Junior year of high school, I was driving around with my best friend, depleting both the gas tank and our day. Pulling into the In-N-Out, they turned to me and said, “I found this song—let me just play it.” Innocently, I shrugged. The speaker muttered “My face is the front of shop,” stirring the air…
Featured Art by Shahzaad Raja “I have always thought that if women’s hair posed so many problems, God would certainly have made us bald.” This quote, taken from Marjane Satrapi’s critically acclaimed graphic novel Persepolis, reflects the sentiment of younger Satrapi as she’s forced to navigate the complex prism of childhood while simultaneously growing up…
When I was getting ready to move into my college dorm and leave my lifelong home, all I could think about was the past. All I could think about were the friends I’d probably never see again, my younger sisters that I wouldn’t see grow up, the past that would always remain history. These were…
My mother never liked talking about her childhood. I grew up thinking she was from Los Reyes, Michoacan, Mexico; when I started writing this piece, I learned this was a lie. My mother is actually from Los Pallilos, Michoacan, in other words, el rancho. She describes this place as simple, a simple town with simple…
Despite the few pickup rounds of HORSE I played with my brother circa 2008 and my limited knowledge of Devin Booker and Kendall Jenner’s five minute relationship, my grasp on the game of basketball is scant. I’ve always been attracted to the sport, but I could never put my finger on why it seemed so…
Music and songwriting are crucial pieces of my identity, but as a woman I have begun to feel out of place in the music world. Music did not always feel so gendered. In elementary school, writing songs felt natural; a childish burst of creativity stemming from the same place as the urge to throw mud…
When I was ten years old, I started noticing the shoes boys wore in my class. They wore a mixture of Jordan 3s and 4s and I was envious. I rushed home to ask my dad to buy me a pair, but he refused, claiming they were a boy’s shoe and didn’t suit me. So…
Memories of my childhood feel sweet and hazy. I recall going to the beach for hours on end, collecting seashells and building flimsy sandcastles. I think of my neighborhood friends with whom I’d create elaborate fictional universes, all of us acting as characters in the quiet corners of our cul de sac. I remember the…