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.