Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Scarlet Magazine Summer 2015
Scarlet Magazine Summer 2015
SUMMER 2015
MAKING HISTORY
A TRIBUTE TO
DR. SAMATAR
Rutgers - Newark
remembers an
influential educator
WHERE ARE
WE GOING?
WAR MEMOIR
TABLE OF
CONTENTS
8
16
20
24
30
34
40
44
46
52
War Memoir
Making History
A World Away
Poor Choices
Power in Modesty
FROM
THE
EDITOR
People who want to be journalists are like people who want to be the president theyre absolutely crazy. I signed up for sleepless nights and anxiety-filled deadlines.
On most days, the only thing that keeps me sane is the stale coffee in my mug. On
good days, Id catch someone who wont flake on me ten minutes before an interview
or get cursed out when conducting a man-on-the-street (I mean, at least they didnt
ignore me).
My pursuit of journalism comes from a deep rooted passion for people, knowledge,
and communication. I have a love for writing and have developed a love for photo
and video journalism. I live to tell peoples stories and to act as a megaphone for the
underrepresented. Journalism is necessary. In an egocentric world, it is important to
remain informed about your surrounding community, the world, and humanity.
With graduation around the corner, I am happy to have worked with such stellar staff
on Scarlet Magazine. Thank you to my writers, editors, and designers, some of which
have become my close friends. I am thankful to have produced a magazine that I can
proudly say, engaged the Rutgers-Newark community.
As my sense of community grows, I hope to develop my talents in the work force. My
sincere hope is that you, dear reader, will have the courage to do the same. Passion,
drive, and bravery cannot be taught. I hope that you utilize your skills to pursue a life
you truly want, despite any obstacles that may come your way. If you fail, live with
peace knowing that you gave it your all.
So yes, I am crazy. I signed up to see the world, whether in my own backyard, another
hemisphere, or another person. I signed up to be at the forefront of history (and
truthfully, hope this wont be the last editors letter that I write). We as a generation,
will be the next in line to revolutionize our fields of study and we will succeed.
CREDITS
Editor-in-Chief
Kristine Villanueva
Executive Editor
Ashley Okwuosa
Writers
Sarah Hastings
Chaden Noureddine
Evan Le Blanc
Maxine Macias
Ashley Okwuosa
Helena Ruiz
Kristine Villanueva
Carlos Zambrano
Editors
Maxine Macias
Allyza Umali
Evan Le Blanc
Faculty Advisors
Chantal Fischzang
Robin Gaby Fisher
Creative
Art Director
Associate
Art Director
Christian Guerrero
Designers
Sarah Barcelos
Karen May Cunanan
Daniel Jamroz
Christian Guerrero
Faten Sumrien
Tinhinane Khelifi
Faten Sumerien
Ryan J. Saavedra
Lauren Menses
Rochelle Anne Bernal
Photographers
Jedd Kristjan
Denia Edwin
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SUMMER 2015 | 3
PAPER
HEARTS
By: Kennia Joseph, 2014
4 | SCARLET MAGAZINE
SUMMER 2015 | 5
Deep in the woods she listens for life, hoping someone will save her
Trapped by a dense forest filled with sky high trees
Running.
Voices echo, leaves rattle and branches break; shes by herself
Stopping
She listens for life, hoping that it is her imagination
Alone
Darkness falls and quiet night brings all her nightmares to life
Deep breaths and quick paces, she goes in circles trying to find a way out
Falling deeper into this endless dream
Lifeless
Hoping and wishing but to no avail
The wind is chilling her to the depths of her bones
Tired of running circles, she waits
Waiting....
Deep breaths
Tranquility
Life
Granted
She waits
Found ...when she stopped running.
SUMMER 2015 | 7
MEMORY
SLICER
Once my friends look closely enough at my right hand, they notice a scar on my middle
finger. Im always asked how I got it, and I usually say it was from a nasty paper cut.
Other times, I say I cut myself when I was helping my mother to cook. She doesnt
let me use knives anymore, I say. Then I would jokingly talk about how my terrible
chopping skills put me at a disadvantage with finding a husband. How did I really get
it? Its a long story.
I was born in New Jersey. I have two older sisters and a younger brother. I did not know
there was life outside of the United States until I grew old enough to understand that we
had relatives in Lebanon, my parents native country. They decided that we (my mother
and siblings) should live there for a while to learn more about our religion and culture.
