City Magazine 2015

FALL 2015

ADRIAN

NOVOTNYSCARSANDSPIRITUALITYPG.14

THE PRICEOF A NAME

PG.12

ACCIDENTAL DJ

PG.18

ART OF THE LIVING

CANVASPG.4

MAGAZINE

Dear Readers,

A fter a couple of years of limiting ourselves to stories based directly here at LBCC, we

out into our amazing community. It’s been a long year holding down the position of Editor in Chief, striving to put out the best magazine possible. Hard to believe that my supreme rule is coming to an end.

As dif cult as this production run has been, it would not have been possible without the new tal-ents and great efforts of our small groups of writers, editors, graphic designers and photographers, and the guidance of our advisers Morgan Barnard, Sean DuFrene and Cindy Frye. My tyrannical predeces-sor, Katie Cortez, implemented special assignments for the writing class last year, and I liked them so much, I forced my writers to do the same. Do I feel bad about it? Hell no, and the ones who stuck it out are, I think, better writers for it. They pumped out some well-written, interesting, and even some inspirational stories. Thank you all.

Now, our editors had it the worst, hands down. Being stuck in a classroom with me for three hours at a time, twice a week, is no easy task. At times an overly-aggressive, loud, foul-mouthed dick, might be how they describe me. I agree, mostly, but they put up with me and got through the grueling edit-ing process.

Eliza, what can I say, her editing prowess was second to none and she womanned the hell out of that computer as my copy editor. Angela, fact checker extraordinaire, kept us away from GFEs (gross factual errors). Jon, I really just don’t know what to say … snack king (second to me, of course) and his incessant sarcasm kept us on our toes. Bar-ry, always good for a fresh perspective to offset all of us young whippersnappers. Nicole, those head-lines though! Brilliant. Nicholai, always so damn laid-back, even when he disagreed with some edits and made great suggestions himself. Very impres-sive. Last, but certainly not least, our honorary edi-tor Jacob Rosborough—he didn’t have to be here, but he came almost every day (usually pretty late) because he wanted to learn. If more students had that mentality, well, the world might not be a better place, but teachers would be stoked.

This publication is a solid eight years older than I am. It has been running since 1979, and though next semester brings big changes, I am sure it will be running for many years to come.

I hope the articles you read here open your eyes to the world around you. Interesting stories are everywhere, so get off your damn phone and take them in.

Cheers, Long Beach,Brandon E Richardson, Editor in Chief

Editor in Chief:Brandon E Richardson

Chief Copy Editor:Eliza de la Flor

Staff Writers:Arieel AlcarazEliza de la FlorAngela MartoriJon PeacockBrandon E RichardsonJacob RosboroughBarry SaksSylvana UribeChris WedderburnNicholai Whiticar

Editors:Angela MartoriJon PeacockJacob RosboroughBarry SaksNicole UkwuNicholai Whiticar

Photographers: Joseph CarilloCarmen CastroBria ColeThereLee E. FairAshley GuevaraKathryn Van KirkPhyllis MillerJazmine NevarezJay Pangan IIIBrandon E RichardsonDarline RodriguezRay Shine

Graphic Design

Art Director:Alfonso Pena

Assistant Art Directors: Sameun NhimRoozbeh M Shahbazi

Production Manager:Amy Park

Photo Coordinator:Gen Aguilar

Designers:Gen AguilarJeff BabbittMyles BarksdaleMaria DiazNaomi FergusonElizabeth GonzalezAshley GuevaraVladimir HerreraFelipe LiraCarolina MejiaAnthony MyersSameun NhimEduardo OviedoAmy ParkAlfonso PenaDeja RossEdgar SalazarRoozbeh ShahbaziRay ShineJerome Yang

Advisers:Morgan BarnardSean DuFreneCindy Frye

Long Beach City College4901 E. Carson St.Long Beach, CA 90808

Tel 562.938.4111lbcc.edu

EDITOR’S LETTER

Printed ByQueen Beach Printers, Inc.

decided to broaden our horizons and branch

FALL 2015 CITY MAGAZINE 1

Pub Crawling the Night Away11 Bars, 23 Beers, 6 Shots, Oh My!pg.2

The Ink Mystique History Etched in Skinpg.4

6 Tips to Survive a Zombie ApocalypseWhat your teachers never told you about surviving a zombie apocalypsepg.6

Music With a MissionMax Lo wants to make historypg.8

Yoga Class Bends the NormLBCC teacher’s progressive class provides grounding and claritypg.10

TABLE OF CONTENTS

The Price of a NameService club concerned with possible backlashpg.12

Soldier, Sun Dancer, and ScholarAdrian Novtny’s Journey from Vietnam to Native American Spiritualitypg.14

Invisible ScarsStudent veterans living with PTSDpg.16

A Man by Many Other NamesLBCC Student Christopher Behrick is DJ Smuckers pg.18

Hair Ties and Heavy MetalLBCC women defy gender roles in male-dominated trade classpg.20

To be or not to be: The Lives of CosplayersCosplayers give a glimpse into their experiencespg.22

A Peek into the PastBehind the scenes of Long Beach history pg.24

Pumpkin Cinnamon RollsA Fall Favorite pg.26

Psuedo ConnectivityVirtual reality is overtaking people’s Lives pg.28

Page 18

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Page 8

Page 2

2

Y JOURNEY BEGINS with a group of friends at the V Room on 4th Street. I open the door and the rst

thing I notice are prowling cougars and bik-ers donning their colors. Tossing back brews at the bar or shooting pool, everyone seems to t right into place. After nishing two Heinekens and a friend’s offensively sweet chocolate martini, we head out.

Next comes The Stache Bar, right across from the V Room. The sign nearly unread-able and the door awkwardly offset. With bar seating, tables, and a pool table, it seems like a nice, relaxed hang-out bar. The beer menu is written on a mustache-shaped chalkboard behind the bar, lled with a unique selection. I opt for an Almanac Sour beer, which, to my surprise, tastes exactly like Sour Patch Kids. My friend, however, describes her drink as dirty pipe water. We play pool until we decide to head two blocks down to The Red Room.

On our way to The Red Room, we decide on a quick trip to a McDonald’s where we meet a guy who continually badgers us for

weed. We leave him disappointed.At The Red Room we all sit at the bar.

Jukebox blasting, shoulder-to-shoulder crowd, awkwardly-placed pool table, skate-board decks lining the walls, and skateboard-ing videos on the TVs, create a gnarly vibe. However, one of my favorite things about it is the $3.50 Pabst Blue Ribbon tall cans.

Continuing up the street to Fern’s, three lo-cals on skateboards start to harass us, yelling at us to “get the fuck out of Long Beach.” One of the harassers yanks off his shirt and

confronts Brandon Richardson, editor in chief of this publication, while Richardson is taking photos. Richardson, being told to get the fuck out of Long Beach again, simply responds, “Dude, I’m from Long Beach.” Shortly after, a cop car drives by and the harassers scatter down a nearby street,

MStory by: Jon PeacockPhotos by: Brandon E Richardson

11 BARS, 23 BEERS, 6 SHOTS, OH MY!

“Everyone is acting friendly with thebiggest of smiles and the highest of


one of them yelling, “I have a warrant!” Bit of a buzzkill.

We head into Fern’s and it’s fairly busy and lled with very intoxicated individuals. Richardson continues taking pictures, and is once again confronted by a man yelling at him, “If I’m in that picture I’m gonna break your fucking camera!” Yes, he was indeed in the picture, due to his epic photobombing skills—no, he didn’t break his fucking camera. We leave, but not before Richardson slowly nishes his beer.Farther down 4th Street at Ashley’s, a folk

band performs, people drink, simple as that.We cross the street to the last bar of the

night, the Pike Restaurant and Bar. The seem-ingly smaller bar is packed with 20-some-thing-year-old hipsters. Everyone is acting friendly with the biggest of smiles and the highest of ves.

After a couple of beers, I head outside to wait for my ride home. At this point I am 11 beers, ve shots, and half an underwhelm-ing martini deep from the six-bar crawl—I am shitfaced.

Here ends bar crawl number one: the “re-laxed” attempt.

I start the next bar crawl where I left off—the Pike Restaurant and Bar—for a pint of PBR. Almost just the way I left it, guys with beards fill about 60 percent of this popular bar.

Next comes Ashley’s and a pint of Stella. The dive is fairly empty and dead, with the exception of a few very drunk local patrons. One, nicknamed Cricket, talks to me for 45

minutes about how he “knows what Long Beach is” and how inner-city kids need to go to camp. He almost is as passionate as he is drunk.

Leaving Ashley’s, I arrive back at the scene of the rst bar crawl’s disturbance—Fern’s. Now instead of being lled with drunk peo-ple, it is not lled at all. So, after one Rolling Rock, I head out to The Red Room, where a group of young women sing Toto’s “Africa” loudly in a corner, people crowd the bar, and two pairs play pool.

Chantal, one of the pool players and a bartender at Fern’s, explains the reason for my encounter outside Fern’s is that it’s a

“locals-only type place.” Chantal is with a guy called The Prophet, who reads people’s palms. As I head out, The Prophet burps and says, “You can quote me on that.” So I did.

