Colour Issue No. 1 by Colour Magazine

THE RESISTANCE ISSUE

ISSUE NO. 1

COLOUR

and when we speak we are afraid our words will not be heard nor welcomed but when we are silent we are still afraid So it is better to speak remembering we were never meant to survive

AUDRE LORDE

colour Editor-in-chief Oluwatobi Alawode

Creative Director Photo Director Production Director Design Director Design Editors Make-up Artists Staff Writers Contributing Writers Cover Model Models

THE RESISTANCE ISSUE

Jerusha Simmons Taylor Bird McGuire Darius Calliet Ishvinder Kaur Ashley Hanqiu Zhou, Le'Aysha Pearson Aja Welch, Bree Williams, Maya Mahendran, Ishvinder Kaur, Oluwatobi Alawode Destinee Shipley, Megan Khu, Jenny Zhang Ashley Hanqiu Zhou Akeda Hosten Annie Pudvah Rachel Schapiro Michal Cook Trish Gomez Brian Jared Balbona Samhita Vedula Angad Singh Ayeesha Sayyad Reuben Hogan Taylor Bird McGuire Ishvinder Kaur Anthony Guglin Shrey Aggarwal Kendall Maxwell

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RESISTANCE | ISSUE NO. 1

Meet The largest, of Class most diverse class in WashU 2019 history. COLOUR

Kayla Campbell Race/Ethnicity: Multiracial

Aditi Subramaniam Race/Ethnicity: Indian

Ifeoma Ufondu Race/Ethnicity: Nigerian

Anthony Scales Race/Ethnicity: Black

Brenda Alvarado Race/Ethnicity: Mexican

Megan Khu Race/Ethnicity: Chinese and Vietnamese

Cristi Flores Race/Ethnicity: Mexican-American

Atiyana Evelyn Race/Ethnicity: Bajan

Bryan Okelo Race/Ethnicity: Black

Sofia Luna Race/Ethnicity: Guatemalan-American

Emily Furst Race/Ethnicity: Chinese

Amy Lee Race/Ethnicity: Korean

Nissiya Adjei Race/Ethnicity: Ghanaian

Cristal Thomas Race/Ethnicity: Black

Kristen Walker Race/Ethnicity: Mexican-American

Sydney Tucker Race/Ethnicity: African-American

Suparna Malia Race/Ethnicity: Indian

NOT BLACK ENOUGH

A LETTER FROM THE BLACK GIRL TO THE WORLD

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DESTINEE SHIPLEY

It's amazing how the superficial Skindeep things are all that matter to you You say I’m half there, an almost black Well I’ve got news for you I'm Black enough to feel threatened too When my brothers and sisters go through some BS That threatens them Because I'm Black enough to know what it means To be so intricately complicatedly connected To everyone in my community One neuron being cut in this network Makes the others seize and quake Firing haywire in order to compensate for the loss Regardless of what part of the brain they all come from I'm black enough to know How messed up it is to try to act "not suspicious" (Which also suggests that I have something to constantly be suspicious about) My stomach doing flips when I walk into a store Or down the street Or in the dark But flashing that smile and radiating pleasantness anyway Because I don't have time or energy to get stopped today

NOT BLACK ENOUGH

I'm Black enough for my amygdala to be constantly activated Adrenaline always poised ready to move in Regardless of where I stand KKK sounding like three gunshots vibrating my ear drum Until I am sure it will rupture Fear is real, it always has been it always will be And you have never known a fear like this until you step into your own skin And realize that nothing you ever do is enough to be of value to everyone else

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You don’t care that I’m a college student You don’t care that I can speak or write well You don’t care that I consider myself to be successful Or that I have goals and dreams You mistake my intelligence for a crutch that somehow Holds me above my race But it doesn’t matter that I’m smart if you can’t see my brilliance In my darkness Not your “milk’s favorite cookie” type of darkness Where all you want is to strip me of my outsides Clean away all the dirt And expose your sweet white filling inside I mean all of my darkness Why can’t you see that this is such an integral part of me Like the stars studded in the sky My radiance accentuates the night, it’s there And I can’t escape it

NOT BLACK ENOUGH

I'm Black enough to have my heart broken over and over and over again Spilling blood into my insides and flooding my being with despair Every time I see the way you treat other people who look Just like me Like the high school girls who were thrown around by cops this year Like the little kids who were shot and killed this year Like the countless students that were threatened just for being black this year Like my little brother, who is a young Black man Who’s my right hand Who's still coming into his own this year Don't you TELL me I'm not Black enough! I've got the heartbreak and the tearstains and the fear and the anger The apparent invisibility that comes with inhabiting this body I AM BLACK I won't change that no matter what The least you can do is acknowledge that I am Enough COLOUR

