The GEM Journal

The GEM journal initiative was created by the 2023 Communications Officer, Fernanda Solorza (she/her). 

She wanted to provide a space for members of the GEM community to share their stories and art as previous GEM publications had done, such as The Emily, Ain’t I a Woman?, and Thirdspace.

While the submission rate has remained low, we are still excited to continue with this initiative. Fernanda’s dream is to eventually become a small campus publication just like its predecessors.

2024 Submissions

November 2023 – Pilot Launch.

Gender Is a Lot Like Physics

Anonymous submission

Do you know what my favourite physics experiment is?
The double slit experiment.
It goes back centuries and is simple in theory
Shine a beam of light through a set of two slits
And the pattern it produces is like a wave.
It overlaps and interferes with itself,
With crests and troughs as a wave should have,
And so everyone was happy that light behaved as a wave.

I am the light shone through the two slits.
I see myself in skirts and blouses,
I see the crest of my chest and the troughs of my figure,
And I behave just as the light should
And so everyone was happy that I behaved as a girl.

However, when new physics was discovered,
They repeated this again, but different.
They shone a beam of electrons at the set of slits
And expected them to fall in two neat piles
As if falling grains of sand
However, the pattern it produced was that of a wave.
With the same peaks and troughs, and beautiful overlap
Everyone was confused, but everyone was curious.

I am the electrons shone through two slits.
I see myself in shirts and trousers,
I feel the weight of my voice and wish it was deeper,
I feel my height and wish it was steeper.
I no longer behaved as was expected,
Everyone was confused but encouraging.

Physics got stranger again when they attempted to measure these waves,
These strange and lovely electron waves,
That do not behave at all as expected.
They set up a detector, and repeated the experiment,
But now these particles acted like falling grains of sand,
Forming two neat piles.
These particles could detect when they were being observed,
And changed their behaviour accordingly.
Now we do not know if they behave as waves, particles,
Or as something else entirely.
Everyone is confused, and excited about it.

I am the light and I am the particles.
I behave as I will; as a girl, as a boy, or something else entirely.
I see myself, and I am just that: myself.
If I am questioned or observed,
I have no good explanations for myself.
I might in fact just change to annoy you.
I am not confused, and I am happy.
Because you see, gender is an awful lot like physics.
It’s all relative.

December 2023 – Pilot Launch II.

Otherlocks: Self Portrait

Eric Willis (they/them)

Its the morning after, I wake up before you,

My eyes adjust to the brightness of your bedroom,

I look around, strands of my hair cover the white duvet,

I lose myself for a moment in the black-and-white spirals.

When I was young, maybe 11 or 12, I distinctly recall a feeling of crisis, the hairs on my body were multiplying, growing thicker, growing viral, something was changing, and I feared change. In the corner of my bedroom, at the end of my single mattress, surrounded by windows, I kneel and approach the wooden sewing bench, I lift up the padded cushion to reveal the disposable baby-blue razor I had stolen from my parents’ lavatory. I graze the titanium blades slowly up my stomach, and with each centimetre, black clouds fall to the carpeted floor.

That year at school Mr. Davidson was my health teacher and he was perfect. His grey athletic t-shirt stretches over his hairy chest, as though he had just left the gym, pumped up and swollen. All my girlfriends think he’s a creep, they are freaked out by his gaze, yet I can’t help but feel envious. Today’s lesson is on secondary sex characteristics, he stands erect at the overhead projector, swapping out transparencies, he stops at the image of the cross-sections of skin used to teach children about hair follicles and tells us a story about the time he wanted to be hairy just like his dad, every day you would shave your face thinking it would speed up the natural process, you laugh and rub the dense stubble on your chin. I am not prepared for what happens next, you roll up your sleeve and show the class the dark bush in the nape of your armpit. I hold onto this memory as I enter your name into Google later that evening, only to come across the photos of you and your fiancé on Facebook. You don’t know this but you’re a yeti living in the peaks of my sexual desire.

I snap out of it and get up from your bed, I go to the kitchen for some water.