I arrive at The Stache Bar and notice it’s a bit busier than last time. I look to my left and see The Prophet walk through the door. He starts telling everyone that I am writing an article about bar crawling in Long Beach, so I pound my $4 Michelob Ultra and cross the street to the V Room, where nothing has changed except my sobriety.

I head toward Broadway Street and into a bar called Broadway Cocktail Lounge, lled with multiple gay couples, people playing pool, and karaoke singers. I notice that it seems to be very gay-friendly; however Patrick, a bartender there, corrects me, saying, “It’s not gay-friend-ly, but straight-friendly.” He explains parts of Broadway are known as the “gayetto.”

I start my mile-long jog toward Pine Street. I walk into an upscale restaurant and bar called The Federal Bar, which used to be a bank. The bar is lled with a younger, well-heeled crowd. I drink a beer. I leave.

Next comes Shannon’s, which I immediately notice is a bro bar. So after drinking one beer I leave.

The Dubliner is by far the busiest bar I have been to yet. Live music is blasting and crowds of people are constantly shifting. To get to the bar I need to bob-and-weave through different groups. After one beer, whose name escapes me, I tire of being bumped into so I head next door to the nal stop—Sgt. Pepper’s.

Sgt. Pepper’s is doing last call when I ap-

proach, so I quickly buy a beer and down it.After 11 bars, 14 beers and a shot, I walk

northbound toward my ride home. I attempt to piss in an alley (which seemed like a good idea at the time). A passing cop car ashes its lights on me and I hear a quick siren. I stumble hur-riedly across the street and nd my ride home.

Here ends bar crawl number two: the repeat and double.

After being confronted by locals and told to “get the fuck out of Long Beach,” meet-ing The Prophet, and being informed about the “gayetto,” I can say, no matter where in Downtown Long Beach you drink, you’ll have a memorable experience.

V Room

V RoomThe Stache Bar

The Stache Bar

Sgt. Pepper’s

The Red Room

The Red Room

Fern’s

Fern’s

Ashley’s

Ashley’s

The Pike Bar

The Pike Bar Broadway Cocktail Lounge Federal Bar Shannon’s The Dubliner

Crawl 2: The Repeat and Double

Crawl 1: The “Relaxed” Attempt

Story by: Jacob RosboroughPhotos by: Joseph Carrillo

History Etched in Skin

T heir elaborate designs often catch our eye. Many we recognize, such as dragons, Mickey Mouse, and Avatar: The Last Airbender. With

others their tales are as old as humanity itself, repre-senting cultures from around the world. No one place can claim the origins of the art of the living canvas, but at Long Beach City College we can travel the world by simply walking through a hallway.

“I embrace my cultural heritage with a Foo Dog, a deity in Chinese culture,” said Clinton Nguyen, 22, a chemical engineering major at LBCC. In some Asian traditions it is known as the companion of Buddha, a protector and defender of the law. “There are many different representations of the creature, but this is the one that best describes me and it keeps me on point just by knowing it’s there with me at all times.”

According to the BBC documentary “Beyond Ink,” tattooing has been practiced for many centuries. For

example, it has been part of Japanese culture since at least the 5th century for beauti cation, magic, and protection. But, due to British influence, the Japa-nese government saw tattooing as subversive and outlawed body art in the 1870s, driving the prac-tice underground.

As a result, the Japanese gangster class, the Yakuza, embraced it with elaborate designs show-ing colorful and exotic depictions of life and death in the most vivid terms.

Edward Zwanziger, 38, a geology major at LBCC, found inspiration in a Bible verse for a tattoo that encompasses his life struggles. “‘Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.’ That in itself is the culmination of my years of drug addiction and when I survived those many trials and tribulations of that life and giving in to a new way of thinking,” he said enthusiastically. He went on to explain that the body art depicts that time of his life and “cemented it in my brain and body what I needed to become.”

During the Crusades in the 11th and 12th cen-turies, warriors and knights would brand their chests with the cross of Jerusalem before or after battle. The brand showed devotion to their faith and allowed them to receive proper Christian burials. “Tattoos are symbolic around the world in many different ways,” said LBCC anthropology professor Dr. Adrian Novotny.

“The tattoos have become a part of military life.”

- Gus Orozco, LBCC student

THEMYSTIQUE

and Bria Cole

4

“Some warriors must earn their artwork by proving themselves in battle.”

Moving forward to modern times, “Martin Hildeb-randt set up a permanent tattoo shop in New York City in 1846 and began a tradition by tattooing sailors and military servicemen from both sides of the Civil War,” according to pbs.org.

The golden age of tattoo in America was during and after World War II due to many servicemen return-ing home and adopting patriotic tattoos. According to Chuck Eldridge of the Tattoo Archive founded in Berkeley, Calif. and now in Winston-Salem, North Car-olina, the trend continues to this day.

“There are so many units, divisions, and groups of friends in the U.S. military. The tattoos have become a part of military life. Many people get them to represent people and places they gained and lost in the course of service,” said LBCC Student Trustee Gus Orozco,

a nine-year veteran of the U.S Army and reserve drill sergeant. He continued to say that the people he served with are like his brothers and sisters, and that is the reason he has so many tattoos to represent them. “I would not be who I am today without those people I met and still meet on a daily basis.”

Despite its acceptance in the military, until recent-ly, the fashion industry would have shunned or even demonized permanent body art.

“It’s all about image and the designer and what they want to portray,” said De Jesus Cordon, a fashion design major and LA Fashion Week coordinator for ve years. “From what I’ve experienced, sometimes they will cover it up with makeup or tell the photographer to edit it out in post, but many still see it as the urban look and they do not want that.” On the other hand, Cordon said, because of magazines and websites that embrace the so-called urban look, industry stan-dards are changing.

With the vast history behind tattooing and its ev-er-changing social stigma, it will be interesting to see where the ink takes us.

“Some warriors must earn their artwork by proving

themselves in battle.”- Dr. Adrian Novotny, anthropology professor at LBCC


6

WHAT YOUR TEACHERS NEVER TAUGHT YOU ABOUT SURVIVING A ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE

rain-hungry, monstrous, walking dead, infected, stupid, inhuman: zombies. Or, as Dianne from “Shaun

of the Dead” described them, “Just look at the face: it’s vacant, with a hint of sadness. Like a drunk who’s lost a bet.”

The idea of zombies in cinema—the walking dead, extreme virus epidemic vic-tims, voodoo curses—has been around since the 1930s. Yet, it never seems to go out of style. Probably because everyone is thinking to themselves, “Holy shit, this could really happen someday ... maybe …”

But what if it does? How would a person survive something like that? Sure, the rich can make a pretty good run at it, assuming they spend their money on making their homes impregnable fortresses, since they won’t be able to outrun the bloodthirsty undead with their classic rich guts. What about people without money? What about the average college student?

---- ----

RGuns and ammoRBlunt and/or sharp objectsRFood and water, plus other survival

supplies to lastRKnowledge of your cityRFitnessRStreet smartsRBook smartsRMacGyver smarts (Rubber band,

toilet-paper roll, paper clip, and duct tape. What do you do?)

HAVE A PLAN AND

KNOW YOUR AREAYou’ve been told from an early age to have an exit plan from your home in case of re or earthquake, so why shouldn’t you have one for a zombie apocalypse? Plan it out. But you must also know your area. Know the vulnerable spots around you to avoid dead-ends, dark alleys, endless elds with nowhere to run and nowhere to hide, build-ings with ridiculous oor plans and only one way to escape. The list goes on. If you nd yourself in places like those, just quit.

Story by: Brandon E Richardson

BE MODERATELY FIT No, you don’t have to do CrossFit every day of the week and post pictures of it on your Insta-gram hourly, nor do you have to be able to run 10 miles in one hour. But come on, if it comes down to a person who is relatively t or a total fatty, who do you think is going to get caught by zombies rst? Colombus said it best in "Zombieland," "Cardio. When the zombie outbreak rst hit, the rst to go, for obvious reasons, were the fatties."

“Seriously, steal a fuckinghouseboat.”

Illustration by: Edgar Salazar and Ashley Guevara


GAIN ACCESS TO AS MANY

WEAPONS AS POSSIBLE ‘But Brandon, guns are expensive!’ Yeah, I know. Poor college students can still make friends, right? Buddy up to a right-wing gun nut. Politics won’t matter when the world is coming to an end, so put your stu-pid, hippie ego on the backburner. Base-ball bats, large knives, maybe a little Casey Jones action with hockey sticks, cricket bats and golf clubs? All these things can be cheap, or even free, if you know where to look. It won’t matter to the zombies if you are beating them with a top-of-the-line, titanium golf club, or a mini-golf putter.

STOCK UP ON SUPPLIESWhen a majority of people are zombies, you can bet your ass that the production of just about everything will stop. Food, clean water, batteries, basically anything that will come in handy will not be in production anymore. Walmart, Costco, Sam’s Club, buying cheap and in bulk is underrated. Non-perishables only—canned or dried goods so it won’t go bad, ya dig? Come on, we all eat MSG-infused Cup of Noodles and Top Ramen anyways. ‘But Brandon, I still can’t afford it!’ Then when shit goes down, you better be the rst one looting the local grocery stores. Or just start stealing little by little now—your call. Also, guess who’s running out of food rst? Vegans. Sorry, not sorry, all you supercool and edgy college kids out there, but as Tallahassee said in “Zombieland,” “Time to nut up or shut up.”