We first arrived in Lebanon in 2001. I was not excited. Jersey was my home. My father
was there and so was my life, which I felt would soon cease to exist. I know it was fear that
made me uneasy. I had to start over. My Arabic was weak, and I had to make new friends.
Five years passed and I went from being a lost puppy to mastering the Lebanese lifestyle.
I loved my school and I adored my friends. It was all going well until we got deeper
into the summer of 2006, which is now the only summer I can remember out of all
my summers in Lebanon.
That August was a sad month. Millions of tourists visit Lebanon yearly. From its stunning
grottos and striking nature reserves, to its eloquent resorts and magnificent historical
landscapes, Lebanon earned its title as the pearl of the Middle East. It crushed me to read
about the death of hundreds of tourists who died in the War of August, as it is called.
What can suck about vacationing is that you think your absence is temporary. The war
lasted a month, and every memory of it lives with me. So, the story of my scar is inscribed
within the telling of my experience in the war of August of 2006.
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SUMMER 2015 | 9
that image of Beirut. I thought Israel was only attacking the south, but I guess
hitting Beirut was a necessity; it is the capital of Lebanon. There I sat, trying to
empathize with the enemy, attempting to find a reason as to why they hit Beirut,
and in return they killed my own.
I didnt sleep that night. If I were able to see the bombing from my room, then
we could be next. I didnt want to die asleep.
Looking at the aftermath of the war from my car window, I realized how much we
take for granted. I was blessed. I had a house waiting for me. We knew this because
my mother was, in some way, told that our building was still intact. People with no
homes, and houses without any people, that was a snippet of the war.
Nothing felt the same. You could smell depression. It ate at our faces.
We finally arrived at our house and my soul shoved its way back into my body.
As I closed the car door, I saw my neighbors. Showered with hugs and kisses, I
was delighted to see their smiles, which beamed like sunrays and struck my heart.
Sadly, this wonderful sight came with a bad memory, and so my forgotten smile
had once again dissipated into a stern glare.
After the night Beirut was bombed, I hated staying in my hotel room, so instead,
I would lock myself in my grandfathers room which was always empty. Finally,
there was a corner for no plus one. It was just the TV and I.
I used to hate the news. If one thing bothered me, it was hearing a bunch of
fancy television voices in flashy attire talking about current events. The figures
would be arguing, yelling, or statically reporting, and I
would be uninterested.
The man sobbed, Look at our children! You caught her in her sleep, he mumbled.
I didnt know what he meant until the camera zoomed into her face. There it was: a smile.
As gray as she was, she had a smile on her face. My heart sank to my feet, I couldnt breathe.
I hoped this was all an act, but I came back to the box, and again I stared. I still
remember it; not just her face, but the whole picture. Just as the picture of the Migrant
Mother is recognizable to millions, this picture of the smiling baby is etched into my
mind. The picture is in grey scale because of the explosion. I wished it was grey because
of a technological regression, but unfortunately, I was able to see the burnt redness that
stained the shirts of the men who were scrambling to save any potential survivors.
I do find it soothing now, that she was smiling. Id like to think she was happy when she
died. Maybe she was playing with a friend, or a sibling, or a parent when the bomb
exploded. Maybe she was sleeping. What if she was dreaming of something that made
her heart flutter and she couldnt help but to smile? The man was right. I think they did
catch her in her sleep.
It took me years to accept this. I was always looking at the situation negatively, that her
life was taken, that no one had a right to keep her from ever smiling again. I remember
her curly black hair hanging lifelessly off her head. It bothered me for years, until the face
that once scared me, that kept me from sleeping, became a face that calmed me. She was
dug up from rubble, well half of her was; and to this day, I still wonder where the rest of
her was hiding. Her box deserved to be full.
Walking away from my neighbors, I closed my eyes so hard, hoping that this memory
would dissipate. We were survivors, but surviving didnt feel that great. Survivors are not
always heroes. I stood in front of the door to my house. It was quiet, and as I turned the
knob, the creaks of the door broke the silence, but I hesitated to enter. I wanted to enjoy
the silence while it lasted. Finally, I decided to walk in.
Looking to my right, I saw that the glass doors of our porch were shattered. I heard a
scream so I turned to my left. Upon entering the kitchen, I saw why my mom had yelled.
She moved the fridge from its original place- inside the kitchen- and onto the porch to
keep the smell from reaching the rest of the house. I cannot describe the smell of the
rotting meat.