MAKE (IT) UP; MIX IT UP By Megan Khu

Winged liner: The tasteful little flick that rages in popularity here in the states, notorious for making girls late for parties nation-wide. Its Asian counter-part in make-up is what I like to call moon liner: a style used for more youthful eyes as wide as the moon. (If you were wondering, the eyeliner extends out in a soft line following the natural curve of your eyelid, like the curve of a crescent moon, as opposed to the dramatic up-ward flick of winged liner) While I was practicing, i.e. stabbing myself in the eye, perfecting my winged liner, there were entire countries with their own respective make-up looks that I was oblivious to. Specifically: Korean make-up trends. In Korea, lighter color skin is considered more beautiful. Notably, the exact opposite from the darker tones of tans, sun or spray, and bronze contouring which is an increasing staple in Western beauty.

Korean foundations aim for a pearl essence to achieve a more youthful “dewy” look. The “dewy-ness” means some finished foundation looks have a soft shine to them. Once again, this is the opposite from Westernized skin ideals where matte is magical and an oily appearance is kept at bay with vicious attacks from everything in arms reach: blotting sheets, masks, serums, you name it. Korean primers can be found in various colors (yellows, lavenders, greens, etc.) designed for individuals’ unique undertones and over-tones, and probably twenty other types of tones I didn’t even know existed, to alter various skin conditions and blemishes to an ideal creamy spreadsheet. Meanwhile, American primers are usually translucent and are only an aid to better adhere foundation and contouring bronzers/high-lighters. Skin is truly the star of Korean make-up; whereas in American make-up, the emphasis is on the eyes.

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Most Asian eyeshadows styles are fairly simplistic when compared to Western eye makeup. If you watch Kdramas, after wiping the tears from your eyes, you can notice the Korean actresses have fairly simple eye makeup. Usually, the stars sport only a single eyeshadow color with brown eyeliner as opposed to black (brown vs black is less dramatic and gives a more natural appearance). At Hollywood red carpet events though, you’ll notice layers of different shadows from light highlights on the inner corners blending into darker shadows on the edges of their eyes. So while Korean idols, actresses and K-pop stars alike, model their makeup over more natural looks, American/British celebrities often strive for dramatic and bold make-up. Korean styles, and most Asian make-up, prefer a straight eyebrow to the signature arched American eyebrow. In general, straight brows are more innocent and cute while arched eyebrows give off a more sexy allure. Therefore, there is a slight rebellion of cute v.s. sexy between Asian and Western make-up trends. One of my favorite Korean make-up looks is one of the more iconic aspects of Korean make-up: Ombre lips. Korean ombre lips use a lip tint (more of a stain) rather than lipstick used in Western make-up. The color is placed on the center of the lips and fades out towards the edges rather than a single solid lipstick color which is the most common lip trend for Western makeup. Really, I could babble on and on about these things, and it’s not just me. Several YouTubers (Wengie, HeadtoToe, ClothesEncounters) have videos showcasing the differences between American make-up, Korean make-up, Japanese makeup, etc … but, so what? Although varying make-up trends can be interesting, they may seem to offer little to many people (specifically, those who do not wear makeup). However, these slight differences create their own prominence in order to cultivate diverse beauty and, for me, the subtle differences in make-up trends are cutely packaged windows to larger cultural differences.

Make-up was my gateway to expressing myself. I grew more fond of it as I realized there were times when I couldn’t fully convey how I felt, because I was being pulled between two different cultures with two very different sets of expectations. Growing up, I was fairly aware that my culture set me up for a different lifestyle. However, the extent of how much culture would affect me took years to weed through, and honestly, I’m still figuring it out. It started out in the most simplistic form: noms. There were moments when I could be happily slurping down a large (well medium, but it was large to me) bowl of pho, and my friends would tilt their heads in confusion as I tried to explain what it was. I felt bad for them; they had never experienced mooncakes or being hoisted up onto their dad’s shoulder to get a better view of the dragons dancing during Chinese New Year. But, food and festivities aside, there were certain aspects of being “Asian” which seemed to encapsulate me in the eyes of many of my friends and, eventually, even my teachers.