STEAL A HOUSEBOATSeriously, steal a fucking houseboat. Can you think of a safer place to wait this out? The owner is probably already a zombie anyways, so what’s the big deal? And if I had to guess, based on movies, zombies aren’t strong swimmers. Plus, it’s mobile.

DON’T BE A HORROR-MOVIE CLICHÉWatching most horror movies, I nd myself thinking, “What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you doing that?!” People, who inevitably will become victims, due to their own stupidity, will run to the second oor of a house they aren’t familiar with, search dark and “deserted” places, put their weapon down in situations that seem slightly safe, shoot a zombie once and assume that it’s dead … this list can go on forever. Don’t be that person. Don’t be a cliché, dumb-ass.

bviously, no plan is perfect. Shit happens. Things go awry. Mistakes are made in the heat

of the moment. Life’s hard. And clearly, there is no guarantee of survival no matter what you do. But, hey, a solid plan never killed anyone, and college

students are the future, right? Just remember the words of wisdom from Co-lumbus, “It’s amazing how quickly things can go from ‘bad’ to ‘total shit-storm.

Max Lo wants to make history

His skin is inked with tattooed writings, pictures, and designs, and sometimes he wears a crystal on a chain around his neck, an embodiment of

art and creativity. You might think this guy is a little out there, but really, he is down-to-earth.

As a music producer and artist, Maxwell Dayton Lough, or Max Lo in the music world, is on a mission to create music and spread it everywhere he goes. You can feel his vibes through his music, with sound frequencies that might send a chill up your spine or simply make you want to get down and dance. His vibration also is felt through the positive aura of his person. He has a jolly laugh that goes right along with his warm and engaging personality.

Walking into Max Lo’s home studio is like entering a den of inspiration. Nearly every square inch of the walls is covered by colorful paintings, creating a trippy atmosphere to zone out and unleash his subconscious beat-making skills. Here, he nds his creative ow and can focus on the task at hand, whether it be cutting a sample, making a bass line, or jamming on his guitar.

The artist describes his style as “a hip-hop, groovy,

reggae-type sound. I want to be versatile, like, where I’m known for my own sound, but you can still come to me for whatever kind of track.”

Max Lo always is trying to keep his music fresh. “Every time, I’m trying to explore new realms of whatever I’m doing, whether it be tweaking the reverb differently, or adding something new. I’m always searching for new sounds and samples. Like, when I do sampling, I’ll sample the fucking weirdest shit, like, I sampled some 1940s Catholic chant shit the other night, some old Russian orchestra shit, like, French pop music from late ‘70s, early ‘80s.”

Long Beach rapper D-Haze said, “He takes his music so seriously and actually loves it and that’s what really inspired me to work with him and get to know him as a friend.”

From an early age Max Lo was surrounded by the love of music. His uncles played guitar and piano, and everyone in his family was a sort of “music connois-seur.” He was exposed to a wide array of music, from reggae to oldies, and, of course, hip-hop. He saw music as something people enjoyed and he start-

Max Lo makes beats in his studio.

8

usic with a mission

Story by: Nicholai WhiticarPhotos by: Joseph Carrillo

“Sometimes when I’m making beats , chopping a sample or playing drums, I’ll close my

eyes and just drift off. It’s like a meditative, spiritual thing.”

- Max Lo

ed playing guitar around age 10. Born in Ventura County and raised in Long Beach, the budding musician was influenced by local artists such as reggae-rock band Sublime.

Max Lo moved with his family to Warren in north-eastern Ohio. There, he started getting into making beats. “I nonstop fed my mind on that software knowledge for a very long time, like, I kind of locked myself in a room when I was 17, and I really haven’t stopped since then.”

A few years later, Max Lo’s professional career began. Working at a recording studio, as an engineer in Ohio, he honed his beat-making skills and started working with artists from Cleveland. “There’s an artist called Ray Cash and he got on my beat one night at the studio. Ever since then I got that little taste of someone that has been heard by millions of people.”

At 22, Max Lo moved to Texas and picked up a Southern feel in his music. In Austin, he linked up with two rappers and started the hip-hop group Soulfresca. He said being exposed to so many different cultures nationwide rubbed off, fed his creativity, and contin-ues to do so.

“It’s a freedom thing. It’s a get-in-touch-with-your-self type of thing. It’s de nitely a freethinking type of thing,” he said. “Sometimes when I’m making beats, chopping a sample or playing drums, I’ll close my eyes and just drift off. It’s like a medi-tative, spiritual thing.”

Stephanie Elise, Max Lo’s manager in Texas, said, “There’s nothing out there that can compare to such a unique and refreshing sound. Connecting with Max’s music is experiencing history in the present. You can’t help to want to be a part of it.”

Currently, at 27, Max Lo is “working on cover-ing the Cali area.” He said, “I want to touch people everywhere. I’m trying to walk the globe and have people hear my shit everywhere.” He is working in Long Beach with his “homie” and fellow artist named Cadenza, originally from Jamaica. He also keeps in touch with artists all over the country and makes beats for them long distance.

“I’m a people person and I’ll go right up to some-one and I can catch someone’s frequency or vibe off them,” Max Lo said. “It’s easy to find the inner-cir-cle of any place you go to and that’s pretty much what I try to do.”

When talking about what he’s most proud of, Max Lo said, “My number one accomplishment is seeing a whole big fucking room of people going insane to my music. That’s the best feeling. Like, money’s cool, but seeing people feeling a groove you made, like, when I zone out and make a beat, then I see people moving to that moment I had here in the studio, you know that’s dope.

“My number one goal is to make history. I don’t wanna make money or anything. I just want that life-long historical, like Beethoven. He didn’t care, he just fucking played his piano and he’s like an asshole, but you still know about him to this day.”

maxlomakesbeats.com

Max Lo with tools of his trade


10

His 6-foot-8-inch, 250-pound muscular frame streaks toward the basket and soars through the

air. LeBron James is working on his slam dunks during an early morning practice. By late afternoon, however, you might catch him upside-down in a headstand or bent over in a downward dog.

According to Men’s Health Magazine, James and many other professional athletes such as NFL quarterbacks Russell Wilson and Aaron Rodgers, and NBA forwards Kevin Love and Kevin Garnett, utilize yoga as a key component of their mental and physical training. These accomplished athletes practice yoga to increase their exibility and strength, as well as to

improve their breathing, balance, and joint health. Yoga also helps to train their minds by developing their body awareness and mental calmness, which can reduce their overall stress.

According to medindia.net, yoga began 26,000 years ago. The word “yoga” originates from

India, stemming from the Sanskrit word “yuj,” which means to become one or join together in union. Whether it is connecting the body and mind, becoming one with self through meditation, or strengthening awareness of the present moment, yoga may improve people’s quality of life all over the world.

Little do many students at Long Beach City College know, these bene ts also are available to them on campus.

Rick Anderson, a yoga instructor at LBCC, said he

Y O CLASS BENDS

LBCC teacher’s progressive class provides grounding and clarity

Story by: Nicholai WhiticarPhotos by: Darline Rodriguez and Joseph Carrillo

“My main objective is to give my full effort to bring students to connect with

their inner-self … and to have fun!” - Rick Anderson, LBCC yoga instructor

is enthusiastic about creating a unique and effective yoga practice for students of all kinds. He focuses on implementing

core conditioning and Pilates with modern forms of yoga to enhance the athletic aspect, while maintaining the spiritual

nature of yoga through teaching meditation and mindfulness.

Anderson wrote his thesis on yoga because, he

said, he “loves it so much.” He graduated from the University of Arizona with a master’s in physical education and has been teaching at LBCC for more than a year. He started practicing yoga at age 14 when his mother convinced him

LBCC student Raquel Cordoba in warrior 2 pose during yoga class at the Liberal Arts Campus.


G A THE NORM

to try a class. At the time, he was a basketball player and quickly noticed signi cant improvements with his exibility, strength, and power. He also started experiencing fewer injuries.

Anderson describes his class, which is his own creation, as “more of a cardio slash power slash yoga sculpt.” He said, “What I’m doing with my students is, I’m trying to build their strength by holding poses for a long time; however, incorporating ow yoga, or Vinyasa Yoga. Vinyasa Yoga is connecting the breath with the movement.”

Anderson prefers teaching this innovative form because traditional forms of yoga involve less movement and more sitting. In his class, students have to keep their minds engaged because, not only do they have to focus on their breath and the regular ow of Vinyasa, but also integrate various athletic training techniques to strengthen and tone their bodies.

The class at LBCC consists mostly of young females, but ages range from late teens to late 60s. The class meets in the volleyball gym, which provides ample space to move and breathe. Entering the gym, you see an array of different-colored mats placed in rows across the wooden oor. Students dress in tight athletic wear, while Anderson dresses like a typical high school basketball coach—a ball cap, T-shirt and shorts. Holding a clipboard, he walks around the gym instructing the students.

