Issue 11

Letter from the Editor

When I was in elementary school, I really liked to run. I liked to run, and I liked to run fast.

It was fourth grade when I was chosen to be the runner for my class in the 100 yard dash during field day that year. Upon receiving this news, my dad and I trained for weeks and weeks, in preparation for an approximately twenty second race. Finally, the big day arrived. My adrenaline and I lined up in our lane, waited for the gun to sound, and when it did, I instantly slipped and fell on the hard rubber track.

Hours later, my classmates would tell me that they “thought it was over” at that crucial moment, but the thing is: I won that race. I had managed to get up from the fall, looking ahead to the sprinters before me, and the next thing I knew, I was breaking through the tape of the finish line, propelled by ridiculous momentum. I would then turn around to face a crowd of fourth graders, silly with celebration, who were all, for some reason, looking at me.

Years later, my family and old classmates still remember this race despite its seeming insignificance in the grand scheme of things. This, to me, is curious and makes me wonder what it is about stories like these that have the ability to inspire and compel athletes and non-athletes alike. Or about heartbreak that yet makes us dream of love someday; about warm days in the city that makes its inhabitants come out to the streets to laze about in parks for hours, eat every meal on any stoop or rooftop they can find.

It’s the comeback.

It’s scoring the game-winning touchdown after an injury earlier on in the game; meeting someone indescribably special; surviving the bone-shattering cold of northern winters for that first day the ice starts to thaw and you don’t regret forgetting your scarf at home. In a social climate that begs us to believe that we ought to know nothing but insurmountable defeat, it is important, now more than ever, to look to the parts of our world that remind us that we can indeed rise again. The theme for Issue 11 of Embodied is “Print is Dead,” and it takes a look at the ways in which print and other tangible forms of media and entertainment are not only enjoying a revival but are profoundly resonating with our generation. This issue is also dedicated to Interview Magazine, the beloved, brilliant arts and culture magazine founded by Andy Warhol that championed creative thinking, eccentricity, and the vivacity of pop culture. And after an unpromising tumble this past summer, Interview has since gotten back up with renewed effervescence to continue their story.

This kind of comeback is similar to Simi Iluyomade’s in her piece titled “For Colored Girls” in which she recounts a childhood of self-hatred towards her appearance in relation to her African identity but proclaims a declarative journey towards self-love. In “The Rise of Bubble_T,” Zach Berger tells us about Bubble_T, the queer “slaysian” dance party traversing across parts of Brooklyn that’s serving as an electric reinvigoration of New York City nightlife but most importantly as a venue for the queer Asian community to reclaim their joy and expression in a safe and celebratory space.

Our hearts further warm to the interviews given by four couples in “On Love and Music,” a sweet ode to the endearing romance of sending or receiving music playlists from a crush or significant other. Lola Proctor writes eloquently about Fashion Climbing: A Memoir with Photographs, the memoir about iconic street photographer Bill Cunningham’s life and career. Proctor remembers his legacy in “Fashion Climbing: Bill Cunningham” and all the ways in which he has inspired and revered authenticity in fashion and the arts.

Rebellion is a signature component of what it means to be a part of the youth generation. It’s a rebellion laced with unabashed conviction in our power to change the tides of tradition, challenge the status quo, and resist the confining norm of the times, showing them as capable of being transformed. Issue 11 is about resurgence, about getting back up again, and is our rallying cry that print is not dead.

- Kaylee Warren