the Art of Travel

It’s common knowledge that travel can be restorative- both in terms of a mental break from your day-to-day and a needed respite physically from demanding schedules. But lately I’ve been wondering what travel could provide on a community level. In light of recent political shifts and grave misunderstandings about immigration, asylum and cultural differences I wonder what travel could bring to someone’s worldview.

One haustler in particular could make a second career out of all her travels.. and I was lucky to sit down with her and ask what it’s like to travel solo as a woman and what she feels she gains from each experience.

Jess: I admire all the places you’ve been and how recently you’ve done quite a few spots solo!

What does traveling solo reveal about yourself?

Jenn: I have done a lot of traveling over the past 10+ years but actually only a small amount has been solo. When I do travel solo, the biggest thing on my mind is trying to stay off my phone and not use it as a crutch. I try to be present in the moment. It can be uncomfortable to eat a meal alone in a foreign country or even in a restaurant in your hometown. The default is to pick up the phone. Traveling solo reminds me how much I rely on the comfort of my phone and I try to be conscious of breaking that habit. The times I’ve put the phone away and talked to the person next to me have ended up in new friendships (even if single-serving) and unexpected adventures and conversations. 

Solo travel also builds confidence. It feels empowering to navigate an unknown place and not get lost. You have to trust your gut and listen to your instincts in new surroundings and I think that can create more self awareness in a healthy way. 

I actually prefer traveling with a friend because as a female solo traveler, you unfortunately have to be on even more high alert in certain situations. When I’m solo, I have a harder time relaxing and letting my guard down compared to when I have a travel companion. However, I have met many solo female travelers that are an inspiration to me and have no fear of getting out into the world and experiencing things on their own. This is something I strive to do more of in the future.

Jess: You know I chose to move to Chicago because of that very experience. I took myself to dinner and started conversations with strangers who opened up about their love of this city and community. While we can’t count on every conversation with a stranger to be a wonderful experience- you’re right that setting down your phone and being open to connection allows for opportunity and adventure to happen.

Jenn: Yes! People are open to connecting. People have a lot in common, even when we come from different backgrounds. Being open to new connections can lead to new experiences you may never have had otherwise. People want to share their culture and their community.

Jess: What has been your favorite spot so far?

Jenn: I have a few favorites for different reasons. For nature, I absolutely love the Swiss Alps. It was the very first place I went abroad after college in 2008 and I was blown away by the beauty. I recently returned to the Lauterbrunnen area in 2022 to see it again and I was even more blown away the second time. Being up in the mountains surrounded by the Alps makes you feel so small in the world with these massive peaks surrounding you and the fresh air and distant sound of cowbells nearby. It’s a great feeling being out there. 

 I have a bit of a connection with Japan. I was born there since my dad was stationed there in the Air Force at the time. I’ve been back twice as an adult and it is a place that I will always have travel plans for in motion. Tokyo is obviously massive and you can’t possibly have the same experience there twice with how much there is to see and do. I love how overwhelming it can be to the senses and how conquering the metro there can feel like a real feat! I’ve done a lot of research for trip planning in Japan and there are so many unique areas that I still want to explore. I’m also very interested in Japanese culture and it’s such a respectful, safe place. It’s tops on my list for recommendations when people ask me where they should go internationally.

 The country I have visited the most is France. It’s cheesy but I love Paris. I think I’ve been to Paris at least five times over the years, sometimes just for a night to catch a flight home. French is the only other language I can speak decently, so I do love to make it to France any chance I get to practice speaking with locals. It’s a challenge for me personally and nothing feels better than a French cab driver who doesn’t speak English in a small medieval town complimenting your French. I also love the food, the wine, the history — all of it! And I’ve never found any of the stereotypes to be true about the French being rude or not liking Americans, especially if you put in a little effort. Some of my favorite travel memories take place in Paris — an unplanned night out dancing until 6am with total strangers in Oberkampf, a spontaneous karaoke night in Montmartre with people we met sitting next to us at dinner, crashing a house party in the Marais just because we heard Kesha playing from an open window. 

Jess: Is there any place in particular you learned the most about community?

Jenn: I’ve never been anywhere so hospitable and welcoming as Jordan. Each person I was lucky to meet during my time there was so friendly and kind and helpful. The Jordanians were genuinely excited to share their history and culture and open their doors to total strangers. I loved every bit of the experience, especially the food. Everyone I met had a friend, uncle or cousin who could help me and my friends out if I needed anything from a ride somewhere to a recommendation on where to go (and they did!). I collected so many WhatsApp numbers on that trip. I’ve never been anywhere else where I’ve felt such a strong sense of pride from the locals to share their community and heritage with guests.

Jess: What a beautiful reminder of how a strong community can build this network of connectivity. It can be both a lifeline and a resource!

When in these amazing places, how do you keep yourself from being a “tourist”? I know you do work to show up authentically and with a true passion for culture and as someone who hopes to travel more, I want to do it conscientiously.

Jenn: This is a great question. It can obviously be hard to fit in as a local in certain places. The best way I have found is to keep an open mind. Be open to learning about the local culture and history. Take a local’s advice — experience a place through the eyes of a local. I like to book a day trip with a local guide to get a lay of the land and a brief overview of the local history. A food tour is a great way to get a sense of place. Food brings people together and creates memorable experiences. You can also take a recipe home and share that experience with others. 

Jess: Does travel aid in healing and growing?

Jenn: Absolutely. For me personally, after going through a breakup in early 2024, I found myself on a group trip in Croatia and Montenegro later that fall with a couple dozen other American tourists that were about 10+ years older than me. I was lucky to have had deep conversations with a few of the women in the group that really helped reshape my perspective on what I’d been recently going through and what I may strive for in the future. I love connecting with people I come across during my travels. A conversation with a total stranger can be really healing and also inspiring in many ways. 

 It’s also really healthy to meet people outside of your daily bubble. This keeps your mind open to new ideas and new ways of thinking. I wish everyone was required to leave the country, let’s say, every five years just for that reason alone.

Jess: If you could leave our haustlers with one final thought... whay would you like to say?

Jenn: The world is a really chaotic place right now. When it comes down to it, all we have is community. You don't have to travel far to share a meal with a stranger or learn something new about your neighbor. We can all be better at building our networks and communities by taking time to listen, showing up for one another, and being just a little more compassionate with each other. The Haus is a perfect example of just how important and impactful community can be. I love being part of a community that lifts each other up. I love seeing the Haus pool resources when someone is in need — no questions asked. When we break barriers and build community, magical things can happen!

Don’t Just Do Nothing

You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to desist from it.

— Pirkei Avot (2:21).

  As Christofascism takes the reins of US power, thereby impacting the whole of this continent and the globe, it should be abundantly clear at this point that appealing to the state — any state — is a losing strategy. The world had already lost when the “choice” this November was between two versions of fascism. We offer up this sampler of ideas, encouraging you to think and act for yourselves, with each other, as precisely the only winning strategy. If each idea here seems not enough on its own — well, it isn’t. The Pirkei Avot quote, perhaps the most widely known and cited teaching from Jewish text, was penned some two thousand years ago. So many forms of despotism —empires, monarchies, and states — have risen and fallen in that time. We are not alone, as anarchists and Jews, in our ethical imperative to wrestle with every type of authority. Ancestors throughout human history — people of all colors, genders, and cultures of this earth — have struggled together to resist the imposition of coercive, hierarchical violence. Crucially, people have autono-mously organized, defended, and practiced myriad forms of mutual aid, collective care, and self-governance for millennia — what is often called “prefigurative politics.” They haven’t put off the worlds they want to see but instead have directly acted as if they were already free. As diasporic rebels, our Jewishness teaches us to rely on solidarity beyond all borders. Our teachings compel us to lean on the community of others to live lives worth living, whether we are mourning or celebrating, or grappling time and again with what liberation should and could look like. When we start Shabbat each week — twenty-five hours of practicing “the world to come” — and end it with Havdalah — when we ease ourselves back into this brutal “world as it is” — we do so with braided offerings (bread and a candle, respectively). Such braids, in these times, underscore the imperative for interwoven-ness, for interrelationality, between each and every one of us, from all walks of life, who want to destroy fascism and bring about liberatory social transformations. May all freedom-seeking peoples journey side by side toward those aspirations by better loving and caring for each other.

Here are twenty things you can do to counter fascism — yes, you! yes, now! Dream up and put into motion many, many more things too. This is only a beginning.

1

Do doikayt (hereness) within your one-on-one relationships. What would it look like to check in with each of your beloveds based on your current conditions and communicate with love to each other what you envision for the world you want to build? Identify the soil amendments necessary in thought, word, and deed for those seeds to flourish.

2

 Make people soup and do not stop inviting them over for soup! Be a reason for living.

