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Archive for: March 2017
A Mother and Her Son: Surviving the Withdrawal
Written by Michaella Marshall, Audio edited by Alessandra Rey
For 20-year-old Tonya Lucas, March 31, 2014, was set to be the most exciting day of her life. The day she welcomed her son Dashal into the world.
After hearing that a local woman suffering from a methadone addiction did not want to keep her unborn baby, Lucas and her husband made the decision to adopt the child.
What she did not know, was that Dashal’s biological mother was addicted to heroin.
“We were told that his biological mother was on methadone, which was a lie, and not heroin.” Lucas said.
Lucas said that although she was prepared for her son to face opioid withdrawals, she was not prepared for weeks spent in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, watching her son rid himself of the toxic heroin that was poisoning his body.
Infant opioid-addiction, known as neonatal abstinence syndrome affects babies by causing severe body tremors, diaper rashes due to unstoppable diarrhea, and frequent high-pitched screaming. High muscle tone is prevalent due to constant tensing from exposure to the drug. Lucas saw similar symptoms in her son.
“We pretty much just googled things,” said Lucas, “spoke with the CYFD about other children who have been through withdrawals before. but most of our knowledge came from the amazing NICU nurses.”
Nurses used morphine to help reduce the pain, but once again became an addiction. Sugar water was used to try to soothe him, but to little avail.
Two months passed, Dashal stayed in Lovelace Women’s Hospital in Albuquerque New Mexico. He made little improvement.
With Lucas and her husband working opposite schedules, and spending weekends in the hospital, there seemed to be little hope for the family.
Amid gaps in her schedule, Lucas would come to the hospital to see women holding her sleeping baby. Close to their chest and swaddled tightly, as it was the only way Dashal could sleep.
She credits these cuddlers in helping Dashal to heal faster.
“I feel those women needed the babies as much as the babies needed them,” Lucas said.
The cuddlers provided love that the busy nurses could not.
Cuddling programs are beginning to pop up around the United States due to recent research suggesting close contact can help improve these infants health. Volunteers in hospitals across the nation are spending time with babies who are battling opioid-dependency.
Mary Anthony, from San Antonio, has been a volunteer with opioid-dependent infants for over a year at Methodist Children’s Hospital. She has put in over 200 hours of volunteer work.
“These babies are handed a rough start to life, but with good care and lots of loving cuddles they can overcome,” Anthony said.
She said that working with these infants is very different than working with typically developing babies as they are often sensitive to light, noise and other sensory stimulants.
One-third of all drug dependent babies born in Texas are from San Antonio. In Bexar County alone, 400 babies were born suffering from neonatal abstinence syndrome last year, according to the Texas department of State Health Services.
Two months later, after pain, roadblocks, and further treatments, Dashal was released from hospital and finally made it home.
Dashal is now thriving, but his life will continue to be different than other children’s.
Lucas said that he has hit every milestone that a normal child does and has even excelled in some such as walking, due to his high muscle tone.
“He can count to twenty, knows all of his colors, and his ABC’s,” Lucas said.
Due to his previous condition, Dashal has hyperactivity, aggressive issues, and communication issues, but early intervention is helping to keep him on the right track.
On Wednesday, March 8, 2017, Dashal will be interviewing to start preschool, a huge step for a child who was dealt the worse hand.
Lucas and Dashal said they are extremely excited for the future, and want to inspire others affected by neonatal abstinence syndrome to have hope.
“You are enough,” Lucas said. “The stress and frustration can get overwhelming, but know that it is not your child giving you problems, it’s that he has problems of his own.”
Opioid-Dependent Infants Statistics
Graphics and text by Bella Tommey
In Texas, the average cost of a hospital birth for a typical developing newborn is $3,469 according to the state health department. The average cost for a baby suffering from neonatal abstinence syndromeis $31,321 per birth.
Infant opioid-addiction, known as neonatal abstinence syndrome affects babies by causing severe body tremors, diaper rashes, diarrhea, feeding difficulties, sleeping problems, seizures, and frequent high-pitched screaming to name a few. Behavior issues and sensory issues often follow into adolescence.
One-third of all drug dependent babies born in Texas are from San Antonio. In Bexar County alone, 400 babies were born suffering from neonatal abstinence syndrome last year, according to the Texas department of State Health Services.
Dr. Wendy Penner
Audio and text by Alessandra Rey
Dr. Wendy Penner is the director of prevention and wellness at the Northern Berkshire Community Coalition in North Adams, Massachusetts. She received her PhD in Psychology at the University of Michigan and has since opened up her own consulting firm. She is actively engaged now on both the treatment and policy side of opioids and opioid addiction as well as focuses on promoting behavioral health and development to those who seek her counsel.
