“1Am Whol Am S Hira Rashid, S Contributor 2 Don’t judge me by the way I look = The way I dress 8 Who I seem to be The hijab I wear doesn’t symbolize me, As a terrorist Or a perfect person My hijab symbolizes that I choose to be Respected . Unlike other women Who seem to be dejected By the men that gawk at their body With their painted on clothes and See through panty hoes I choose to be liberated Not told what I should wear Or whom I should be If you tell me how to dress And try to impress the opposite sex You must be outta your mind - That just ain’t me = < | refuse to dress : ' Ina mini-skirt - 3 Short shirt 5 Only to be hurt = By men who'll treat me like dirt 5 With their perverted minds w Occupied by filthy intentions F= The devil whispers to them With his immoral convention People don’t you see My hijab liberates me Although you may think All it does is enslave me But you are wrong In the way you think The ones without it Are the ones enslaved Shackled by images of perfection Flogged by the whip of unwanted affection Forced to bare skin and be seen as equivalent When really all they are is ambivalent They wish to be free and choose their own way Yet they have a need to bare skin And to get all the attention They are oppressed by the world With its sick minded invention ™ Py = a Of how a woman should look How she should dress Who she should be If you think I’m the one enslaved Take a good look at me. I choose to be beautiful Inside not just out I want men to see the beauty of my mind And see what I’m all about How I love my religion How I’m treated like a queen This hijab symbolizes The purity that is unseen I pity women who are used as Game, Toys and sex machines They know not of the shield That protects me But don’t be fooled by My hijab - For it doesn’t symbolize my Perfection Its a reminder of who I strive to be and It’s a mere reflection Of those women of Islam Who were and are strong Fighting for their rights and Fighting to belong I wish to be even half of What they were but I have my days Good and bad I have done or do things I wish I didn’t have But everyday I strive To fight the demons within me And everyday God willing I come closer to be A better person inside and out A better example A better leader Someone much more devout. I wish to be me In the best possible expression It takes fight, focus, patience and a little aggression To be able to think freely Be - a gee And not give a damn o> |) gem fei 3 So the world can see ee bs Chesovet Se) I am who I am ie. suds wees aa ie a Be ate So) > a eed 3 Bae: http://cncsu.cfs-senvicestca/en/student-saver A Fairy Tale Recipe Arlan Goodvin, Contributor Once upon a time there was a young ingredient named 1/2 Cup of Flour. He was gleefully mixing in the salty forest when he met Butter and Lard, two run-away mixtures from the cracked Queen Eggyolk. 1/2 Cup of Flour could see that Butter and Lard were trying to hold together so he reached into his mixing bowl and grabbed his kitchen whipper and beat them both. Butter and Lard were thankful for 1/2 Cup of Flour’s beating, so they told 1/2 Cup of Flour a very entertaining story about Queen Eggyolk’s daughter Vanilla. How her mother, the cracked Queen Eggyolk, kept her locked away in a refrigerator protected by a 4-inch cookie cutter, because Vanilla was so perfumy. 1/2 Cup of Flour stirred bristly. He vowed to Butter and Lard, the two run-away mixtures, that he would save the perfumy Vanilla. He would defeat the 4-inch cookie cutter on a lightly floured surface, and extract Va- nilla from her evil mother, the cracked Queen Eggyolk, and blend her. Then, all of a sudden, there was a preheated oven and Butter and Lard, the young ingredients, began to rise and bubble. Meanwhile, 1/2 Cup of Flour fell into the 4-inch cookie cut- ter and turned into a golden pastry. Cracked Queen Eggyolk whisked out from behind a mixing bowl and had 1/2 Cup of Flour, now a golden pastry, quietly sent off to a rack to let cool and was never to be heard from again. In the far off remoteness you could hear a mmmmmhhhmm. ~The End~