There was no electricity for a month, so nothing was preserved. The stench burned my
nostrils. It smelled like sewage, like dead rats. Flies were everywhere and worms slithered
through every opening, but with 50 pounds of Clorox and my mothers years of trained
deep cleaning, the deadly odor would soon go away.
I gazed at the meat again. There was no blood; blood is red, the liquid that had oozed
down the freezer and dripped to the ground was now dry and brown. That meat was
once alive and now it too, was dead. Meat dies when you cook it, when it loses that lively
color, that burning red.
As emotional creatures, human beings are very perceptive to kind gestures. When I see
a smile, I smile back; its reflexive. But one persons happiness can be another persons
misery, and I learned this the hardest way.
SUMMER 2015 | 13
The beautiful weather kept me from changing the channel. No bombs were terrorizing
the people on scene, and there was no smoke filling their lungs. It was sunny and I was
a bit jealous. I wished my heart were at ease. I missed the feeling of waking up and not
wondering whether I might live or die. My heart was always racing.
I saw a soldier and I knew he couldnt be one of ours. I couldnt understand what he was
saying. All I heard was Lebanon. It was then translated. Theyre sending the missiles to
Lebanon. The camera filmed two young girls; neither of them looked older than twelve
years. The girls grabbed a marker and signed their names on the missiles that stood both
taller and broader than the soldier. The camera man asked the girls, where will these
be sent? The girls smiled with not a clue in the world, and joyfully said to the kids in
Lebanon. Every hair on my body stood up.
None of this was fair, none of this made sense. The soldiers face was glowing with pride.
He laughed and took the girls under his arms and they posed for a picture, the missiles
standing in the background. He gleefully smiled and it burned me. How could he sleep at
night? Did he have children?
The missiles were covered with ink; I couldnt see the army green because it was
drenched in signatures. The Israeli soldiers had their children sign the missiles that
would later kill ours. I was repulsed. They bombed our children in the name of theirs.
I cant forget the image. There was something malicious, something cruel about that
scene. I couldnt even see his eyes; he was hidden behind the dark pitch of his Oakleys.
After leaving the kitchen in disgust, I checked out the rest of the house, which was
nauseating. Nothing looked the same, but I had one last stop to make.
I entered the last area of the house: the front porch. I opened the remains of the door. Glass
crunched and cracked under my feet as I walked on to crush what was in my way. I was
speechless, my mind focused on the mess. Glass filled the vicinity of the granite, and I
turned to the door and picked at the last pieces of glass that were still in place. Those
pieces belonged on the floor with the rest. As I forcefully pulled onto one piece of glass
it let loose, but the sharp end of another sliced through my right middle finger. I didnt
feel anything; I just saw blood gushing out my finger and onto the glass that lay helpless
between my shoes. I carefully picked the glass off the floor, and stared at it. I lifted it to
where there was sunlight, and looked through it. The view may seem miraculous through
rose colored glasses, but not so beautiful when its masked with your own blood.
You cant get over what happened; you just learn to deal with it. I dedicate this to all
who passed. May you all rest in peace, and may your families find comfort, one day, if
they have not. There is no evil greater than holding onto anger and resentment. Medicine
can heal you physically, but the memories of your loved ones can patch the wounds of
your burdens.
Every scar has a story. Its 2015 now, and looking down at my finger, I am thanking
myself. The war will live with me forever. The souls of thousands float through the depths
of my scar, and as long as Im alive, I will wear it with pride.
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SUMMER 2015 | 15
HER STORY
DEAN LEI LEI
By Ashley Okwuosa
In the start of the new year , Rutgers Business School welcomed Lei Lei as its
Dean. In the schools almost 100-year history, this marks the first time the position is
being held by a woman.
Lei arrived in Newark over 25 years ago as a young Ph.D. student from University
of Wisconsin Madison. After interviewing with both Rutgers Newark and Virginia
Polytechnic for a faculty position and being offered both jobs in the span of two days,
Lei decided to bring her talents to Brick city.
My fianc worked in Boston, and I wanted to be much closer to him. So I chose
Rutgers. She says. And like they say, the rest is history.
Dean Leis office is situated on the 11th floor of the Rutgers Business School
building at One Washington Park. Her windows give her a clear view of the
sprawling industrial city, on each side of the room is a bookshelf filled with titles like
introduction to operation research, behind her desk is the another shelf, lined with
pictures of her family (a husband, a 22 year old daughter and a 17 year old son) and
congratulatory cards in regards to her historic appointment.