With the only glass in my right hand, I stand naked behind the full-length windows on the twelfth floor of your minimalist downtown apartment. With my left hand, I extend my arm into the sky, I reach back and feel my hair, now in frizzy knots. The contrast is evident, last night my hair transformed from curly velvet tassels to tangled macramé, do-it-yourself arts and crafts, the ultimate beginner’s guide.

You don’t know I always wash my hair before I see you because I know how much you enjoy running your fingers through these floating German locks. When I am in the shower I remember when you told me my hair reminds you of The Birth of Venus, you said Sandro Botticelli would die again for the opportunity to paint my hair. It has been said that viewers of the painting have felt their minds lifted to the realm of divine love. The camera pans out, and I am standing in the shower like a statue in my classical contrapposto stance, just like Venus, with my clamshell soap. With dowry eyes and a soft face, my mind is lost within the world of imagination where fifteenth-century paintings are of non-binary divinity. Like Venus’s, my body is an improbability. Non-binary existence outside the gender binary is hegemonically unintelligible. There is more to heaven than gods and goddesses yet, colonized eyes see only the duality of man and not the infinity of being.

You are not the first being who has been lost in my locks. I promised another guy just yesterday that I would never buzz it all off again. I wonder where they all go when they are in my hair. I picture a pink portal at the centre of my being, it is emitting gay-ma rays through dark space. I am no longer human. I am a non-monogamist. I will not be responsible for only a single hairstyle. I fantasize about turning bald men on with a naughty braid or an exposé on messy buns. Vicariously use me for your dandy fun.

I turn back around, enter the bedroom, get into bed, and position myself as the little spoon beside you, you place your arm across my body and squeeze.

“Good morning Shiny One,” you say. Your nickname for me is Shiny One because, on our first date, you said you could see something inside me. Then you did MDMA, and I came to you on the trip surrounded by light. Some neurologists believe people can perceive auras because of effects within the brain or with the influence of psychedelic drugs. It is also said individuals with a strong aura have a clear sense of their life’s goals and aspirations. When I was 5 maybe 6, I used to cry under my bedsheets every night because I knew I was different, this difference was not yet named but I was sure it would prevent me from knowing love. I think I have always had a deep understanding of my purpose, to know, give and receive love in all manifestations, so I squeeze you back.

Fin.

Artist Statement

Eric Willis is a non-binary, queer, white settler of German, Irish and Scottish descent living on the traditional homelands of the Songnees, Esquimalt and W̱SÁNEĆ nations. They have studied Gender Studies and Applied Ethics at the University of Victoria. Eric is an amateur illustrator and lover of contemporary art. “Otherlocks: Self Portrait” is their first experiment with creative non-fiction. They found a great deal of inspiration from “Otherhood” (2022), a written piece by Serena Lukas Bhandar that utilizes the form of creative non-fiction to embrace narrative and poetics and create a beautifully vulnerable essay about expressing self-love, self-ownership and self-authorship of one’s body. Furthermore, while on the hunt for trans stories about hair Eric was directed to Vivek Shraya’s collection of illustrated creative non-fiction stories titled God Loves Hair (2010). Shraya’s ability to explore relationships, sexuality, gender, religion, childhood and adolescence is an unprecedented example of offering our many selves compassion in a strange unsensible world. Last but not least, Eric takes inspiration from Syrus Marcus Ware’s interview for the Feminist Art Field School (AGGV, 2021) in which activism is defined as temporary moments in space. Eric attempts to embody Ware’s wisdom by exploring queer space, time, place and history through the autonomous zone of the page in hopes of a congruency between self-reflection and change-making.

References

Art Gallery of Greater Victoria. (2021). “Feminist Art Field School – Syrus Marcus Ware.” YouTube.

Bhandar, S.K. (2022). “Otherhood.” The Chrysalis: Imagining Reproduction and Parenting Futures Beyond the Binary. Demeter Press.

Shraya, V. (2010). God Loves Hair. Illustrated by Neufeld, J.; edited by Friesen, K. & Maureen, H.; design by Campos, K.

The Birth of Venus. (2023, November 1). In Wikipedia.