3

Build a support network. Join with like-minded people and organize for quality over quantity; a few devoted comrades can go further than a large and dispassionate group. Make art about it. Your support network, the love of your friends and family, can always be broader; build it bigger, with care and intentionality. Make more art about it. Try out new actions: talk to people and ask how they’re feeling, distribute literature, organize a study group, or put up stickers or disperse seed bombs together. With every loving bond we forge, and all the new art we make, we divorce ourselves a little more from the demons that haunt us — hopelessness, irony, and complacency — and find sparks of possibility. Try, fail, and try again and again.

4

Buy, accumulate, or otherwise procure Plan B, and save it for yourself and others in case it’s needed later. Set up a Plan B distro in your community. Do the same with other, potentially soon-hard-to-access supplies related to bodily autonomy.

5

Write letters to people in prison and detention, send them books, and/or do jail support and solidarity for those facing state repression in your communities. Act in ways that thwart carceral logics in your responses to conflict and harm as well as your day-to-day relations with others. Remember, there are no prisons or cops in olam ha-ba (the world to come).

6

 Make art and display it in public. Draw, paint, or write a colorful sign about your dreams, your hopes for a better world, or to celebrate something that you love about this one. It doesn’t matter if you don’t think of yourself as an artsy type. If you can, get together with others to do this; share art materials, space, and ideas. Wheat paste (or wallpaper paste or glue) your finished work in public — somewhere you and others will see it when going about your daily lives. You’ve now made a material change to your surroundings. It will make people smile. It will make people feel less alone. It will make visible your resistance as well as visions. It also won’t last forever. Nothing does. You can always make more.

7 

Take concrete steps to build relationships beyond borders and strengthen global solidarity with those who share your values. Here are a few starting points. Learn a new language and schedule mutual practice sessions with others studying your language; such skills will likely also prove useful to aid those at increased threat of being targeted. Reach out to other people (or collectives, projects, etc.) in other parts of the world who you share affinity with — Jews and Muslims, dispossessed and displaced people, anarchists and queers, and so on — and see if there's anything you can collaborate on. Seek out the stories of people who fought or fled authoritarian regimes in the past and present; learn from their experiences, and engage in discussions about our current challenges and a diversity of tactics to address them.

8

Learn new skills, share them, and help others learn new skills toward everything we need and desire — everything for everyone, and what’s more for free. Learn to be a medic, facilitator, birth and death doula, electrician, filmmaker, mediator, writer, researcher to dig up information for your local antifascist crews, and on and on. Learn how to stop bleeds, plant gardens, squat and/or build houses, purify water, craft zines, sew clothing, repair cars, use a chain saw, make composting toilets, or cook for crowds. Learn how to aid folks in finding refuge, calming their nervous systems, setting up digital security, getting hormones, and so much more.

9

 Feel your emotions. Do not sublimate them. Feel them and remember that this connects us to everyone who has ever despaired. Feel them with others. Set up peer support networks, a weekend-long emotional care clinic or daylong emotional aid skills share, or something as simple as social spaces where you can find others, sip herbal tea, and reciprocally warm each others’ hearts, even if temporarily.

10

Learn about and begin to practice alternative decision-making structures and group processes that have served those who got shit done in the past. Practice good processes that are cut from the cloth that the Zapatistas refer to as buen gobierno(good governance, or self-governance). Learn about Zapatista autonomous communities, Chéran, Rojava, and many other examples of self-governance, past and present, as inspiration as well as horizons to work toward.

11

 Gather and distribute free N95/KN95 masks and COVID tests as a baseline toward building a more generalized harm reduction crew that can gather and distribute, for example, Naloxone, fentanyl test strips, clean needles, condoms, and lube. Normalize COVID, other health protections, and additional ways of taking reciprocal care of each other. Go to outdoor events (or mask up for indoor ones) to table and share pamphlets on collective COVID safety and harm reduction.

12

We have a long history of fighting fascism, states, and policing, including as embodied in a rich tradition of anti-authoritarian Jewish songs. Sing “Daloy Politsey/Polizei” (down with the police) at your next prison noise demo or Palestinian solidarity action. Start a study group and find inspiration in those stories — and then act on them. Join in fascist watches and cop watches, or start them in your neighborhood or city. Prepare forward for community self-defense, which can come in many shapes and sizes.

13

If you care for a child or children, work with one or many other caregivers to create a mutual aid group if there isn’t one already! Distribute multilingual flyers at pickup and drop-off spots for school, day care, or local playgrounds in order to find other caregivers to involve. Plan weekly or biweekly meetups at whatever space kids usually hang out (such as a park), and share needs and resources.

14

Revive the concept and practice of kassi, the mutual aid funds/networks that used to keep neighbors afloat and supported in eastern European shtetls. Borrow from your own ancestral traditions/histories of mutual aid to build real-life community by strengthening relations with your neighbors and comrades for the days and years to come.

15

Take time to mourn your losses and grieve your dead — as inseparable from fighting and organizing for the living; as part and parcel of mending the world and ourselves. Set up temporary and ongoing public altars. Paint murals to honor lost friends and comrades. Lean on the deep wisdom of grief rituals that have sustained life for millennia, such as saying Kaddish for the dead or doing shiva after a loss. Make rituals part of your resistance, queering and self-organizing them in collectivity with others. Take those rituals out into your community — by a river, on a street corner, at a DIY space or radical bookfair, during a forest defense or as a direct action.

16

Feed people for free. Look for a Food Not Bombs or Coffee Not Cops chapter, or similar nonhierarchical mutual aid project near you, get in touch, and join in collecting ingredients for, cooking, and/or serving a meal. If there's nothing in your area, organize a free picnic; put up posters and encourage everyone to come — and optionally, bring a dish. Talking to the people you share the food with is important; do this if you can. Notice the moment when someone comes to understand that food can be good and free and shared without restrictions, obligations, eligibility criteria, or expectations; this means that things don't have to be the way they are.

17

 If a friend or someone you know is having suicidal thoughts and reaches out to you, offer to drop everything and be present with them. Small acts of peer support can make an enormous difference; think of yourself as a “tourniquet” for them when they most need it. You can hold space for them, for instance; don’t make it about you or act scared but instead simply allow them to share feelings, especially without fear of the cops being called. Or keep them company and help look after their basic needs that day. Or let friends and other people you trust know in advance that they can call you in these kinds of situations, and that you’ll take a weapon away from them for as long as needed if they ask.

18

Organize a stoop or porch sale with a few other households, or even a regular stoop or porch sale, and use the funds to cover material needs for solidarity efforts, such as abortion or bail funds, or for gender-affirming surgery or aiding folks during a rent strike. Ask yourself: What time and materials could I easily donate that would have an exponential effect and allow me to meet and organize with friends and neighbors in my community? Rather than a personal responsibility or charity, fundraising becomes a way of building deeper networks of care and connection.

19

Engage in play with others as a gateway to imagining other worlds and experimenting with getting there while cultivating camaraderie and goodwill. Hold game nights. Invent your own versions of group “sports” such as capture the flag, tag, and soccer, and gather folks in a park to make riotously merry. Self-organize a queer Purim spiel or other DIY theatrics, and simply be silly (and/or use your performances to make fun of the social order and dream up ways it might tumble). Add playfulness to your banners, events, organizing, and actions.

20

Slow down. Heed Jewish wisdom: days and hours of rest are sacred. Heed disabled wisdom: your work is completely irrelevant to your worth! Your ancestors began weaving unfucked social fabrics and burning down fucked-up ones before you were a glimmer in their eye. Descendants to come will be weaving and unfucking and burning still. What can we even weave with only weak threads connecting us? Trust takes years. Any faster, and conflict rends our fabric like kri’ah, the Jewish ritual act of tearing cloth in mourning. So come fascism or liberation: weave slow, take sabbaticals, feast on kugel, and sing with your comrades down by the river.

NOTE

This zine is a communal effort, with advice gleaned from the following Jewish anarchists: alice, asher, cat, chanaleh, cindy, cindy barukh, hannah, jhaavo, lilli, mazel, scarab, simcha, and vicky.

“Don’t Just Do Nothing: 20 Things You Can Do to Counter Fascism — Yes, You! Yes, Now” is intended as inspiration for everyone who is striving toward a world without fascism — whether or not they’re Jewish or an anarchist. Please share this zine freely and widely.

body language | part II

Jess: My favorite part about writing this blog with you was when you spoke about how you view the United States. Admittedly, while coming from a selfish and privileged place, I haven’t found much to be proud about in the United States. I’m often embarrassed by the politics and deeply let down by the amount of bigotry and hate. And while these things still exist and there is work to dismantle these harmful institutions, you remind me where we are starting, which at its core is a nation that embraces and encourages cultural differences. Can you explain more how you’ve come to see the US in this light?

