“She was becoming herself and daily casting aside that fictitious self which we assume like a garment with which to appear before the world.”
–Kate Chopin, “The Awakening”
Photo and text by Amanda McDonald
In 2014 there were 24 women CEOs in the Fortune 500. That same year, there were 27 in the Fortune 1000. These women include Marissa Mayer, the current president and CEO of Yahoo! and Indra Nooyi, the current CEO of PepsiCo. These women and more have inspired interviews, articles, and news headlines such as one from CNBC, “In the CEO battle of the sexes, women are winning”.
On September 20, 2014, a campaign by UN Women for gender equality called HeForShe was founded. Spokeswoman Emma Watson, famous for portraying Hermione Granger in the Harry Potter franchise, and other members of the movement have inspired almost 290,000 men and women around the world to pledge that they will work for equal pay for all.
Although Barack Obama defeated her in the 2008 U.S. Presidential election, Hillary Clinton announced on April 12, 2015 that she would run again. Clinton has served as First Lady of the U.S., New York State Senator and Attorney General. For the 2016 presidential campaign, she says, “Everyday Americans need a champion. And I want to be that champion”.
There is no doubt that all of these women achieved what they have without being natural champions. However, every other woman is a champion, too. Eight Loyola University Chicago students explain what makes them champions that can accomplish truly wonderful things.
Special thanks to Ellie Kirkpatrick, Gianna Marshall, Emily Ivers, Chantal Gersch, Colleen Laughlin, Sana Rizvi, Sarah Paulus and Mercedes Jasso.
By Lauren Ruckheim (Final project for Spring 2014)
Ever since I was a kid, food has been the excuse for my family to gather together. I come from a large German family, and food has played a vital role in the survival of my family. I can remember my grandfather telling me his childhood stories and explaining that when my family first immigrated to the United States we were so poor that my great grandmother would give him baked potatoes to put in his pockets and keep his hands warm as he walked to school and later have the potatoes for lunch. It is stories like these that have displayed to me that food represents my family’s survival and growth. When my family immigrated to the United States, the traditions they held onto were that of food because food represented their past and gave them a reason to come together and celebrate the future.
In addition to remembering our own ancestry, my family also likes to discover and explore other cultures cuisines. With that said, my family and I have experimented in making traditional Italian Dishes, Thai food, hand rolled sushi, and many more cuisines. When I come home for breaks, the first thing my mother asks me is what would you like to cook. From there, my family and I will spend the evening under my mother’s directions cooking, drinking, and catching up. It is one of the simplest activities and to this day the highlight of my trips home.
This past weekend when I went home for Easter break, my family and I decided to make Shrimp Pad Thai. On Friday afternoon, my sister and I met my mom at the grocery store ready to seek out all the ingredients for the dish. Like all of our cooking adventures, my mom acts as the group leading dividing up tasks and making sure all the cooking is going as scheduled. Being that I was the photographer for the evening, my tasks were quite simple such as chopping up garlic and peanuts and refilling the occasional empty cocktail. My dad’s role is always to prepare the meat. For this recipe, that meant cleaning the tails of all the fresh shrimp. My sister as a skilled mutitasker always takes it upon herself to make sure all the vegetables are washed, cut up, and ready to be prepared in the dish. In addition, she makes sure the kitchen stays clean and in working order as it gets quite chaotic with five people simultaneously cooking. As my mom is the group leader, she always takes on the most difficult roles that of preparing the sauces and combining all the ingredients in the stir-‐fry. In addition, she makes sure everyone else has a task and more importantly completes that task. Being that my brother likes to experiment with recipes of his own, he took it upon himself to create a chocolate cake with coffee frosting for dessert. Although I would not say chocolate cake is the appropriate dessert to go with Pad Thai, once my brother sets his mind to something there is no stopping him. In the mist of cooking, the kitchen is complete chaos. Everyone is cooking, dancing to the music, and talking loudly and excitedly. It is moments like these that epitomize what I love about home. Being that my siblings and I are all grown up and living on our own, it is these moments that bring us together.