Desiree Todd, 22, a psychology major, said, “I like the openness of the class. The teacher is really nice and he doesn’t pressure you to do all the moves, especially if you’re not ready. And you’re not close together in a really small classroom.”

Anderson’s class is Todd’s rst yoga experience. “Yoga is really fun. I didn’t realize I liked it so much. It’s a good new experience and I would de nitely

recommend it to other students,” she said.Anyone is welcome to sign up for the class,

even people with injuries, ailments such as arthritis, and disabilities because, Anderson said, yoga is known to accelerate healing and reduce stress. In his class, he modifies each pose and exercise to each person based on the student’s athletic ability and body type, ranging from a person with disabilities to an athlete. Anderson said the main reason people seem to take yoga at LBCC is to quiet their minds and get away from the fast-paced life of being a student.

“You feel very accomplished after you nish your ow,” Todd said. “My back doesn’t hurt as much and

I have a hip problem and it doesn’t hurt a whole lot

either anymore. And I feel a little more energized.”Melissa Sopheap, 20, an international business

major, said, “I’ve noticed my back pain has stopped pretty much. And I do get more relaxed, like, afterward you feel really great, and you get a good sweat on.”

At the end of each class, students lie on their backs for a 10-minute meditation called Shavasana, or corpse pose. This gives students the opportunity to re ect and become actively aware of the present moment. Anderson said, “My main objective is to give my full effort to bring students to connect with their inner-self … and to have fun!”

LBCC student Tranisha Alex, center, practices warrior 1 during yoga class at the

“You feel very accomplished after you finish your flow. And I feel a

little more energized.” - Desiree Todd, LBCC student

Liberal Arts Campus.

A parade of Toyota pick-up trucks accessorized with mounted machine guns.

Black ags with Arabic words in white. Men dressed in black, stand-ing with loaded ri es. Bloodshed follows. Their soundtrack is the steady clicking and popping of bul-lets traveling thousands of feet per second. Their opponents are killed or captured. Their captives are unsure of their fate. Are they to be beheaded? Will it be a mass execu-tion? Will their stories go viral?

Starting in summer 2014, those stories of execution did go viral, becoming a worldwide image of the word ‘Isis.’ One group started to dominate headlines.

Currently calling themselves the Islamic State, the Sunni jihadist group was once Islamic State of Iraq and Syria—or ISIS as people still say today. As they continue to overtake cities in the Middle East, terror is becoming synonymous with the acronym.

Where does this leave the

unconnected companies and groups identi ed by this unimpos-ing, four-character, two-syllable word? For some it meant keeping their name and apologizing for any confusion people might have. For others it meant a name change. For example, Isis Wallet, the phone application, became Softcard. The Long Beach City College wom-en’s club Ladies of Isis became Rho Nu Kappa, more commonly known as PNK.

Sue Jimenez, 21, said she and fellow PNK members looked up Isis on social media. “When we

saw the images, we were like ‘Oh, no.’”

Unconnected to the viral images, PNK is a social club where members do a variety of volunteer work, such as beach clean-ups and fundraising. Members also partici-pate in school events, such as cook-offs and sports competitions.

PNK President Erika Ramirez, 20, a communications major, left a table in the student lounge full of her friends, only to walk through

a door into a nearly empty room and run into three more friends. “We’re the wolf pack,” Ramirez said, referencing the club’s mascot, a white wolf. “We like to provide a sisterhood.”

Since its start in 2012, the service club has been active in the community. “Even though we’re new, we’ve established our name so far,” Ramirez said, talking about their reputation as Ladies of Isis. Now that name is gone, through no fault of their own.

“It’s just ironic how we have to change it (the name) again,” said former PNK president Jackie Cossio, 20. She explained that Isis is the goddess of rebirth and renewal and that founding members believed they were remaking the club from scratch as they broke from AKNA, a club still active on campus.

Those involved with the search for a name to replace Isis admit there was concern about the club’s name before Anita Gibbins, direc-tor of Student Life and student

THE PRICE OF A NAMEService club concerned with possible backlash

Story by: Angela MartoriPhotos by: Jazmine Nevarez

“Language is powerful. If one person makes that connection, that’s one person too many.”

- Anita Gibbins, LBCC director of Student Life and student health and psychological services

12

health and psychological services, suggested a change. Gibbins was concerned with possible scenari-os such as a member in a grocery store, wearing a shirt with the word Isis. She said she worried about the safety of club members and ques-tioned if they would have time to explain who they are.

Summer continued, along with the violence. The coverage of the terrorist group’s gruesome acts and explicit threats spread. By the start of fall 2014, a meeting of club members and school staff had been scheduled. It was time to act. After the discussions of renaming the club, during a 1 a.m. phone call between Ramirez and Cossio, a simple, yet meaningful name was chosen.

“I hate the ‘ladies of,’” Cossio said. “She (Ramirez) came up with the letters P, N, K, because pink and black are our colors. It’s basi-cally pink but without the ‘I.’ The ‘I’ is Isis, so it was taken from us.”

The decision was made. But at what cost?

For the ladies of PNK, it meant school had started and they had limited promotional materials. No iconic, giant pink glittery letters. No banner. No using their brand-new T-shirts.

Gibbins said those involved knew marketing was a main con-cern. “We already had a plan for it … we found some funds. We wereready to pitch in our own funds but it didn’t come to that,” she said.

Even so, club members, along with Cossio, had a lot to do. “It was stressful. We don’t have that much money to be doing all of this,”

Cossio said. “We made new shirts for Join-a-Club Day. That was my Saturday—my whole Saturday.”

Is the payoff worth it?“We’re so involved with the

school, the community. We want to show them that we’re still here, we’re still a positive thing. That there is no negative af liation,” Ramirez said.

“Language is powerful,” Gib-bins said. “If one person makes that connection,” in this case between the women’s club and ISIS, “that’s one person too many.”

However, in the 2004 article “Political Correctness Threatens American Liberty,” published in “Culture Wars,” John Attarian wrote: “Leftist hypersensitivity has permeated everyday life in the real world.” He said that “sensitivity folly” accomplishes a “sort of lever-age over people.”

Columnist Michael Nebab, 26, a political blogger for Everyday Ambassador, said the answer is not so simple. Initially, he started to agree that we are more culturally sensitive now, “Of course we are.” He stopped, rocked back in his chair and rubbed his hands across his head. “It’s easy in a post-9/11 world to look back and say that the world has gotten so much worse … but how would we really know?”

Around campus there is no sign of Ladies of Isis. On LBCC’s Join-a-Club Day, the only link to their former identity was the pink canopy sheltering members as they recruit-ed students. Their transformation into PNK was complete.

The four-letter word has been left to the terrorists.

“We’re the wolf pack. We like to provide a sisterhood.”

- Erika Ramirez, PNK president (pictured at right with gavel)

13FALL 2015 CITY MAGAZINE

14

In early 1969, while stationed with the 937th Engineering Group in Pleiku, Vietnam, a

25-year-old Adrian Novotny wore peace signs and high-heeled, brown-suede, Acme cowboy boots, not his Army-issued black boots, as a sign of protest.

Novotny did not resist his military draft after graduating college because he didn’t like his job at General Mo-tors. Although he was being groomed for high management and the job paid well, he didn’t like the lifestyle.

Novotny couldn’t tell his parents he wanted to quit because he thought it would have broken his parents’ hearts. Besides, he wanted to nd out why the U.S. was ghting in Vietnam. He didn’t accept the explanation of stopping communism. He thought because he had a college degree, he prob-ably wouldn’t be sent to Vietnam. While in basic training, he was

asked if he wanted to go to Of cer Candidate School. He refused.

So, Novotny was in Pleiku.Shortly after he arrived, Novot-

ny befriended some Vietnamese women, some as young as 14, who worked in the non-commissioned of cers club. Novotny said the sergeants responsible for hiring the

women, lined them up, asked them to turn around, and then hired them by “attractiveness.”

Novotny said the women un-derstood they had to do whatever the sergeants ordered, “either on the oor or in the backroom.”

Another dehumanizing event that stuck in Novotny’s mind, is when he heard some soldiers joking

Adrian Novotnys journey from Vietnam to Native American spirituality

“While he (Novotny) practices Lakota (teachings) he helps other

students find their own path.” - Marco Sanchez, LBCC student

about a bet. The bet was one sol-dier, in a bouncing truck, couldn’t shoot the hat off of a peasant. The soldier shot, missed the hat, but blew off the peasant’s head.

Then, in early 1970, Novot-ny’s duty was almost completed, and for two weeks he trained his replacement. As part of his duties,

he occasionally ew to Qui Nhon, but there was con-stant risk. If they ew too high, it would be too cold and if they ew too low, they would be vulnerable to attack. Novotny told the helicopter pilot that varying the time they flew would make it more

difficult for the enemy to predict their flight patterns.

But he was ignored, after being honorably discharged and a brief return to America, Novotny again left the states. In Germany, a year away from the war, he recon-nected with a soldier from his unit. Novotny was told that shortly after leaving Vietnam, a helicopter was

Story by: Barry Saks Photos by: ThereLee E. Fair Ray Shine

15

downed, killing his replacement along with three others, whom he had befriended.