Collage

Alynne Sinnema (she/her)

When I worked as a high school teacher at a boarding school this past year, I was constantly feeling like myself, my younger female colleagues and the young girls I was teaching were treated as lesser than the young men and boys. It manifested in subtle ways and ended with a big blowup between our male-identifying and female-identifying students at the end of the semester. I often felt trapped and disempowered while living away from home, and would express myself through collaging with whatever paper I found in the art room!

Artist Statement

Alynne Sinnema is pursuing her Master’s of Applied Theatre at UVic. She is currently planning to create a thesis project that aims to use applied theatre to empower women to advocate for their sexual needs and wants, as women’s pleasure is often overlooked. In her free time Alynne is often found at a circus studio, doing aerial silks!

January 2024

New Beginnings and Activism Resolutions: Exploring fresh starts, personal growth, and resolutions within the context of activism and social change.

Is my Pain a Privilege?

Kara Orcherton (she/her)

A Life living for the pleasure of a man is unpleasurable for a woman, and all of our humanity. What a hoax. I would rather be a slave to capitalism than listen like a child, only to be a man’s sex doll. Why can’t I be a little girls doll? One she dresses up,

and praises, just as much?

Why can’t I be my own doll? 

But I can, but I would like to be played with, just nicely. Play nice with me and I will let you break my bones, of course so long as you are happy about it. Be nice with me and I won’t feel disabled by my fractured joints. 

Be Nice to me

and I will be a slave to your salvation as your kindness will frees and heals me. I am not a slave, i am not a doll, I am still a victim of capitalism, but I am still a joyful woman.

When I was a child, I longed for womanhood and breasts especially, but maybe that is just because I am a little gay. I longed for my own development, without wincing… It has been a long time since. Being a woman is seeking pleasure from the pain your world brings me, but maybe it is also nothing of the sort. 

At times, being a doll sounds simpler, no?

Artist Statement

“I was watching the tv series, ‘1923’, a specific scene prompted me to right this in the early morning… before I’d even had my coffee, funny how oppression is motivating…”

“I’m a young woman, born and raised (in part) in Ottawa, Ontario – on unceded, Algonquin land. Though, I’ve lived most of my life on Lekwungen land, on Vancouver Island. I am a settler and my partner, my best friend, is Tsilhqot’in… I live in, and preach solidarity for all. I love shiny things and I love my cats. My favourite colour is green, but it also depends on my mood. #Virgo.”

February 2024

Black Feminism: Examining the intersection of feminism, discussing the empowerment of Black women and envisioning and equitable future.

Although we didn’t receive any submissions this month (my bad, I didn’t post a call out for submissions), I still wanted to share a bit from all the amazing Black Feminists that have made our world better with their activism, thoughts, and passion.
I encourage you to read and verse yourself in the work from these women! To start, here’s a free PDF of Patricia Hill Collins’ Black Feminist Thought
-Fernanda. 

March 2024

Women’s History Month: Highlighting the contributions and experiences of women, trans, non-binary, and gender-non-conforming people and their ongoing fight for gender equality.

Growing up in Mexico is hard. Growing up in Mexico as a woman is even harder. I grew up with my defenses up, with my mother never allowing me to go to slumber parties because you never know.
On average, there are 10 femicides per day in Mexico, every day you hear a new case of a missing woman, and for years, justice was something inconceivable.
Women’s Day holds incredible weight in my soul. I decided to translate “the hymn” of Mexican Women’s Day for you. You can listen to Vivir Quintana’s song, here.

-Fernanda. 

Canción sin miedo—“Song without Fear” By Vivir Quintana.

