I’ve known that I’d like to
become
a
lawyer
someday
for what seems like forever.
Whenever I’m asked where
my love for the law is rooted,
my mind usually goes to one
of three places or all three at
the same time depending on
the conversation I’m having. In
response I tell people:
1. My love for law is rooted in
my identities as a Palestinian,
Muslim, Arab woman, and the
marginalizations that each of
those identities encounters in
white societies. Having been at
the forefront of witnessing and
experiencing what it meant to
carry these identities instilled
in me a desire to commit to
social justice and reform and to
be a part of making the change
my communities want to see on
a legal level.
2. My love for law is rooted
in my hatred of STEM. Ever
since I was young, I knew I
didn’t want to be a doctor or
nurse or engineer despite the
way my siblings were drawn
to these fields. Furthermore,
this became abundantly clear
when it was my English, civics,
economics and social science
classes that kept me engaged all
throughout my pre-university
schooling, and the dread I felt
for my natural science classes
became a norm.
3.
And
sometimes,
only
sometimes, I’ll tell people that
I sealed the deal on law after
watching “Legally Blonde.”
At 13 years old, I fell victim
to
the
chokehold
“Legally
Blonde” seemed to have on its
viewers
after
watching
the
movie for the very first time.
Little did I know, that would be
the first of countless “Legally
Blonde” binge nights or that the
movie would seemingly have
much more of an impact on
me than I would’ve expected.
I finished the movie starry-
eyed, completely in awe of Elle
Woods’s confidence, feistiness
and overall aura. The glitz and
glam and hot pink pantsuits in
combination with the “big-time”
Harvard law degree seemed like
everything I wanted my future
to encapsulate.
However, being closer to a
professional degree now than
I was in middle school, I have
started to increasingly pick
out the faults that the movie
demonstrates.
What
became
increasingly clear is that the
entirety of the movie revolves
around traditional notions of
femininity.
When
we
think
of Elle Woods, we think of an
ultra-feminine figure, almost
as “girly” as one can get.
Throughout the movie, it seems
like the idea that is constantly
reiterated is that to be accepted
in predominantly male fields is
to be ultra-feminine. From her
over-the-top extravagant daily
outfits to her weekly manicure
appointments
and
even
her
pink, scented résumé, her entire
being screams femininity. In
reality, there is a certain level
of femininity that is expected
of women in professional spaces
— whether that is the clothes
they wear, the way they do their
hair or the other ways they
present themselves. Elle Woods
carves a path for herself in the
predominantly male field of
law, but the fact that she is so
extremely feminine seems to be
used as a tool to accomplish this.
Arguably the most iconic scene
in the movie is when Elle busts
the suspect on trial for having
murdered her own father. Elle
makes this breakthrough in
the case because the suspect
claimed that she had gotten a
perm and then went home to
shower, and returned to find
her father shot. Elle, being
extremely sound in all things
beauty-related, quickly pointed
out that the suspect was lying
because the number-one rule
after getting a perm is to avoid
wetting the hair. It’s made
clear that Elle only knew this
information and was able to
make this breakthrough because
she’s so “girly.” I can’t help but
wonder if the same experience
that Elle Woods had would be
the same experience a woman
of color would have, as they
are often not regarded with the
same lens of fragility, femininity
and innocence as white women.
The answer is most probably no.
Michigan in Color
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
8 — Wednesday, October 27, 2021
Design by Frances Ahrens
Read more at MichiganDaily.com
Unpacking ‘Legally Blonde’
REEM HASSAN
MiC Columnist
A journey of change
MARIAM ALSHOURBAGY
MiC Columnist
We would starve if flour didn’t change into bread, and we would
freeze if wood didn’t change into fire. For us who are constantly in
motion, change is inevitable.
But this time it wasn’t
the same kind of change.
As grains of sand chased the wounded wind
Migrating from the desert to this mourning street
Those little grains infiltrating every empty corner
Touched the cold ground and covered its scars
Listened to the wind mourn and dried its tears
Saw the crowd disperse
Then flew away.