It was as if everyone around me was climbing trees, the branches twisting and turning into unknown adventures. Meanwhile, I was using a ladder: the path straightforward and stabilized with minimal surprises: Plan, work-hard, achieve. For a bit, I wasn’t bothered by the rigidness. I saw it as a sure fire way for me to have control over my life. My father is an international student, so his view on studying is entirely different than most parents. He pushes me to do more than most parents because that is what he had to do when he was younger. Trees and ladders both lead up-wards; it’s unfortunate that not everyone sees it that way. I remember resisting my friends’ invitations to go out or arguing with my dad for more free time. I felt caught in the mist of the plethora of memes and mockery surrounding how “strict” the Asian culture can be toward studying. I didn’t, and still don’t, want to portray the strictness as something which holds me back. I know I have grown more than I ever could have because of it. At the same time, I don’t want to neglect my friends or social life. Every day is a tiny battle, rebelling against two correct choices, and this battle goes beyond me. My uncle told me about his struggles to raise my cousins. How could he incorporate enough traditional values and still not hold his children back too much? He acknowledged that sometimes Asian cultures were too strict and, conversely, that American culture could also be too laid back. He’d have to decide, constantly, not only how he was going to apply culture to his life, but how he was going to teach it to his children and how they would bring it into the world. Until then, I knew culture was something that would never leave me. Yet, I wasn’t aware that it was something I could pick at, reshape, and even reform not only for myself, but also for those around me. So maybe, I don’t have to fight with either of these cultures. I don’t have to feel torn between the two because I have the ability to apply them how I want. Just like… well, make-up. Suddenly, all the cultural discrepancies are no more than different colored eyeshadows or lipsticks/tints, powders crushed down and neatly packaged for my convenience. I’ll face my life, intertwining my cultures, the way I apply my makeup: a mix of trends, a mix of cultures personally tailored to my style.

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WHAT DOES RESISTANCE MEAN TO YOU? by Jenny Zhang

By Jenny Zhang

Resistance. Not all resistance refers to the stark, authority-challenging, conformity-bending, media-headlining kind – although those are arguably some of the most effective forms. Some types of resistance exist in the daily struggles of an individual, unnoticed by others but felt by the individual themselves – a common experience that may be familiar to many. This is how I’ve lived the past twenty years: unaware yet hyperaware of who I am and how I look to other people. In elementary school, I noticed that most of my close friends were Asian-American. I found some comfort in knowing that, even though we were different from most of the other kids, we were different together. Even at that age, there were struggles and embarrassments we felt only we could understand about each other. Yet, there were also moments when I was uncomfortable with being different. I tried to persuade my parents not to come to holiday classroom parties, because I was afraid they would seem “weird” to the other kids, which would make me stick out even more than usual. When I got older, I silently wished for lighter hair and eyes because I would be more attractive that way, like the actors and popular students at school In high school, I gained a new level of hyperawareness to my Asianness, and with that arose a new anxiety: being typecast into “one of those Asian cliques” and dismissed by my other peers because of this. I noticed all of these Asian groups around me – at school, at church,

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and in the . Chinese Saturday school that my father required that I graduate from. I started to pick out little things I didn’t like about each. The Chinese school community gossiped about each other’s lives too much. The church clique kept their group small and exclusive, which encouraged me to keep far away. Over time, I built a wall of resentment against each of these groups, and began my ongoing battle to resist coming across to others as a stereotype of my own race. I resisted people and groups that I thought would make me seem more Asian and less approachable to my peers. I quietly yet consciously tried to associate with new crowds. My self-consciousness and selfimage were so fragile that I told myself I was gaining new, diverse experiences that I otherwise would’ve unconsciously pushed away.

Although often not ill-intentioned, use of stereotypes and microaggressions are still everywhere, and their social effects are rarely lost on the minorities that they –consciously or unconsciously– target. I don’t know what my group members intended – more likely than not, their words and actions were not meant to marginalize me – but they did nonetheless. Since minorities live with cultural, racial, societal, and other microaggressions every single day, this is where we need to put up resistance in our daily lives – in situations where we have the power to challenge people’s preconceived perceptions of us, little by little. We cannot achieve this without acknowledging and standing behind our own cultural groups and communities. This I’ve slowly learned with maturity. Living in fear of being stereotyped is simply giving in to the culture of labeling, not resisting it

My thinking wasn’t completely misguided. Seeking diverse friends and experiences is an admirable goal. Since we’re most comfortable with what we find familiar, it’s easy to simply settle down with groups of people who are like us. I continued to remind myself of this as I sought friendships and associations with new people. But it took me years to realize that my resistance had been mis-aimed. I wasn’t helping myself or anyone else by anxiously living based on what white friends and classmates might think of me. Instead, I was missing out on truly diverse experiences by not opening myself up to more people in my own cultural community. I didn’t realize where my resistance should have been aimed until much, much later –during meetings with project members and conversations at my internship. When I would walk away from a meeting, confused and frustrated because I felt so much friction in groups where I was noticeably different. When I called my sister about it and she’d told me, “You’re probably scared that people will be annoyed or argue with you – cause they expect you to be a quiet little Asian girl who sits there and agrees to everything and lets them dictate how to do things. And that’s not you at all.”