Mom (Cathy), Dad (Jim), Sister (Hattie) preparing Thai noodles and sauce
Mom and Sister making funny faces while cooking.
Mom chopping onions and sister squeezing a lemon for the sauce.
Sister measuring lemon juice
Freshly chopped peanuts
Mom adding the noodles to the stir fry.
Shrimp Pad Thai, Yum!
Brother (Grant) smiling with is completed homemade chocalate cake.
By Hailey Peterson (Final project for Spring 2014)
Life full of fashion shows, pop-up shops, and photo-shoots, epitomize the glamour in being a fashion designer. But what about what goes on behind the scenes and in the daily lives of designers? For Chicago’s luxury prêt-à-porter and couture designer, Nelissa Carrillo, everyday life consists of countless cups of coffee, sketching, pulling inspiration, going behind the needle (not the knife), and spending long mornings and nights in her basement studio of Hammond, Illinois.
Carrillo attended the Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising (FIDM) in Los Angeles, California and graduated with an Associate of Arts in Fashion Design. Upon graduation she moved to Chicago to pursue her career in designing and to continue to make her name renown, not only locally but also internationally.
In the midst of Chicago’s fast-paced lifestyle, Carrillo finds comfort in her workplace, which she likes to describe as “organized chaos.”
The start of her day begins with launching out of bed, and coercing herself into skipping breakfast and heading straight to the studio with a coffee in hand. From there, she leads the day with sketching out some ideas and advancements of her upcoming collection. Carrillo then works on managing her online websites by checking orders and updating her social media sites for her brand.
After many hours of hard work, Carrillo gives herself a mental break, but fashion is never lost even when she is out of the studio. Forms of fashion follow her wherever she goes. And in some cases, it is metaphorically her English bulldog, Gucci, named after the infamous Italian fashion brand. During her breaks Carrillo maintains a healthy and simplistic lifestyle by making nutritional meals, exercising, and taking Gucci on walks.
Carrillo looks to many places for inspiration. What she thrives in presenting are pieces of visionary artwork that allow for the audience to see a narrative that she creates through her talent in design. Carrillo consistently takes an artistic viewpoint when creating what she likes to call her “wearable art.” Whether it is elements of the sea, three women who morph at night, or American comics she always has a muse behind the beauty of her pieces.
She pulls inspiration from many of her textbooks that she gathered over the course of her time at FIDM. These textbooks were a staple of her growth as a designer and she incorporates that knowledge continuously throughout her career. “Colors for Modern Fashion” by Nancy Riegelman and the “Survey of Historic Costume” by Phyllis G. Tortora and Keith Eubank are two books that she refers back to when she wants to stimulate her creativity.
Different art forms other than fashion are catalysts for her pieces, such as “architecture, classic films, nature of course (especially flowers), and sacred geometry” says Carrillo.
After all the dedication Carrillo drives into her work, she is rewarded with the extravagance that comes with being a fashion designer. What she produces behind the scenes, she is able to see narrated during her events and fashion shows.
“Events are the best part. Especially when a client gets super excited about a piece. When they try it on and their face lights up, it is all worth it,” says Carrillo.
Nelissa Carrillo’s rack at The Chicago Fashion Market’s pop-up shop and fashion show on April 19th 2014
Nelissa Carrillo ringing a customer up during her pop-up shop on April 19th 2014.
Nelissa Carrillo drawing sketches in her basement studio in Hammond, IL.
Nelissa Carrillo browsing through her couture sketches.
Nelissa Carrillo’s sketches for her upcoming fall 2014 collection.
Nelissa Carrillo reading “Colors for Modern Fashion” while sipping on some coffee.
After many hours of hard work, Carrillo gives herself a mental break
Inside Nelissa Carrillo’s humble abode; highlighting artwork that inspires her.
