Question time: Can coffee make you gay?

“I have a male colleague who won’t go into cafés. According to him, cafés are for women, bars are for men. When his wife orders coffee, he waits outside,” a twitter user wrote a few months ago. This man is married to a woman, I wondered, but attends a men-only bar? Fair enough. Rebloggers on social media made similar remarks. And the war in the comments began.

Hipsters, chains and drinks

Talking about coffee: Starbucks has come to Augsburg;  you might have noticed from ever-fuller trash cans and the growing number of people in Uggs and NorthFace jackets. But I am no better than these people: despite the weird sizes and baristas who ask your name but can’t get it right, despite the environmental impact and the loss of family-owned, traditional cafés, I go to Starbucks regularly. They can call me Nicolas, Niccollò and Nicholas – all three in German stores, by the way – and still I love Starbucks.  Especially in fall when you can order Pumpkin Spice Lattes (PSL, for fans). I had one – okay, I had twenty. And that’s where the trouble began.

Male, female or PSL drinker?

See, some people just can’t let you enjoy your coffee. A man drinking Pumpkin Spice Lattes? What’s next? A stay-at-home dad? A female chancellor? “You’re such a basic white girl, Nik,” a friend of mine said. Being two of these three things, I couldn’t exactly feel offended. “Takes one to recognize one,” I replied. The sentence “Only women and gays drink that stuff” from a fellow student didn’t make me turn suicidal either – that’s just the kind of locker room joke that some politicians base their entire campaigns on.

Can we relax for a second?

However, the statements had me thinking. What if I am the only straight man who enjoys Starbucks coffee? Gendering can be a weird thing if you leave aside social conventions. Yeah, it does make sense to create clothing that caters to the needs of one biological sex – bras, for instance. A man can wear a bra if he wants to. He might just not need it as much, anatomically speaking. The same goes for some social conventions that are based on genders. Opening a door for a woman? Great stuff. Ten out of ten would do it again. But coffee? Come on.

There are real problems, you know.

Most of us would claim to live in a modern world – both parents have jobs, we look down on Trump voters’ supposed sexism and we all have that convenient gay friend we keep referring to for credibility. But if we really are all that modern and open-minded, why don’t we look at gender in the areas where it really is an issue? What if we fixed the pay gap or protected women from sexual harassment for a start? What if we took women’s opinions seriously in business meetings or car garages? What if we looked at people, instead of genders, and stopped making a fuss about century-olds role images? But no, we gender coffee, as if there weren’t any real problems to deal with. What we drink should really be everyone’s own cup of tea, pun intended.

How far have we come?

I went back to Starbucks (for research purposes, of course) and asked a barista if men ordered PSLs. “In fact, men order this drink more than women,” the barista told me. I asked if they made sure to keep their voices down, to protect their masculinity. “Why, no? Tastes are different. We should be above that,” was her answer. “Anyway, here’s your drink.” She handed me my PSL with a sly wink, as if she was supplying me with a month’s worth of heroin. I left the store in a weird mood. What if I had made up a problem where there was none? I looked down at my cup, which looked phallic, rather than feminine, to see if they had got my name right that day. The barista had written “Nicole”. With a heart above the ‘i’.

Author: Niklas Schmidt

Pictures: Martina Sonn

When depression meets love: a toxic cocktail

Nowadays, mental health is an issue which gets a lot of coverage. However you rarely hear about the people suffering with the sufferers. I was one of those people, for two years, and have finally decided to write about it. I met this girl at school, a couple years ago now – and honestly, I was hooked. We got friendly very quickly before the summer, but the contact dried up during, and I slowly forgot about her, till the start of September 2016. She got in contact again, and from then on we grew gradually closer, till one night, the 12th January 2017, when this wonderful, lovely, slightly odd girl finally told me. She was clinically depressed, and had been for three years, I should really leave her alone, she’d understand – but I loved this girl! So of course, I stayed.


The Beginning
The hardest thing in all of this was actually properly dealing with a clinically depressed person. Every day was a challenge with her, and most of the time I barely got a response from her that was longer than three words. The mood swings, the recklessness, and the non-existent will to live was extremely hard. It got worse when she would describe exactly the pit of blackness she was feeling. All the while I was dealing with this new information, I kept her secret, I felt it only fair when she trusted something so valuable to me – Which made dealing with everything even more difficult. We did have a simple coping mechanism though. Get drunk, and all the blackness went away, for a few hours. That was when we shared the most with each other, and grew closer. Some of the stuff she would say would shock me, but mostly make me sad beyond belief that however hard I tried, I couldn’t save her, all I could do was be there. So I was, even if I went mad in the process.