As I opened my eyes to cry
The wind carried the sand into my eyes
I shake the grains off
Then cover my eyes and never open them again.
I am allowed to cry when the wind is too strong
I’m allowed to be, allowed to fall, allowed to heal
Before living, confronting, accepting.
I wasn’t ready.
After the careful talk
The worried stares
The quiet concern
I
just
didn’t
care.
But the sand was running out
So I allowed myself a peek
I still wasn’t ready
To open them completely
That smile and kindness aren’t found everywhere
I close my eyes again and feel the familiar scent in the air.
I still wasn’t ready
To let go of those summer days
The hands that held mine
Now lying empty on the bedside.
I’ve walked these streets long enough to know everyone
By name, last name, and addresses
I now fear the day I saw them wearing their black dresses
And I look at them and see my grief mirrored
Their mouths straight and their faces withered.
When will I have the courage to accept this change?
“Everything we did together death did not erase
His name is spoken like it’s a familiar place”
Our life goes on and he’s still in it
One has his smile, one his kindness,
One has his passion, one his dedication, and one his wisdom.
So no, my grandpa’s death wasn’t one of those changes. It was about
the journey of change, one filled with grief and denial, followed by
guidance and realization.
His safe warm hands
Design by Anonymous
Editor’s Note: The author of this
piece has chosen to be anonymous
given the sensitive nature of their
account. 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.
Content warning: sexual assault
The sun beat down through
my opened bedroom window and
warmed my room. Every light in
my room had been on for hours,
increasing the warmth. Clothes
covered every inch of carpet, except
for the 3-foot space in front of my
full body mirror that my dad and I
built together a couple of years prior.
That space was instead covered with
every makeup product I owned.
The brushes lay on the bare carpet,
leaving
small
pink
eyeshadow
marks behind. My phone rested
in the middle of my bed charging,
while it simultaneously played my
November Spotify playlist, repeating
my favorite three songs from it —
one being “Good Habits (and Bad)”
by Saba Lou, a song that made me
reminisce about my childhood due
to the innocent nature of the song.
(The song, which focuses on what
a child considers as bad habits, is
sung and written from a child’s
point of view.) The sun was setting
and it was starting to get dark. I was
already late. I applied my final coat of
mascara while my hand shook from
the excitement that rushed through
my body and the nervousness that
clouded my mind. It was my first
second date, ever. With the same guy
who took me on my first real date,
ever.
Our first date, a week prior, was a
picnic — something we liked enough
to agree to do it as our second date.
The green flags and sweet things he
did on the first date all ran through
my mind: how he helped me climb
in and out of his car through the
driver’s seat door since the passenger
door was blocked by another car;
how he was so understanding when
I told him about the anxiety I get
while driving, and immediately said
that we would only picnic at the park
by my house so that I wouldn’t have
to drive much. How he didn’t change
his mind after realizing it would take
him over half an hour of freeway
driving one-way; how he didn’t get
uncomfortable holding my hand
even though my hand was grossly
sweaty from being so nervous; how
he let me play my music the entire
car ride, even though his music taste
was the complete opposite. And my
favorite: how at the end of the date,
he asked me if he could kiss me
before just going in for it.
I waited in my car at the park,
texting my best friend about how
nervous I was. “What if he ends
whatever this is cuz he doesn’t like
me anymore.” She reassured me,
ending our conversation with our
normal “have fun, be safe <3” text.
When he arrived, he pulled me into
a hug with his warm hands. They
were warmer than mine, something
I hadn’t found with anyone else. But
the warmth was nice and comforting
and made me feel safe. So safe that
my nervousness shifted to a blissful
feeling. So safe that I forgot about
all my other worries to just enjoy
his company. So safe that my eyes
wouldn’t let out a single tear no
matter how much I wanted them to
as he lay on top of me less than an
hour later. So safe that my mouth
wouldn’t let out a single noise no
matter how much I tried to say no.