Beadwork on one of Nelissa Carrillo’s couture gowns.
“Fashion shows are great too, it is crazy to see my pieces on a live person, with full movement, everything comes to life,”she adds.
By Lindsey Pawlowski (Final Project for Spring 2014)
It was mid-morning on Good Friday. It was a sleepy day in Lorain, Ohio, a city 30 miles west of Cleveland and 10 miles from my hometown. The sky was hazy, yet the clouds were not thick enough to subvert the spring sun. A grey glow eerily illuminated the south side, mirroring the aged pavement on East 28th Street.
The majority of the city subscribed to Catholicism, perhaps contributing to the barren roads on a high religious holiday. But as a city along the Rust Belt, Lorain has succumb to economic depression and desolation over the past two decades from its declining steel industry.
Grove Avenue and East 28th Street form a T in southern Lorain. At the head of the T sits the ominous United States Steel Corporation, running three miles along East 28th Street. Once the largest employer in Lorain, the division of the US Steel Corporation now sits as a ghost of an illustrious past.
The story approached me: I was familiar with the economic decline felt by the failing steel industry, but unaware of how blatant were its effects in the immediate areas of the steel mill. The previous prosperity and recent downturn were visible along Grove Avenue and East 28th Street. Dozens of bars and nightclubs sat along the steel mill, which catered to the male workers who would gather at the watering holes after their shifts. As the workforce became a fraction of its former size, these nightlife spots lost their steady stream of customers and shut down. Most now sit in vacancy and as a reminder of what once was.
As I drove north on Grove Avenue approaching the faded industrial entity, the decay of the community became increasingly evident. The vacant lots and decrepit side streets were uninviting, yet the formidable US Steel Corporation stood with authority, pushing me to park my car elsewhere. I pulled into a lot sandwiched between a truck depot and a strip club on East 28th Street. Both were so dilapidated it was unclear whether they were abandoned as well, until a truck entered the depot, driven by a rugged-looking man.
I walked down East 28th with my D-SLR and notebook in tow, sticking out like a sore thumb. There were few signs of life, other than a couple cars that would pass every few minutes, with the riders staring at me curiously. Between the degradation and masculinity of the three-mile-long stretch of vacant bars and gentlemen clubs, I was sorely unwelcom.
A Storied Past
Beginning in the early 20th century, the steel industry was the powerhouse of Lorain’s economy, like many of the Ohio cities along Lake Erie. For the majority of the century, almost a fifth of the population was employed within the steel industry. It was a strong, blue-collar and bustling town that held its pride in contributing to the American manufacturing force.
The 1970’s and 1980’s held the steel mill’s heydays. High school graduates either attended college or went to work at the mill, where the abundance of jobs did not feel the slowly approaching decline of the industry. The thousands of workers employed, the vast majority of whom were male, aroused a new industry of nightlife. Bars, restaurants and strip clubs lined the three mile stretch as oasis for post-work imbibing.
The city of Lorain was built and thrived upon the steel mills. Many immigrants who found themselves in the melting pot of Lorain found employment there as well. Shops and restaurants flourished along Broadway in the heart of downtown Lorain. With the stable employment that the steel industry had consistently brought, the rest of the city’s economy grew and prospered.
As the decade came to a close, Lorain and other major steel industry hubs in Ohio began to suffer.
Youngstown and Cleveland were home to mills run by LTV Steel, the second largest producer of steel in the country, and felt the steep competition between domestic and foreign steel production and manufacturing. The company declared bankruptcy twice, first in 1986 and then in 2000, and eventually closed mills across Cleveland, laying off more than 5,000 workers.
Since the 1990’s, Lorain has felt the downfall as well. The production of steel and employment rates was nowhere near the rates in the mid-century due to domestic divestment. The recession in 2008 brought Lorain’s manufacturing to its knees, with Republic Steel shutting off its blast furnaces and laying off hundreds of workers.