Phoenix House- Austin, Texas
Photos and text by Michaella Marshall, video by Sydney Rubin
Phoenix House is a recovery center that focuses on teens recovering from addiction. Phoenix House has locations in Austin, Round Rock, Houston, and Dallas. Although opioid addiction is a more predominant issues in the New England states, there is a country wide increase of opioid usage. Phoenix House, Austin has had it’s own share of children who were born addicted to opioid and now are facing new addictions, and with teens who are addicted and are now pregnant. Phoenix House is a recovery center that focuses on teens recovering from addiction. Phoenix House has locations in Austin, Round Rock, Houston, and Dallas. Although opioid addiction is a more predominant issues in the New England states, there is a country wide increase of opioid usage. Phoenix House, Austin has had it’s own share of children who were born addicted to opioid and now are facing new addictions, and with teens who are addicted and are now pregnant.
By Sarah Jasmine Montgomery, Vedant Peris, Kris Seavers and Sunny Sone
See the full package here: https://texasnonosvamos.squarespace.com/chulita-vinyl-club/
The vibrant sounds of cumbia, salsa and other Latin rhythms pulsated the walls of the Carousel Lounge in East Austin one cool Friday evening in February. Inside, a life-size ceramic elephant served as the backdrop to the DJ table, where various women took turns pulling records from their sleeves and laying down hip-swaying beats. At the carnival-themed bar, patrons sipped Lone Stars and nodded their heads until a particular song moved them to the dance floor. The festive mood was typical of this particular DJ collective’s gigs, but it was a rare night when most of the members of the Austin chapter were together, taking turns as older members helped out new ones.
Austin native Claudia Saenz founded the Chulita Vinyl Club in 2014 when she noticed a lack of spaces for women — especially women of color — in the DJ industry. In just three years, the group blossomed into a thriving organization with about 50 chulitas — the word is a term of endearment in Spanish and means “cutie” or “sweetie” — and seven chapters across Texas and California. The “all girl all vinyl” collective teaches new members the technical skills needed to work a turntable while encouraging a judgement-free space for women whose identities are often marginalized in the music industry. Xochi Solis is a DJ and the Austin chapter’s “lead Chulita.”
“[DJing] isn’t hard, but it can be daunting when you’re trying to learn, and it’s a male-dominated arena,” Solis said. “So we create a safe space for learning technology, but also a safe space for conversations about identity politics, social justice issues.”
Saenz has since moved to California and started four other Chulita Vinyl Club chapters there. Solis, a local visual artist, has taken on a leadership role here in Austin, where she’s fondly referred to as “mom” by the 20 or so DJs she helps manage. She says the group grows every other month or so.
“When we play gigs, women come up and want to know more about industry, or are excited because we played a song that reminded them of something their grandmother or grandfather played in kitchen,” Solis said.
Solis began collecting her own records 20 years ago. As a small girl, she listened to the vinyl collections of her father, who was a DJ at Baylor University’s student station in the 1960s and ‘70s. Her personal collection ranges from the sounds of the Queen of Tejano music Selena Quintanilla to the more experimental music of Yoko Ono and Laurie Anderson. But as a third-generation Austinite and self-identified Tejana, it’s the native sounds of Mexican-Americans in Texas that Solis loves to play the most.
“It tells a story beyond what the song or the corrido or whatever the tune might be,” Solis said. “There’s a story of, ‘Hey this is on Teardrop Records’ or, ‘This is on Joey Records based out of San Antonio,’” Solis said. “It’s really about this endeavor of enterprise that people wanted to share this music and share these stories.”
Every DJ in the group has her own repertoire, from salsa to hip-hop to ‘80s pop. Ana Cecilia Calle, who goes by “La PhDj” when she’s behind the turntables, plays a lot of cumbia — a dance genre popular across Latin America — from the ‘50s and ‘60s. When she moved to Austin from Colombia to pursue a doctoral degree at the University of Texas at Austin, she didn’t feel quite at home. But she thought bringing her record collection would be the best way to settle in. For her, the draw to vinyl is in the materiality of the format.
“Being able to carry something and saying this is actual sound, and all I have to do is put a needle and make it spin,” Calle said. “So when it spins, the whole history of that object spins as well. Like the travels it had to make, the scratches it has. It is a single thing happening — and it only happens once — that’s the history of that object playing in that very moment.”
Camila “Cienfuegos” Torres-Castro is one of the newest DJs in the collective. She joined after moving from a small town in Mexico to Austin, also to pursue a doctoral degree. Like many of the DJs, she found the group on Facebook, and she was drawn in by the appeal of learning how to spin. But she also found a friend group — a multicultural group with “political edge.”