As one of New Jerseys best women in business according to a recent NJ Biz article
and the first ever-female Dean of the business school, Lei has a lot of reasons to
be happy. But today, the broad grin on her face is not in regards to either of those
accolades. A few days ago, she learned US News World Report had just ranked the
Rutgers Business Schools Supply Chain management division #11 in the country
and the overall business school as one of the top 50 in the country.
The Rutgers Center for Supply Chain Management was one Lei founded and acted
as the director for, she was also the chair of the Supply Chain Management and
Marketing Sciences at RBS before going on to become Dean, therefore her immense
pride at this accomplishment is a deeply personal one.
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SUMMER 2015 | 19
ALUMNI:
WHERE ARE
THEY NOW?
CORTNEY
COULANGES
Class of 2013
The point of this all is creative-ish. Its writing in a way, its all
writing, she said. Its going to be for screen or for television.
I want to produce content that I feel is not being produced, I
feel like there is an entire audience and entire movement that
is being neglected by the media. Theres content that needs to
be produced and who else other than me to do it.
The demographic Coulanges aims to highlight with her
work is the same one she tapped into four years earlier with
Scarlet Magazine, the multi-racial, national and dimensional
landscape of the millennial generation.
You look at television shows and its very singular and its
a discussion thats happening now. But if you look around,
especially at schools like Rutgers Newark, thats not what
reality, is. Its so much more than that and why arent there
stories that?
Coulanges penchant for creating uninhibited and necessary
content has served her well before and will serve her well,
again, as she embarks on her journey to tell the stories people
have been waiting to hear.
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SUMMER 2015 | 21
AMANDA A.
EBOKOSIA
Class of 2008
RAJIV D.
PARIKH
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SUMMER 2015 | 23
SENIORS SAY
KAREN
MAY
CUNANAN
GOOD BYE
KRISTINE
VILLANUEVA
Editor-in-Chief
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SUMMER 2015 | 25
ASHLEY
OKWUOSA
ALLYZA LAI
UMALI
Executive Editor
Editor
DANIEL
JAMROZ
Graphic Designer
Sometimes you really feel like you have yourself figured out.
Then you become a graphic designer. Suddenly youve promised
to harmonize the entire world through visual communication.
In the midst of your triumphant quest you conquer designs for
the Scarlet Magazine one spread at a time. You, along with the
other, young designers, gather together to share knowledge,
energy, and experiences. Overtime you realize the truth of
the matter. Scarlet Magazine teaches you that you cannot
solve all the worlds problems alone. You need others to better
understand the world and furthermore, yourself.
26 | SCARLET MAGAZINE
ELMER
GUTIERREZ
Graphic Designer
SUMMER 2015 | 27
JANNEL
VARONA
MAXINE
MACIAS
Editor
Fashion Editor
RYAN J.
SAAVEDRA
Designer
28 | SCARLET MAGAZINE
ROSHNI
ASAWLA
Art Director
SUMMER 2015 | 29
PRESIDENT
BARCHI VISITS
RU-NEWARK
WHILE STUDENTS
WAIT FOR CHANGE
AP Photo
By Kristine Villanueva
Rutgers-Newark had a rare opportunity speak with university
president Robert Barchi and Chancellor Nancy Cantor in an
open forum to address various student concerns.
Held on March 6th, the forum was faint echo of Barchi's last
visit two years ago. Unlike his last open forum, only students
were allowed to speak, major media outlets were not present,
and President Barchi was not armed with a powerpoint
presentation to run out the clock.Though plans to improve the
campus have been implemented, students remain skeptical of
the changes that were promised.
"There's something that came out of it, said Edwin
Rodriguez, a computer science major who spoke at the event.
Rodriguez also felt that Barchi isnt in touch with the Newark
campus and only answered questions with the New Brunswick
campus in mind.
Students at the forum spoke on a wide array of topics from
safety, parking, and wifi. But change may be over the horizon.
Since Barchis last visit, the Newark campus has presented
a strategic and master physical plan to the university Board
of Governors that hopes to engage the campus and the
surrounding community. Both plans have major changes in
mind for the campus for the next five years.
The recently released physical plan includes renderings of a
newly renovated first floor of the Dana Library, which will
include a cafe and digital library.