In 1972, Novotny returned to the U.S. He earned a bachelor’s in anthropology through the G.I. Bill. He moved to Califor-nia where he received a master’s in anthro-pology and a doctorate in anthropology from the University of Oregon.

As time passed, Novotny realized he suffered from Post-Traumatic Stress Dis-order. He had episodes of uncontrollable anger, such as smashing a malfunctioning tape recorder that was “defying” him, or driving on Southern California freeways, frustrated and fantasizing about killing ev-eryone in his way with “50-caliber machine guns mounted on my hood.” He visited the VA Hospital in Long Beach and was diag-nosed with 30-percent disability as a result of his PTSD. After a few visits, he didn’t return. He thought it wasn’t helping.

Novotny eventually found help for his PTSD when he delved deeper into his Native American spirituality. He said the rst neces-sity of his spirituality is the belief in “a power greater than humans. Let’s go out in a major storm and look at 25-foot-high waves that come at the force of 50 tons. We’ll never be able to throw a switch and stop those waves. The second necessity is to live your life in harmony with that power. I have to live in a compassionate relationship with nature.”

Novotny’s quest toward spirituality be-gan in high school when he started study-ing martial arts. It is then that he de ned himself as a warrior. The in uence of Native American spirituality, particularly the ways of the Lakota, began much later, after get-ting married.

Later in life, he de ned himself as a sun dancer and piercer. He said he performed sun dances in Arizona—staring at the sun, moving with it, for four days in June. Sun dances are yearly renewal ceremonies. As a piercer, his skin would be cut, a piercing pin of buffalo shinbone placed in it. Then, he would be hung from a tree until his skin tore, showing his willingness to die for the tribe. He stopped piercing in 2009.

“For Lakotas, there are many (cere-monies) whereas, historically there was only one,” said Craig Stone, the American Indian Studies program director at Cal State Long Beach. “So, you see it as a living religion that evolves.” He explained that hanging from hooks usually occurred simultaneously with the sun dances.

Stone emphasized intercon-nectedness and individual re-

sponsibility to others. He said, “This doesn’t work with a con-struct of self or the alienated individual from humanity.”

When speaking about No-votny, Stone said, “I’ve known American Indian students who’ve gone to (Long Beach) City College and have been inspired by him. Because of the class-es he teaches and his experience, he is able to articulate ideas that have meaning to them and to express the value of the Indian ways.”

Novotny has been teaching anthropology for more than 26 years at LBCC. Recently, his Magic, Witchcraft and Religion class has had a waitlist. Aside from classroom teaching, he also advises the Pa-gan Club. The club’s past president, philosophy major Marco Sanchez, 21, who wants to teach, said, “While he (Novotny) practices Lakota (teachings) he helps other students nd their own path.”

Novotny is respected by students and teachers alike. LBCC psychology profes-sor Tricia Alexander said, “He’s intelligent, creative, funny … that makes a winning combination. He champions causes. I think that is admirable.”

Novotny realized he had to re-spond differently to situations upset-ting him. He believes his salvation from the traumas of war lie in responding in a meditative way. “I have ample evidence to show my impulsive reaction to anxiety is unhealthy. I don’t want to be a role model of anger and con ict.” He wanted to show his children “coping strategies that are educational and enlightening, not destructive and damaging. I see so much of me in them. Fortunately, I don’t see the uncontrollable rage.”

Archive photos courtesy:Adrian Novotny

16

t was July 1979, about a month after finishing basic training at the Naval Amphibious Base, Little Creek, in

Norfolk, Virginia. Sheryl McAdoo, 61, now a veteran and a business management student at Long Beach City College, was raped by a civilian. The rapist (known as John Doe for this story) was the abusive spouse of McAdoo’s friend, who also was serving.

McAdoo’s friend was divorcing John Doe, and whenever she had to see him, she brought a third party, hoping another person’s presence would deter him from further abuse.

However, about a week before her friend’s birthday, John Doe lashed out. Early in the week he assaulted one of his wife’s friends, sending the male victim to the hospital. Two days later, John Doe followed McAdoo to a bar, waited for her to leave, then jumped her from behind and anally raped her with a gun to her head. By the end of the week, he murdered his wife and attempted to murder another female friend of hers.

“The military swept it (her rape, de-fined as military sexual trauma or MST) under the rug as if it never happened,” McAdoo said. “I got no treatment for it, and I went on for years and years with drug abuse and using alcohol … trying to drown out all the trauma that I expe-rienced.” Despite her traumatic experi-ence, she served four years, completing her full enlistment.

In 1992, after congressional hearings, the VA was authorized to provide outreach

and counseling for women suffering from MST. In 2004, Public Law 108-422 made the VA’s provision of MST services a permanent benefit, according to the December 2007 article “The Veteran Health Administration and Military Sexual Trauma,” in the publication “American Journal of Public Health.”

McAdoo started attending the Renew program at the Veterans Hospital in Long Beach in November 2006, to help with her post-traumatic stress disorder and MST. She still meets with a therapist weekly.

She continues to suffer, 35 years later. She said she can’t be in crowds because they make her feel insecure. Besides get-ting support from LBCC Veterans Center, she gets support from her husband of four and a half years. When McAdoo explained how he helps her cope, she said, “The main thing that my husband does is he recognizes what I’m going through … my periods of PTSD or sometimes depression.”

Another veteran suffering from trauma is Michael Negrete, 25, a kinesiology major at LBCC. He served more than 14 months in Afghanistan in two tours as a Navy medic attached to a Marine helicopter squadron. During that time, Negrete spent three weeks in a Scottish-run emergency room at Camp Bastion in Helmut province.

Recounting his experience with his first trauma patient, Negrete said, “The patient was hemorrhaging from his left leg. After that, I could not get the smell of blood out of my senses. I would see it on TV, I could still smell it. It stuck with me for a while.”

INVISIBLE SCARS Student veterans living with PTSDStory by: Barry Saks

She spoke nervously recounting her rape.

I


However, Negrete doesn’t believe his experience with the trauma patient in Afghanistan caused his PTSD, but rather an experience he had while stationed on Oahu, Hawaii. He witnessed the aftermath of a helicopter crash from his lanai in Kaneohe Bay. He quickly discovered the pilot’s identity as someone he knew.

“I couldn’t do anything to save John (the pilot). I remember waiting helplessly on the shore for him to be delivered to us, but he never arrived,” Negrete said. “I had to ‘down’ him from ying while in Afghanistan (revoke his ability to y due to his not having the correct eyeglasses) because that was within my control. Meanwhile, I wasn’t sure who re-turned him to ying status, thus my feeling guilty. Clearly it was a physician, but I feel as though had he still been ‘downed’ his death wouldn’t have ever occurred.”

Afterward, Negrete said, “I can recall that I went about two weeks without really communicating with most people.”

During his first year back from active duty, Negrete said he had too much time on his hands and drank too much.

“I didn’t realize it, I thought I was just partying,” Negrete said. “I thought I was just catching up with friends. I got into a relationship and started to realize my actions were not healthy for a relation-ship. So I saw a psychiatrist from the VA and that is when I realized I was trying to self-medicate.”

He said now he doesn’t drink often at all, and when he does, it’s no more than one or two drinks. He knows now he’s not responsible for John’s death, but said

anxiety in crowds still is an issue. “I feel like the anxiety I feel is attributed to the lack of control in the mob, just like my lack of control in the crash.”

According to the PTSD Foundation of America website, one in three returning service members is diagnosed with PTSD, but less than 40 percent will seek help and, on average, five active-duty service members commit suicide each day.

James Martinez, a nancial aid specialist at LBCC, helps run the Veterans Center at the college. “A very large percentage of our student population here either suffers from PTSD or TBI (traumatic brain injury),” he said. He went on to explain the VA has said that close to 80 percent of veterans suffer, at the very least, from TBI. Mar-tinez said many veterans don’t realize they suffer from TBI because the symp-toms, such as memory loss, are com-mon for many people who don’t suffer from the disorder.

LBCC President Eloy Ortiz Oakley served as a sergeant in the 82nd Airborne Division and the U.S. Army Chemical Weapons Command from 1984-88. While Oakley said he feels fortunate not to have seen combat, he said, “Most of the senior-level staff had all been in Vietnam. You could tell there was some trauma that they were trying to deal with. I saw a lot of divorces. I saw a lot of drinking, self-medication. It was accepted as part of the job. Unfortunately, it probably also caused a lot of excuses and reasons why we don’t want to take mental health seriously.”

“I could not get the smell of blood out of my senses. I would see it on

TV, I could still smell it.” - Michael Negrete, veteran and LBCC student

18

A weak rise of applause, whoops and whistles struggle up from the crowd waiting for the next

drag performer to appear.The 50 or so patrons are chastised,

“Oh no, no, no, that was terrible. That was pathetic. Let’s try that again, folks, and this

time make some noise!” The booming voice lls the darkened room, much like the gure

of DJ Smuckers lls out his sound booth at Hamburger Mary’s, a restaurant and gay club

in downtown Long Beach.“Smuckers” is the alter ego of 35-year-old

Christopher Behrick, a communications major at Long Beach City College with a focus on elec-

tronic media and broadcasting. He is a bear of a man at over 6 feet tall with a huge frame, but per-

haps the biggest thing about Behrick is his smile, revealing him as more Winnie-the-Pooh than grizzly.

