My siblings and I have been 

best friends since I can remember. 
Attending the same schools together, 
traveling back and forth between 
our mom’s and dad’s and constantly 
fighting has strongly bonded us. 
Though the three of us were born 
within a three-year period, our 
experiences of identity realization 
have been vastly different. Up until 
2010, we all went to St. Patrick’s 
Catholic School in Joliet, Illinois. 
Despite being in an area with a large 
Latinx — specifically Mexican — 
population, my siblings and I were 
some of the only Latinx students 
in 
the 
entire 
school, 
with 
the 

administration and staff calling us 
the Infamous Quintana Trio. 

My memories of the predominantly 

white school are filled with images 
of my peers and me all dressed in 
white polos and navy blue pants, 
or checkered jumpers and skirts, 
running 
around 
the 
playground, 

attending 
weekly 
morning 
mass 

and hoping that the after-school 
program snack-of-the-day would be 
peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. 
As a child, I didn’t feel or understand 
the social issues surrounding such 
a setting. I enjoyed my time at the 
school and the education they offered 
me — even if I do live with Catholic 
guilt now. Looking back at those 
years, though, I realize that not being 
otherized for my identity at such a 
young age is a great privilege that not 
many children of color experience. 

Since the school was on its way 

toward closure due to a lack of funds, 
every grade had only one designated 

classroom 
and 
teacher. 
From 

preschool to the third grade, the same 
twenty-something of us would travel 
down the hall to the next classroom 
from year to year. In the process of 
writing this article, I began to think 
of the many students in my class 
throughout the years and can vividly 
remember the few students of color. 
I never felt prejudiced or oppressed 
due to my skin color, and I know 
that many other students of color 
cannot relate to the lack of identity 
awareness I experienced.

After talking to my sister about 

St. Pat’s, however, I started to 
understand the privilege associated 
with not being forced to realize you’re 
different from the white people. 
The most important developmental 
period of her life was marked by 
bullying, racism and trauma — while 
for me, this same time was marked by 
joy and naivety. When I first asked 
her if she ever faced oppression 
because of being Mexican at school, 
her immediate response was, “I was 
called a gorilla because of my arms 
in kindergarten. So yes.” After this, I 
began reevaluating these interactions 
more generally. What experiences 
force people of color at a young age 
to understand their identities as 
different or other? Whenever I am 
asked about my time at St. Pat’s, I 
honestly only think of the good times. 
Whether it’s because I didn’t attend 
the school for as long as my sister 
did, or simply don’t remember any 
instances of racism, I wanted to know 
what made my awareness of identity 
surface so much later than hers. 

The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Michigan in Color
Wednesday, October 6, 2021 — 7

Editor’s Note: The author of this article 

is anonymous for fear of professional 
retaliation and to resist the heteronormative 
culture of ‘coming-out.’ In accordance with 
our ethics policy (which can be found in 
full in our bylaws), the Editor-in-Chief and 
Managing Editors of Michigan in Color are 
aware of the author’s identity.

Since its inauguration in 1999, Sept. 23 

concludes a week of pride and awareness 
for those of us who, you know, see on 
both sides as Frank Ocean put it in his 
groundbreaking track “Chanel.” But to be 
honest, this year’s Bisexual Visibility Day 
passed by quite ordinarily — in fact, I may 
have completely missed it. The month 
of June never really held any specific 
importance to me apart from exercising 
my eager allyship to the larger LGBTQ+ 
community because I didn’t quite know 
where I fit in. That and the rampant 
commercialization of Pride deepened my 
hesitation in participating in any form of 
liberating celebration. Nevertheless, this 
past Thursday felt eerily quiet. The first 
tri-colored post appeared on my Twitter 
feed as I was getting ready to go to bed, 
and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss 
in letting Bi Visibility Day slip away from 
me. 

