Musezine 16

m usez i n e 16
#16

M usez i n e
Work by:
Nicol Williams
Hadiza Kassim
Dalena Hoang
Destiny Alvarado
Clarence Killbrew
Onieja Taylor
Kelisha Cyrus
Kwadwo Asamoah
Eric Avila
Alvaro Ceballos
Gertrudiz Mendoza
Jasheah Howard
Brianna Brown
Guest Teen Council
Alumni:
Abiel Wilson
Edited by:
a p r o d uct io n o f: T h e B r o nx M use um
o f t h e A rt s' T een C o un c il.
16Created in 2005, the Bronx Museum Teen Council
strives to make contemporary art and culture
accessible to urban youth.
Structured around the production of MuseCasts, and
MuseZines, the Teen Council is comprised of a group
of high school students working closely with two
instructors in the Museum’s Media Lab. Scheduled
concurrently with the school year, this 8-month
program provides teens with an open forum for the
expression of ideas and dialogue on issues affecting
young people, and the promotion of the Bronx as an
important cultural, political and artistic force.
Visit us at:
www.bxmateens.tumblr.com
www.bronxmuseum.org
www.facebook.com/bronxteencouncil
www.youtube.com/bronxteencouncil
Hannie Chia
Hatuey Ramos Fermín
The Bronx Museum of the Arts’ Edcucation Programs and
Teen Council is made possible with support from The Leona
M. and Harry B. Helmsley Charitable Trust, Stavros Niarchos
Foundation, Pierre and Tana Matisse Foundation, The David
Rockefeller Fund, Simón Bolívar Foundation, New York State
Council on the Arts with the support of Governor Andrew
Cuomo and the New York State Legislature; Keith Haring
Foundation, Robert Lehman Foundation; New York Yankees
Community Council; and The Peter Jay Sharp Foundation.

Onieja
collage?
By Onieja Taylor

China Doll
by Dalena Hoang
“Hey, my China Doll.”
He says to me.
I stopped and stared into his windows.
He smiled.
For that moment, he had the universe in the palm
of his right hand and me in his left.
The first second our eyes locked:
China? Chinese? Really?
Okay, I assume that it is your mistake to declare
my ethnicity
Because of my slightly slanted eyes.
Unless you meant...[Sigh]
I do not belong behind closed glass cabinet doors.
Left as a displayed object
Gathering dust
Because I am too delicate to touch
And if you get too close,
It might just crack and crumble.

You can glue it back,
but it will never be the same.
I will not crack, crumble, or fall.
You can’t fix what is not broken,
Can you?
I am not nor will I ever be an empty vessel
for anyone to stuff their unmentionables inside of
me.
I do not need you to brush my hair
Or dress me.
I am capable of standing on my own two feet
Firmly pressed against the ground.
And I will not smile
When I don’t want to.
I am not a manufactured pseudo-ideology
Placed on society
Spreading out like water without a fixed container,
When the world is where it is being contained in.
I will not become the image you have attempted to
mold me into,

An inanimate object cold to the touch.
Your perfection is nonexistence
Just like relationship you’ve began to form in the
back of your mind.
I do not belong to you or any other living being.
I am a human being with rights.
Not the rights that were set
To drown me of my potentials
Because you’re too afraid to see yourself in my
eyes.
I am not a piece of paper
For you to write your name on
And claim me as your possession.
You can spit my name as many times as you want
But I will never obey your demands.
You are as wrong as the Geocentric Theory
If you believed that you had the key to my body.
Like the universe,
I was never yours to begin with.

Interview
Sneak Peek
on
Lady k fever
By Lexandra Ramos
Do you get more respect for being a female artist?
I feel that I do receive more respect. In the beginning I felt that I was
treated as notoriety, kind of cute, like it was a phase or I was doing
it to impress a man. Now I know it is difficult for a lot of people to
understand and to truly respect what I am doing as a female in a
world that is still struggling with the idea of equality.
At what age did you start drawing?
I started drawing as a kid on everything and by everything I mean
walls, furniture, anything I could get my hands on. I started painting
in high school and I was an obnoxious, rebellious art student
challenging the status quo, but my career focus was dance and
theatre. I began to paint graffiti and murals in 1991 when I moved to
Vancouver, Canada.

Who was your inspiration when you started drawing
& who is your inspiration now?
My inspiration to make art was from the traditional side of Art
History. In high school, we studied intensive art history, so I am
thankful to have that foundation. I was inspired by all the greats –
van Gogh, Picasso, Monet, and then I got into Andy Warhol when I
was 14, which lead me into so many other artists, musicians, writers
and poets. My inspirations are now a variety of things and at times
contradictory. From political/social justice issues, to street/hood issues,
fashion, style, oral culture, sexuality issues, emotions, life experiences,
artists and their process, films, theatre, music...
What advice can you give me when it comes to
publishing my work out there & to be known?
Truly understand your worth as an artist and that it takes a lifetime
to understand. Make sure you feel that you are being represented
respectfully and no one is taking advantage of you or your work.
What’s your nationality?
I do not really identify with a nationality. I am first generation
Canadian and I feel as many first generation people do there is
a loss of tradition when adjusting to a new country. I identify with
being a human being and when I fill out applications I always mark
OTHER.