Hope
Summer 2017 was a time for hope. We were both moving on to new things, new lives. Away from the old, bad memories. To make some new ones. We spent a lot of time with each other toward the end of the summer, just having fun and dreaming for the future. We were both happy, she had something to focus on. Soon enough came our last time together before we both left, she for Frankfurt, me for Augsburg. That last night was a dream. We made promises to keep in contact, to always be there for one another. As I stood at her door, as she shut the door, I looked at the rising sun, and started to cry. Was this the beginning of the end?


Pain
At first, everything was good. She was truly happy in her new home, her techno parties, she had everything. I was happy she was happy. Then came the MDMA. I knew, as soon as she told me, that she wouldn’t be able to control herself taking it – euphoria for a depressive person is like a drug itself, right? Here, I could do nothing to stop her, and it seemed to be the end of us. But a few months later, after getting back speaking, I visited her in Frankfurt, and that day in itself felt too good to be true – sure was. As time went on, it seemed that all we had discussed in Frankfurt, all the things we wanted to change: there would be better communication, healthier ways to deal with her bad days, etc. seemed to have been forgotten. Then came another depressive phase, and by June 2018, everything crumbled.


Fin
She started taking Ecstasy excessively. I wanted her to get help – she wouldn’t. After a period of silence, I wanted to know what was going on, how she was, and I got told that she was ”happy” now and didn’t need me. That was how it ended. In September 2018. Now as I’m writing this, I’m slowly getting better, but the feelings of anger, sadness, loneliness still strike. The only unanswered question I have, is ”Why?”

Author: Conor Schiffer

Picture: Filz Özer

Sympathy for a killer


The lights come on and in a nightgown Ruth Ellis (Lotte Albrecht) enters the stage to the bittersweet Blues of Billie Holiday, which immediately draws the audience into the stylish, but flawed version of the 1950s that forms the backdrop for the story preceding Ruth’s death. On 13 July 1955, at the age of 28 she is hanged, the last woman in Britain to suffer this fate. Her crime: she shot her lover in cold blood. What drove this young, beautiful woman over the edge? Why did she not even attempt to defend herself? These are some of the questions “The Thrill of Love” by Amanda Whittington aims to explore.

An emotional rollercoaster

The story is told in flashbacks through the perspective of Inspector Jack Gale (Jack Sigel). During his investigation he reconstructs a selection of events that give us an insight into the seedy world of gentlemen’s clubs and the women working the nights. Always present on bar room stage, he is a constant reminder that even the happiest moments in the lives of the women there are nothing but stepping stones on the path to the grim future we already know. However, these scenes of joy are one of the greatest feats of the play: it’s all too easy to get lost in the hopelessness and sadness that is usually associated with the story of Ruth Ellis. The playful banter between the women is a welcome break and allows the actresses to display their perfect timing and quick delivery. Thanks to these moments the characters become more than just parts of a tragic story. We become invested in their hopes and dreams, although we should know full well that they are unlikely at best. When this realization finally kicks in during the second half of the play, it hits that much harder.

Powerful performances

There are no extras in “The Thrill of Love”. Every character has his or her moments. The club’s manager Sylvia Shaw (Lucie Marchand) appears to be all business, but she cares deeply about all the women who work for her. The charwoman Doris (Anna Hilbel) often puts her needs behind those of others, even if it puts her own happiness at risk. The young Vicky Martin (Sara Steffes) hopes to meet powerful men and become a star on the big screen. Even Inspector Gale, cold as he may seem, turns out to be motivated by more than the mere desire to solve a case.

An unforgettable evening

“The Thrill of Love” is a powerful experience. The crew surrounding Rudolf Beck has managed to create a captivating atmosphere that lingers long after the curtain closes. We may know the outcome from the very beginning, but we don’t know the story behind it. In finding out, it’s difficult not to feel somewhat like a voyeur. Personal tragedies happen in silence. It’s when they emerge that we start to care.

 

Performances:

Thursday 6th December
Friday 7th December
Tuesday 11th December
Thursday 13th December

8 p.m., Hörsaal II

 

Author & Poster: Andreas Böhm

The Thrill of Love

Anglistentheater is back!

Amanda Whittington’s “The Thrill of Love” is based on the true story of Ruth Ellis, who was the last woman to be hanged in Britain. You want to find out why she shot her lover seemingly in cold blood? You want to know why she didn’t try to defend herself? Well, you’re in for an emotional story of strong women and broken dreams.
Get your tickets now and be part of the German première of “The Thrill of Love”.

For more info go to the AnglistenTheater’s website.