Wendy: One of the biggest benefits of being in the U.S., especially as someone who has experienced multiple cultures and traveled to many places, is how enriching it is to be part of a society that embraces cultural differences. Here, your cultural differences aren’t something you have to strip away to belong. In many other countries, like Japan or Scandinavian nations, there’s often an expectation to assimilate fully and give up parts of your cultural identity in order to be accepted and function within society. In contrast, the U.S. allows you to lean into your identity, and that diversity becomes a strength.

The U.S. was founded on the backbone of immigrants, and I think that’s reflected in how we evolve and thrive as a society. The cultural differences that each person brings weave into the fabric of what makes America unique. It’s a true melting pot, where different experiences and backgrounds enrich the collective culture. You can see it everywhere—in the variety of cuisines, the freedom to start a new business regardless of where you’re from, and the acceptance that what makes us different also makes us stronger.

Jess: We must acknowledge that people continue to experience microaggresions that do seek to encourage a white/heteronormative existence .. but it’s true that there has always been movement in the US to be proud of our cultures and heritages. In Chicago alone we can see how communities keep their individualities alive in different city neighborhoods. If you let yourself believe the narrative that we’ve been seeing with MAGA rising it can be easy to forget that progress and individuality do exist.

Wendy: Another thing I deeply appreciate about the U.S. is the freedom to express political differences. Even if we don’t agree with someone’s policies or perspective, we still have the ability to voice our opinions, debate, and find common ground. That’s a privilege not available in many other countries. For example, in China, speaking out against the government can result in severe consequences—you might be banned from platforms like WeChat or silenced entirely. There’s no opportunity for healthy debate or to understand another perspective.

In the U.S., the freedom to voice differences—whether cultural, political, or otherwise—is something that strengthens us. Ideally, it helps us evolve as a society without descending into division or conflict. This freedom to embrace and express differences is what makes the U.S. so special and unique compared to other places.

Jess: A very true (albeit tough pill to swallow given current climate) reminder. There is power in opinion, education and truth-sharing. We are fortunate to have the freedom to continue conversations without consequence is something we should never take for granted.

Jess: I think having ties to more than one culture is a superpower. How has having ties in both China and the US impacted who you are today?

Wendy: I definitely think that having two cultures is a superpower, but I don’t think many of my friends growing up necessarily felt that way. A lot of my Chinese friends rejected aspects of their culture—they didn’t want to eat Chinese food, speak Chinese to their parents, or celebrate cultural traditions. They wanted to assimilate into U.S. culture because they didn’t want to stand out or risk being made fun of.

Looking back, I really appreciate that my parents encouraged me to keep speaking Chinese at home and educated me about our traditions. They taught me why we make dumplings for New Year’s, why we celebrate certain festivals, and the meanings behind the foods we eat and the customs we follow. Through that, I became really curious about my Chinese roots and felt proud to stay connected to them.

This connection also kept me open-minded and accepting of others. Being part of a minority culture in the U.S. helped me relate to people who also didn’t fit into the mainstream, whether they were part of the LGBTQ+ community, had alternative interests, or held different beliefs. In high school, my friends and I bonded over those shared experiences of feeling ‘othered,’ and we supported each other. That openness really shaped who I am.

Growing up in the Midwest, first in Ohio and later going to college in Chicago, also played into this perspective. Being an Asian American in the Midwest is unique because there are so few of us. Regardless of whether someone is Chinese, Korean, Filipino, or Vietnamese, you naturally support each other because of the shared experience of being a minority.

I’ve noticed this dynamic is different on the coasts. In places like California or New York, where there’s a larger Asian population, there’s sometimes more division between different Asian ethnicities. In the Midwest, though, the small numbers make you feel more united. Being in that environment taught me the value of solidarity and allowed me to stay open-minded and connected to people from all backgrounds

Jess: I’m so grateful to you for sharing your experience. This whole conversation happened after we met in the studio for a 1:1 and we couldn’t even bring ourselves to dance. We sat and talked about the election and the impact we’d feel for years to come. Immigration is obviously a personal subject for you because it’s a lived experience, and I consider myself so lucky to get this insight so I can approach conversations with more empathy and context.

To end this piece (for now..) what would you like to leave readers with?

Wendy: My advice to families going through the immigration process now is to be patient, have hope, and stay as organized and detailed as possible—overly detailed, even. Gather more documentation than you think you might need, and trust in the process, even though it’s more complicated now than it may have been in the past. Many families have successfully gone through it, even in challenging times.

What I wish more people understood is that we’re living in an ever-changing society that is progressing and adapting faster than at any other point in human history. A lot of people who oppose immigration don’t realize how much of our societal advancements have been driven by cross-cultural and cross-country collaboration. If we had closed ourselves off to immigration 20 years ago, we wouldn’t have achieved many of the innovations we benefit from today.

The frustrating part is that there seems to be a lack of education around this. Many people don’t recognize that the conveniences and progress they enjoy now are the result of global collaboration and the blending of cultures and ideas. To assume that 'all immigration is bad immigration' ignores this reality.

What needs to change is the fear of change itself. Humans, as a species, have thrived because we’ve adapted. Change is not something to be afraid of—it’s how we evolve and survive. Unfortunately, it feels like society and government haven’t adapted as quickly as the pace of change around us. Instead of finding ways to embrace these shifts and build better systems, there’s often a tendency to retreat to the comfort of what we knew 20 years ago, trying to prevent change from happening.

But progress doesn’t slow down. The world continues to change faster and faster, and if the U.S. tries to hold on to outdated systems or resist change, we risk falling behind other countries that are more open to cultural differences, technological advancements, and societal evolution.

Immigration has always been a vital part of our progress, and embracing it—rather than fearing it—is the key to staying innovative and relevant in an ever-changing world.

body language | part I

I was fortunate to work in Chicago Public Schools while wear|haus was getting started. I say fortunate because the experiences I had, while trying at times, taught me more about the world today than any job I’ve ever had. Chicago is a sanctuary city, which means that the city will not ask about your immigration status, disclose this information to authorities and most importantly, won’t deny you City services based on status. It means our city provides a safe environment for the undocumented community through noncooperation and non-enforcement of federal anti-immigration policies. This includes schools, like the one I worked at which welcomed over 1,000 students seeking asylum last school year.

I remember growing close with a number of these students that year- and it was surprising as I didn’t speak Spanish and many had not yet learned English. One day in particular I was asked to read the students a book in Spanish and the kids laughed while I struggled to get through it – the book was about making tortillas and we eventually put the book down and spoke about our favorite kind of tacos while using google translate. It struck me that while we were able to use technology to understand each other, what made us close was our proximity. We sat close, I offered an un-ending amount of hugs, the kids passed books and drawings to each other. It was our body language and acceptance of one another in a new environment that created the bond.

I shared this experience with haustler Wendy. Wendy herself immigrated to the US with her family back in 1998. She was just about to start first grade and had moved from a small city in northeast China (six million people or so) to Auburn, Alabama.

Jess: You were very young when you moved, but do you remember your experience at school?

Wendy: I remember parts of school, I remember having to go to ESL which was difficult for me because the teacher only assisted the Spanish speaking students with Spanish to English translation. My first language was Mandarin so I couldn’t understand most of the spoken language.

Jess: So how did you learn English?

Wendy: I think what helped me the most during my time learning English was actually my first-grade teacher, Mrs. Freeman, who was also my second-grade teacher. She was incredibly patient and kind. She made a big effort to use body language to help me understand what she was saying.
For example, we had story time in class, and I didn’t know what was being said, but I would watch the other kids. When they laughed, I would laugh too—just to fit in and feel part of the group. It was more about assimilating to the culture than fully grasping the language at first.

At home, my parents continued speaking Chinese to me, which kept me connected to my heritage. At the same time, they trusted the school environment and my peers to teach me English naturally. That balance made a big difference in helping me adapt.

 Jess: I love that she used body language as a tool to help you learn. As a dance teacher I constantly witness people respond to movement on a deep level. It opens up another form of communication and in a lot of ways, like with you as a kid and the students I worked with, it creates closeness.

Jess: Many of us (myself included) don’t know what the process of becoming a US citizen entails. Can you tell us what was required in the immigration process?

Wendy: In the U.S. at the time, the immigration process required that you live in the country for five years before you could officially apply for permanent residency, which is essentially a green card. A green card allows you to stay in the U.S. without needing to continuously apply for or maintain a visa.

During those five years, you had to collect and provide a lot of materials to prove your residency and demonstrate that you intended to stay long-term. This included showing documentation of where you worked, where you lived, and even bills you paid on time—essentially anything that confirmed your stability and commitment to remaining in the country.

For my parents, I think the process was somewhat easier because the U.S. was actively seeking outside talent, especially individuals with advanced degrees. If you had a master’s degree or higher, it was easier to prove that you were bringing valuable expertise into the country rather than taking jobs away from average citizens. Both of my parents had master’s degrees in material science engineering, which helped their case significantly.