SUMMER 2015 | 31
SUMMER 2015 | 33
A TRIBUTE TO
DR. SAMATAR
By: Zeinab Said & Carlos Zambrano
34 | SCARLET MAGAZINE
Admired by his
Admired by his
students and
students and fellow
fellow colleagues,
colleagues, Dr.
Dr. Samatar
Samatar proved to
proved to be
be an outstanding
an outstanding
researcher, lecturer,
researcher, lecturer,
and friend.
and friend.
SUMMER 2015 | 35
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Sofia is much like her father and adores the power of words.
I remember seeing Dads vocabulary notebooks around the
house all the time, full of interesting words and phrases hed
collected. I became a collector of words, too - I love unusual
and even obscure words, something I hope isnt too annoying
to my readers, she said.
Dr. Samatars narrative about Africa and Somalia was rich and
complex. It was evocative, and relied on poignant words.
SUMMER 2015 | 37
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Said was the love of my life. He was not supposed to leave us this way,
but he couldnt choose it, she said. My friend told me something and
this sums up exactly how I feel,
The pain that Mrs. Samatar and her family are going through is
unimaginable, but the Rutgers community will also remember his
passing. His students loved him and his colleagues adored and
admired his charm.
The world is less vibrant without Said in it. I will miss him incredibly.
Although Said Samatar was a steadfast member of the RutgersNewark History Department from 1981 until his death, he often
remarked upon his origin as a nomad, Maureen ORourke, Academic
Coordinator, Federated Department of History at NJIT said. He
understood himself as a nomad still.The nomad has moved on.
At Dr. Samatars office, located in Conklin 329, theres a note taped
on the door written by professor Holbrook that reads, For My Friend,
Said- Remembering today and always, with fondness, the wisdom
and the great joy for life that you always so generously shared!! To
paraphrase the words of Amadou Hampate Ba: In Africa, when one of
the elders dies, a library is burnt down.
Dr. Samatars memorial tribute will be held on June 15th from
5:00 - 7:30 pm in the Essex Room in Paul Robeson Campus Center.
Dr. Samatars
memorial tribute will
be held on June 15th
from 5:00-7:30 pm
in the Essex Room
in Paul Robeson
Campus Center.
SUMMER 2015 | 39
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According to Jesionkas introduction at the event, Norway donates 1-2% of its Gross Domestic Product (GDP) each year to
developing countries, and has an amazing pull when it comes
to Israel-Palestine issues. She also added that Norway is also a
country that has a very good social safety net.
Unlike Norwegian students who have free tuition, students
from Rutgers-Newark pointed out the difficulties of being a
working student. Norwegians without jobs also receive
government aid until they can land back on their feet.
Rutgers-Newark students were shocked by this Norwegian
government support.
You do not have a safety net to catch you if you fall like we
do, said Amina Hegvold Sanca, a Norwegian student who is
studying international relations at Gateway Dowling College.
I do not think I would dare to live here permanently if I was
not rich.
This stirred up a comparison between the American dream
and the Norwegian dream.
The Rutgers students described the American dream as being
successful which means having big money, a big house, a nice
car, and more than enough. The Norwegians said their dream
consists of having a family, a nice house, and doing what
makes you happy.
We have to understand
how different societies
run...how culture
influences us.
SUMMER 2015 | 41
The event was eye opening for Norwegian students. Sanca said
that she learned most Americans critique their government
and do not always follow them blindly.
I learned a lot, from how things work, what the average Joe
dreams about, to the ambitions of young Americans, she said.
I learned that it seems important for a lot of young Americans to do better than their parents, so that they can help them
when they get old. Thats a nice thing.
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SUMMER 2015 | 43
and beat the best, which we did, but you cant deny that all
the other teams in the conference were great. The switch to
division-III should still be very competitive but those guys
in division-I were the best.
DIVISION
By: Keane Macadaeg
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Im really disappointed
that we got demoted to
Division-III from Division-I,
the three year veteran said. But it does have some ups,
we are doing much better in this division than we have
these past two years. Were looking to do pretty good in the
next tournament and hopefully well bring back a trophy
though its still a disappointment that were in division-III.
