by Dani Cooke
If you’re anything like me, you’re not exactly well-known for your spontaneity. Some may call you neurotic; others prefer gentler terms such as “high-strung” or “ball of stress.” But that doesn’t mean we can’t have fun, right? I mean, I got out of a car without stopping fully once on the Pearl Street mall and got yelled at by a park ranger. One of my most-listened-to playlists on Spotify is all about the Riot Grrrl movement. I got an infraction for being forty seconds late to school. If that isn’t badass, I don’t know what is.
(Okay, there are a lot of things more badass than this. But, in the words of comedian and twitter queen Aparna Nancherla, “Any bus can be a party bus if you are prepared to let people down with your idea of what ‘fun’ is.”)
For those of us who are more inclined toward the timid, letting loose becomes a task in and of itself. Being a little bit rebellious is something we begin to frame in our minds as a pass-fail endeavor. For the sake of all of our shoulder muscles, I’ve compiled this list of mildly rebellious experiences in the hopes that we can feel a bit more at ease with ourselves and let go some of this tension we so tightly carry.
◦ Sit in a coffee shop to do homework — without buying anything.
◦ Draw someone with tattoos and piercings.
◦ Teach yourself to do something edgy teens do in ‘80s movies, like playing pool or having an absurd fashion sense.
◦ Swear in your own personal journal.
◦ Listen to incredibly loud music in a designated quiet space, such as a library… through your headphones.
◦ Tell that stranger on public transit that you think they’re pretty.
◦ Wear funky socks, earrings, etc.
◦ Climb a tree.
◦ Dance around in your room… with the blinds open.
◦ Paint an old t-shirt or pair of jeans you planned on throwing out anyway.
◦ Take a slightly different route than usual on your way to work, your home, school, et cetera.
◦ Make an artsy kind of mess.
◦ Sketch out tattoos you’ll likely never end up getting.
◦ Design the tag you would use if you were to become a street artist. (Or, to take it one step further, create graffiti [inside a public building, so as not to litter] using sticky notes.)
◦ Say almost every day with confidence that you plan on dropping out of school, every day becoming a bit ◦ more serious until, on the day you graduate, you leave high school behind and move on toward better things.
◦ Be kind to people who aren’t kind to you in return.
◦ Make friends that scare you. (i.e. Insanely outgoing people, “dancing barefoot in the rain” kinds of people.)
◦ Be a “dancing barefoot in the rain” kind of person.
And, if all else fails, know you’re not alone. If everyone was a wild child, no one would have given it a jazzy nickname. (And life is a lot more fun with jazzy nicknames.)
by Zak Sexton
Testosterone, also known as “T”, is the hormone that primarily male-bodied people produce. Transgender people are able to take hormonal therapy. This means that every week, a transgender boy will give him a shot of testosterone, typically in the leg. As a transgender boy, I have thought a lot about taking hormonal therapy. Until recently, I was excited to turn 18 to be able to start taking T (you can take it earlier only with parental consent) to appear more masculine in my face and body frame.But I found out almost a week ago that I cannot take testosterone — ever.
This is because I suffer from hypothyroidism, a thyroid condition in which the thyroid believes that all of your organs are hurting your body and tries to slowly destroy your organs. I have been taking medication for this for almost five years, so it never seemed to affect me. I went to get some bloodwork done to see if my hormone levels were normal, and in this my doctor concluded that if I were to take testosterone, my thyroid would kill me more quickly. My thyroid would start to destroy my bloodstream, my organs, and soon after, my brain. Taking T would kill me. And, coming out as trans has been quite a journey already. From being told I am not the definition of a man by a close family member to starting hair growth treatment on my face, this journey has been one for the better and worse. Although will never be able to take testosterone, I am still doing what I can to continue my transition.
by Titan Mikuta
There once was a girl, plagued with despair
She saw blue in her life and grey in the air
Demeanor of stress
Her grit to the test
In love with a world that didn’t even care.
Was she even there?
Dancing in their heads,
The thought of the opposite filled her with dread
Sitting there trying to put doubts to their beds.
Yet shout did her head,
That nobody cared
Desperately wishing she wasn’t so scared.
With a lake in mind, she ran from the town
Peering to the water, she saw herself with a frown
Desperately hoping the world would look down.
On a girl like her.
Slowly she realized this world wasn’t hers
Not the pines, the oaks, the maples, the firs
The fawns or fish or even the birds
The dawns, the mist, the people, her curse.
So there she sat, and wept for a while,
Until the rain poured down, peaking her smile
The mother called earth had looked down on her daughter
Realizing she sent her own lamb to the slaughter
Full of pity and sadness and sore lack of laughter
Seeing the girl she had failed to look after.
So there they both sat, and wept for a while
Until mother earth saw a new fate for her child
Spirals of bark and branches enveloped,
Washed away the sadness that she had developed
Her curls to vines
A body divine
Mother earth happy, and she, overzealous
So when the rain comes it seems not to matter
For people around silence their chatter
Watching the willow
Watching it weep
Watching the rain fall down to her leaves.