During this time, we also met with lawyers to ensure we had all the proper documents and that we were following every requirement. A lot of what we knew about the process came from mutual friends and connections who had gone through it before, which was incredibly helpful. We were very fortunate to have that network of support guiding us through what can be a really complicated process.

Jess: And you’ve shared that your family’s experience was impacted by 9/11?

Wendy: The process for us to get permanent residency took much longer than usual. Even though the application itself was supposed to move forward after five years, it ended up taking eight years after we moved to the U.S. We were eligible to apply in 2003, but 9/11 happened in 2001, and that changed everything. The additional layers of security that were introduced slowed everything down significantly. There was a lot more scrutiny to ensure that people applying for residency were properly vetted.

I think we were fortunate in some ways because we weren’t part of the racial or ethnic group that Americans associated with terrorism at the time. For others who faced racial profiling due to their background, the process became even more difficult and drawn out. For us, the delays were more procedural—just the sheer increase in security measures added even more complications to an already convoluted system.

Jess: And after all this time one of the final steps was a citizenship test, correct? When it came to the test you had to take, how did you and your family study?

Wendy: My dad studied for his citizenship test during my senior year of high school, which, coincidentally, was the same year I was taking an AP Government class. It was funny how much overlap there was between what he was studying and what I was learning in class. The question bank he was working from had about a hundred questions, and a lot of them were the same topics we were covering in school.

I remember helping him prepare by coaching him on questions like, 'Who was our third president?' or 'What’s in the Constitution?' We even went over things like the Fourth and Sixth Amendments. These were all things he needed to know to pass his test, and I was learning them at the same time in school. It was a unique experience to be able to help him study and see that connection between what he was doing to become a citizen and what I was learning about the foundations of the country.

Jess: It’s incredible to hear this experience and think of how I took all of this for granted. To hear the ways in which you felt fortunate throughout a very lengthy and stressful process is humbling. And once again, the theme of community being a guide and source of comfort shows the power in what we can build when we invest in ourselves and our neighbors.

Coming up: body language Part II ...

"What I wish more people understood is that we’re living in an ever-changing society that is progressing and adapting faster than at any other point in human history. A lot of people who oppose immigration don’t realize how much of our societal advancements have been driven by cross-cultural and cross-country collaboration...The frustrating part is that there seems to be a lack of education around this. Many people don’t recognize that the conveniences and progress they enjoy now are the result of global collaboration and the blending of cultures and ideas. To assume that 'all immigration is bad immigration' ignores this reality."

self-advocacy

Jess: So far on this journey of movement reclamation I’ve learned that there isn’t a single part of me that doesn’t need a little bit of this reclaiming. In finding pathways to freely move and exist in my most authentic way I am having to advocate for myself a lot. The work is not just in finding your spaces- but recognizing your worth and value outside of these spaces and demanding you are seen and respected. One such place, which will be no surprise to anyone that reads this blog, is your doctors office. I am still working on advocating for myself here. It takes work to let a professional know- “hey something feels off” .. and to keep doing so even when repeatedly met with dismissiveness. Admittedly I seek reassurance from people closest to me before I take my needs anywhere else – I find ways to build my confidence before I have to go and advocate. It’s a practice of self-care in a way!

Through my work at the haus I am always meeting haustlers that have found a way to advocate for their physical and mental well-being. It is a true tribute to how both community and movement keep us healthy. And one such story came from haustler Julie Young! I remember tteaching class one weekend when Julie told me that she believed the classes she had started taking at the haus could have played a role in improving her bone density numbers and that got us to talking..

Jess: For those of us that don’t know what Celiac Disease is, can you fill us in?

Julie: Celiac Disease is an autoimmune disease triggered by eating gluten and it can cause damage to the small intestine. There are a lot of potential side effects to that damage, including nutrient deficiencies, developing other autoimmune diseases, etc

Jess: When did you first learn you had Celiac?

Julie: I was diagnosed back in January 2021. There are a lot of possible associated symptoms and side effects and in my case, I have some bone density loss, aka osteopenia. Since it’s not as severe as osteoporosis, my doctors recommended treating with daily calcium supplements, as well as increased weight-bearing exercises.

Jess: And that doctor recommendation is one of the reasons you started coming to group fitness classes?

Julie: Before coming to wear|haus, I was mostly an at-home mover. I had one brief stint doing boxing lessons when I lived in Ohio, which I enjoyed, but I never felt fully comfortable there. I made the jump to try in-person classes again after my doctor suggested increasing my exercise to improve my bone density. And once I started coming to wear|haus, I never stopped!

Jess: I am so grateful you haven’t!! Have these fitness classes helped?

Julie: Before coming to the haus, I had an initial bone density scan to determine where I was at, which is when my osteopenia was diagnosed. I had another scan in February of this year, which I think was about 5 months after I started attending classes. While I still have osteopenia, my numbers have improved! It was a huge relief to feel like as much as CD has been out of my control, I was able to make a change and positively impact my health.

Jess: What an amazing tribute to the stand you took for yourself and your health. You are truly showing up for yourself. How was it that you first noticed a change to your heath and how did you go about seeking hep?

Julie: There are over 250 known symptoms of Celiac Disease, so for a while I just thought I was lactose intolerant and had a sensitive stomach. Back in the fall of 2020, I was getting a routine physical and my doctor found that my B12 was incredibly low, so he ordered more bloodwork to see if it could be pernicious anemia or CD. At that point we ruled out anemia, so I had an upper endoscopy and biopsy of my small intestine to confirm it was Celiac. The only treatment at this time is to cut out all gluten, so I’m entirely gluten free (including things you may not think about like lipstick)!

While I was very lucky that my process only took a few months to reach a diagnosis (many with CD could take years to find answers) I ran into issues shortly after.

The hospital-referred dietitian didn’t understand the nuances of CD, so I had to seek out my own Celiac-specialist registered dietitian to help me understand what I could/should/need to eat. My diagnosing GI abruptly moved states and I had to find a new doctor who understood Celiac and could further guide me. I also fought two GPs on getting a bone density scan (they said I was too young to have bone density issues, despite the correlation with CD), until I found my new GI doctor who completely understood and ordered the test for me.

Jess: That is a whole lot of self-advocacy. How did you stick with it?

Julie: Community is everything! I felt very lucky that when I was diagnosed with Celiac Disease, my sister’s childhood friend reached out to offer support. She had been living with Celiac for about 10 years at that point and had so much advice that she shared freely with me. Conversations with her really helped me work through the initial shock and grief of my diagnosis. She also became a good barometer as I navigated post-diagnosis medical care (Do you get your bone density checked? What blood tests do you run at your physical? How often do you see your GI?).

The other biggest helper is really just time. You get more used to advocating for yourself when you’re constantly practicing. You also start to forget what all the yummy gluten-filled things taste like or you find substitutes that taste just as good, so you don’t miss the “real thing” as much.

Jess: I think that the advice and experience you have provided goes beyond just someone with CD. What advice would you like to share to any woman who has anything going on that is affecting their health physically or mentally?

Julie: Number one, trust your intuition. If something feels off, do you research, talk to others experiencing the same thing, and gather all the evidence you can. 

After that, do what you need to do to get help and don’t feel bad if you become a nuisance. Keep calling, sending messages, asking questions, and speaking up. Ask for help when and where you can, whether that’s recommendations from trusted doctors or having someone accompany you to appointments to witness or support you if you hit roadblocks.

movement reclamation + the art of struggle

Jess: You and I sat down in the studio a little while ago talked about fitness and your journey with movement! You actually told me the phrase, “In My Movement Reclamation Era!” What was it that you realized about movement that wasn’t sitting right with you before you chose to reclaim it?

Katie: I think for people, especially for women, when we’re little girls we move for enjoyment—to climb a tree, to dance, to play at recess, to pretend we’re mermaids in a pool. Movement is play. Movement is silly.  But, somewhere in the process of growing up in our society, that shifts.  We are told that the purpose of movement to stay skinny, to make ourselves smaller. Instead of riding a bike with a friend to get ice cream, we’re at the gym miserable on a treadmill to get that ice cream “guilt free.” Movement becomes a punishment almost.

Jess: How long would you say you stayed away from movement?

Katie: From 18 to 28—so about 10 years. I think it took me so long because I was looking at movement in such a linear way. I thought acceptable adult movement was going to the gym and doing cardio or running a marathon. Which never were for me, at all.  I don’t think it clicked I could do the things I loved as a kid as an adult—dance, barre, laser tag.

When I realized movement could be anything I wanted that it clicked and I was able to reclaim it.

Jess: When was it you decided to move more for yourself?