A Feeble Future
Today, less than 1,000 are employed within the steel industry in Lorain, while new investment projects and aspirations of a revitalized manufacturing economy are still wavering in a non-conducive national economy. Between 2001 and 2011, there was a 31% decline in manufacturing jobs, the staple of blue-collar Lorain. A population loss of over 7,000 since the 1990’s has illustrated the loss of hope for a rejuvenated Lorain.
I head a few miles north from East 28th Street along Broadway towards downtown Lorain. It was a familiar area from my childhood, at least until I reached the heart of the area. The vacant storefronts of the once vibrant commercial mirrored the deterioration of the steel industry and its surrounding areas. All areas of Lorain’s economy felt the decline of manufacturing, and what was left standing was gasping for life. The toy store, the music shop, the red-bricked bar and grill. All were fading relics of a past, one I knew, that may never return.
As initiatives to rehabilitate the steel industry have fell short, it is uncertain of what may come next. For a smaller city along the Rust Belt, Lorain may be waiting indefinitely.
Sports can be played by anyone at any time as long as the game is known how to play. You can create teams and play for fun. However the Loyola University Chicago Ramblers Men’s Volleyball team is one that believes success comes from many aspects of life, not just skill, talent, or what happens on the court. The #1 ranked Ramblers are currently having their most successful season in program history this year with an incredible record of 27-1. How have they done it you ask?
Well it started about a year ago on May 1st, 2013 when the Ramblers Lost to UC Irvine, the back to back national champions In their first ever appearance in the NCAA Final Four. That took place at UCLA and when the team returned home to Chicago, they started training for next season. There are many aspects to training to be one of the top teams in college volleyball. One of the most important is weight training. The team weight trains a minimum of four times a week and have been doing so since August. Weight training helps increase verticals, speed, explosiveness, and overall strength. The Ramblers are known in the athletic department for being the hardest working team at Loyola, and it goes to show.
The team begins official practice as a unit in August and if they accomplish their goals, will end their season May 3rd in the National Championship being hosted on their home turf in the Gentile Arena. That’s a long season, that being said there are ongoing injuries that need to be treated and rehabbed. The Ramblers do so by spending a mandatory 2 hours a week in the sports medicine athletic training room in the Al Norville Center, another aspect of what they say keeps makes them so successful.
A new strategy of meditation was brought aboard to the Ramblers program last year by team Chaplin Joshua Peters. The Ramblers meditate once a week after practice and on every game day. They say it helps keep their minds clear of any distractions and really helps to focus on the task at hand.
The Ramblers spend all this time working for their team sometimes people forget they’re students just like everyone else. They have the same work load as any other student but time management is crucial for them as they spend upwards of 25 hours a day with the team.
The Ramblers are a very close nit team. They say this comes from having a small squad of only 16 players. They are all mature and hold each other accountable for doing what needs to be done in all the situations I have just explained above. Doing all of this, helps the Ramblers tremendously when they show up every morning, rain, shine, healthy or not to practice at 7:30 A.M. The team has had an outstanding season this year by doing all of these things, off the court. That can only do so much though, The Ramblers will have to prove that all of the different things they do work by playing for their first National Title in program history. The Ramblers will play the winner of Penn State vs. Lewis in the NCAA semi-finals, Thursday May 1st at 8 P.M. in Gentile Arena.
Loyola Ramblers weight training facility. This is where the Ramblers train four times a week to build and maintain strength.
Michelle Jacobs, the Ramblers athletic trainer who is full time with the team. She helps the Ramblers prepare for and recover from all of their training.
Ramblers Sports Medicine training room where they spend a minimum of two hours a week for injury treatment, recovery, and prevention.
The team film session. They watch film once the day before a match and once the day of to make sure they know there opponent like they know themselves.
The Ramblers meditate just before each match to ensure focus and a clear mind going into the match.
Al Norville building. A brand new building that is home to the training staff, the weight training staff, the admitionstration, and the teams locker room. The Ramblers spend many hours a week working for the name they wear on their backs, Loyola.