Translation by Fernanda Solorza

Que tiemble el Estado, los cielos, las calles
May the state tremble, the skies, the streets
Que tiemblen los jueces y los judiciales
May the judges and police tremble
Hoy a las mujeres nos quitan la calma
Today women were stole their calm
Nos sembraron miedo, nos crecieron alas
They instilled fear in us, we grew wings
A cada minuto, de cada semana
By every minute, of every week
Nos roban amigas, nos matan hermanas
They steal our girlfriends, they kill our sisters
Destrozan sus cuerpos, los desaparecen
They destroy their bodies, they make them disappear
No olvide sus nombres, por favor, señor presidente
Don’t forget their names, please, Mr. President
Por todas las compas marchando en Reforma
For all the gals marching in Reforma
Por todas las morras peleando en Sonora
For all the girls fighting in Sonora
Por las comandantas luchando por Chiapas
For the commanders fighting for Chiapas
Por todas las madres buscando en Tijuana
For all the mothers searching in Tijuana
Cantamos sin miedo, pedimos justicia
We sing without fear, we ask for justice
Gritamos por cada desaparecida
We scream for every missing woman
Que resuene fuerte “¡nos queremos vivas!”
Let it resonate loudly “we want us alive!”
Que caiga con fuerza el feminicida
Let the feminicide fall with force
Yo todo lo incendio, yo todo lo rompo
I will burn everything, I will break everything
Si un día algún fulano te apaga los ojos
If one day a nobody turns off your eyes
Ya nada me calla, ya todo me sobra
Nothing silences me anymore, all is worthless
Si tocan a una, respondemos todas
If they touch one, we’ll all respond
Soy Claudia, soy Esther y soy Teresa
I’m Claudia, I’m Esther and I’m Teresa
Soy Ingrid, soy Fabiola y soy Valeria
I’m Ingrid, I’m Fabiola and I’m Valeria
Soy la niña que subiste por la fuerza
I’m the girl you took by force
Soy la madre que ahora llora por sus muertas
I’m the mother who now cries for her dead daughters
Y soy esta que te hará pagar las cuentas
And I’m the one who’ll make you pay
¡Justicia, justicia, justicia!
Justice, justice, justice!
Y retiemble en sus centros la tierra
And may the earth at its core tremble
Al sororo rugir del amor
To the sorority roar of love

April 2024

Earth Day and environmental justice: Examining the intersectionality of feminism and environmentalism, focusing on eco-feminism and the impact on marginalized communities.

We are one with the environment. Nature is a precursor of who as humans we become, and like all the interconnectedness of the world, environmental justice plays an essential role in the intersectionality of one’s identity and privilege.

“Climate change is a threat multiplier that risks exacerbating existing societal inequities. In our violently patriarchal society, this means that women, girls, trans people, and non-binary and gender-nonconforming people, who are already particularly vulnerable to human rights violations, are made even more so by climate change. Climate change and its harms fall disproportionately on women, girls, trans, and non-binary and gender-nonconforming people in low-income communities and communities of color due to a systematic lack of access to economic and healthcare resources, a product of historical and current racism and classism in the United States.”

Exert from: Reproductive Justice Is Environmental Justice

-Fernanda. 

Photography through the seasons and around the Salish Sea.

Zoe Kyrie, (they/them)

Forest Happenings

Zoe Kyrie, (they/them)

My body was made to be consumed;

to be put to rest gently on the forest floor. 

I am a great feast for a coyote and her pack.

They rejoice and gorge on me with the ferocity of not knowing when the next meal will come.

Share me with whoever asks.

Scavenger birds rip my flesh haphazardly.

This will be their only meal here before the tides go high.

My blood falls from their mouths and onto the canopy below as they fly.

Pay no attention to the parts of me lost .

Flies nest in my flesh, finding it suitable as a home for their young.

Larvae hatch and eat their way out of me

Hungry little ones.

Let me be your first meal.

Fungi sense the commotion through their underground communication systems, 

sending a fruit to break me down and absorb me.

Engulf my body until I am no longer.

Soil readily accepts my nitrogen, gifting it to the surrounding flora 

who wield my energy for the good of the forest. 

Use me for your growth. 

Eat eat eat eat eat! 

I am thankful that you do. 

My body was made to be consumed but 

I beg of you hungry man, 

Kill me first. 

Continuation of Photography through the seasons and around the Salish Sea.

Zoe Kyrie, (they/them)

Artist Statement

Originally from Vancouver, Zoe studies geography and environmental studies at Uvic. They love learning about the land and the beings it sustains. Photography and art is one way they show their love for the land.

Eco-Feminist Painiting Workshop

To celebrate this month’s theme, GEM decided to host an eco-feminist painting workshop by rock-painting native flowers.