Bi 
Visibility 
Day 
was 
founded 
by 
activists 

Wendy Curry, Michael Page and Gigi 
Raven Wilbur to address marginalization 
faced by the bisexual community and to 
celebrate bi experiences. In addition to 
providing an opportunity to uplift and 
recognize members of the bi community, 
this day of pride is particularly important 
because of bi-erasure, the questioning and 
invalidating of one’s bisexuality to the 
point of de-legitimizing their existence. 
This normalized tendency is perpetuated 
by people within and outside of the 
LGBTQ+ community, and its impact has 
led to detrimental effects for individuals 
who are bisexual. It is a key factor in the 
higher rates of anxiety and depression 
present in bi people as compared to 
gay and lesbian people due to isolation 
from the community at large. Moreover, 
bi-erasure threatens the livelihoods of 
bi people when they are excluded from 
policies that are meant to protect people 
on the basis of their sexual identity. In 
combating bi-erasure, bisexual political 
activism has come a long way in not only 
promoting the LGBTQ+ movement as 
a whole, but also making headway on 
legislative positions and focused support 
systems for the community. Working 
towards bi-visibility within mainstream 
society is an arduous journey, and at the 
individual level, it comes with its own 
unique set of baggage.

LGBTQ+ discourse in the mainstream 

forces the larger community into the 
narrative of a sexual binary: homosexual 
or heterosexual orientation. Bisexual 
identities, as well as trans identities, 

threaten what is accepted as legitimate 
or appropriate queerness. When seeking 
visibility, bisexual people are accused of 
taking up too much queer space. Visibility 
seems like an inappropriate demand 
from a group of people who generally 
have “straight-passing privilege.” But as 
Hannah McCann eloquently puts it in her 
piece for Archer Magazine, “Visibility 
is not about attention, it is about the 
possibility to exist, and to have one’s 
existence recognised.” It’s about not 
feeling the need to neglect, or even hide, a 
part of one’s identity. 

Visibility is complex for those who are 

bisexual, and oftentimes, it entails the 
pressure of constantly having to prove 
our identities to others and to ourselves. 
While some feel burdened with the 
societal expectation to come out, others 
prefer to never explicitly label themselves. 
Regardless of one’s preference to be 
out, visibility is about the possibility to 
exist, and that requires a recognition 
of bisexuality as a valid identity. When 
that recognition doesn’t exist, it’s easy to 
internalize the societal discomfort that 
usually accompanies any orientation that 
is not monosexual. And at that point, 
discomfort and all, I’m not quite sure 
what I’m supposed to be celebrating. 

Am I celebrating the confusion? 

The severe internalized biphobia? The 
isolation? Being bisexual is nuanced in 
every way, and everyone has a different 
journey of discovering — and celebrating 
— who they are. 

For me, Bi Pride is a chance to reflect 

on my own personal growth and draw 
inspiration from those who came before 
me. I wouldn’t be the person I say I am 
if I didn’t take the time to learn about 
individuals 
like 
Lani 
Ka’ahumanu. 

Ka’ahumanu is a feminist writer and 
activist whose work on the bisexual 
movement was published in a national 
lesbian and gay publication for the 
very first time in 1987. Her affirmative 
words encourage me to question why 
I accept invisibility in my own life. For 
Ka’ahumanu, coming out as bisexual 
simply means “I am drawn to particular 
people regardless of gender. It doesn’t 
make 
me 
wishy-washy, 
confused, 

untrustworthy, or more sexually liberated. 
It makes me a bisexual.” Similarly, I take 
pride in Freddie Mercury’s ambiguous 
sexuality despite facing heavy public 
scrutiny. 
His 
lifelong 
commitment 

to avoiding labels entirely and doing 
exactly what he wanted liberates my own 
confusion with self-definition. Diverse in 
their lived experiences, these trailblazers 
give me possibility — I see a tiny part of 
my identity within them, and I salute 
their authenticity.

In retrospect, maybe I do have 

something to celebrate, sitting tucked 
away in my little glass closet. And maybe 
you do, too. The beauty of bisexuality 
comes from its fluidity, and however you 
choose to live that truth is entirely up to 
you. So happy bi pride — whatever that 
may mean to you.

Happy bi pride!