Norville study area where the athletes spend the little time they get away from their sport, to study.
When the Ramblers do everything they can off the court to ensure their success on the court, it’s time to show Chicago what they work so hard to do, win.
By Chase DiFeliciantonio (Mid-term project for Spring 2014)
While most folks are sleeping, Matt Schuetzner works. Schuetzner, 25, is a journeyman building engineer from Chicago, IL, who spends most of his mornings from 12 a.m. to eight a.m. watching over the gargantuan, rumbling machinery that heats the adjacent Evanston Township High School. Much of Schuetzner’s job is equal parts boredom and danger and he spends much of his time just waiting for something to go wrong with one of the snaking tubes and knobs that run into and away from the massive boilers. Capable of producing 50,000 pounds of steam per hour, the boilers are the heart of the facility and it is Schuetzner’s job to keep them all in working order.
This particular Saturday night Schuetzner is working overtime and his shift will end at 12 a.m., much earlier than usual. Schuetzner ambles adroitly about the aging 4-story brick building, adjusting knobs, making notes, and smilingly commenting on what is for him fulfilling work. “Not bad for 25” he says, referencing his age with a shy grin.
Instead of going to college, Schuetzner attempted join the U.S. Army but was rejected because he is asthmatic. After talking to an uncle who is also a building engineer, Schuetzner found that he enjoyed the hands-on nature of the work and apprenticed himself for two years to learn the trade. Now a first level journeyman, Schuetzner finds his work both involving and meaningful, “I like this job, you get to get your hands dirty” said Schuetzner.
Schuetzner spends a typical night ensuring that the complex heating system runs smoothly, checking everything from steam output and pressure gauges to chemical levels and more. But there are myriad complications that can and have arisen during his two-year tenure here.
“One time one of the air compressors shut down” Schuetzner explains, indicating a whirring iron box replete with blinking red lights that supplies and regulates the air supply to the boilers, “the alarm that’s supposed to tell me that went out too and one of the tanks was shooting steam like crazy” he says, indicating a hulking container adjacent to the whirring box, “that could have been real bad” he added.
The roiling hearts of the facility are its four massive boilers. Crimson and blue flames leap flamboyantly inside the boilers as they emit a sustained, low-pitched roar. “You’re not supposed to stare at the flame for too long,” says Schuetzner with a grin as we both peer into the rollicking interior.
The boilers intake a specified mixture of air, water, and gas in order to perpetually stoke the roaring flames inside. The hulking furnaces burn around the clock during the winter months in order to heat the neighboring Evanston Township High School.
“You should be here when they’re on full blast,” says Schuetzner “it can get real loud in here.”
Part of Schuetzner’s work takes place in the underground tunnel that leads to the school. The tunnel is damp and hot, filled with the hiss of steam and the groaning of aging iron. The many pipes and tubes throb with the motion of the superheated steam that runs ceaselessly through them and sharp metal obstacles seem to jut out around every corner. The tunnel narrows as it progresses and the atmospheric slapping of our boots in the myriad puddles make me glad to be with someone who knows more than one way out.
“That’s the escape hatch,” says Schuetzner, indicating a bolted iron hatch that leads to the street level. “You don’t want to have to use that.”
Down here below street level, as the pipes swell and contract, they spout leaks in the form of small geysers of steam that spring from exposed sections of piping. “You don’t want to bare-skin one of those,” warns Schuetzner. The massive connecting sections of the heavy iron pipes must be periodically cut out and replaced with new pieces and the low ceilings, humid air, and exposed sections of scalding iron make the work difficult and dangerous.
The interior of what appears to be the office is not much different from the machine shop. The clutter is just as bad if not worse and the only real difference is the presence of a desktop computer and the enigmatic technical diagrams that plaster the walls. Despite the gritty, industrial feel of the plant, it is a modern facility and Schuetzner’s job requires a certain level of computer competency. “We can pretty much run everything from here” Schuetzner says as he manipulates a digital display of the high school. “Most of the school was built in the 20’s but everything runs through here now.