Katie: About two years ago now! I started strength-training at a gym in MKE (shout-out to Tiana) ! I wish I could say I started doing it for the “right” reasons, but truthfully I wasn’t. But, what I learned there was that in weight training it was GOOD to take up space. And I liked it. I liked the power that came from lifting heavy. It made me feel strong and badass. That initial session is what kicked off my transformation and after that I was going to workout classes, dance classes— things I never thought I would.  

Jess: We’ve also talked about how anxiety impacts us being able to get to the studio! What do you have to tell yourself to mentally prepare to be in the studio? 

Katie: As someone who is working on unlearning perfectionism and who gets really uncomfortable in the “unknown”, I had to tell myself that it would be okay if I wasn’t perfect. And that was hard. I also had to be gentle with myself—reminding myself that I hadn’t danced since high school and I wouldn’t be as “good” and that was OK, that was normal.

After that first session, the mental preparation is so much easier. Your positivity and high-energy (which unclear how you do that, sis) made me feel SO SAFE. I don’t know if you noticed but at the start if I got lost, I’d try to like “hide it” but now I’m 100% okay being like “wait, I cannot get that. Let’s go back.” Which is a great skill in life too, right? Like we don’t have to be perfect, we can struggle.

Jess: We don’t have to be perfect, we CAN struggle! So important and so impactful because another tool of patriarchy is perfectionism- which absolutely no one can attain! And if you can’t attain it, why attempt it.. another way we can be paralyzed and stuck. The haus is all about meeting yourself where you are at and finding joy in movement. That is empowering because it is an act of rebellion.

Jess: Speaking of rebellion, I find you incredibly rebellious! You challenge yourself, you work in a male-dominated cooperate field and are constantly claiming your space in those areas AND you write stories (a novel* cough cough) about strong and very real female lead characters. All of this, if you will, are acts of reclaiming movement..

What are other places in our lives you think we can reclaim movement outside of fitness?

Katie: I think we can re-claim movement everywhere, it’s whenever we flip the script—it’s doing things for you, not for societal expectations or the patriarchy.

When we stop making something a bullet on a list, and make it peaceful. Eating, for example we can reclaim our movement in. Instead of rushing through a meal to go back to work, standing at your desk typing an email, you reclaim it when you eat slowly—enjoying the flavor and savoring what food is doing for you.

 When you go spend time with a friend, just talking when you “should be” cleaning or working. Honestly, it’s all about centering joy and personhood.

 I say I Reclaimed Movement because I am longer moving for society, I’m not moving to punish myself, or to stay a weight society deems socially acceptable. Rather, I’m moving for ME, for my joy, for my peace, for my clarity. For how it makes my body feel. I’m moving for senior citizen Katie and so she can walk up the stairs in Santorini when she’s retired, I’m moving for 8-year-old Katie who was happiest when on stage, I’m moving for 40-year-old me. I think that can be radical in a society, to use movement to take up more space, to be louder, to demand more.

Great Buildings

In the pandemic wear|haus started a segment called ‘haustler highlight.’ The segment was a way stay connected as a community and learn more about who we all were in and out of the haus. I remember one of my sisters commenting after the third or fourth haustler interview asking “does anyone normal go to wear|haus??”

It’s true. Just a few of the haustlers highlighted were bakers, painters, musicians, advocates + change makers, designers…all in their spare time!

The people I meet every day continue to blow me away with their work in and outside of the studio, so this month I wanted to sit down with one such haustler and ask about her work in Chicago and her latest achievement- co-writing a book (casual)!

Jess: What is your job. What’s your role? What does Alissa do?

Alissa: For almost 15 years I've worked at Studio Gang, an architecture and urban design firm led by Jeanne Gang. In line with Jeanne's interests, our office has a strong academic/intellectual side--so in addition to designing and constructing buildings, we also pursue our own research and writing projects, and create books and exhibitions. Those are the projects I lead as Principal of Publications and Exhibitions. My team and I also work directly with our design teams to help communicate their work and concepts. (Architects are experts at thinking and creating spatially, but they're not always the best at verbally explaining things.) It's hard, fun, and endlessly interesting to try to translate architectural ideas into words.

Jess: What is your crowning achievement (so far) in your current job?

Alissa: I've been able to work on so many cool projects, it's tough to pick a favorite. There are also a lot of amazing and unexpected people, ideas, experiences brought into my life because of my job. (Including my husband Chris!) It feels like a flowing stream of work and life that's carrying me along. And I like not knowing exactly where it's going next.

One project that was really important for me is Stone Stories, a research and exhibition project that was part of the International Venice Architecture Biennale in 2018. It examined the history of a cobblestone river landing in Memphis, Tennessee, during a time when the city had just taken down two Confederate monuments--also made of stone--from its public parks. We did a lot of community interviews as part of the project, to understand how people were feeling and to learn more about the different ways they were using their unique talents to make positive change in Memphis. We transformed nine of the cobblestones to reflect each of the nine people we spoke with; we also brought 800 plain cobblestones to Venice, so exhibition visitors could walk on this mini-landing and reflect on the meaning of this place and how it could become a renewed, inclusive public space in Memphis. How could the stones take on a new history? I learned so much doing this project and I will never forget the experience of meeting these nine people and trying to do justice to their stories and their city on a world stage.

Jess: What’s the name of this book and what is it about?

Alissa: Jeanne's new book, which just came out this spring, is The Art of Architectural Grafting. It draws on the horticultural practice of grafting--where you attach a new plant to an older one so they can grow as one, with desired characteristics--to propose a new architectural concept for adding on to existing buildings. It sounds very specific, and it is! But I promise it's interesting, even if you're not an architect. I helped Jeanne with a lot of the research about horticultural grafting, which is an ancient and super fascinating practice.

Jess: Why write the book? Who do you hope it reaches and what impact do you hope it has?

Alissa: Architecture is facing a huge, urgent challenge right now, just like every industry, to radically reduce its carbon footprint. The book's main goal is to share this intriguing "grafting" concept--a creative spark--that makes architects feel energized and inspired to take on more projects that reuse, adapt, and add on to existing buildings. This is critical environmentally, because improving and keeping in use the buildings we already have saves so much carbon (50-75% in fact!) compared to demolishing and building new. I think non-architects will be interested in the book, too, because it's written in a very accessible way and ties in many different fields. Jeanne also sprinkles in some personal reflections that help explain why she cares about these issues, and how she understands the relationship of nature and architecture.

Jess: Why should we care about sustainability and architecture? 

Alissa: Architecture is part of the fabric of our daily lives. It affects our human experience and well-being, whether we notice it or not. And great buildings can bring us together, light us up and make us think and feel differently about what's possible. "Sustainability" is such a bland word, but I like to think about it as a group project of letting go of all the extraneous junk we've built up around us, so we can come into closer relationship with each other and the incredible planet where we're just one species. It's the change we have to make if we want to keep existing here. 

UpCycle Purpose

  I often use the phrase we all have our strengths. And while I do consider myself a creative, I know my creativity has limits. That limit is working with my hands in most capacities. I can’t cook. I can’t bake. I tried a DIY home-craft in COVID and hated every moment of the sanding and painting and screwing tiny pieces together. One would think years of having to sew my own pointe shoes would’ve given me some ability to fix things with a quick stitch- but one would be wildly mistaken.

  When I met Cayci one of the first things I remember was complimenting a bag she was holding. Then she told me she made it and I was dumbstruck. Imagine my jealousy when she walked into the haus wearing a jean jacket she’d also made. Cayci’s strength and skill is unmatched and I’m so glad I asked her story.

Cayci: I think it was the blanket coat I made! It was originally a classic woven throw blanket of an apple orchard that I turned into a lil cutie apple coat! 

 Jess: How did PACE come about?

 Cayci: For me, this breaks down in two parts. Part 1: the sewing and Part 2: the naming. 

 1: I learned to sew when I was little, about 10. I remained creative throughout my teens years but never personally invested in a sewing machine and sort of forgot about it. In 2018 I asked for a sewing machine for Christmas to see if I still had the itch. (spoiler: I very much still did) I made scrunchies and took it slow. Then 2020 hit and, like many of us, I found myself questioning everything. In my newly found free time and with a new sense of purpose behind the machine, I started cranking out masks. (so...many...masks!) This gave me enough confidence in my skillset to start branching into other things.  

2: The naming came naturally to me. For as long as I can remember I’ve carried an internal weight (looking at you anxiety). But as a child I didn’t know that this weight had an explanation. I just searched for ways to counter it.  A safe space for me has always been on the edges of an old rug in my grandma's house. I would pace the rug to calm my mind — recenter. And when I picked sewing back up I felt that same feeling again... a recentering. A way to dim everything else and a focus on the present -- a focus on the process. It had to be PACE. 

 Jess: The word center has always had a deep meaning for me. A company I was a part of for years was called ‘Off Center.’ We made work about being a little left of center, of challenging the norm and trying to rewrite a heteronormative script. I love the idea that art can center all of us- it can ground us personally or bring people together for a collective understanding. Finding an outlet like dancing or sewing can grant us the space to get clear and center and repurpose.

