PCC INSCAPE MAGAZINE
  • Online Issue No. 10
  • About
    • PCC Inscape Instagram
  • SUBMISSIONS
  • ISSUE ARCHIVE
    • Online Issue No.9
    • 2016 Fall Online
    • 2016 Sppring Online
    • 2017 Fall Online
    • 2017 Print Issue - Manifesto TOC
    • 2018 Fall Print Issue - Frankenstein TOC
    • 2018 FA Frankenstein Companion
    • 2018 Summer Online
    • 2018 Fall Folio - VOTE
    • 2018 Fall Spirituality
    • 2019 Celebrating Dia De Los Muertos
    • 2019 SPR Mental Health Companion >
      • Issue Intro
    • 2019 Fall Folio -- Moon Moon
    • 2019 Fall Folio
    • 2020 Summer Folio
    • 2020 Feb Folio
    • 2021 Feb Folio
  • Feral Parrot : The Blog
  • 2022 Handley Awards
  • INTERVIEWS
  • Inscape Alumni Board
Picture

America's Team

10/19/2017

0 Comments

 
PicturePhoto from Dallas Observer
This poem penned by Blog Editor Frank Turrisi explores a friend's true story in lieu of NFL reactions to comments made by President Trump. (click)

by Frank Turrisi

It was a perfect Sunday.  The Dallas Cowboys won,
And the Southern California weather lured me outside.
As I step out on my block, I love the way that Hollywood
Energy makes you feel anything is possible.  My steps
Feel so light, as I pass under the Mexican Fan Palms,


Reaching so hopefully into the sunset.  The green parrots
Are flocking above, and talking a language I wish I
Knew.  The Jacarandas lay their purple flowers at my feet,
And I remember not everyone likes them as I wonder,
Does the color overwhelm them?  I suppose they stain
The pavement.  Their scent perfumes the entire street,
And make my feet stick to the ground.  They are impossible
To clean up.  The residue of their nectar won’t easily
Wash off the paint of the expensive automobiles.


It was a perfect Sunday.  I was happy to see my neighbor
Could enjoy the day too.  Before I could even say hi to her,
She reeled back on her heels in terror, at just the sight
Of me.  Gasping, she pulled the leash around the neck
Of her oblivious designer dog, and I noticed the helpless
Animal suspended by its collar that looked like a noose
Snapping for a second.  I watched the woman in the yoga pants
Cover herself up with her arms as if all I wanted to see was
Under her halter tank top that exposed so much white skin.


I stepped into the road to politely avoid her path, and smiled
That same non-threatening smile that has earned me thousands
In commercials, to let her know my dark skin and athletic build
Were no peril.  I am an actor, and so used to disguising my real
Emotion for the pleasure of others.  I wish I could say
I hadn’t threatened anybody just on sight before.  I almost
Forgot that white billionaire owners, locked arms with black
Players locking arms with whites and browns and took
A knee during the national anthem just hours ago.  There was
Solidarity on America’s Team, and in that moment I was inspired
By how they all stood for equality together.  Perhaps I was too full 
Of nostalgia as I watched my favorite childhood game, and got lost.


It was a perfect Sunday.  I kept walking as I pretended 
I was on an audition.  Like the times from days not too far
Past, where I hoped for all those roles that cast me as a villain.
They were the only parts I had the chance to get.  I tried
Not to take it personally, told myself it was a stepping stone,
And one day I would be able to show all of them that I was more.
Some cannot see my success now, like me, they choose to see
What they like too.  Maybe they’ll never see what I've become.


In that Hollywood energy, I still hope anything is possible.
The weather is still perfect, as I walk one with the green parrots
Speaking the language only they will ever really know.
In my heart, I stand for the anthem of this country that I love,
And I kneel for the soldiers losing the battle on our soil every day.  

I remind myself, not everyone likes Jacarandas, some people
Might never care if the Dallas Cowboys ever win at all.  Maybe
Their perfect Sunday doesn’t have solidarity on America's Team.