“I don’t mean to brag or anything, but I think what we do is a really way of resisting right now because we’re all women of color, and we’re making space in a scene that’s predominantly male,” Torres-Castro said. “It’s not just spinning because of spinning, we are actually doing it with a conscience of our position as women in color in this day and age with Trump as president in Texas.”
As the chulitas spin at the Carousel Lounge — which has asked the collective to perform a monthly show — and other shows across the city, including at South By Southwest, it’s clear the chulitas have created a much-needed niche here. In Austin, women make up 20 percent of musicians in the city, and 10.4 percent of musicians identify as Hispanic, according to last year’s Austin Music Census. Solis said “a space of exploration” like the Chulita Vinyl Club empowers the women individually and makes them stronger together.
“Things are changing really fast in our communities, and I think the call for Chulita Vinyl Club to come together was in reaction to that change,” Solis said. “We were seeing our own communities of other people of color diminishing and going, ‘Where are the people that I can relate to culturally?’”
View full story with photos here.
Story by Amanda Pinney
Photos by Bryan Rolli
Homegrown and locally sourced food products line the narrow shelves of a tiny grocery store located in east Austin, Texas. Wooden picnic tables deck the front patio, where locals sip on beer and munch on sandwiches ordered from the counter inside. Just a few feet away lies the garden where the produce grows, a reminder to customers that the crunchy kale on their sandwich came directly from the earth beneath their feet.
In.gredients aims to be more than just a corner store. With a stage for live music and a playground for children, the store hopes to be a staple for residents seeking local food products as well as a spot to hangout in the neighborhood. Although the store joined the neighborhood in 2012, its existence grew threatened by rising property taxes in Austin until it was saved by a successful crowdfunding campaign in early March.
The grocery store embodies the concept of zero-waste – the idea of keeping discarded materials out of Austin’s landfills.
“We have less waste on average as a store than a residential property would per week,” said Ben Hasan, the In.gredients prep food lead. “Not only is that way better than a household, that’s far knocking it out of the park when comparing it to somebody like HEB or Whole Foods.”
The city’s movement toward zero-waste came with the adoption of the Austin Resource Recovery Master Plan in 2011. The plan outlines milestones for the goal of the city becoming zero-waste by 2040, which means at least 90 percent of waste materials will be kept out of landfills.
In.gredients initially started out as a package-free establishment when it opened its doors in 2012. The challenges of functioning as such outweighed the benefits, and over the years the store moved in the zero-waste direction instead.
The transition has been successful, and the store diverts approximately 99 percent of its materials from the landfill.
“We tackle that by having upcycling with some of our vendors,” said Hasan, referring to the process in which vendors bring the store’s items in reusable packages and then take away the empty containers once the store has been restocked. When Hasan prepares food in-house, any leftover scraps are given to composting services or other organizations that will reuse them.
The efforts of remaining a zero-waste business present low conflict in terms of the grocery store’s operation. The rising cost of living in Austin, however, has In.gredients facing double the property taxes and a spike in rent.
To combat the increasing operation costs, the store launched an Indiegogo crowdfunding campaign to invoke community help in raising extra cash through slow times in the year.
“When it’s pretty slow it gets pretty hard and costs to operate keep rising,” Hasan said. “The Indiegogo is an effort to raise some money to get some major equipment and renovations done to this space.”
The renovations will focus on the outdoor space, including expansion of the playground. The store also hopes to offer expanded tap and coffee services to customers who often dine on the patio. In.gredients sees its fair share of regulars and the plans to renovate reflect things people ask about.
An In.gredients customer from the beginning, local resident Katie Stellar was originally attracted to the package-free initiative of the store, but now views the space as a connector of the community.
“The interaction of music and earth and family and waste reduction is my favorite thing about this place,” Stellar said.
A touring musician, Stellar’s band recently played a show on the patio’s stage. To Stellar, In.gredients has become a neighborhood fixture and a staple in the midst of the gentrification happening in East Austin.
“I feel like there are a lot of ways to be when you move into a neighborhood where low income people are being forced out and a new population is coming in,” Stellar said.
As the city’s population continues to grow, Stellar sees the gentrification east Manor Road has undergone.
“I think In.gredients has been a very positive force in terms of what it stands for,” Stellar said. “It meets several different layers of community needs all in one space.”
The surrounding businesses also see In.gredients as a unique part of the East Austin neighborhood. The reassurance from these local vendors plays a part in the reason the grocery store felt confident in its decision to launch the Indiegogo.
“One of the reasons we knew we wanted to, and that we could even with a property and rent hike, was that we’ve seen such an outpouring from the community,” Hasan said.
The store was rightfully confident– on March 6, the stores Indiegogo surpassed its goal, raising $30,241 for the renovations with the help of 80 donations. Some contributors gave as much as $250.