So safe that my body wouldn’t move
no matter how much I tried to push
him off.
At that moment, I felt numb. I no
longer felt the warmth in his hands.
But I just knew his hands were still
there. I laid in silence, with my eyes
wide open, and emotionlessly stared
at the stars in the sky, even while
he kept kissing me. The extreme
amount of layers I was wearing
didn’t stop him. But worst of all,
neither did I.
To make things worse, I was
so blinded by his attention and
validation that I normalized what
happened to me. I went home that
night and was so worried that he
didn’t want to go out again, that I
failed to realize I didn’t. And when
he texted me the next day about
how the whole night felt off because
we were both just tired, I agreed,
putting some of the blame on myself.
The fact that he was the first guy that
I went on a date with worsened the
entire situation.
He knows what he’s doing. This
is what happens on all other dates.
Maybe he just couldn’t tell I was
uncomfortable. I should’ve said no.
He didn’t do anything wrong. This is
just his way of showing he’s into me.
He’s probably done the same to all the
previous girls, so I should be fine with
it as well.
Read more at MichiganDaily.com
ANONYMOUS
MiC Columnist
By Andrew nAkAmurA, miC Columnist
Your ruling planet Mars
enters Scorpio in your
eighth house of rebirth. You
may have been avoiding an
underlying issue in your life.
However, now is the time to
charge forward and face your
problems head-on.
Mercury in your sixth house
of organization trines Saturn
in your tenth house, which
marks a great time to orga-
nize your office space and
your work files. A cleaner
workspace may help you
become more productive.
Geminis are known for being
very sporadic and energetic,
but this also means you cannot
be contained by a schedule or
deadlines. Mars in Scorpio en-
courages you to rein your zeal
in by placing your absolute
focus on one thing at a time
until you see it to completion.
When Mars enters fellow
water sign Scorpio in your fifth
house of creativity, you will
become deeply immersed in
your creative work. You may
come to some emotional break-
throughs that can fuel your
creative process.
Mars transitions into Scorpio
in your fourth house of home
and family, which indicates
that your relationships with
your family and childhood
friends may suddenly become
much closer. Now is a good
time to reach out and ask them
how they’re doing.
Virgos are always great com-
municators and meticulous lis-
teners, and Mars in Scorpio is
about to bring this intensity to
the next level. Now is a great
time to strike up a conversa-
tion with just about anyone in
order to gain some valuable
insight.
Now is a great time to get to
know people on a much deep-
er level and evaluate your
compatibility in a relation-
ship. If you’re currently in a
relationship, this is a great
opportunity to deepen your
relationship even further.
This is a great time to start a
creative project or pursue an
intellectual idea. Now is also a
great time to resolve any linger-
ing conflicts you may have
with yourself or others. While
conflict resolution may be dif-
ficult, you will feel incredibly
invigorated if every problem
is fixed.
When Mars enters Scorpio in
your twelfth house of subcon-
sciousness, you may feel a lot
more passionate about your
creative pursuits. Sagittarians
enjoy chasing many different
desires, but this is the time to
commit to one idea and see it
through.
At this time, you may really start
to deepen your bond between
friends you didn’t view as close
before. You could unearth a lot of
their virtues and desires, which
may allow you to gain incredibly
wise insights to apply to your own
life. You may feel pressured to hide
away parts of yourself in order to
appeal to others, but you
shouldn’t be afraid to be
yourself.
When Mars enters Scorpio
and your tenth house of career
ambitions, you will dig deep
in order to find clarity in your
professional goals. Are you
satisfied with your current
life path? Do you see yourself
pursuing this career for the rest
of your life?
Mars transitions into Scorpio
and your ninth house of phi-
losophy, which means that your
mind is going to become much
more focused on your education.
Pisceans are very imaginative
and curious, and now is a great
time to feed your curiosity by
pursuing an intellectual topic
you feel passionate about.