European fashion epicenters are challenging long-held beauty trends to promote health is evidence.
Beto applauds the rising health standards, but emphasizes caution in standardizing BMI limits. “The number itself is not as important as the body distribution,” she explains. “You could have an emaciated model with a BMI of 18, and one who’s healthy and in that same category. Calories are calories, but you still have to use common sense—is it right to eat a chocolate brownie instead of an apple? There still has to be judgment. We can’t just use a number.”
why I chose this school. It’s a good place. I mean, they rape you financially, but I guess it’s worth it.[?] None of my classes so far have had more than 15 students, and the profs actually care. And maybe my attitude is a little better. “No woman can be an island…”
Plus, I’m smart and checked out the majority of my textbooks from zee library to save some dollars, cuz I have a couple expensivo books! One is $111, another is $62. Yuck. I think last semester I spent over $500. Gross. Hitting up ebay and amazon now, and I’m sure The Book Store in Glen Ellyn (half price on paperbacks!) will have some of my literature books!
Also, I’m enrolled in the journalism practicum which gives me additional credit and means I have to write for the Dominican Star. Which I do anyway.
So Tuesday is clearly going to be the crazy day where I’ll be on campus from 10-10, but at least I get the three-hour classes over with and can leave at 215 on Thursdays. The Wednesday night class should be GREAT, and the two I’ve attended thus far today are EXCITING. Maybe it’s just the start of semester excitement, but I have a good feeling about these things…maybe because I’ve done all the gen ed bullshit and don’t have to take any dumb math/English/science classes anymore.
And I made a new friend today! I mentioned in one of my classes that I’m a writer and want to do book tours, and after class this funny chick Diane approached me and told me how her 21-year-old friend is getting her book published by the company that produced The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold. I just read that book and it’s fantastic. It also kind of gave me hope that I can actually do it too. Weeeew.
It’s sad that most of my peeps have graduated, but there are still a handful of familiar good people here this year that I like from the past. Cutie Michelle, who shares my birthday, saw me. She’s such a doll. Her haircut is a longer version of mine. Twins!
I decided this year that I’ll smile more at people and be more friendly, rather than walking around, being elusive and wearing my sunglasses indoors like I did last semester. I need to uphold my “perfect and sweet lady” attributes and reputation, and not be a sociopath. Rrg.
My focus: Use my off days for schoolwork, and get REALLY good clips for the university’s newspaper so I have SOMETHING to show when I graduate. We’re publishing biweekly now, so I gotta stay on top o’ this shiz.