Nearby vendors and businesses helped by encouraging their own customers to support In.gredients and offering free tickets or coupons if they showed a store receipt. They provided a unique way to contribute to the campaign and initiate a sense of community among small local businesses.
“We’re all in it together,” Hasan said. “The focus on a local food economy, a zero-waste cycle and local businesses, whether it’s our food or our producers—I think it fits pretty well into the Austin city.”
Story by Selah Maya Zighelboim
Photos by Yelitza Mandujano and Selah Maya Zighelboim
Amber Bemak and Nadia Granados, two artists from the United States and Columbia, explored political and personal themes in a performance called “American Spectral History” during the third annual Outsider Fest. Using video and performance art, they presented images of aggression from North America against Latin America, violence against women and queer people and lesbian lovers.
“One thing that people said a lot to us after the show is that it made them feel turned on and disgusted at themselves for being turned on but also at what we were showing,” Bemak said. “I think that’s a good descriptor of our work, and we want people to have that visceral experience at the same time because so much of what we talk about politically has to do with sexuality and gender and sex.”
Amber Bemak performing “American Spectral History”.
Like many other performances at Outsider Fest, “American Spectral History” touches on topics of queerness and intersectionality. Outsider Fest, an LGBT art festival that ran from Thursday, Feb. 16 to Sunday, Feb. 19, featured spoken word, concerts, films and theatrical performances. According to Curran Nault, the festival’s founder and organizer, the goal of Outsider Fest is to facilitate conversations between different groups of people — between artists and academics, different kinds of artists and different races, ethnicities and classes.
“What’s kind of important to me is the name ‘Outsider’ itself,” Nault said. “It’s meant to evoke, obviously, sexuality, as being out, being queer, but also all of the different ways that people can feel marginalized, outside of the norm, outside of power.”
Use this interactive map to explore the different venues used during (Out)sider
Map and captions by Julie Gomez
This year’s theme was ‘Into the Wild,’ which Nault said is meant to express the idea of reconnecting with nature to solidify community and re-emerge, ready to fight. According to Nault, one show that touched on this theme was “Promised Land” by Rudy Ramirez. In the show, Ramirez goes on a personal journey to find self-acceptance, at one point traveling and camping in the woods.
Ramirez said he created his show, “Promised Land,” with a specific kind of audience member in mind, a young queer Latino who needed confirmation that his feelings and experiences were legitimate. Ramirez wanted “Promised Land” to be the validation he needed when he was younger.
“I was queer in my head before, but when I saw this world, I was queer in my heart after that,” he said. “It was a feeling that this world is possible, we can get there. It’s not something that’s just imaginary. It can be real, and it makes it so much more worth fighting for.”
Lilia Rosas (left), Irene Lara Silva (center left), Paige Schilt (center right), and Trystan Cotton (right) during “Conference on the Couch”.
Besides art shows like “American Spectral History” and “Promised Land,” Outsider Fest also included panels. Most days of the festival began with a Conference on the Couch, where attendees could gather in Nault’s living room with a panel of academics, who sat on couches and chairs with attendees to discuss their work. These panels covered art activism, transgenderism and queer publishing.
For Nault, who is radio-television-film lecturer at the University of Texas at Austin, taking academia from its “ivory tower” and bringing it to the community is an important aspect of the festival.
“The fact that we’re literally welcoming you into our living room sets a tone for what the festival is really about, that is that there’s no separation,” Nault said. “There’s no separation between the people making the festival and attending the festival. We’re all together in this family setting.”
According to Nault, art’s emotional resonance makes it unique as a tool for community-building and activism. This resonance allows it to stay with its audience in a way that something like a pamphlet, which only hits on an intellectual level, cannot.
“Art creates new worlds,” he said. “There’s something that points to a utopian impulse or an imaginary impulse. It creates new visions beyond our current state. It creates a yearning for something different.”
Video by Elise Cardenas, Selah Maya Zighelboim, and Yelitza Mandujano
Story by Ceci Gonzales
Images and Infographic by Jane Morgan Scott
Video by Meredith Knight
Remain silent, never lie and ask for a lawyer. Austin attorney Krystal Gómez adamantly insists undocumented immigrants comply with these rules.
The University of Texas at Austin alumna provided a workshop, Know Your Rights, in light of the Immigrations and Customs Enforcement (ICE) raids on undocumented immigrants in Austin. Many who were detained did not know the guidelines for detainment and deportation. The Center for Mexican-American Studies and the Mexican-American Latino Studies departments hosted the workshop to change that. They emphasized regardless of whether or not someone is undocumented, each individual does have rights.
“The more people who think they don’t have rights, the more likely we see government intrusion,” Gómez said. “And the more widespread that becomes, the more habit it is for law enforcement officers.”