He favors T-shirts bearing Star Wars characters or sayings like, “Sarcastic comment loading in 3...2...1”

and colorful shorts. Watching him in the booth, as he sets his loops before a show or adjusts a mix during,

he is quiet and serious, occasionally folding his hands across his stomach as he checks a monitor. He laughs

often and easily around people and is known for his quick wit, which serves him well when trading quips with the

queens during drag shows.Beneath his very public persona, though, Behrick is a

man described over and over by those around him as ex-tremely hard-working, generous, talented and driven.

He began college pursuing a career in business but it was not his passion. Behrick always has had a love of music and

performance, but says he became a DJ “almost by accident.”“My rst impression of Smuckers was intimidating! But

then I realized he was a gentle giant,” said Psycadella Façade, a drag queen who has known Behrick for about 10 years. Behrick

started attending a monthly charity event at Ultimate, a non-pro t center in East Los Angeles where Façade performed. The center is

an HIV and AIDS awareness and prevention group focused on the

LGBT community. Façade noticed Behrick was comfortable with the audio equipment and technical procedures at Ultimate.

Behrick started out dabbling as a DJ in high school when he participat-ed in the color guard and cheer squads. He was on varsity cheer sophomore

through senior years and coordinated the mixes for both groups. At that time, all the mixing was still done on tapes.

Façade guffaws recalling the apparently not-so-gentle encouragement when Behrick was prodded into the role of DJ. The event’s original DJ earned

the moniker “Skippy” because his donated equipment was so sensitive it would often skip in response to crowd noise. When Behrick was asked to step

in, “‘Smuckers’ was thrown up as a joke, a big huge joke,” said Behrick. “There was already DJ Skippy, like peanut butter, so Smuckers plays the jams. It became

A

“A badass. He can line up a show, co-host, DJ, run lighting and even handle financing.” - Delta Work (renowned drag queen)

LBCC student Christopher Behrick is DJ Smuckers

MANA

BYMANY

OTHERNAMES

STORY BY: ELIZA DE LA FLOR

PHOTOS BY:BRANDON E RICHARDSONJOSEPH CARRILLO


like my drag name. Because now nobody knows my real name.”

Well, not nobody. Angel Zaragoza, 36, calls Behrick, “Chris. Fat. He’s my brother bear. I’m his pain-in-the-ass.”

Although the two are not blood-related, they call each other siblings. Fast friends since elementary school, she refers to Behrick’s mother, now deceased, as her other mother. Zaragoza was the troublemaker, re-ferred to by Behrick’s mother as a “little devil,” and Behrick was the little brother who got her out of scrapes. Zaragoza hasn’t been able to see him perform often as Smuckers, but said, “He’s always been Mr. Shining Star.”

The other Zaragoza sister, Lea, said that Behrick is a great dancer. Lea Zaragoza said, “He’s big and tall but exible. He’s doing splits and I can’t!” She also said she and Behrick rarely call each other by name, instead using profanities like “Fat Bitch” or “Fat Girl.” Even her 5-year-old daughter calls him “Uncle Fat.”

The Zaragoza women and other close friends are Behrick’s family. He has no blood relations closer than the East Coast and London. He never knew his father and his mother died in 2000. His voice maintains its easy cadence when he explains that his mother got pregnant in an interracial relationship in the ‘70s and marriage was not an option. His mother told him that his father had been mugged and suffered head trauma before meeting her, and at some point in the pregnan-cy, Behrick’s father threatened Behrick’s mother with a gun. She left him.

Behrick’s loyal family of friends is impressive. Ricardo Moya, 34, met Behrick more than 16 years ago when they worked at J.C. Penney Co. Moya was panicking over a transaction as a Christmastime shop-ping line grew in front of him. Behrick assisted him, explaining that he was also an employee, and the two became instant friends. Moya witnessed Behrick evolve into Smuckers and said the DJ has grown more busi-ness-driven. Even on a day off, Moya’s seen Behrick step up to the booth at Mary’s if he feels the vibe isn’t right. Moya calls Behrick “Mother Bear” and said Beh-rick lls that role to many.

Drag queen Delta Work began working with Beh-

rick years ago when she started hosting Dream-girls, a weekly drag review at Mary’s. She described Behrick as “a badass. He can line up a show, co-host, DJ, run lighting and even handle nancing.” She has seen

him take charge and shoulder responsibility at multiple events, often going unthanked and always with a smile.

Behrick said, “I know how to run a show. This has all happened mostly because I’m a show DJ.”

However, he has ambitions beyond the booth. He calls himself “a triple threat. I can sing, dance and act.” Eventually, he would like to DJ on satellite radio. He likes the freedom afforded by radio, where he can have a show and sing on the air. It also lends more stability than

a singing career. As he said, “For my mouth, satellite would be suggested. And I’ve got the body for radio.”

He already enjoys a sort of local fame, often called out as “Smuckers,” not only at Mary’s, but also at LBCC and at his job at Target.

He recalls a day at Cabrillo Beach on a biology class eld trip when a young woman tapped his shoul-der timidly and said, “Smuckers?”

“That was so cute,” Behrick said. “I call it sub-lebrity.”

DJ SMUCKERS LAYING DOWN THE TRACKS AT HAMBURGER MARY’S NIGHT CLUB IN LONG BEACH CALIF.

DJ SMUCKERS SMILES AT QUIPS MADE BY BELLA FARROW, THE HOST OF THE MARGARITA MARY’S EVENT AT HAMBURGER MARY’S IN LONG BEACH.

While monotone lectures and vigorous note-taking are more common classroom sounds,

the screeching of metal sheets being fed to machines has become the noise of choice for Liliana Escatel.

Escatel, 19, serves as student council vice president and is one of the few women enrolled in a nontraditional trade program at Long Beach City College. The engineering major was rst drawn to the artistic opportunities offered by the metal fabrication program after seeing its booth at Join-a-Club Day. “I saw all the designs and projects they had made out of metal and I thought it was really cool,” Escatel said.

The metal fabrication technology program at LBCC offers students training in sheet metal and welding, as well as the opportunity to test for an industry-recognized certi cate. Students who complete the program leave with entry-level

skills that meet the standards of the American Welding Society.

“There is de nitely a place for women in trades,” said Tim Shoemaker, a metal fabrication instructor at LBCC with more than 30 years of experience in the sheet metal industry. “Patience is needed for this type of work and with the right mindset, anything is possible.”

Intrigued by the program, Escatel attended the club meetings regularly. While the majority of the members used club time to work on projects, Escatel still was learning how the bulky tools and machines functioned. Determined to no longer feel left behind, Escatel committed more to the trade by signing up for the semester-long classes.

Hidden behind pitch-black goggles and wearing scorched gloves that were a loose t for her slim hands, she immersed herself into working with metal. Escatel’s focus on executing the tasks overshadowed her fear of being one of three women in the class.

Another metal fabrication student, Katie Fajardo, 37, recalled the initial responses she received

On some

days she picks

up a nail polish

brush, on other

days, a hammer.

after joining the program. “They told me to drop it because there were too many males,” Fajardo said about the reaction from family and friends. Although she joined the program for personal enrichment, she plans to work toward a certi cate in metal fabrication.

Commonly associated with male-dominated trades is the

20

LBCC women defy gender roles in male-dominated trade classes

- Katie Fajardo, LBCC student

“They told me to drop it because there were too many males.”

Story by: Sylvana Uribe Photos by: Jay Pangan III

Josie Meugnoit, a metal fabrication student, uses welding equipment to build a mini-motor-

cycle model from scratch.

stigma that women are unable to do the work. Julie Schneider, an instructor in the LBCC welding department, disagrees with this. Schneider entered the industry in the mid-90s, and at her rst job site as a welder was the only woman among 450 men. “Women and welding go really well together,” Schneider said. “Trades aren’t always heavy, hard, laborious work. It’s a lot of fun.”

Women working in what is considered to be a “man’s job” is nothing new in this country. During World War II, icons like Rosie the Riveter encouraged women to contribute toward the war effort by stepping out of their roles as homemakers and into factories. Once the war ended, women were thanked for their services and were replaced by former soldiers.

Nontraditional work is de ned by the Women’s Bureau of the United States Department of Labor as an occupation in which women account for 25 percent or less of total employment. According to the bureau, 36.84 percent of the women in the labor force were between the ages of 25 and 44 in the 1970s, while in 2012, this gure stood at 41.9 percent.

Indeed, the presence of women in the workforce has grown, but they continue to be poorly represented in nontraditional industries. Data collected by the Women’s Bureau for 2013 revealed that only 4.6 percent of those employed in the welding industry were women. Similarly, women represented 5.5 percent of those employed in the sheet metal industry. However, professions in the areas of science, law, and sports have ceased to be categorized as nontraditional as more women enter those previously male-dominated elds.