0 Comments

FROM THE INSCAPE ARCHIVES, vol. 33, Fall 1977: Unwavering Women of the 1970s

10/2/2017

0 Comments

 
Picture
by Jennifer de Ita
Our staff review their favorite issues from the Inscape Archives, available at Shatford Library, Pasadena City College
​

           In the 1970’s, America underwent a turbulent, transformative and triumphant period that spanned across several civil rights movements. The era was marked by scores of demonstrations, amassing protesters full of anti-Nixon sentiments, as well as proponents of gay, lesbian, and women’s civil rights issues.  In particular, the Inscape 1977 edition, initially grabbed my attention with a simplistic black mat cover, but I opened it to find the stark contrast of crème whitepages adorned with delicate floral designs.   Perhaps a metaphor of the feminist issues  explored within? Then, unwittingly, I stumbled upon the retrospective poems penned by Joanne Ball and Karen Monte.  Ball’s poem, “Beginnings” is denotable for exploring the controversial issue of abortion from the female  perspective.  Ball’s authentic portrayal of unplanned pregnancy directly challenges  the traditional picture of the Brady Bunch family-unit that was spoon-fed to pop-culture at the time.
            The transcendent issue of women’s anatomical  rights provides the nexus between Ball’s work and the current Presidential Administration.  The insidious proposal of legislation to overturn Roe v. Wade has been a constant threat of regression on a woman’s right to choose today.  In the Supreme court case Roe v. Wade 1973, women were finally given the fundamental rights to their bodies, and the issue still remains politically pervasive today. Ball’s prose illustrates the internal grappling of her narrator:

I shared my sorrow with you,
pumping it out
in the small black room
where my fathers stored his suits.

Ball’s depiction of the physical and emotional undertaking of her narrator, retorts the social perceptions of the ‘callous and selfish woman’. The Supreme Court’s  ruling on  Roe v. Wade, dealt a progressive blow to the societal construct that even in the early stages of conception there is a “right to life”.  Though it has been nearly four decades since women have attained  anatomical rights, the same shame tactics, and puritanical views of pre-marital sex remain implemented within society this day and age.  Inscape’s publication of reproductive choice during the highly provocative time of the 1970’s, embodies the magazine’s bold commitment to authentic artistic reflection on current political themes. Another work  of mention that parallels the themes of women and social constructs resides in the work of author Karen Monte.
           Monte’s poem, “Mother” explores the strained relationship of a mother and daughter.  The depiction of a fragmented home captures the shift away from the familial ideals of the 1970’s.  Monte’s speaker struggles to distinguish an identity separate from her mother. As the speaker recalls her childhood and her mother’s painful quips, Monte divulges the societal hindrances of  sexual objectification and ill-formulated values of identity. As Monte depicts on lines thirteen through fifteen:

You must have hated me
when I was in your womb.
I made you ugly….

The narrator’s perception of her mother’s superficial priorities illustrates the societal pressures of being an attractive woman. This theme is elaborated further with the description of the mother’s “red lipstick, black dress and spiked heels”, and unveil the origin of the narrator’s identity conflict. When juxtaposed, Ball and Monte’s poems appear to chasm in relation, but a comprehensive read uncovers the thematic unification of women grappling with societal gender constraints.  Both authors’ works resonate and maintain relevance four decades after publication.  Unfortunately, these perpetual issues remain imposed on women in today’s society. Traditional stereotypes of gender bias are a standby in the Trump Administration arsenal, which has employed women's rights like a Machiavellian chest piece. The U.S President’s insulting rhetoric, as it pertains to the female aesthetic, reinforces the regressive and negative old tones women struggled with for so long, while demonstrating his Administration’s skewed views of what gender equality represents.

         The civil rights movements of the 1970’s, ushered in scores of women that commandeered gender equality. The PCC Inscape 1977 Fall issue emphasizes the importance of providing a platform for artists to express the issues of their time that may have been deemed too controversial for many publishers.  It should not come as a surprise to discover the striking parallels between the retrospective issues of this Inscape issue and the current events of 2017.  Along with the corrosion of women’s anatomical rights, the nexus is also observable in the presidential corruption marked by the Russian-Trump Investigations and the Nixon Watergate Scandal.  The work of PCC Inscape contributors Joanne Ball and Karen Monte demonstrate PCC Inscape's dedication to diverse and significant works that reflect views of both PCC’s academic body and the regional community at large.
         Mother
1.  I wrote you a letter.
    My Christmas obligation is               fulfilled.
    I wonder what you’re doing
    in your small house,
    in your Vegas club.
    How much money did you lose      today,
    how much alcohol did you             drink?
    Since you didn’t write back,
    my hands are rained clean.
    I wish it would rain on
    my body too,
    my head, heart, and pen.
 