Knowing your rights affects the actions of government officials, according to Gómez.
“If nobody objects when somebody searches your car without a search warrant or without your consent, then the cops feel like they can keep doing it,” Gómez said.
Undocumented immigrants can utilize the fifth amendment when stopped by law enforcement.
“I think it’s really important for folks to know how to say ‘Sorry no, that’s not okay’ and push back a little bit,” Gómez said.
Other tips included to not resist, lie or show false documents. Obtaining false documents is considered a fraud against the U.S. government. Also, a person may refuse to open the door to a federal agent if authorities do not have a warrant signed by a judge.
MALS professors CJ Alvarez and Karma Chávez created the event to support those who feel threatened by President Trump’s new immigration policies.
“This feels a bit more extreme in the kind of way the Trump administration is going about this,” Chávez said. “Picking up somebody at school, picking up somebody outside of church, five people here, ten people there. It’s real low intensity in a certain sense so it kind of makes you feel like you’re always under threat.”
As a result, Trump’s administration caused an increase in pressure and worry for undocumented students, according to Chávez.
UT League of United Latin American Citizens (LULAC) president Alejandra Zendejas said she feels this pressure.
“Being a DACA (Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals) student kind of puts you in an awkward position because you’re not undocumented technically, you have your documents from DACA, but you’re also not a citizen,” Zendejas said.
Knowing her rights became a top priority for Zendejas when Trump took office.
“I started seeing ICE deportations,” Zendejas said. “Now that I know that this is very real and this can happen to me.”
Her biggest fear concerns is her parents being targeted by ICE back home in Dallas.
“When I hear about checkpoints or raids I call my parents. I’m like ‘Hey don’t go here in Dallas, make sure you’re safe, stay home,’” Zendejas said. “That’s my biggest fear, just finding out that they got deported or detained.”
MALS’ next workshop will take place on Tuesday, March 28. ‘Policing in America’ will draw attention to the logistics of policing and how they impact communities.
Written story by Ceci Gonzales
Video by Meredith Knight
Photos by Noelle Darilek
Audio by Armando Maese
Text by Courtney Runn
“These events are like coming home,” says Alexandra LittleJohn, as she tinkers with a glass container. “It’s a family reunion of sorts.”
Her table resembles a high school chemistry lab with a hot plate and glass beaker-like containers. Two beakers are stacked on top of each other, each feeding into the other, like an hourglass. She’s about to begin another presentation.
“The heat has to go somewhere so it’s going to go up,” she explains. “Once all of the water is in the top chamber, I’m going to add the coffee to it.”
The handful of people watching lean in to see the coffee travel between the upper and lower glass chambers. The technique relies on vapor pressure and vacuum to brew the coffee.
She passes out small paper cups so everyone can try it. The rich, bitter scent of coffee rushes the senses. The crowd fades and moves on to other tables, drawn to where there is applause.
LittleJohn has been in the coffee community for the past 17 years and currently works as the director of wholesale for Equator Coffees and Teas in California and serves on the executive council of the Barista Guild of America. She is one of many who traveled to Austin for the CoffeeChamp on February 11 and 12, one of two opportunities to qualify for the national coffee competition in Seattle in April.
The coffee community has been coming together to battle it out over espresso and cappuccinos since 2002, when the first North American Barista Championship was organized. The Specialty Coffee Association of America (SCAA) sponsors the event and offers four competition categories: Barista Championship, Brewers Cup Championship, Roast Championship, and Cup Tasters Championship.
Competitors pay a fee of $195 if they belong to SCAA ($350 for non-members), a price that they have to pay out of pocket unless a coffee shop sponsors them.
The rules and regulations are complex. The championships are as much a science as they are an art. Baristas not only make a cup of coffee but simultaneously put on a show, spinning together personal stories, the history of coffee, geographical information on the beans they’re using, and an explanation of their brewing methods.
Mallory Leicht, a coffee trainer for Blue Bottle Coffee, never competed but has judged the competitions for six years and specializes in the Barista Competition. She judged at the Austin qualifying champ and will judge in Seattle as well. Just like the competitors, judges have to qualify for each higher level of judging.
For the Barista Competition category, there are three types of judges: sensory, technical, and head. Sensory judges evaluate drinks based on tangible factors, including if the taste measures up to how the barista described it. They’re also watching for communication skills and professionalism. Technical judges watch the barista’s efficiency and behind-the-bar skills. The head judge observes all aspects of competition and holds the other judges accountable to accuracy and consistency.
“[Competition] helped me as a barista really develop sensory and technical skills. When you’re a tech judge, you become very mindful about the way you use the cafe space,” said Leicht. “There’s just so much opportunity to learn from others what they’re doing, why they’re doing it, what they’re excited about, what kind of equipment they have. It’s kind of like an ongoing conference or ongoing trade show.”