Regarding the trade industry, the nancial rewards available are overlooked due to the lack of equal gender representation. However, the Women’s Bureau notes that nontraditional jobs offer higher entry-level wages that typically range from $20 to $30 an hour,

which Lynn Shaw, an electrical technology professor at LBCC, attributed as an in uential reason for having entered the nontraditional industry. Shaw said, “I was struggling to survive as a young woman, and I started to look around and realized that the jobs men did paid more.”

Shaw has held jobs as a miner, steelworker, longshore worker, and electrician. She was often frustrated with being the only woman on job sites, which is why she founded Women in Nontraditional Employment Roles, or WINTER. “Women don’t think of these careers, no one tells them they can do it,” Shaw said. Her non-pro t organization continues to serve as a support network for women in the nontraditional line of work or for those considering it. Shaw said that diminishing the emphasis on whether a job is for males or females, or what she has dubbed as “occupational apartheid,” opens up more opportunities for anyone willing and able to work.

As was the case for Escatel, her interest in a trade triumphed over the need to prove herself. “I tried it because it looked cool, I never considered it as a career path. Taking these trade classes has made me rethink everything,” Escatel said.

As she considers the possibility of pursuing certi cation in the trade, Escatel continues to nd comfort in the echoing sounds of metal being cut and the humming of hungry machines.

“There is definitely a place for women in trades.”

- Tim Shoemaker, LBCC metal fabrication instructor


“I was struggling to survive as a young woman, and I started to look around and realized that the jobs men did paid more.”

- Dr. Lynn Shaw, LBCC electrical technology professor

Instructor Julie Schneider teaches in the LBCC welding department.

2222

It begins before you ever step foot inside the building. Waldo, from “Where’s Waldo,” is crossing South Figueroa Street. Outside the doors, Mario

is holding a spray-painted sign and asking if any-one’s seen a certain princess. Standing above passersby, Ms. Marvel is ready to protect the city. Characters gravitate in waves toward the glass doors framed by a yellow welcome banner. The building is overtaken with color, noise, and creativity.

It’s not Halloween—it’s Stan Lee’s annual Comi-kaze Expo at the Los Angeles Convention Center and cosplay always is encouraged.

According to the 2014 Funk & Wagnalls “New World Encyclopedia,” cosplay, a Japanese contraction of the English words costume and play, originally de-ned people that dress up and portray anime (Japa-

nese-style animation) characters. It’s expanded. Today, movies, comics, commercials, novels, and video games are just a few of the mediums cosplayers use for inspiration.

Since the 1980s, cosplay has become more mainstream with an explosion of nerd culture. “When almost every blockbuster movie or book is sci- , fan-tasy, or geek-related, we (nerds) are no longer the

minority, we are the majority,” said cosplayer and Comikaze panelist Abby Dark-Star. With the in ux of new fans, cosplay-er stereotypes are irrelevant.

Dressed in a nondescript sweater and pants, bangs twist-ed back into a business-casual

style, cosplayer Elizabeth Cruz, 24, has no outward markers of being into any fandom. But her room hints at it. A handful of figurines and a com-ic-themed bedspread are the only visible fan merchandise.

“‘What, you’re into costumes? Is that weird? You don’t look weird,’” was a response Cruz has received from friends unfamiliar with the hobby.

A receptionist for the Long Beach Convention Center, Cruz has been cosplaying for four years and

TO BE OR NOT TO BE: THE LIVES OF COSPLAYERSCosplayers give a glimpse into their experiencesStory by: Angela MartoriPhotos by: Jay Pangan III

“It’s not as nerdy as you think it is.”

- Marissa Mobley, LBCC student

“It’s not as nerdy as you think it is.”

- Marissa Mobley, LBCC student

JILL CLABORNE, A FASHION STUDENT AT LBCC, POSES WEARING A HANDMADE COSPLAY COSTUME. ELIZABETH CRUZ POSES AS MS. MARVEL

FALL 2015 CITY MAGAZINE 23FALL 2015 CITY MAGAZINE 23

has worked Anime Expo (A ) for the last two. “It’s one of the rst things on my Facebook,” she said with a guffaw, implying it isn’t something she can hide. At one point she gestured to a gurine of Madoka Kaname from the series “PUELLA MAGI MADOKA MAG-ICA,” her favorite character to cosplay. “My favorite thing about it (Madoka)—it’s full of frills, and it’s pink, and it’s in your face.”

Cruz said her authenticity has been challenged by other cosplay-ers. She has been accused of being a ‘fake geek girl.’ “It’s like prove yourself, that you’re worthy of what you’re wearing, and you’re not just doing it to be sexy.”

For Marissa Mobley, 19, a Long Beach City College student, her ‘non-nerd’ look gets remarked upon at conventions and the “Homestuck” cosplay meets she attends. Mobley has cosplayed the webcomic’s character, Por-rim, since 2013.

“‘So-and-so wants to talk to you, but they’re really intimidated by you. They think you’re really pretty,’” Mobley recalled. Her words began to run together as she shook her head, baf ed by what she said friends have told her. “I’m like, you see me acting like an idiot over there yelling music, why are you afraid to talk to me? I’m a nerd in a costume.”

Mobley does advise an I-don’t-care attitude. “It’s how you have to go through the cosplay communi-ty.” She explains that there are a lot of elitists who will call you out on every detail that’s not true to character. “You just have to be like, OK, and you go on with your day.”

Mobley can be seen around campus with her hair pulled back in a neat ponytail, wearing lipstick, a pullover sweater, skinny jeans, and tall boots, more likely to be perceived as a fashionista rather than a cosplayer. In fact, she began cosplaying the character before reading the comics. “I didn’t even ask what the comic was about.” Dressing up, hanging out, and eating with friends is what drew her into the culture. “It’s not as nerdy as you think it is.”

She now knows enough about the webcomic to get by, but read-ing the entire thing is not on her to-do list. “It was about 7,000 pages when I started … I don’t have time to read all that.”

Cosplaying Porrim has become an important part of Mobley’s social life. People ask for poses on her Tumblr and she gets recognized at meets as Hot Mama Porrim, a nick-name given to her by a friend.

“What’s so awesome about this community is that it means so much to so many different people. It is what you make it,” said Nick Smith, a prop designer, cosplayer, and panelist at Comikaze.

LBCC fashion design student Jill Claborne, 25, was drawn to the hobby in high school because of the costuming. “I’ve loved just dressing up in a costume,” she said. So when her rst boyfriend suggested they dress up as char-acters in their favorite anime, “Full Metal Panic,” she said it didn’t strike her as odd.

After attending A in 2005, Claborne got into masquerades and skits. The hobby took off. “I’ll do a character I like and that the design isn’t atrocious.” The fash-ion designer in her came out when she smirked and admit-ted to not respecting poorly designed characters.

Summer 2015 marked Claborne’s 10th anniversary of the hobby. When asked if she’d con-tinue, she laughed and gave an emphatic “oh yeah.” Claborne said she plans to continue cosplaying well into her golden years. “I love seeing little old ladies cosplaying someone like Sophie from ‘Howl’s Moving Castle.’ There are a lot of things you can’t cosplay when you’re 25.”

Claborne said a common mis-conception is the idea that people mainly cosplay to dress scantily because they are attention whores. “Putting on a wig, putting on a swimsuit you bought at Target and calling that cosplay. It’s de nitely not,” she said. “That’s so much fun,” she is quick to add, “but the less you have to wear, the more in character you need to be to pull this off.”

INTERESTED? JUST ASK. YOU HAVE AT LEAST

ONE FRIEND THAT’S GOING TO BE INTO IT.

DON’T DATE ANYONE IN YOUR FANDOM.

IT’S DRAMA.

DON’T BE AFRAID TO GO TO MEETS AND CONS

BY YOURSELF. YOU’LL MAKE FRIENDS.

Marissa’s Cosplay Advice

24

LINDSEY CRAYTON

IS PREPARING

FOR THE FIRST

FRIDAY EVENT.

BRIAN CHAVEZ DEVOTES

TIME TO VOLUNTEERING AT

HISTORY MUSEUMS.

A Peekinto the

Past

“I have so much pride for LB and I feel like I have a real

connection here.” - Allison Bretall, HSLB volunteer

Behind the scenes of Long Beach history

T he sun had yet to rise and there we were, navigating through a cemetery. The wet

grass stuck to our shoes, but we kept marching. Well, it was more of a stumble considering the uneven, muddy ground. We carried boxes to booths hidden somewhere in the eld of tombstones.

In approximately two hours, tables were set, merchandise was on display, and we dusted the dried dirt from our shoes. Guests poured in through the gates and the Histor-ical Cemetery Tour began.

History never had been some-thing I’d been passionate about. The stories were interesting, but it always boiled down to taking the tests, passing the course, and moving on. This all changed after taking an American history class at Long Beach City College when I was faced with two options for a semester-long project: a research paper or volunteer 40 hours with the Historical Society of Long Beach. Organizing historical pieces and smiling at gatherings seemed easy enough.

Located on Atlantic Avenue in the heart of Bixby Knolls, the HSLB is a non-pro t organization com-mitted to collecting and preserv-ing the city’s history. The society encourages the community to keep Long Beach’s past alive through its

exhibits, historical tours, and partic-ipation in events like First Fridays.