Jess: Speaking of repurpose, you “up-cycle” material?

 Cayci: I feel proud to use mostly all repurposed materials. I absolutely love thrifting and being able to thrift with a focus is magic to me. Plus, there are far too many textiles ending up in landfills. It's always such a joy to come across a beautiful fabric/garment/blanket/you-name-it and see the potential for it to live on as something else! 

Jess: For those readers like me who couldn’t imagine being able to create with their bare hands- how do you think we can find a creative outlet?

Cayci: Honestly for me, it was going back to my roots. Sewing was something I did as a kid and it felt cozy to me. My advice would be: don't try to force a brand new thing that seems scary and overwhelming. Start with something you already (or used to) find joy in. It most certainly does not need to be creative! Did you love climbing trees as a kid? Okay well get your booty into the forest more often. 

It’s also about community. Find someone else who shares a similar interest and at the very least talk to them about it. If you're feeling brave, do the hobby together. I found myself massively inspired after craft nights with friends where we all work on something different, but in each other's company. 

Jess: You know I love community. Community means growth and support and empowerment. It gives us the confidence to practice a craft and the comradery to feel safe to succeed and fail. And when we allow ourselves that judgement-free space we can find so much strength in ourselves. It seems like PACE gives you inner-strength.

Jess: What do you want to leave your community with?

Cayci: The important part is doing something you love and enjoying the process. The process of sewing itself is really special to me; it feels like therapy. Find your special thing! Don't be afraid to trust your experiences and see where they lead you. Pick something back up even when you feel shame that you haven't kept up with it. Don't let the shame win! It's about reclaiming confidence when your tank is empty. It's about knowing when to start something new and when to put that shit down. It's about finding systems that work for you. It's really about choosing yourself. 

in my movement reclamation era…

A friend mentioned this idea of reclaiming movement. She spoke to how she’s found a freedom and joy in movement again, after years of denying herself the joy. 

We talked about how women are often positioned to work out because we want to be thin. And it becomes another chore, something that is expected of us. Another thing to add to our laundry list of impossible stereotypes to fit an image of what we should be.

And she said how special the haus is because it’s the first place she’s felt safe to find her own reasons to move. That’s when she said she’s in her ‘ reclaiming movement era ‘

While we have many missions at the haus- I realized she hit on one. This idea of reclaiming movement. Of reclaiming space. 

If we are all honest with ourselves - there was a moment along our life journey where we fully recognize what our role is supposed to be in this system (yes I’m referring to the patriarchy). For me I was in third grade. And I was bullied a lot. I had a desk mate named Chris. He used to bully me while we were supposed to be doing work. He would hit my arm, try to stab me with pencils and even move the paper I was writing on away from me. I talked to my mom. And she told me to stand up to bullies. And I told my teacher. In the middle of class, she asked me to get up, pick up my desk and move it across the room. Then she looked me dead in the eye and said condescendingly: is that better Jessica?

That was the moment I learned shame. And that was when I learned how much space I was allowed to take up. 

For some of us it’s third grade, others it’s college or in their professional career - but we’ve all felt that moment when we are put in our place by someone who assumes they know our place.

After that day in class.. I recognized every time I asked for too much. Every time I was too loud. And every time I was the problem. 

I was lucky to find dance in high school, because that was when I first reclaimed movement. I recognize now that movement allowed me to be as loud and dramatic as I wanted. I got to say the things in dance I felt. I got to say the things I couldn’t say in other spaces. And it empowered me. 

After years of working in a bunch of places— I’ve had MANY. jobs. I had a gut feeling, that i was not the only one who had more to say and more to feel and more to be .. and I couldn’t be the only one missing a place to feel safe to explore this notion. Without knowing  how it might pan out, this space and idea deserved a chance.

Five years later and the haustlers i see and the stories I share .. I celebrate that together we’ve made this space a reality. The haus is successful because each person that shows up allows themselves the space to be authentically them. 

Haustlers allow themselves to take space, allow themselves to get strong and allow themselves to be confident. We allow ourselves to be loud!! I allow myself to be too much!

It’s been so motivating and inspiring to facilitate a space that we feel safe to take time for ourselves in. That we feel safe exist for exactly who we are.

I look forward to continuing this mission of reclaiming movement and I hope we can inspire many more women to join us.

what | if (continued)

what | if

I retired four years ago – and still find myself needing to make dance fit into my life. I can’t exist without moving and have come across many people that thrive once they find an environment they can move freely in. I’ve also come across people who connect to what we do at wear|haus because they’ve found a piece of themselves they’ve left behind. Lots of former, retired and recreational dancers show up and are reminded of something they felt when they used to dance... and it begs the question- why is it so hard to find these spaces as we get older? Student Allison Kelley and I have been exploring the question: Why do we give up on the idea of dancing?

Jess: What was your experience dancing when younger versus as you started getting older. Did anything change about the expectations you had or others had for you?

Allison: Dance was really joyful and made me feel good about myself in the beginning. I stood out and was elevated to a competition team. I loved being a company member and everything that went with it. My dance studio suddenly closed when I was 12 and it was devastating. I didn't like the new company I joined. I was placed in a group with older girls and everyone was so much better than me. A friend I followed to the new company was improving at a much faster rate than I was. For the first time, I felt like I wasn't a good dancer and really started to compare myself to others. My body was changing, I gained weight over the summer before I joined the new company and suddenly dance wasn't as joyful and left me feeling insecure and bad about myself. I wanted to be praised again or at the very least not seen as the worst dancer. I started losing a lot of weight, used critical self-talk for motivation and fretted about what this meant for my future, my dreams, the career I planned on having. Gradually, I improved a lot. That along with the weight loss garnered me more praise, better placements in dances, more awards, more confidence. To maintain this weight loss and praise, an exhausting cycle of disordered eating, overexertion and perfectionism was born. My new normal was happy+thin+talented and miserable+exhausted+critical all at once. So for the rest of my dance "career" it was a mixture of highs and lows, joy and sadness. I equated all this with dance and so it was a relief and a disappointment to leave it all behind.

Jess: You had said you were disappointed in yourself for not realizing your dream…do you still feel that way or can you commend your 18 year old self for working hard and stepping away from something that wasn’t serving you in the moment?

Allison: I'll always be disappointed. It's hard to walk away from a dream or to admit to yourself that you aren't good enough. When I see a show now, I'll think to myself "I think I could've done it but I'll never know because I didn't try." There is some regret but when I consider how my life turned out, I think it was the best choice considering my issues. I had a lot of healing to do which I'm not sure would've been possible if I continued with dance/performance. While it's still mixed feelings, yes, I can commend myself for taking a pragmatic approach that ultimately served me well.

Jess: So with all the hurt, rejection and pressures you faced – why is it that you had this dream to dance?

Allison: It was my life and my identity. Being on stage was everything. Even though it was mixed with the hurt, in the moment it's the most joyful, cathartic thing you'll ever experience. It's like your quote says "single fleeting moment when you feel alive." A dance is fleeting, typically 2.5 minutes. A dance career probably has the shortest lifespan of all careers. Because it's short, it's special, it's rare, it's a gift your body won't always be able to provide. There is nothing else like it.

Jess: I can say with certainty, that I don’t think everyone was meant to make a career out of their childhood dream or hobby…but I also don’t believe we have to make our dreams our whole entire lives OR give up on dreams just because they don’t become all of who we are. By that I mean, we should continue to evolve and keep the things that fill us somewhere among us. We should still treat dance and our dance family as a pivotal part of who we are, our routine, and our livelihood. The women who I see showing up to our workout classes feel a familiar joy/release/catharsis from the work we do in our space. I can see that making it a priority in their own way is giving them small pieces of purpose and connection that I think we otherwise lose out on when we don’t prioritize our needs. On that idea… how do you think people will relate to this topic? If someone is not a dancer, why would or should they care about it?

Allison: I think the bigger theme here is about letting go of dreams. I'd like to think everyone has some sort of dream or idea of what they could be when they're growing up. When you're young, you have a lifetime of possibility in front of you. It affords you the opportunity to dream and indulge in possibilities that aren't commonplace. Most of us don't realize all our dreams and that's OK. It's important to have dreams but it's also very important to mourn the loss of a dream once you've made the decision to take another path. Having appreciation for the dream or the former life is imperative. Examining the good things you have in your present life, expressing gratitude and accepting the path you're on all help with mourning the loss. I don't think the goal is to completely get over it. It's OK to still be sad that a dream didn't work out or feel disappointed or wonder "What if?" The important thing is to not run away from something that gives you joy, even if that something (dance for me) takes a different form and doesn't match what the initial aspiration was.

