Image by https://www.mehmetgeren.com/
Third culture is defined as the cultural common ground one forms for themselves when they have a bicultural upbringing, in other words, being raised by parents who are from two different cultures or countries and therefore forming your own culture as a result of being able to relate, or not, to both cultures. That’s the third culture, geographically, but what about religiously? Our beliefs form part of our identity whether you believe in a God or not, practice any sort of religion or not. I’m raised in a family where two religions are practiced, Islam and Christianity, and I’ve found myself forming my own third culture between both religions which impact my beliefs of society, myself, life, feminism and even relationships and who I feel I connect with more. Forming a third culture within religion may be complete blasphemy to some because religion is seen as something that is either or, no in between, but it’s the most crucial place for a third culture to exist, it is the most important place to allow for adaptability and relativity, your culture and your traditions are a part of home to take with you wherever you go in life. Expecting people to confine themselves to one way of life, one belief system and one set of traditions is asking too much. Human beings are not one dimensional so why should our beliefs be.
by Shauneez Rigney
Image by Snappy
The whole world, has their reservations about Millennial's. Maybe it’s our unique work ethic, our inclination to solve everything digitally, the pressing urge to document every aspect of our lives, or the vast lengths we’ll go to get that perfect Instagram post. Those are just characteristics that are perceived unconventional by previous generations who have not accepted or adapted to the new world and fail to understand that although it seems like we do not have a struggle, we are constantly fighting inner turmoil’s of social anxiety and grappling with the idea of gender and sexuality and the stereotypes that come with it. Our abstract issues are disregarded but, these struggles of ours just form the natural order of societal issues, past generations fought the tangible and now, the next step is the emotional social issues that have always loomed above us and matter just as much.
by Sahrish Hadia
Image by DGT Portraits c/o Pexels
It has been a poorly-kept secret that in the last few years, tensions in Britain have been high. Brexit may have been our ‘official’ indicator – but to those who did not ‘fit the mold’, we noticed the tears in the fabric of our society long ago. As a country, we have been fraying for some time. Changing immigration laws, vitriolic attacks on innocent pedestrians, the rise of far-right groups; Britain is becoming increasingly less ‘united’ as the years progress.
Conversely, it seems that as the world is getting bigger, our minds are becoming smaller.
by Atter Kalsi
Photo by rawpixel c/o Unsplash
"Why does the visible matter so much in this world? Why does everything seem to come down to what we see, to what is skin-deep, to what is on the surface? No matter what anti-racist science says, and it currently says we are all the same, from the same common ancestor ‘out of Africa’, young black people in Britain, those marked by physical, phenotypical, external, visible difference- those with dark skin, curly hair, almond eyes, full lips, proud noses- do not enjoy the same opportunities as young white people" (Mirza, 2009, p.44).
by Christopher Soriano
Photo by Devin Avery c/o unsplash
Santa Cruz is also one of the most expensive cities in the country. The city has been experiencing an influx of techies from Silicon Valley. It’s caused the housing prices to go up at a staggering rate, becoming twice as that of Watsonville. It’s pushed plenty of people out as employees from Silicon Valley start taking over, willing to commute through highway 17 just to enjoy their new conquered homes with the nice weather and the beach right next door.
Gentrification is not exclusive to Santa Cruz county. The effects are more evident in cities like San Francisco where businesses are propping up like rabbits, driving the smaller POC-owned businesses out of business. They are always the first to go.
by Iván Sandoval
Dia de los Muertos celebrations have appeared in movies like James Bond, Superman, The Book of Life, and Coco in varying degrees of accuracy to the holiday and its authenticity of Mexican culture. Although I love seeing the festivities dear to my culture on screen, there are a couple misconceptions about what Dia de los Muertos represents to Mexican people.
by Amiah Taylor
Photo by Olu Eletu c/o nappy.co
I was talking to my father the other day about the commonalities between race talk and gender talk. What's said and explicitly represented in private conversations often falls short in real life—a marked attitude-behavior gap. This gap refers to the idea of personal attitudes not matching public behavior. This cognitive dissonance is more common than you might think. Often it comes from a lack of personal discomfort despite understanding, on an intellectual level, that an issue is wrong. It is difficult to understand the daily obstacles of a queer LGBT individual if you are heterosexual, just as it is difficult to internalize the struggles of a Black man if you’re not Black and so on and so forth.
by Saint Rote
Photo by Debbie Hudson c/o unsplash
A warning drum crescendoed with every tap of your fingertips, preparing me for a battle I’ve already fought too many times before. Because you mistook my pigtails and baby teeth as a sign of child but failed to realize that I was a veteran of the war that ran rampant through my mind, a mental martyr to myself.
By Paolo Biccheri
I had no idea how scary this Fall would be, but then Brett Kavanaugh appeared.
By Simamkele Mchako
Photo by Rasaan B. c/o nappy.co
“Your father is dead;” my mother told me, with a false casual tone that she uses when trying to avoid an intense and possibly emotional conversation with me. She gave me this only moments before she went to work. She was working the night shift, and as she said goodbye I could see the worry in her eyes. The thought of leaving me alone after such news was a burden that was weighing heavily on her. The year was 2015; I was 18 years old and in Matric. I had only met my father once in my life, in 2004. We never had a relationship that went passed a couple of occasional phone calls. My father’s absence used to bother me a great deal, yet by the time I was 16 I accepted it. I spent a large portion of my adolescents resenting and loathing the man I was told was my father, and the other portion wishing that he could be a prominent figure in my everyday life. I was stuck between trying to convince myself I did not need him, and asking myself if I was to blame for his absence.
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