(whatever that means to you)

ANONYMOUS 
MiC Columnist

Design by Udoka Nwansi

UDOKA NWANSI

MiC Columnist

Taking back control with CTRL

Identity awareness

HUGO QUINTANA

MiC Columnist

Read more at MichiganDaily.com

Last year on the morning of my 19th 

birthday, I walked into a tattoo parlor in 
Ypsilanti with only one idea in my mind. 
I greeted my heavily pierced, tattoo-clad 
artist at his station with a small piece of 
paper containing my desired design. He 
looked up at me with a slightly amused 
smile, asking, “Just this?” The paper only 
read four simple letters: Ctrl. A simple 
design for a professional like himself yet 
such an emotionally packed word for me. 
I confirmed the design, and he began the 
process. While casually wiping off the 
mix of blood and ink that trickled down 
my wrist, he jokingly asked me what made 
Ctrl so extraordinary to the point that I 
wanted to have it permanently etched on 
my body. I laughed, before recounting to 
him the story of how I fell in love with this 
album.

When Ctrl was released in 2017, it wasn’t 

initially on my radar. I remember hearing 
“Love Galore,” the second single on the 
album, all over the radio that summer. 
The infectious digitally produced synths 
of the song’s instrumentals coupled with 
the carefree lyrics of the verses and the 
fun syncopation that rapper Travis Scott 
adds to the song quickly made it a favorite 
for me. Still, I never bothered to listen to 
the project in full until a friend of mine 
had posted a raving review of the album 
on her Instagram page. On my first listen 
through the album, I was immediately 
impressed by the production’s brilliance. 
SZA’s ethereal vocals float over the 
electronic R&B instrumentals as she 
builds this world in which she is the main 
character, taking back control of her life 
despite setbacks and inner turmoil.

She 
incorporates 
orchestral 

arrangements and 808 drum beats to 
weave through genres and create her 
own take on the neo-soul sound. The first 
time I listened, I couldn’t relate to much 
of the profoundly personal subject matter 
that SZA had relayed on the album. The 
topics of love, angst and sexuality were 
far too complicated for my 15-year-
old self. However, I knew that I could 
admire a good album when I heard one. 
As I grew older and developed more 
complex feelings about myself and my 
interpersonal relationships, I came to 
appreciate Ctrl even more. 

The album feels almost like a sonic 

diary. There is a deep level of vulnerability 
on each and every song, which I think 
distinguishes Ctrl, her debut studio 
album, from her prior mixtape, Z. SZA 
dives even deeper with Ctrl, uncovering 
the 
uncomfortable 
truths 
about 

womanhood and facing them with a 
tone of boldness. She even goes as far as 
to include recordings from phone calls 
with her mother and late grandmother, 
which serve as interludes throughout the 
album. I find solace in songs like “Normal 
Girl,” which addresses fleeting feelings 
of inadequacy and estrangement. On the 
track, SZA longs for the normalcy that 
comes with being a girl who cleanly fits 
into societal standards. On the chorus, she 
wishes that she were just a “normal girl,” 
while simultaneously acknowledging that 
she will probably 
never 
adhere 
to 
the 
conventional 

guidelines of desirability. This song hits 
very close to home for me because, as a 
Black woman, I understand her as she 
impeccably articulates the feelings of 
frustration and insecurity that can arise 
at the intersection of these identities.

My favorite verse from “Normal Girl” 

is, “This time next year I’ll be living so 
good, won’t remember no pain, I swear.” I 
often find myself in fistfights with feelings 
of imposter syndrome. Whether it be in 
academia, where a majority of my peers 
don’t come from the same background 
as me, or even in social settings, where I 
feel like I stick out like a sore thumb, I’m 
always trying to prove to myself that I am 
where I’m supposed to be. When I hear 
this line, it feels like words of reassurance 
to a future version of myself, a promise 
that these feelings of self-doubt will fade 
with time. While imposter syndrome will 
surely return to me at some point, this 
verse reminds me that no hardship will 
last forever. 