Former teammate AndyMatthew Guinto offered some
positives on the switch. I spent my first two years at
Rutgers on the team and let me tell you - the competition
was the best. Of course, you would always like to play
III
DIVISION
SUMMER 2015 | 45
POWER HIJABI
By: Zeinab Said
Halima Mahmoud
46 | SCARLET MAGAZINE
At first, I did not choose to wear the hijab because I was only
2, so I had no choice. Because I started wearing the hijab at a
young age it became my identity. As I grew older, and began
facing my own struggles, I began to wear the hijab. My
hijab gives me confidence and strength but I am not just
the scarf I wear on my head, Im more than that. I think
sometimes as young women we hide or are forced behind the
hijab, but I dont think the hijab should be a hiding place for
us Muslimahs, instead it should be embraced as being part
of our lives. Hijab is a form of protection. I draw strength,
confidence, and a sense of power from my hijab. But hijab
doesnt just mean a scarf to cover my hair. To me, hijab is
modesty and decency that comes in the way I think, in the
things I say, and in the way I act. The hijab, for me, is a tool to
enhance the beauty of my mind and soul.
Modesty is a multi-layered package, and it takes time to get
to the deepest layer. Modesty is the way one is able to uphold
him/herself in the highest manner. Modesty is the ability
to act according with maximum etiquettes and morals. A
modest human being is one who is doing his very best to think
correctly so he can have a positive affect not, only on himself,
but on his community.
Im into bright colors and patterns. Loud colors like pink,
green, yellow, and red usually go well with my skin color. I
Nadalina Eldin
Egyptian-American
Freshman, double major in Neurobiology
and Psychology.
My goal is to become a doctor and one day, open a
hospital in Kenya.
I started wearing my hijab 3 years ago when I was sixteen.
To be completely honest, I fell in love with the hijab and
everything it stands for. I grew closer to my faith, as I did more
and more research on Islam. I eased my way into putting
the hijab on by wearing long baggy clothes to finally putting
it on. Actually funny story I told myself Id put it on for Eid
(a Muslim holiday) but my family decided that for the first
day of Eid wed go to Florida. So, of course everyone was
running around throwing bags into the car and screaming
did you grab sun screen? as I stood in front of the mirror in
the bathroom pricking my fingers with straight pins trying to
figure out how to actually put a hijab on.
To me, hijab means liberation, strength, modesty, and faith. It
stands for liberation because it allows you to be who you really
are without focusing on your physical image. It allows you
to wear your religion and represent Islam freely. It means
strength because it takes a lot of strength to wear hijab in a
world filled with lust and judgment. It takes strength to wake
up every morning and cover what society tells you makes you
beautiful. Of course every woman wants to feel beautiful and
to cover that beauty and allow only a select few to see it, is
something very powerful. Its a symbol of modesty because
obviously your being modest by covering 95% of your body
but modesty in the sense that you wear the hijab in order save
your beauty for the one you marry which is honestly harder
then it looks of course but in my opinion I think its one of the
most rewarding things a woman can do. Finally, it means faith
because you put the hijab on with total faith in God and faith
that you will be rewarded for your actions, faith that you are
doing what is best for you according to your religion and that
you are protecting your virtue.
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Habeebah Yasin
African American
Junior, Major in Public Administration/ Minor in
African American and African Studies
My career goal is to make a significant impact on the lives of
those in need, especially women in third world countries. The
reason why I majored in Public Administration is because
Im attracted to being a part of organizations that help give
resources to those who need it. I intend to work very closely
with Africa and the Middle East on implementing policies that
make a real impact, no matter how small.
I started wearing the hijab when I was in the 6th grade. I was
always encouraged to wear it, but I wore the hijab, as I got
older to establish the fact that I was a Muslim woman. Now I
am more vocal about being a Muslim woman, without having
the hijab speak for me. Hijab, to me, symbolizes modesty,
which means being humble and having humility.
Spring is here! So, I will be wearing lots of vibrant colors.
I love floral hijab patterns as well. My favorite hijab style is
simple but with a twist. I usually wear Pashminas and I try to
find new ways to wear my hijab. I often wear two scarfs that
may or may not be coordinating in color. The one on top is
usually to make my style pop more, as opposed to
just wearing one.
I try to be how I think the world should be, which is kind, full
of laughter, and compassionate. My ultimate wish in life is that
women are treated fairly and receive an adequate education,
so they can have the means to make their own life choices. Ive
started doing this by letting the women and girls around me
know how important it is to value ones education and that
education is one of the most powerful tools they can have.
SUMMER 2015 | 49
and I call it, the Princess style. I love it so much because its
perfect for me- its a royal look for a royal princess. Yes, hijabis
can be funny, too!