International Workaholics Day

It couldn’t fit any better, could it?  Exams are coming up, so most of us only seem to turn into real workaholics when studying towards the end of the term. How fitting, then, that today, on 5th July, we can all celebrate International Workaholics Day! Personally, I‘m not sure whether we should celebrate or commiserate…

Worka…what?!

A workaholic is a “person to whom work is extremely or excessively important, esp. one who voluntarily works very long hours; a person addicted to working” (OED).

It can also imply that someone really enjoys the work itself or that they simply feel obliged to do it. That’s quite something, don’t you think? Certainly, we all sometimes, somehow feel a certain ‘pressure’ when it comes to work. But a workaholic comes in early, stays in late and sacrifices health and their relationships with their loved ones. Not only once, but very often. I dare say – constantly. Relaxation simply isn’t part of their vocabulary, literally. This may work out for a certain time.

But let’s face it: a healthy work-life balance is vital!

Help! I know a workaholic!

While reading this, you might have a friend or relative in mind, or you might recognise your own workaholic behaviour… In that case, you’ve already made the first step towards a better work-life balance. Remember some of the following advice that may help to be a diligent, hard-working student who can combine work and time for revitalization

  • Give your body and mind enough time to relax. This sets free more energy than you might think at first glance.
  • Set yourself a certain time limit to finish your work effectively, instead of spending too much time working ineffectively.
  • Reward yourself by organising a meeting with a mate that always cheers you up.
  • In case you have got up the wrong side of the bed: stop working for a day. Don’t force it! Try to relax and start all over the next day.
  • Remind yourself of one very essential fact: nobody’s perfect! It’s human nature to set goals you can’t attain sometimes!

Remember, we get up and go to work every day to earn the money or to study for a job in the future in order to enjoy the rest of our lives. Why not start enjoying now? Being hard-working definitely earns respect, but you only live once, right?

Text & Picture: Maximiliane Hil

YES THEORY

Monday morning. 6:30 am. The alarm clock rings. You get up, make yourself a nice hot cup of coffee (because you can’t do anything before that caffeine kicks in), then read the paper, get yourself ready, go to work, come home, have some leftovers from the day before, watch your favorite TV show, check up on social media and go to sleep. Next day, it’s the same procedure. Eat. Sleep. Repeat.

Is this what your life might look like in five to ten years’ time? Or does it already look that way?

The great feeling of knowing what to expect

Routines. We love them. We humans are creatures of habit. Schedules, plans, simply knowing what to expect when we wake up in the morning – WE LOVE IT. And most of us seem to do really well with this kind of structure for their days, weeks or their lives.

Let’s take this scenario and alter it a bit

Monday morning. 6:30 am. The alarm clock rings. You get up, make yourself a nice hot cup of coffee. Then read the paper, get yourself ready, go to the airport, take the
first last-minute flight they offer you and spontaneously go on an adventure to the Bahamas.

YES THEORY

Sounds fun? Scary? Crazy?

We fear what we can’t predict. That’s why most of us so vigorously cling to our comfort zones. But you know what? Life begins at the end of your comfort zone. This is the philosophy four Canadian guys in their mid-twenties live by. They seem to have found the key to living a good and happy life: seeking discomfort. Together they came up with the concept of ’Yes Theory’ in 2015.

Things have changed quiet a lot for these guys, who used to live a rather ordinary life. They decided to step out of their comfort zones whenever they can – causing them to have unbelievable experiences. They moved to LA, went skinny dipping with strangers, sneaked into a Hollywood premiere and hitchhiked to Mexico. And that’s only listing a few of their countless adventures. And their intentions pay off: they’re all living and enjoying life more consciously and transform their anxiety into happiness and excitement. Getting curious? Go check them out at ‘Yes Theory’ on YouTube or on their blog and follow their miraculous journey.

Saying ‘yes’

Are you living a calm life right there at this warm and cozy spot in the middle of your comfort zone? And most importantly: do you feel the need to change something about it? To feel more alive, maybe? Do you miss the feeling of your blood rushing through your veins? Yes? Well, then be inspired by the ‘Yes Theory’ and try to say yes more often (starting with that very first ‘yes’ you maybe just said).

‘What makes you uncomfortable? What are you gonna do about it?’  (quote by one of the members of ‘Yes Theory’)

So after reading this, do you want to change your life for the better? Well, you don’t have to hop on a plane to another continent right away. Let’s start with baby steps out of your comfort zone, but most importantly: start.

Go to the movie you want to see so badly – by yourself, because no one wants to join.

Go jump off that cliff that seems to be way too high for you.

Go ask that boy or girl you’ve had a crush on for so long for a date.

Do what the dark, mean anxiety in your head tells you not to.

Enjoy life more consciously.

Be crazy, loud and spontaneous.

Seek discomfort.

Be happy.