By the end of the brief session, I had 

talked my tattoo artist’s ear off with my 
full dissertation on the beauties of Ctrl. 
As I was leaving, he promised me that 
he would give it a listen. I look forward 
to following up with him when I go back 
to the parlor to get my tattoo touched up 
later this year. I hope he was able to hear 
at least a fraction of the artistry that I do 
whenever I listen to the album. Whether 
it’s sitting in my room, having a cathartic 
cry to “Supermodel” or driving in my car 
yelling the lyrics to “Drew Barrymore” 
with my closest friends, this album is a 
piece of art that carries me through the 
highs and lows in my life. I consider Ctrl 
an extension of my own thoughts — an 
album that puts the most inexplicable 
yet visceral emotions that I feel into 
words. The same melodies and lyrics 
that I’ve heard hundreds of times still 
resonate with me just as deeply every 
time. I’ve grown with this album and my 
experiences are permanently intertwined 
with its narrative. The tattoo that now 
lives on my wrist serves as a physical 
reminder of this.

If you’ve been planning a new 

project or pondering other 

career ventures, now is the time 
to actually explore those ideas 

and get to work. You 

may find romantic interest 
and/or creative inspiration 
in your classes or travels.

You may have been thinking 
about trying new courses or 

studying abroad. Now is the time 
to take action toward those plans. 
 

You may also let go of a creative 
idea that you’ve held onto, but 
you might find that your next 
piece of inspiration turns out 

more fruitful than 

the last.

By Andrew Nakamura, MiC Columnist

As a Gemini, you’re constantly 
exploring different interests and 
maneuvering your personality in 
order to fit in with any crowd. But 

is there something you’ve been 
repressing? Despite this, now is a 
great time to meet new people and 
form both romantic and professional 

relationships.

Venus enters Sagittarius and 

your third house of communication, 
indicating a great time to socialize. 
Use this opportunity to make friends 
and have fun engaging in interesting 

and intellectual conversations.

If you’ve been considering 

pursuing love or signing a contract, 
now is the time to commit. When 
Venus enters Sagittarius and your 
sixth house, you may feel the urge to 
be creative, but you have nowhere to 

channel your energy. You should 

try to implement a creative 
outlet into your schedule.

Although you are certainly not 
lacking any charisma, Saturn’s 

direct station in your seventh house 
of partnerships indicates difficulties 

in finding romantic and/or 

professional relationships. Perhaps 
you should put yourself in others’ 
shoes and assess the best way to 

appeal to them.

When Venus enters your fourth 
house of home and family, use 
this boost in creative energy to 

redecorate your space. This is also a 
good time to talk to your family and 

reconnect with childhood friends. 
You have the power to transform 

your ideas into great pieces of 
work; just set your inhibitions 

aside and start.

You’ve been ruminating on your 

thoughts for a long time, Scorpio. You 

are much more intelligent and articulate 

than you might let on since you are so 
guarded. When your ruling planet Pluto 

stations direct in your third house of 
communication and intelligence, you’ll 

finally get the chance to showcase 
your intelligence in conversations 

and projects.

When Pluto stations direct in your 
second house of possessions, your 
creative pursuits will finally begin 

to manifest. You love to explore 

different future prospects and meet 
new people, and now is a great time 

for that.

Immense creativity and an active 

imagination are some of your 

strongest assets, and Venus’s entrance 

into Sagittarius puts those skills to 
use. With Venus in your tenth house 
of career ambitions, you can bring 
all of your wildest dreams to your 

work. However, when Saturn stations 
direct in your twelfth house you may 

struggle to manifest your creative 

ideas.

You may find creative inspiration 
in technology, social media and/or 
social justice. Aquarians are known 
to have extremely original ideas, so 
use this opportunity to get inspired 

and create something great.

You may have been planning a new 
start, and now is your time to take 

action. You have total control over your 
appearance and your leadership, so be 
confident in yourself and your abilities. 
When Venus enters your twelfth house of 
imagination, your creativity will shine. 
Now is the time to explore any ideas for 

new creative projects.