Jess: I’m fortunate enough to work in a space where I see clients picking up these pieces they’ve left behind every day. Movement unlocks something in a lot of us – it gives us permission to move freely, flail with confidence, be silly, let go of judgement and just be. Perhaps it can be a start of healing journey and give us all space to examine what we’ve let go of, find appreciation for where we’ve ended up & continually take space to indulge.

what | if

w h a t | i f

wear|haus chi x Allison Kelley

“You have to love dancing to stick to it. It gives you nothing back, no manuscripts to store away, no paintings to show on walls and maybe hang in museums, no poems to be printed and sold, nothing but that single fleeting moment when you feel alive.”

― Merce Cunningham

As a professional dancer, this quote both inspired and pained me. It served as inspiration to keep going and sometimes it shamed me for feeling anything but grateful for “what I signed up for.” Looking back, it was silly of me to shame myself for wanting validation in something I worked so hard at. But it's true, dance is fleeting and for many it is a dream left unrealized.

I was fortunate enough to have the privilege and support to pursue a career in dance, but I can’t say it was always looked at as a worthy career. I often felt people scoff at the thought of pursuing a career in art. It left me questioning the validity of chasing a dream. While I gave up a lot to chase that dream (financial stability, a normal social life, good health insurance, just to name a few trivial things...) I always felt lucky to be doing something that filled me. I thought that maybe those that judged me were upset that they compromised. Which leads me to question why we ever let go of things that fill us. There seems to be a point where we collectively agree certain things are just dreams and not meant to be kept or pursued further. Does this come from some innate sense of ‘knowing’ or is it pressured on us? We can’t deny that living in a capitalist society shapes our perspective of what success is. It primarily revolves around acquiring a certain amount of wealth and stability. But does that image have to deny the things that fill us in other ways?  

wear|haus tends to attract former dancers. One such student is Allison Kelley who wanted to be a part of the haus blog for this very topic. After being hesitant of dance-fitness for fear of not being the same dancer she once was, we lured her in by proudly proclaiming you are “free to flail” here. Much of the success found at the wear|haus is due to meeting yourself where you are at- and we are certainly glad Allison did. Not only have we met a new dancer, we were able to dive deep into a deeply uncomfortable subject and meet each other in our new phases.

Jess: So, your adolescent dream, or your dream as a kid was to be a professional dancer?

Allison: Yes! I started dance (late, some would say) in 4th grade, at 9 years old. I was obsessed with the idea of moving to NYC and going on Broadway, or maybe even becoming a ballerina with NYC Ballet.

 Jess: And you stopped dancing just before college, because you started experiencing rejection?

Allison: I officially stopped dancing at 18, before I left for college. After doing lots of auditions for musical theater programs and getting rejected from my top choice school, I interpreted the rejection as a sign that it wasn't meant to be. I thought about what it would be like to go on auditions for the rest of my life and started feeling like I didn't have the energy. The idea of living in uncertainty caused me anxiety. I worried that regularly experiencing a rejection might not be good for my mental health. Body image and pressures to maintain a certain weight/physique were wearing on me as well.

Jess: I want to take a moment and validate that this is a very relatable situation. I think many of us have experienced a rejection. But I also want to validate the very real experience that not everyone has faced: which is a performance rejection. Getting a ‘no’ or being cut mid-audition, is not for the faint of heart. It is a whole different kind of rejection. You put your whole self out there –  you work and prepare for years to show up for someone to say no. They’re looking at your body, your resume, your hair, your outfit, and your talent and not accounting for the years of work behind the visual.

Allison: Great point. The performance rejection is so personal because it's mostly subjective. It's not a race where there is a clear winner. Even if you do really well, to the best of your ability, it may not be enough/not what they're looking for. How do you rectify that? If you fall out of a turn, then it's understandable why you were rejected. You can own the "I messed up." If you did a great job and it still wasn't good enough, you're left feeling helpless and less than. It probably would've helped me to have the perspective of "I'm just not what they're looking for but I'm still talented." My perspective was "I'm not good enough, I'll never be as good as that girl, I'll never look like that." If the negativity of my perspective wasn't countered by a win and praise, it was a downward spiral.

Jess: I commend you for stepping away, as hard as it must have been. It’s asinine to think a 17 year old can maintain self-confidence in that environment. What do you miss most about dancing?

Allison: I'm tearing up even contemplating this question. I miss being on stage. I miss the ritual of makeup/hair/costume packing/checklists before a performance. I miss the closeness of my relationships with fellow dancers (backstage, in class, choreography competitions at sleepovers). I miss the hope I had, the dream that I could live the life of a dancer/performer and do something very few people get to do. The hope gave me a drive and determination that I think you can only possess when there is so much unknown life ahead of you.

Jess: To miss the hope you had of a dream that you could only possess within the unkown. Perhaps in that is the reason we leave so much behind? We come to an age where we see a path forward, a clear image of a path and a life it can create, and suddenly we are more comfortable with the known than that magical unkown we allowed ourselves to thrive when we are young. And it takes work to make any vision come to fruition- and in that work we leave those pieces behind. But maybe what we’ve come to realize through part one of this blog, is that you can pick those pieces back up along the way?

self | talk

self | talk

Let’s talk about self-talk. I read recently that positive self-talk comes naturally to most people. Yes, you read that right. Positive self-talk comes naturally to most people. Cue the ominous background music that plays rent-free in my mind 24/7 because I must be doing something else wrong. Let me be honest, I googled “self-talk” fully expecting the internet to not only be riding along on this bandwagon of critical deprecation but also swapping their own war stories. I thought I’d find a corner of women laughing about how mean we can be to ourselves, sharing the scary truth of the dialogue that plays in their heads, all of us aware that we’d never consider this a “healthy mindset,” but knowing full-well that it just cannot be helped, it comes naturally, and yes we are working on it but it is instinct!!

I found my perspective wasn’t easy to find. Once again, it seemed a big part of my everyday experience was shoved into pockets and hidden behind “how-to’s”. It didn’t seem to be a genuine discussion. So, needless to say I stopped reading that article as it was clearly written by a man and instead turned to long-time friend + collaborator Natalie for some honest conversation. Because self-talk happens, and more often than not, critical self-talk happens.

The real reason I wanted to start this blog with this subject? Well, you all. Everyday my clients, my friends, find themselves back here doing squats, kicks, planks + shimmies in front of a mirror. We all come back. And I am always hearing a familiar mumbling: I saw myself in the mirror and…, I said the dumbest thing.., I can be such an idiot…, I need to get my butt back to class because.. Even asking Natalie to be a part of the blog, her first response was Do people really want to hear from me.

I asked Natalie a really hard question: by the bluntest and most generalized standards shaped by societal opinions, how would you define yourself by what you see? How do you think the world sees you really? And when we actually take a second to break down the most critical way we view ourselves and come to terms with how others see us or DON’T see us…then what are we doing! Why are we adding to this critique and how do we work on bettering it?

Duke: First of all, it's difficult for me to believe that positive self-talk comes naturally to most people. Every single close friendship I have ever had - and most of those friendships (the good ones anyway) are with women - involve some version of one tearing themself down while the other tries desperately to build them back up.

Jess: Well that’s sad! I want to believe that we can be kind to ourselves…and that somewhere out there someone has mastered the art and is only building themselves up! 

Duke: Maybe those people do exist, but I bet it's more complicated. Like, maybe most people can speak positively to themselves...after they've been mean to themselves. And hey, that's something! I do remember a recent private training session (literally today's) where I actually called myself a dumb bitch out loud. I said it jokingly! But then I said something like, "I MEAN...I'm not a dumb bitch. I'm a perfectly pleasant person and fairly smart!" And it cancelled it out! Then I said, "oh hey! Maybe we should put that in the blog! And here I am, following through, very much NOT like a dumb bitch, thank you very much! 

Sidenote*

Jess: I met Natalie back when I was free-lance teaching at different dance studios in Chicago. I remember the first time I met her- I’m pretty sure her response to my welcome was, “Wow…” and a look of concern for my well-being. She was reserved but over time came out of her shell by revealing her dark humor. She tried to quit on me and leave the studio but I wouldn’t let her. 

Duke: Okay, that's partly true. I wouldn't say I was concerned for her well-being, but I was definitely thrown by Jess's energy. I know I can seem outgoing sometimes, but I am actually painfully introverted. Her energy was confusing to me. I don't think I had ever seen someone so genuinely excited about what they were doing. "Genuinely" being the key word here. I have taken plenty of other fitness classes where the instructor had a lot of energy and a constant smile, but it always felt forced. It's not forced with Jess. She really is that excited to be dancing and moving and sharing her passion with other people. So yes, as I have admitted to her more recently, I was definitely thrown by her intensity (and volume level) in the beginning, but in all honesty, I need that. I am a dry, black humor type of person on my best days and a pessimistic nihilist on my worst, so if anyone is going to get me excited to dance to three Dua Lipa songs in a row, they gotta truly pull me out of my doldrums. Jess does that. 