Schuetzner’s muscular, oil-worn hands seem out of place on the keyboard. Although he is proficient with the computer program, he is more at home poking about the metallic behemoths in the boiler room next door. There is a giddy quality in Schuetzner’s voice as he explains how the steam plant works and he carries a young man’s exuberance for his work. He is glad not to be trapped in what he calls “some cube” in an office somewhere. Although his job may not always be exciting, for Schuetzner it is certainly fulfilling.
Most of Schuetzner’s shifts are quiet affairs. He typically has the place to himself and he seems to enjoy the peaceful solitude of his job. “I get a lot of reading done,” said Schuetzner, “it almost feels like a church in here sometimes” he adds.
Schuetzner stands in the middle of the combination break room/ machine shop amidst the pervasive smells of sanded wood and aging iron. Every crevice in the room is stuffed or stacked with some piece of industrial detritus. Old nuts and bolts sit in cubbyholes adjacent to a wall of tools straight from a backyard tinkerer’s daydream. A persistent humming emanating from the machinery in the next room gives the cluttered space a comfortable feel in spite of its harsh lighting. “This place is a mess,” Schuetzner muses as he scowls at the stacks of junk.
Schuetzner talks about the difficulties he faced during his apprenticeship. He says it was a physically and mentally demanding two years wherein he learned the basics of his trade. “It could get really frustrating some times,” Schuetzner recalled as he stood astride the second floor catwalk, “I put some major dents in my locker some nights.”
While many men his age have recently graduated college and are still contemplating their professional futures, Schuetzner, 25, has already settled into a full-time career and is a member of the Local 399 International Union of Operating Engineers. “I never really liked school,” said Schuetzner who received his Associate Degree in Applied Science before becoming a building engineer. “A lot of people are coming back to the trades, ” Schuetzner said, “it’s good, steady work.”
Schuetzner makes his rounds. February 22, 2014 in Evanston, IL.
The steam plant provides the heating and cooling for the high school next door in both the winter and summer months. “They used to hate the building engineers over at the high school. But things are better now” said Schuetzner. Photo taken February 22, 2014 in Evanton, IL
Schuetzner has worked for Evanston Township High School since November 2012. Photo taken February 22, 2013 in Evanston, IL.
Schuetzner navigates the labyrinthine tunnel that runs from the steam plant to the adjacent Evanston Township High School. February 22, 2013 in Evanston, IL.
Flames burn brightly inside boiler No. 2 during a maintenance check. Photo taken February 22, 2014 in Evanston, IL.
Schuetzner checks pressure levels on February 22, 2014 in Evanston, IL.
Flames burn brightly inside boiler No. 2 during a maintenance check. Photo taken February 22, 2014 in Evanston, IL.
“I didn’t want to go to college and I couldn’t join the army because of my asthma” said Schuetzner, describing how he came to be a building engineer. Photo taken on February 22, 2014 in Evanston, IL.
Schuetzner typically works the early morning shift by himself at the steam plant. “It can be boring at times,” Schuetzner said. Photo taken February 22, 2014 in Evanston, IL.
Schuetzner stands next to massive hoppers inside the building, relics of its former function as a coal storage and processing facility. February 22, 2014 in Evanston, IL.
The Evanston Township High School Steam Plant burns long into the night. February 22, 2013 in Evanston, IL.
West-side neighborhood Humboldt Park is home to one of the largest Puerto Rican communities outside the small Caribbean island itself. The neighborhood, especially along Division Street, is marked with flags, murals, street art, and cultural centers that boast Puerto Rican pride.
“Where Preservation Meets Inspiration,” is the motto of the Institute of Puerto Rican Art and Culture. Located in the park, the institute is the only museum in the country that honors the culture and history of the Puerto Rican people. There are rotating exhibits and galleries filled with art straight from Puerto Rico and work of local artists of Puerto Rican descent.