For Lorenzo Perkins, co-owner of Austin coffeeshop Fleet, he owes competition his career. Before he opened Fleet in 2016, he worked at Cafe Medici where he was attracted to their competition-winning baristas. He competed himself for the first time in 2009 and has advanced to nationals five times. This year, at the Austin CoffeeChamp, he placed sixth in the Barista Championship and will be moving on to nationals.
For his signature drink, he made espresso with Demerara simple sugar syrup. He stirred the drink with cascara ice cubes and strained it into coup spritzed with orange blossom water. He topped it all off with shaken cinnamon cream. To connect with the judges, he told a story about his mom, remembering the coffee she made him that consisted of more cream than coffee.
While competition has provided Perkins with significant training and practice, he said he knows at the end of the day it’s just a game and does not necessarily reflect skill. In competition, he said, you’re interacting with “the four best guests you will ever have,” so while it’s an outlet for creativity, success in competition does not always directly correlate with success in real life.
The real test of a barista happens everyday, far away from the scribbling of judges and limits of a clock. And the real judges can be much harsher, rushing in and out, hardly tasting or appreciating the coffee keeping them caffeinated.
Perkins said there’s no “great secret or mystery to making a cup of coffee,” but constant pursuit of what’s next, attention to detail, and basic hospitality can separate the good from the great.
Paul Henry, who oversees all of the Austin Houndstooth locations, appreciates the potential in competition but thinks sending his staff overseas to learn about coffee can be a better financial investment than sponsoring them to compete.
When hiring baristas, Henry looks for intelligence, professionalism, and hospitality. He’s willing to hire someone brand new and often sees his baristas move on to other career paths, but rarely to other coffee shops in Austin.
“Texas baristas are great…because there’s this kind of natural hospitality to Texas,” said Henry. “The MO of baristas is they’re difficult, they’re uptight, they’re pretentious and I haven’t found that to be the case almost all the time in Austin.”
As coffee has grown in popularity, it has found a thriving home in Austin. Perkins describes the growth of coffee culture as happening in three waves. The birth of brands like Folgers marks the first wave, an appeal to the masses. The advent of Starbucks introduced the US to a second wave of coffee. This wave ushered in a European cafe culture and focused on specific flavors. It introduced espresso culture to the average American. The third wave pushed even further, focusing on the precision, preparation, and craft of coffee. This wave does not just highlight certain bean-producing countries but looks to the single farmer lots. Many of Austin’s coffee shops could be categorized in this third wave of coffee.
“Austin is a city full of people who desire to be fascinated,” said Perkins. “They might not know as much about a particular topic as someone else but they’re in to the fact that you’re in to it…From tech to food to dogs to whatever it is, if you’re in to it, other people are into you being into it.”
Coffee is the popular drink right now, but trends will change. Henry isn’t worried, though. While he thinks Austin is headed for a pattern of cafe closures, “the cream rises to the top” and he’s confident that the businesses built on excellence and hospitality will outlast any trendiness surrounding the coffee community.
Leicht can still remember where she was standing when she tasted her first cup of good coffee. Ryan Wilbur, a past competitor and current judge, found third wave coffee early and clung to it, dropping out of college to pursue that taste.
“I often tell people the biggest difference between Starbucks and your local small batch roaster is….like a national chain based restaurant and a celebrity local chef,” said Wilbur. “It’s pretty wonderful you can go to Morton’s The Steakhouse or Ruth’s Chris in most major cities in the US. You’re going to get a very curated and well cared for experience but you’re not going to get a taste of what that city is all about.”
The community of coffee goes deeper than using fancy brewing methods and fading trends. It truly is a family for many of these baristas and judges and coffee enthusiasts. One common factor in all of their desires to make coffee a career was tasting excellent coffee. Once they got a taste of that coffee, that community, that potential to pursue excellence in a cup, they couldn’t go back.
Words and Photos by: Itzel Garcia
Video and audio by: Katie Keenan and James Grachos
AUSTIN—On Saturday mornings, Zilker park’s soccer field becomes a faint memory of Eritrea, a small country located in the so-called Horn of Africa peninsula, according to Britannica.
The soccer field fills with the fluid movements of soccer players, with their sweaty faces and their loud, emotional shouting in a language strange to Austin. The players run, they kick, they dance with a soccer ball scribbled with memories attached to their feet and sometimes, they even fight for who gets to do the free kicks.
But when noon comes around, from the soccer field they go back to sit down, back to the road and their jobs as taxi drivers in a city they now call home.
“We sit in a car 15 hours a day, we need exercise,” Teklehaimanot, or Tekle, said. “So me and a couple of friends decided to start a soccer team.”