2. You must have hated me
    when I was in your womb.
    I made you ugly,
    fatter than you already were.
   You must have hate me
   when brother was sick.
   I was three and in the way.
   You covered your ears
   with your hands,
   hearing his screams of pain
   and my infantile crying,
   simultaneously.
 
   You must have hated me
   when I would break in
   with my childish
   “Stop, stop!”
   as father and you fought.
   I ran from your screams,
   and the hailing dishes.
   I took one in the foot.
   I can not erase the
   scares.
 
   I have the ugly doll
   you gave me our last
   Christmas
   seventeen years ago.
   This year in celebration
   I will attempt to burn it,
   as I have the last
   five years.
   I will burn my picture of you.
   Your eyes sharp,
   lipstick (blood) red,
   dress (dead) black
   and the three-inch spiked heels.
   Posing with father wrapped in        your arm,
   you held me in your lap.
 
4. For Christmas, Mother,
    I will give you
    back your name,
    the one you gave me
    after yourself,
    proudly,
    thinking maybe I’d be like you,
    that I’d want to.
    For Christmas
    I will give myself a
    name.
​
    - Karen Monte
    Beginnings
I.  I didn’t want you, child,
    hid your secret
    like a small white lie
    for months.
    But I grew like a pink balloon,
    flushed with light,
    into something more than lies.
 
    Big barrel box
    on legs,
    clothes couldn’t hide you;
    you stirred with flutter kicks,
    swelling and demanding life.
 
    I was alone because of you,
    Because of him.
    Remember him?
               
    Curiosity lost

    while Robert Redford watched
    from the all night drive-in               screen.
 
II.  
Last night I let you go
     You died with a bright red              flush,
     a gushing strain
     that belied your secret                    beginnings
 
     I shared my sorrow with you,
     pumping it out
     in the small black room
     where my fathers stored his            suits.
 
     They say is was wrong to do,
     the flat-bellied nurses,
     and tall young men in whites.
     But what do they know
     of beginnings,
     and the growth of a small                white lies?
 
     - Joanne Ball 
Picture
0 Comments
Forward>>
    IMPORTANT NOTE:
    PCC Inscape Magazine, housed at Pasadena City College, is following Coronavirus protocols. At this time our staff continues to read submissions and publish web content. 
     

    Note:

    Blog Posts reflect the opinions of the writer and not the opinions of Pasadena City College or Inscape Magazine Editorial Staff Members.
    Guest Bloggers are invited to submit blog posts of up to 1000 words or pitch a blog series to pccinscape@gmail.com

    Archives

    June 2021
    May 2021
    April 2021
    March 2021
    June 2020
    May 2020
    April 2020
    December 2019
    November 2019
    October 2019
    September 2019
    June 2019
    May 2019
    April 2019
    March 2019
    November 2018
    October 2018
    May 2018
    April 2018
    March 2018
    February 2018
    December 2017
    November 2017
    October 2017
    September 2017
    November 2016
    October 2016
    September 2016

    Categories

    All
    Guest Blogger
    Inscape
    Interview
    Review
    Series
    Short Story

    RSS Feed

Proudly powered by Weebly
Photo used under Creative Commons from CircaSassy
  • Online Issue No. 10
  • About
    • PCC Inscape Instagram
  • SUBMISSIONS
  • ISSUE ARCHIVE
    • Online Issue No.9
    • 2016 Fall Online
    • 2016 Sppring Online
    • 2017 Fall Online
    • 2017 Print Issue - Manifesto TOC
    • 2018 Fall Print Issue - Frankenstein TOC
    • 2018 FA Frankenstein Companion
    • 2018 Summer Online
    • 2018 Fall Folio - VOTE
    • 2018 Fall Spirituality
    • 2019 Celebrating Dia De Los Muertos
    • 2019 SPR Mental Health Companion >
      • Issue Intro
    • 2019 Fall Folio -- Moon Moon
    • 2019 Fall Folio
    • 2020 Summer Folio
    • 2020 Feb Folio
    • 2021 Feb Folio
  • Feral Parrot : The Blog
  • 2022 Handley Awards
  • INTERVIEWS
  • Inscape Alumni Board