Rubab Zafar
Zainab Poonawalla
Indian
Junior, double major in Political Science
and Nursing/minor in Spanish
Pakistani
Junior, double major in
Chemistry and Mathematics
50 | SCARLET MAGAZINE
Modesty empowers
you to have meaningful
relationships with people.
VOICES OF
NEWARK
By: Ashley Okwuosa and Maxine Macias
52 | SCARLET MAGAZINE
SUMMER 2015 | 53
BRICK
CITY
RIOT
This duo consists of DJ Mavric and drummer, Carlos Ferreira,
who have played multiple shows at Hells Kitchen Lounge on
Lafayette St. The spontaneous paircross genres, playing hard
heavy music whether it be hip hop, rock, electro, or dubstep to
really bring out the live drumming element. Donning facemask
bandanas during their performances, which DJ Mavric
designed himself, and was inspired by Daft Punk, Brick City
Riot looks to bring something new to the table.
We educate
people to
something
different and
show them a
good time.
54 | SCARLET MAGAZINE
SUMMER 2015 | 55
EMMANUEL
MILTON
GORVIE JR.
Emmanuel Gorvie is a junior at Rutgers-Newark who began
singing in the choir during high school. He eventually gained
an interest in spoken word after his friends father, who was
a poet, had passed away and he wanted to create something
special to commemorate him. He recalls the time being
difficult and even leading to his friend becoming homeless.
My creative side
didnt really come
out until later in
my life.
56 | SCARLET MAGAZINE
SUMMER 2015 | 57
JEAN
RODRIGUEZ
58 | SCARLET MAGAZINE
SUMMER 2015 | 59
If I can capture
the essence
of that person
completely in my
work, then Ive
done a good job.
NONIE
OKOYE
The most important thing to do when telling a story is to capture
the essence of your subject as best as you can, this in particular is
something Nonie Okoye knows so well as an artist.
I like to draw realistically, I like to draw people realistically. I
like to draw peoples faces, because I feel like if I can capture the
essence of that person completely in my work, then Ive done a
good job.
The college senior is a self proclaimed creative connoisseur,
branding herself as a multi talented visual artists with experience
in painting, drawing and graphic design. Far from what most
would assume, the budding artist is not a graphic design or fine art
major, instead she is a biology major. So, amongst the self-portraits
and installations that frame her college dorm room lie hardbound
anatomy textbooks lab manuals
I was never encouraged to do art because I was told that you
couldnt make a living out of it, so I didnt start seriously pursuing
it until two years ago.
The tale of the artist that eschews following their passion in
a higher education institution for a more practical major is a
rhetoric students know so well. Although Okoye will be graduating
with a B.Sc. in biology this May. Shes looking to push through
and continue to do what she loves to do while finding out a way to
make it as lucrative as possible.
60 | SCARLET MAGAZINE
SUMMER 2015 | 61
FREDDY SLOBERT
A party without a DJ is almost equivalent to a college without students; the idea is
inconceivable and almost frightening to imagine. Thats where Fred Slobert comes into
the picture. Music has always been a part of the 21 year olds life, Liberian by heritage,
Slobert was spent his Sundays as a kid playing in the thundering band of the African
Community Pentecostal church in New York.
Ive always been into music since I was younger, I went to church in New York all
my life and I started playing the drums at maybe 10 or 11 and that got me hooked on
music. It was the one thing I could count on to take my mind off whatever was going
on around me.
From the stage of Sloberts church, he fell into being DJ almost by a stroke of fate,
during his time in high school.
I downloaded this DJ software on my laptop and I just played around with it, making
noise around the house and make my parents mad (laughs).
His adolescent curiosity turned into a hobby that he used to entertain friends during
his freshman year of college, and with a combination of a natural business acumen
and time spent in the business school as a Supply Chain major, DJ Frettifred was born.
A term of endearment once used by a friends late mother became the springboard
Slobert used to launch his ever-growing DJ career.
With a varied fan base and the inherent drive that pushed this move to begin with,
Slobert sees himself going far and wide as DJ Frettifred.
Music is the one language everyone understands, as of the past couple of years, Ive
been thinking of opening a club both here and in Liberia. Just a place that I can do me
and also put other DJs on and let them do their thing as well.
62 | SCARLET MAGAZINE
SUMMER 2015 | 63
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