However, the newly-formed Eritrean team is not only an outlet for exercise, it is also a need for community.
“We all met on (an) immigrant shelter, some of us came here like four years ago, I came three years ago, other friends six months ago,” Tekle said. “So we tried to make a community.”
Another player, Oumer, agreed.
“It unites us,” Oumer said. “It gets our hearts beating.”
Community building for Tekle, Oumer, and their friends starts at 8 a.m, as the red-hot sun sets on the open field. The parking lot nearby quickly becomes busy with bright, neon-green taxi cabs. Then, the team members take to the field. They begin to chatter amongst themselves, then stretch in flowing motions. They huddle around a bench near the field drinking water and joking. Finally, they set up the goal posts to begin playing.
For the Eritrean soccer players, the sport is a process they all had in common before arriving to Austin.
“I grew up watching soccer, like La Liga, Syrian and European soccer. In our country, soccer is a big deal,” Tekle said. “My favorite player is Cristiano Ronaldo. I love my mom, he loves his mom, he didn’t want to leave her. I love him.”
Tekle remembers playing soccer in high school, fondly, even when the country was ruled by a young, constricting dictatorship.
“Eritrea is beautiful, there’s no violence, no one carries arms, it’s a very peaceful country, but the dictatorship is the problem,” Tekle said.
In 2015, a U.N. report found that Eritreans are “subject to systems of national service and forced labour that effectively abuse, exploit and enslave them for indefinite periods of time.”
Oumer said Eritrea is comparable to North Korea, given the restrictive dictatorship that has been in power since 1991, when the country gained independence from Ethiopia.
“Even though North Korea has electricity, has water, our country doesn’t even have that, it’s a very tough life,” Oumer said.
As of 2015, only 58 percent of the Eritrean population has access to water, according to the World Bank.
According to the U.N. an estimate of 400,000 Eritreans—9% of the country’s population—out of a total population of four million, have fled in recent years, not taking into account those who die en route while escaping the situation.
“My entire generation fled the country, illegally,” Tekle said.
But despite escaping the country and not having plans to return, Tekle sees his home country reflected in Austin.
“Austin is amazing, I feel like I am home,” Tekle said. “The weather is similar.”
Some Saturdays, even other parts of Africa come a little bit closer. The last rivalry game they had was against an Ethiopian team. Tekle’s and Oumer’s team lost 3-2, but that only motivated the team for the future.
“They were better, more organized, they’ve been here longer, but we will get better, we will train more.” Tekle said. “Soccer is in our blood, my friend.”
David Schumaker woke up every morning on the cold streets of Austin, but one day this would all change.
Schumaker was walking past the Trinity Center downtown, and a woman volunteer at a local art studio stopped him and asked him to tell his story. Schumaker explained how he had been living on the city streets for more than 5 years due to the loss of his parents, alcoholism and drugs.
The volunteer immediately invited him into the art studio and told him to take that grief and anger and paint a picture.
“At the time I had a broken heart and a lost soul, but the program was therapeutic for me,” David Schumaker said.
For over 25 years, Art From the Streets has given the homeless community a chance to start over by providing them with a studio at the Trinity Center, art supplies, and volunteers to help sell art in hope to create a new beginning.
The non-profit organization is run on donations and holds pop-up art shows around downtown Austin. The art shows provide an opportunity for income for the contributors, 80 percent of the earnings of the art go to the artist. Their slogan, “Give Art a Home”, fully embodies the message that AFTS provides an encouraging space for artistic expression for those who need it most
The artists are able to attend 3 free studio sessions each week while creating one-of-a-kind pieces all year long to prepare for the annual “Art From the Streets Exhibition Show”.
Last year’s 24th Annual Show and Sale at the Austin Convention Center brought over 1,200 people who purchased over $90,000 of art in the 10 hours they were open.
The show changed one artist’s’ life entirely. “I own a duplex on South Lamar now. I made enough money at the show last year to pay 2 years of rent,” Jerry Hurta said, “I have a lot of returning customers and people that have gotten to know me, I have a fan club at the art show each year now.”
The program does not only bring money and stability to the artists. It provides them with creativity and determination to belong to something in this world.
“At the time I had a broken heart and a lost soul, but the program was therapeutic for me.”
Cathy Carr lost everything she knew in a house fire and immediately was forced to live off of the streets. After hearing about Art From the Streets from a couple friends, she immediately fell in love with the program.
Carr’s painting subjects are usually animals because she feels they are independent and courageous. She hopes to open either an art or a music studio of her own one day to inspire others.
The artists create personal relationships with each other and the volunteers during the studio sessions and the annual exhibition show. Individuals that were once invisible are now seen as a local celebrity. Art From the Streets motivates their artists to be rewarded for their hard work and dedication all year.