Former Alderman Billy Ocasio is a life-long resident of Humboldt Park and now serves as CEO of the Institute. He says that the museum not only helps to preserve a Puerto Rican identity in the city, but it also educates a new generation about their ethnic roots.
However, the community did not always reside in Humboldt Park. Ocasio explained that Lincoln Park had been the initial Puerto Rican hub in Chicago, but due to gentrification and development, the community was pushed further west to their current home. Some of the street murals speak to the struggles this community has seen over the years, he said.
Whether the art is inside the Institute or on the concrete outside, it serves as a uniting thread for this community’s identity and sends a message about the importance of preserving and remembering where we come from.
Note: Photos taken inside the Institute of Puerto Rican Arts and Culture feature work from Miguel Bayon’s “Caricatura Urbana,” Santiago Flores-Charneco’s “Mascarada Carnal,” Ramon Mirand’s “Puerto Rican Youth 2010,” Col. Jose Hernandez Castrodad’s “Veterano,” and other artwork on display in April 2013.
What does the city of Chicago have that the southwest suburbs don’t? A popcorn shop…until now.
Married couple, Tom and Karen Crohan wasn’t completely happy with the jobs they have or frustrated with finding a job in her field, they have always wanted to open up their own business. After tossing around ideas for a couple of years, it clicked. They wanted to open a gourmet popcorn business.
Tom has been a marketing manager for KFC and currently Taco Bell for almost three decades, but as the idea of retirement comes closer, he wanted to leave his career in the QSR, Inc. franchise, when the time came, knowing there was life after retirement.
After ten years of moving from state to state and changing her career positions multiple times, Karen wanted a stable job to help support her family if she couldn’t be in probation any longer.
After months of planning and struggles, Butter-Up opened for business on February 9, 2013. The shop sells gourmet popcorn that is freshly made every day, cotton candy, gourmet nuts that can only be found here and at Navy Pier, candy, and gift baskets that can be made to order.
The gift baskets are made by Karen, as she puts a special touch on the baskets that the customers specifically ask for. She will purchase small items that can be put in the baskets for a personal touch. You want to send a gift basket or tin full of popcorn to your grandson that lives in Florida? It can be done. The baskets and tins will be sent off by the shop and the popcorn will still have its fresh flavor when it arrives.
Butter-Up is a popcorn lover’s dream. There are flavors that range a wide variety of tastes. Flavors include the traditional butter, kettle, and cheese, caramel, Butter-Up’s Chicago Mix, jalapeno, buffalo breath, white cheddar, cinnamon bun, garlic parmesan, white and milk chocolate drizzle over caramel. The owners even take suggestions to flavors customers might want and suggestions to improve their popcorn.
The shop provides a warm and welcoming environment that keeps customers coming in.
But what makes the shop unique is that it is family run. Karen runs the shop by herself throughout the week, while Tom comes in on the weekends to provide a helping hand, and their youngest son, Ryan runs their social media sites. It’s a family process with help from Tom and Karen’s three kids, future daughter-in-law, and future son-in-law, when they’re each available.
The business has been successful so far through its two months being open, but it’s also had its ups and down moments. But new customers are still flooding in after recommendations from family and friends. Most importantly, the owners don’t want to be compared to Garrett’s popcorn as Butter-Up has a homey feel with lots of love and their own special recipes.
You hear the word and think of hospital beds, weak bodies and crying families. It is a word you hope it never attaches itself to your name. And it never will, if you are lucky. But not all of us have that luck.
I was not diagnosed until September 2012, but I had known and felt that something was wrong since I was a young girl. I would wake up in the middle of the night, completely unable to move my neck. Or sometimes it was my right arm. Once, when I was seven, it was my whole body. All day I would lay in bed completely still. Movement was agony and little girls aren’t known for their tolerance to pain. I have learned to manage, but it doesn’t hurt any less.