For you was school necessary to be successful in
art?
Yes and no. I studied theatre and film because I felt that I did not
want to go to art school at that time. I did eventually study part-time
and with artists as their studio assistants to get a better vernacular
of my artistic process. I feel and think that going to any type of
post-secondary school is important. A college or university education
provides people with opportunities they might never have had
before. School also allows you to experiment and make mistakes.
What kind of stereotypes do you get about being
an artist?
I have had them all. I have had to re-evaluate everything. What
make me frustrated is most times the stereotypes can come from
the closest people to you. I like to challenge those barriers. I definitely
get stuck into categories that I did not co-sign onto, but I enjoy
being able to show that stereotypes are illusions based on fear. The
fear of success is far greater than the fear of failure.
How did you get a chance to get your work published
throughout Brooklyn & the Bronx?
When I was on the streets, the world was a magical playground;
the alleys provided this embrace of being alive. I had no concept of
making this into a career passion.
Watch the full video interview
www.youtube.com/bronxteencouncil

By Nicol Williams

Continued...

I am my own Stereotype
By Onieja Taylor
“The following students missed detention and
their days have doubled,” is the announcement I
hear every morning during homeroom. As my Dean
calls the names of those students, I realize
that when I’m in detention I don’t really belong
there. Detention is stereotyped as a place
where the “bad students” go when they have done
“bad things”, like disrespecting the teacher or
talking back. When I go to detention I’m there
for lateness, or not having my I.D. Detention
in my school is more like an after school program
rather than an actual punishment.
At the beginning of freshman year in high
school, I went in being a great student. The
deans barely knew me, the teachers described
me as a respectful student and Detention wasn’t
even in my vocabulary. As the months went on
“Sasha Fierce” was one of the names you heard on
the loud speaker daily. “Sasha Fierce, you have
missed detention and your days have doubled.”
“Sasha Fierce please have your planner signed and
report to the Deans office now.” “Sasha Fierce,
you were late and detention will be served on
Friday.” My first experience with “detention”
probably took place in my Religion class. Yes,
my religion class. My teacher seemed to really
have it out for me and I never understood why.
My friend asked me to pass her an empty water
bottle and as I passed it to her, she missed it.
“You have Detention,” the three words I heard
for the first time ever. I was in such awe. I
was never known to get in trouble. As I sat

in Detention that day, I felt like a disrespectful
student. I felt like this was a place
where I knew I didn’t belong. The worst part
was our “punishment”: We had to copy every
word of a newspaper article in SCRIPT and if
we messed up we had to start over. After that
I promised myself that I would never be in
that terrible place again. I guess that didn’t
work.
As freshman year passed, I had multiple encounters
with detention. Sophomore year passed
and I was still in that terrible place. Now
in my junior year, I still have a reserved
spot. Why? As hard as I try to not end up in
that place at the end of my day, somehow my
name still ends up on the roster. My latest
offense: not having my school I.D. I mean it
was my fault that I lost it, but why should
I be punished with having to sit in that room
everyday until I pay for a new one. Everyday
until I purchased a new I.D., my homeroom
teacher repeatedly wrote me a detention slip.
I was forced once again to sit there in that
room to spend countless minutes of my time in
Detention.
Detention, to me, should be a place where
the actual “bad students” go to be punished,
and for the good students like me, we truly
don’t deserve detention. For those students
who actually get good grades and actually do
their work, we should be respected as such.
We shouldn’t be placed upon the same group
of students who essentially disrespect their
teacher, or skip class because it’s those students
that fit the actual stereotype of detention.
But for me, I am my own stereotype.

By Brianna Brown

The Bronx Museum of the Arts
1040 Grand Concourse
D or 4 Train to 161st Yankee Stadium
www.bronxteens.weebly.com
education@bronxmuseum.org
718-681-6000 x 132
By Kelisha Cyrus
I cannot stand here and see our mothers weep
Weep over the bodies of sins of our children scream
over the gifts of bullets that envelope itself into the
innocence of our bodies
And pierces the bloody gates of our soul
I cannot stand to see our father’s anger
As we see his daughter kneel on the floor of genocide
To give pleasure to a man she doesn’t even know
As she stands upon mercies pole and strips off each
layer of protection
To show her birthday suit to the men of greed and lust
And I cannot stand to see our parents cry
When they see their children swallow pills of despair
and insecurity
To hide behind the darkness that frees us from the
hate of words that creep at us from every corner

Free museum
Alvaro