The volunteers at the studio range in age from 20 to 70. Most of the volunteers have a passion for art and become truly inspired by the products the homeless or at-risk artists create.
The volunteers often have jobs in the St. David’s episcopal church which allow them to be on site and available for all of the art sessions. They like the consistent schedule and central location because it allows them to build strong bonds with the artists and serve as not only a volunteer, but as a friend.
Schumaker explains that a change in perspective can sometimes be all a person requires to get out there and help somebody in need.
At this year’s art exhibition David Schumaker is expected to have over 200 paintings on display. Schumaker now pays for his own apartment from his earnings for his art and never looks back at the life he once lived.
The Trinity Center is located downtown at 304 East 7th Street. Open studio times are Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday from 1:30 pm to 3:30 pm.
Words by Grant Gordon
Video by Karla Benitez
Graphics by Ashika Sethi
David Sternberg is a 21-year-old journalism major at the University of Texas at Austin who uses social media to realize his passion and influence society around him.
Sternberg has been interested in makeup since his senior year of high school, when he wanted his lips to be as pink as those of an actor in a movie he watched. When he didn’t have the courage to buy the lipstick himself, his friend stole it for him.
“When I wear makeup out and about I feel very powerful and strong,” Sternberg said. “I can influence other people. Whether you mean to or not, you still do, and that’s exciting.”
Sternberg created an Instagram profile in late 2015 to showcase his dazzling makeup designs to the world. He called his profile “Ultraviolent makeup,” based off the term coined in Clockwork Orange, which means violence simply for violence’s sake. Sternberg said he identified with the saying from an art perspective.
“I’ve always liked that (term) for art, saying … you just do art for the sake of art,” Sternberg said. “You don’t really have a message behind it; you’re just creating because you have to. I’ve always felt that way about myself; it’s just that I’ve never been good at any creative mediums.”
While Sternberg said he was unsuccessful in his previous attempts at music and painting, he finally found a way to express himself through makeup. His Instagram page has almost 100 thousand followers.
“I think getting some validation from social media that I might not be terrible at makeup is why I’ve stuck with this,” Sternberg said. “I’ve always wanted to do art – it’s just now this is the art that I’m doing.”
After one year, Sternberg’s Instagram page had only 8,000 followers, but started gaining more as he posted higher quality content. He said he switched from recording his videos with an iPhone to a DSLR camera and started being more creative.
His big payoff came during a “31 days of makeup” campaign he participated in last October, where he posted a new Halloween themed makeup design every day of the month. He gained 50,000 followers that month alone.
Now, Sternberg receives free makeup in exchange for sponsored Instagram posts. He said he used to spend about $100 every three months on makeup, but because of these sponsorships, he hasn’t purchased any makeup in a year.
Robert Quigley is a social media journalism professor at the University of Texas at Austin. He said the way to create a great following on social media is to put out great content, pay attention to your production value, and understand the platform you’re using. After that, Quigley said, entrepreneurs can monetize their craft.
“There’s a way to make money for sure if you’re enterprising enough and you understand how to use social media well enough,” Quigley said.
Sternberg contributes much of his creative improvement, and the level of comfort he now feels with his artistic medium, to social media.
“I started off doing it by myself in my room completely alone,” he said. “Without strangers encouraging me to do what I do, I probably would not have gotten this far. Honestly, I probably would have quit a while ago, or just done bad makeup forever.”
Sternberg says the highlights of his career are the emails and messages he receives from men who say that Sternberg inspired them to wear makeup. Even with more and more men wearing makeup, Sternberg said most peoples’ negative attitudes toward the practice are not changing. However, he believes social media will force these negative sentiments to change in the future.
“Boys in makeup are a commodity for social media right now, and if a company wants to be young and hip then they need to include boys (in makeup),” Sternberg said. “So whether the people viewing that accept them or not, they’re still going to be viewing it regardless. So it doesn’t really matter how they feel, it’s still getting out there.”
While Sternberg said that people will eventually become accustomed to men wearing makeup, he knows we are not yet at that level as a society. He said the greatest challenge of running his Instagram page are the hate comments he receives.
“You want to say they don’t affect you, but they do,” Sternberg said. “It’s just something you have to deal with, constantly.”
While many people would simply delete the negative comment, Sternberg takes a different route.
“I try to educate the person intelligently, because I don’t think that hate comes from a place of knowledge,” Sternberg said.
Sternberg said he doesn’t see the hate comments as a negative.
“Even if someone is leaving you hate and it hurts your feelings, you’re exposing that person to knowledge,” he said. “Because they are now seeing something that they are not used to, which is where hate comes from.”