Also, I didn't WANT to quit on her. I started taking classes on a Groupon. Remember those?? That's how old I am long I have been dancing with Jess. The Groupon was a deal for 12 classes or something like that, and it ran out. So I went to Jess at the end of class and told her it was my last class and she GASPED and said very sternly, "No!" Not like, "oh no I don't want you to leave" but like, "No. Absolutely not. I will not accept this thing you are telling me." and I laughed and told her I didn't want it to be my last class but I couldn't afford the membership. So she got all conspiratorially quiet and said, "This is what you're gonna do..." and proceeded to explicitly lay out all the necessary steps I needed to take to get a discounted membership. It was not a suggestion. It was a command. So I listened to Mom and did what I was told, and I'm still here! So thanks for scolding me, Jess!

Jess: Ok, so: self-talk. Let’s get into it. In your everyday lived experience, how do you think the world sees you?

Duke: *Big breath and sigh* Yes, I actually just took a big breath and sighed. It's a tough question. Because, look: if I was answering the question for any other person, maybe I would say something different. But because I want to be brutally honest with you and all the other wear|haus babes...I think the first thing that people see when they meet me is a fat person. 

Jess: Why do you think the world views you as fat?

Duke: Unfortunately, we have all been conditioned to take in a person’s appearance first.  Logically, I know that there are so much more important things than the fact that I am in a bigger body. But when I think about how I am seen, I know that people see me as a fat person. I don't blame people for that. I blame the patriarchy, which I blame for pretty much everything.

Jess: But do you really, truly believe strangers and friends alike see you and only think ‘fat’?

Duke: Strangers? Yes. Some. Not all. I do think some people see beyond that, even if they have to force themselves to do so. If I see a person in a large body, I am taking in other aspects of them too. How they carry themselves, what they’re wearing, whether they’re smiling or laughing, and so on. Especially if that person is a woman, I also see that she’s gorgeous, because I think all women are beautiful. Period. If I actually get to know the person I am looking at, especially if they become a friend, all my thoughts about that person change. Their body size/shape/detail is so inconsequential to who they are. Unless they have cool tattoos. I will always have mad respect for sick ink. 

Jess: You know what? I do the same thing. My inner-voice or inner-critic is constantly trying to convince myself I am too much.  I often feel my effort is being judged as too much. Because of that stupid thought I think everyone thinks I’m too loud- which YES I AM LOUD, I KNOW….but it comes from love. And to that I will constantly shame myself. 

But to your point, When I notice a louder person – I take note. But I am not necessarily thinking: ‘wow she’s so loud, how embarrassing.’ I might actually admire their confidence. If I like what they have to say I will absolutely engage in conversation and then I will that my energy matches their energy. 

Sidenote*

In Barbie, all the barbies acknowledge each other by saying “hi Barbie.” Only they aren’t just saying hi. It's a reminder that Barbie can be anything. The phrase encapsulates all that she is. I want that for us. I want to always acknowledge someone and their worth. That sounds so inflated, but it's true. Because this self-deprecating dialogue continues on and grows louder the more we are not acknowledged for our worth. I wish that when we see a woman we recognize ourselves in we could all just say ‘hey barbie,’ and mean we see the confidence, the curves, the beauty, the energy that we are. 

 Jess: So alright. You can see others as more than just their physical appearance and I can appreciate another person's effort to be more than “trying too hard”… so what is holding us back from treating ourselves better? Why do we allow ourselves the negative talk?

Duke: Good question. I wish I could see my body in the mirror and say, “Hey you! Er, hey ME! I see your larger body. I also see your bouncy curly hair, your big Duke eyes, and your FABULOUS melons. I also see a body that WORKS. Sure, it’s gotten a bit achy with age, but this body took you to Europe last fall and also? You asked Jess to increase your weights during your private session the other day, so you are strong AF and just getting stronger. Yeah, your body did that! That’s amazeballs!” ...but that seems vain. So I don't do it because I don't want to be vain. It's not vanity though; it's confidence! But I am a woman so I am supposed to be demure or some crap. "Demure" - what a dumb, misogynistic word.

Jess: As a former dancer- I think negative self-talk was something I used to push me. If I pushed myself and critiqued myself I could work on the problems I needed to fix. (And if I say the mean things to myself first, it won’t hurt when I hear someone else say it). 

But if I’m honest, I don’t think these thoughts push me- I think they just continue to make me doubt myself. At worst, they hold me back from enjoying my experience by making me think I need to do more. 

That is a truly sad thought- to imagine we are missing out on full experiences because we are shaming ourselves for our appearance or effort or ability. Do you think you’ve missed out on anything? 

Duke: *Another big breath and sigh* Yes. And I hate that for me. When I was thinner, I had to constantly work to be thin, and that meant saying no to a lot of dinners out or fancy cocktails, but then when I got bigger, I literally wouldn't leave my house as much because I was ashamed that I had gained so much weight and I didn't want the world to have to look at me at all. Damn, I can't believe I just typed that. It is absolutely true and so freaking sad.

Jess: What have you done or what can you do to re-shape your negative self-talk? 

Duke: I think I can continue to try to neutralize the mean stuff by recognizing when I do it and trying to change the narrative. Tell myself something nice about myself after I berate myself internally. And I can do a better job of giving my body and brain what it needs. wear|haus is one of the single greatest things in my life that helps me get closer to that goal of loving the body I am in. And it’s not just because it’s where I work out. BOOOO! I mean sure, of course that’s part of it. Duh. But It’s so much more than that.

First of all, it is a judgement free zone. Come as you are! It says so over the door! Second, when I first started taking dance fitness classes (at many other places before w|h) I was always so concerned with getting the steps right and looking like an actual “dancer.” Now? I do not give a shit about that. At all. Sure, I wanna learn the steps. But if I’m in a crappy mood and need to half ass it: fine! At least I showed up! If I’m full of energy and kicking ass and taking names, I can yell out “YES! I KILLED THAT!” and Jess will just yell even louder that of course I did! Kelsey will agree as well, but she will do it more quietly. Why? Because they’re not just leading a class, they’re my honest-to-god real life friends. 

Jess: I can relate to that! I have to turn off my concern over ‘getting the steps right.’ When I can show up to class and just move- it makes me feel good. In those brief moments during class when I am fully in it- I can turn off my brain and not care what I look like or how I perceive myself. In fact, I vividly remember coming to terms with unhealthy and unrealistic body-standards by being able to tell myself: I feel good in this movement so just be here a second longer. 

Do you think that could be part of it? Allowing yourself to do something – like movement for example– that feels good, and just sitting with the feeling instead of the critical talk? 

Duke: Absolutely. For a thousand reasons. Movement helps your brain. It gives you all the happy chemicals that you don't have so many of when you're slumped on the couch thinking of all the things you didn't do right today. Accomplishing something good for yourself helps your confidence levels. And in the wear|haus classes, your body AND your brain are moving so much, there's much less space for the negative self-talk monsters to creep in.

Jess: A big personal reason for starting wear|haus was wildly selfish: I love being in a space where women feel safe to be strong. I find confidence when I see others confident and vibrant. I think a lot of us are finding new confidence or simply finding a bit more joy because of the environment. And the more I can surround myself with women that are trying and open and kind, the more I can quiet my own harmful self-talk. And I think this is a key takeaway. 

Do you find a community here that helps you?

Duke: YES. Not just Jess and Kels either; every haustler is my friend! If you’re reading this and we don’t know each other well, guess what?? We will be friends soon! Because the positive vibes and casual atmosphere (let’s not mistake the word casual for me saying the classes are easy because they are, in fact, very hard) set people at ease and we open up to each other. We support each other. We cheer each other on. Also, sometimes we drink together and that’s where we get all the hot goss. 

Jess: Man, we have been on a journey with this one!! How would you like to wrap this up for now, Duke? (because the conversation always lives on..)

Duke: Look. That annoying voice talking shit about you in your head? They’re a liar, okay? Is that hard to believe sometimes? Of course! I’m still trying to believe it myself! But they are such a huge liar liar that their pants are seriously on fire. Some days, it’s much easier to ignore those little liar liars. But on the days when it’s hard, and you believe those voices with the flaming pants, just imagine that I am saying, “Hey! Don’t talk about my friend that way!” …or imagine Jess yelling it because she’s much louder and higher pitched and maybe you’ll start being nicer to yourself just so she will stop yelling. 

Jess: Do you actually hear my voice in your head?

Duke:  Yes. It is squeakily but lovingly yelling, ”NATALIE DUKE! DUKE DUKE! DON'T TALK ABOUT MY FRIEND THAT WAY!” … tone it down inside voice Jess!

Jess: I have no idea what you are talking about.

Duke: Uh huh. Cute.