Gallery coordinator Ashley Franks-McGill stressed that whether tasks are big or small, volunteers are vital to the organization. “We are a staff of four people, so we can coordinate the whole event, but it’s really the volunteers who carry out the event. We really couldn’t do it without them,” she said.

The majority of my internship was spent taking down the “Com-

ing Out in Long Beach” exhibit which celebrated the local LGBT community. Equipped with a ham-mer and wax scraper, I freed the ex-hibit items from the walls to even-tually be stored in the museum’s dimly lit vault. At rst, I thought this task would foster a detached feeling from the contents contained within the frames; however, quite the opposite occurred. Taking down each piece, the stories of the smiling faces parading through the city’s streets or those huddling for a group photo came to life. The

historical society is one of the few places where the walls do talk.

Shortly thereafter, the gal-lery was barren and the required volunteer hours were of cially over. Except, I wasn’t ready for it to be done. So why stop?

The summer days crept in and the need for help with the “See, Sip and Savor” tour drew me back into volunteering. The walking tour al-lowed guests to enjoy wine and ap-petizers while viewing homes rich in historical value. Volunteering at the event, I became acquainted with the Gaytonia building, where much of the original 1930s architecture remains preserved. For years I had admired its castle-like towers that grazed the sky, and its neon-green sign which displayed its name. As I rode in its European-style lift eleva-tor in total disbelief of my surround-ings, I found myself shaking hands with the building’s owner.

“The perks of being a volunteer is seeing the behind-the-scenes of how things are put together, and the opportunity to get close to people you wouldn’t have met as just a regular event attendant,” volunteer Brian Chavez said. The 20-year-old history major at LBCC said doing something with history outside the classroom has allowed him to become more in touch with his community. His love for the eld

Story by: Sylvana Uribe Photos by: Phyllis Miller


BOOKS ABOUT THE HISTORY OF

LONG BEACH FIRE DEPARTMENT

AND LONG BEACH AVIATION

ALLISON

BRETALL, A

VOLUNTEER

AT THE

HSLB

ASHLEY FRANKS -MCGILL,

GALLERY COORDINATOR

LINDSEY CRAYTON, LEFT, AND ASHLEY FRANKS-MCGILL

SET UP A DISPLAY OF THE HISTORIC PACIFIC COAST CLUB.

A HSLB DISPLAY AT A FIRST FRIDAY EVENT.

“The perks of being a volunteer is seeing the

behind-the-scenes of how things are put together.”

- Brian Chavez, LBCC student

contributed to him becoming the youngest docent at the Drum Barracks Civil War Museum in Wilmington, Calif., where he has been volunteering for ve years.

Chavez began volunteering with the HSLB in April 2014, and said the organization’s events are a fun way of bonding with the city. “I feel a lot closer with my community and being surrounded by people who have similar interests in history and the history of your city is pretty great.”

Whether sitting behind a desk cataloging items or helping with early morning set-ups in a cemetery, working with organizations like the historical society re-quires someone to become immersed in the lives of a city’s past and to seek to create a historical ngerprint of their own. It doesn’t matter if a person is a lifelong resident or new to the area, a connection is sparked.

Allison Bretall started working with the HSLB as part of an internship she had to ful ll while studying at

Historical Society of Long Beach,4260 Atlantic Ave., Long Beach, CA 90807(562) 424-2220hslb.org

Cal State Long Beach. The San Diego native relocated to Long Beach in August 2011, and, despite being alone in a new city, she became acquainted with her surroundings through her assigned tasks.

“I process donations everyday like pictures, post-cards, and scrapbooks. Lots of people’s memories and mementos are being donated, and I get to see what somebody else saw in Long Beach,” Bretall said.

Now a regular with the organization, Bretall said she couldn’t imagine herself not volunteering at least twice a week. “I have so much pride for Long Beach and I feel like I have a real connection here. Long Beach is now my home.”

“I have lived in the city all of my life, but didn’t

consider it a home. I always was on the search for something new, and ached to pack all of my belongings and embark on an adventure elsewhere. It wasn’t until I started volunteering that I could refer to Long Beach as “my city.” It wasn’t until I allowed myself to get lost in the past that I could begin to appreciate the present.

Pumpkin Cinnamon RollsA Fall Favorite

Story by: Sylvana Uribe

Photos by: Eliza de la Flor & Phyllis Miller

The fall season marks a time of new beginnings as classes start, the leaves change, the temperature cools, and the obsession with pumpkin spice takes over. Whether it be in coffee mixes or sweets, the pumpkin-spice xation has made terms like PSL (pumpkin

spice latte) a norm. College students may have little time and limited funds to create culinary masterpieces. This recipe is ideal for those on a budget and, while simple to make, these cinna-mon rolls are complex in avor and capture the pumpkin-spice craze in every bite.

26

• 1 can of crescent roll dough (standard eight-roll size)• ½ cup pumpkin purée• ½ teaspoon of pumpkin pie spice• 2 tablespoons of brown sugar• ½ teaspoon of cinnamon

Cream cheese frosting:

• ½ cup of cream cheese• 4 tablespoons of butter, softened to room temperature• 1 ½ cups of confectioner’s (powdered) sugar• 1 teaspoon of vanilla extract• 1-2 tablespoons of whole milk or water

Directions:

1. Preheat the oven to 375°F. Grease an 8x8 inch baking dish.2. In a bowl, combine the pumpkin purée, pumpkin pie spice, brown sugar, and cinnamon

and mix well by hand.3. Unroll the dough along the vertical seam and pinch perforations together. Spread the

pumpkin lling evenly with spatula or butter knife. Tightly roll up the dough lengthwise into a log. Use a serrated knife to cut into even-sized pieces, and place side-by-side, mak-ing sure sides of the rolls are touching, into the greased baking dish.

4. Bake the rolls for 18-20 minutes or until golden brown. Take out of the oven and let them cool in the pan for 5 minutes. Remove to plate to nish cooling.

5. To make the frosting, combine the cream cheese and butter until smooth. Mix in the sugar, vanilla extract, and milk. If a thinner consistency is preferred, add milk by the table-spoon.

6. Spread frosting over the cinnamon rolls and enjoy!

rd eight-roll size)

Pumpkin Cinnamon Rolls:

Prep Time: 10 minutesCook Time: 20 minutesYields: 8-10 miniature rolls

Ingredients:


28

Don’t misunderstand. Our staff loves technology. We are tweeters and Tumblrs

and YouTubers. We post pictures of food on Instagram and share stories on SnapChat. However, we rec-ognize the dying art of personal interactions in the physical world and the importance of rejuvenat-ing the signi cance of face-to-face contact.

People have more social media “friends” than days in a calendar year. They are aware of events in their downtowns and places 12 time zones away.

And yet, people make plans, in a urry of group texts and e-vites, sometimes weeks in advance, only to cancel, without even a phone call, less than an hour before. Many feel comfortable connecting through social media, but not in person.

Couples isolate themselves from each other on rst dates when they stare at their phones instead of

making eye contact across the table and having awkward, yet necessary conversations. Friends gather to watch a movie on the couch, but keep missing plot points while they catch up on the most recent Reddit threads.

Connecting has never seemed so simultaneously achievable and impossible. People have friends they’ve known for years and ones they’ve never met in person, or even heard their voices. But to not connect with everyone leads to a terrifying possibility: missing out.

So again and again people accept almost-anonymous friend requests, say “maybe” to a party invitation in Tokyo even though the semester doesn’t end until June, and they’re scrambling to make rent for this month. A person RSVPs for a friend’s birthday and a gallery opening and a house-warming party and that new band’s rst local gig and a Tinder date and if the new episode of “Gotham” just posted on Hulu she may just choose that, anyway.

Apps allow you to virtually farm, cook, and go on quests, but are those virtual activities substitutes

for real-life experiences with other people? We know you’re proba-bly not going to start a farm. But maybe you could start a conver-sation with your parents instead. Or nd out your neighbor’s rst name, whether you’ve lived in your apartment for ve months or ve minutes. Your Instagram followers can’t lend you a cup of sugar.

Don’t be so afraid of missing out on Facebook updates that you miss out on a chance to smile at a stranger. Yes, access to one million inspiring cake photos on Pinterest is impressive. But it’s even better if you attempt to make a cake and have people over to share in your success. (Or, let’s face it, your sarcastic “nailed it” lack of success, because those things are impossi-ble to replicate.)

Yes, share with your online friends, explore new things and cultivate relationships all over the world. That’s amazing! But don’t do that at the expense of interacting with the here and now. Don’t let your Alfredo sauce congeal and your dining companions starve while you take pictures of your meal from 18 different angles. Don’t be so wrapped up in click-responding to international invites that you don’t look up from your screen in time to see a hummingbird dart by. Don’t let the glow from screens and Internet approvals outweigh sunshine and handshakes.

PSUEDO CONNECTIVITY

Virtual reality is overtaking people’s lives

Story by: Spring 2015 Editors ClassIllustrations by: Aaron Wiseman and Eduardo Oviedo

Dislike Rant Spread

not in person.”

through social media, butthrough social media, but

not in person.”

“Many feel comfortable connecting


49

Aaron Wiseman

lonelybirthdayboy

lonelybirthdayboy

Documents

City Magazine 2015