 

Text: Lena Zimmermann
Picture: Fabian Prinz

 

 

Lasciatemi cantare con la chitarra in mano, lasciatemi cantare, sono un italiano vero?

Identità: Il complesso dei dati personali caratteristici e fondamentali che consentono l’individuazione o garantiscono l’autenticità, specialmente dal punto di vista anagrafico o burocratico. Siamo davvero soltanto quello che un libro anagrafico dice di noi?

 Polisemia identitaria   

 In realtà, il concetto di “identità” muta profondamente, a seconda che lo si adoperi all’interno di un discorso matematico, filosofico o sociologico. Quindi, la prima cosa da fare quando se ne parla, è considerare in quale ambito se ne stia parlando, per quali fini, e quindi con quali significati. In ambito matematico l’identità evidenzia per definizione ‘’L’uguaglianza fra due espressioni nelle quali intervengano una o più variabili’’ ma, a prescindere da ciò, sia in ambito filosofico che sociologico, il concetto di identità indica una caratteristica, o un elemento, o un’idea che renda distinguibile un individuo da tutti gli altri. Caratteristiche, elementi e idee che filosoficamente non ammettono sfumature, e indicano una qualità, o un insieme di qualità, che non consentono ambiguità, e tanto meno confusioni.Sociologicamente invece, essi non rimangono fissi, ma evolvono sia rispetto alla crescita dell’individuo, dall’infanzia alla vecchiaia, sia per effetto dei cambiamenti che si verificano a livello sociale, dato che ciascun individuo è inserito in una società e ne viene influenzato. Perciò sarebbe lecito affermare sia che l’identità di un individuo, o di un gruppo, o di una comunità, sono qualcosa di permanente e di non negoziabile, che non ammette alterazioni, in quanto o si è se stessi, o non si è, sia quanti sostengono che, al contrario, l’individuo, i gruppi e le comunità, pur avendo coscienza di sé, modificano lentamente e necessariamente tale coscienza nel corso dei processi storici, sociali, culturali, economici e linguistici.

Uno, nessuno e centomila

 Ma possono la matematica, la filosofia o la sociologia farci capire chi siamo realmente?

Probabilmente no. Sicuramente no, ma di certo la ricerca della propria identità accompagna tutti noi attraverso un cammino lungo e tortuoso, un cammino da seguire per tutta la vita, pieno di domande e quasi mai di risposte certe.

Siamo il paese dove siamo nati? La lingua che parliamo? La cultura a cui apparteniamo? Sono le nostre idee a definire la nostra identità? Oppure siamo uno, nessuno e centomilacome affermava Pirandello? Chi può dirlo? Sono domande che ognuno di noi si è posto almeno una volta nella vita arrivando quasi sempre a pensare che forse Pirandello aveva ragione. Almeno nel mio caso è stato così. Cambiare paese, cambiare città, parlare un’altra lingua per inseguire un sogno infatti mi ha portato molte volte a riflettere su chi io sia realmente, e soprattutto a cercare di capire se avere lasciato la mia patria abbia fatto di me un nessuno, un italiano un po’ meno italiano insomma, perché è lì che sono nato, cresciuto e diventato quel che sono oggi. Beh, di certo questo cambiamento radicale mi ha reso più centomila che nessuno. Perché? Perché la mia identità, come quella di ognuno di noi, non è solo il mio paese, la mia cultura o la mia lingua, quello è solo il punto di partenza. Avere arricchito il mio bagaglio culturale di nuove esperienze, di nuovi punti di vista e di nuove idee non ha fatto altro che incrementare il mio essere, in continua evoluzione, facendomi rimanere sempre e comunque uno, me stesso con le mie radici appresso. Un me stesso con nuove esperienze da raccontare, in più di una lingua ormai, in perenne ritardo e con quell’insaziabile voglia di pizza da colmare. Alla fine sono italiano, no?

Si, essere uno, nessuno e centomila non è poi così male e credo che sia questa la definizione di identità più realistica che si possa dare. Identità è essere tutti diversi, ognuno con le proprie radici, la propria cultura e il proprio bagaglio di esperienze, ognuno uno, ognuno nessuno e ognuno centomilaa seconda della situazione, a seconda di ciò che si decide di essere, perché in fin dei conti siamo a noi a noi decidere chi siamo e come siamo. Nessun libro o vocabolario può spiegare chi siamo. Perché siamo ciò che viviamo e ciò che scegliamo di essere. In quanto a me, lasciatemi cantare con la chitarra in mano, lasciatemi cantare, sono un italiano, un italiano vero. E sento nel profondamente di esserlo ovunque io sia.

Text & picture: Giuseppe Mattia Lombardi