I also get sick a lot. Every flu season, change in weather, encounter with a mildly sick friend, I get sick. I was spending too many days laying bed sick, tired, and hurting.
When my specialist told me I had psoriatic arthritis I was originally relieved. I had seen a dozen other doctors who had no idea what was wrong with me. I was so fed up I just started saying I had the Hannah Jarvis syndrome. But when Dr. Shah said those words I was given an answer to the question I had been asking for years. In a way, the diagnosis was a gift.
Psoriatic arthritis is a type of inflammatory arthritis that is passed along through the skin condition psoriasis. My skin is the one thing that hasn’t affected by the disease, but the condition is still in my blood. I have severe and debilitating pain in my neck, lower back, hips and shoulders, characterizing the spondylitis form of the disease. The pain goes through periods of remission, but I can always count on it to come back. My immune system is in a constant state of overdrive. While antibodies are working constantly to ease my aching joints, my immune system is left vulnerable to previously stated viruses, bacteria and bugs.
Before I was diagnosed, I barely took any medicine stronger than an aspirin, and that was only used sparingly. I now take 15 pills a day, and will probably have to take them for the rest of my life. There is no cure for psoriatic arthritis, just ways to minimize pain and long term damage. The six pills on the left are called disease-modifying antirheumatic drugs that will prevent any further joint damage. The five in the center are different pain medications to dull the pain and reduce inflammation, and the two on the right (which are about half the size of my pinky finger) are for boosting my immune system and overall health.
Not every aspect of my new health regime is so tedious. A modified, anti-inflammatory diet that among other things, cuts out refined sugars, red meat and eggs has reduced the likelihood of pain breakouts in addition to making healthier food choices. From time to time I enjoy a deep tissue massage that alleviates tense muscles surrounding my problem areas. And I take two to three baths every week, soaking in Epsom salts, alleviating pain in a more soothing and natural way.
The hardest part about living with a disease is knowing that I’m broken, that I’m somewhat lesser, that I would probably not survive in the animal kingdom. I have missed birthday parties, concerts and parades. Before I plan a day I have to pack my medications and listen to them rattle around in my purse all day. I’m not as strong as I want to be. But I’m not as weak as the disease wants me to be.
My strength is in my knowing, my prevention, and in my responsibility to myself. My source of pain is my backbone, and my backbone is what must keep me going.
This is the face of a diseased young woman.
Many days are spent laying under the covers, hiding from the pain.
Hip difficulties have been the newest addition to my neverending list of ailments. My specialist says this is due to bone displacement in my pelvis. If I’m lucky and persistent with my treatment, I’ll avoid a wheelchair at least until I’m 50.
Until I was 16, I barely took anything more than one or two aspirin in a year. I have to take these 13 pills on a daily basis.
I like to joke that I take in more medicine than I do food. Comparing my medicine cabinet to my refrigerator, it may be true.
I soak in Epsom Salts for 45 minutes, 2-3 times per week. These baths are one of the few natural options I have for pain relief.
Cervical vertabrae (the bones in the neck) in my body are disfigured because of my scoliosis. My spine is shaped differently from the normal “S” shape. Mine is more like an upside down question mark.
My relationship with my disease is different than most with psoriatic arthritis. Instead of deteriorating joints in the ankles, hands and smaller areas, my disease is in my back. The bones that hold me up are the same ones dragging me down.
Being anywhere alone in the middle of the day doesn’t necessarily have to be a lonely experience. I went to the Lincoln Park Zoo alone in the middle of a winter day in the middle of the week to see what kind of people were also at the zoo and to hopefully understand what others do when they’re alone. When I got there, however, it became apparent that aside from zoo employees, I was the only one there alone. I changed my objective to portraying what it feels like to be an outsider, to be alone among strangers, be that through perspective or subject matter.
You look at things differently when you’re by yourself. You feel things differently. This photo essay aims to make some sort of sense of these sensations, or at least present them.