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I COULD BE ZAYN MALIK BECAUSE I TOO AM SOMETIMES CONFLICTED ABOUT MY IDENTITY BUT THEN AGAIN I AM NOT DATING GIGI HADID SO ZAYN WINS THIS ROUND By Maya Mahendran

It’s weird to grow up during your formative years being known mainly by a series of stereotypes. In middle school, I was a smart Indian. I ate “weird-smelling” food. I had very unruly not-straight hair. In retrospect, I see that we are not considered conventionally attractive, but we are fetishized. We are from a “third world country” but are placed into “gifted” programs at school and assumed to be naturally smart. Growing up in Kansas, my whole life was trying to be accepted by “regular Americans” (i.e., white people). I wanted so badly to be American that I fought against what I now see as integral parts of my life. Against my mother’s wishes, I constantly straightened my hair and refused to put oil in it. I begged my parents for sandwiches and pizza for lunch instead of our “weird food.” As you’d reasonably assume, moving to India changed my life. Where earlier I’d been maybe one out of ten total Indians at my school, there were now hundreds of us, and we were all different (imagine that)! I had a friend who wanted to be an artist, and another that literally could not do math. It seems silly that I hadn’t considered the possibility of these differences in great detail before, but to me, at the time, it was liberating. Simultaneously, I also still felt separate from them. I wasn’t really Indian, I was American. And I clung to that for a long time. I didn’t want to be a part of this crowd, a crowd that had been so vehemently stereotyped during my time in Kansas. I wanted to be American, and in India, as an expat, I was closer than I’d ever been. We’re going to fast-forward through some heavy soulsearching and just state that I’m a lot more comfortable in my skin now. I find myself appreciating my Indianness a lot more when I am not surrounded by it (i.e., in America). But I’m afraid sometimes that I’m only appreciating a superficial level of my identity: the level that is palatable to me. I choose the parts that I agree with and enjoy, and leave behind the parts that don’t. Can a person construct an identity this way? Am I bastardizing my culture by attempting to change it to “better fit” me? I don’t know the answers to those questions, but rest assured that I will probably always try to resist categorization. My identity will never be static.

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THEN & NOW A look at protests through time.

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PERSPECTIVE. A COMMENTARY ON THE VARIOUS STRUGGLES PEOPLE OF COLOR ENCOUNTER IN THEIR EVERYDAY LIVES.

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Remember when racial profiling helped anyone with anything? Yeah, neither do I. Unfortunately, the United States' airports aren't realizing this quite yet. Since September 11, 2001, several accusations have brought the country's airports' increased use of racial profiling to crack down on "suspicious" individuals to the public's attention. It is reported that the targeted group of citizens are people who seem to be Middle Easterners or Muslim. It goes without saying, but no one should be subjected to being treated as a criminal because of their religion, race, or appearance. One of the many groups caught in the midst of all of this are Sikhs. Originating in Punjab, an area now bisected by India and Pakistan's border, Sikhism is a monotheistic religion, believing in equality regardless of sex, religion, age, status, sexual orientation, and race. Sikhs are easily identifiable by their turbans, unshorn hair, and kara (steel bracelet). In October of 2010, the Transportation Security Administration (TSA) informed the Sikh American Legal Defense and Education Fund (SALDEF), Sikh Coalition, and UNITED SIKHS that from then on, Sikhs should anticipate their turbans, a highly sacred article of faith, to be always be searched at American airports, even if the passenger has safely passed through the metal detectors or Advanced Imaging Technology (AIT) machines. Not only is this an inconvenience and makes me want to roll my eyes when my brother is asked to pat down his own turban when we're going on vacation, this practice of actively targeting turbans signals Americans and other travelers that my faith's items of identity are "suspicious.â&#x20AC;? Along with creating an unnecessary, subtle case of fear mongering, racial profiling is unhelpful in keeping America more safe than it was before. A study released in Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences in 2009 revealed that due to the large difference between numbers of innocent people to terrorists, racial profiling is in no way more effective than random profiling. In solely focusing on fighting against potentially dangerous attackers, the Free World failed to recognize the millions of citizens devoted to keeping a place they call their own a safe and accepting nation.

By Ishvinder Kaur

The dialogue surrounding African-American hair is long entrenched in our country’s history. Transformed from being described as “wool-like” to nowadays simply too “distracting”, African-American hair is viewed as the unattractive counterpart to smoother, straighter textures. Such negative stereotypes about African-American hair textures are perpetuated further by established ideal beauty standards, and even manifested into various forms of politicising African-American hair. We live in a society where little girls are having their braids cut off by their teachers, or sent home from school for wearing their hair in dreads, because the way they are choosing to express themselves is not appropriate by society’s standards. This ideology is extremely harmful, leading to the establishment of laws under which African-Americans are forbidden to wear their hair in ways that are seen as “unprofessional”. In 2014, the U.S. Army issued a new Appearance and Grooming Policy, banning racialized hairstyles such as twists, cornrows, and dreadlocks. African-Americans face implicit biases against their hair in the workplace, and non-compliance to these tacit regulations can play a role in job discrimination. By Oluwatobi Alawode

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