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Illustration

     My mom has always described me with a Survivor-esque scenario: "Eva could be dropped in a far-off desert with just a piece of paper and a pencil, and I trust she'd be fine."

     Though I won't be appearing on The Amazing Race anytime soon, her words ring true regarding my journey as an illustrative journalist.  To quote my artist statement in my 2019 National Scholastic Press Association Artist of the Year Winning Portfolio:

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     "How does this graphic supplement this article? 

     What does it say?  
     What does it add to the story, and is what it’s adding important to the readers?
     By asking these questions, I have learned that there is so much more to a graphic than pretty colors and a clever presentation.  Graphics are a language all their own, with meaning to be found in every brush stroke and speech bubble. As an artist, one has the power to extend beyond their natural audience and reach readers with connotation, with choice, with intent-- not words.  Illustrative journalism has exposed me to the challenge of conveying a thought in a picture, and the even greater difficulty of ensuring that the thought translates to others the way it does to you, the artist. Now, when I return to my reporter-roots, I am more critical of my words, for I have faced the 2 a.m. “art block” resulting from the struggle of not having any.


     A graphic is a question, a shout, a scream, a whisper.  My pieces are all of these things, absent the bite of words.
     My art is silent-- but that does not mean it’s not speaking."

National Scholastic Press Association:

 Artist of the Year Winning Portfolio

Though each of the pieces within my NSPA portfolio have their own thoughtful and heartfelt reflections, looking at the entirety of my work as The Tower's graphics manager in retrospect is much more rewarding.

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The illustrations in this portfolio are emblematic of my own personal road to finding purpose within the field of journalism.  Long before I came to love the late-night deadlines and the now-coffee-stained AP Style guide that resides on my desk, I had always used art as a tool for the expression of the messy, complicated, and ineffable parts of my own life.

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It was only natural that I would be drawn to doing the same for others' stories.

 United by faith: Religious response, outlook to global pandemic

Having been raised my entire life in a non-religious household in the homogenous suburbs of Grosse Pointe, I had always viewed many of the less obvious struggles for inclusion and recognition as operating independently from me.

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When the COVID-19 pandemic prompted a massive religious revival within my town, touching both long-time believers and modern practicers, I was challenged with the task of meaningfully and respectfully representing groups I knew little to nothing about.

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Thus, I chose a simple approach: a slight use of both repetition and contrast.  Because, as the reporter aptly communicated, the act of celebrating our differences in light of our similarities is the foundation of true unity.

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At the same time, my community is predominantly Christian, with Jewish and Muslim groups particularly underrepresented and disproportionally alienated throughout my neighborhood.  By including a variety of faiths in the graphic on the front page, rather than relegating the graphic to an obvious yet isolating image of a cross, the central message of the pandemic shone through: that we’re all in this together.

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Love in the time of COVID-19

Who doesn't love a good '80s reference?

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(Maybe when that reference feels more real life than romance novel...)

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For the front page of The Tower's Valentine's Day-themed issue, I created a flirty and hopeful take on the impact of one of the pandemic's necessary evils: the mask, shielding us from unwanted germs and, unfortunately, Cupid's arrow.

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Having published thirteen issues during the pandemic, I as an illustrator have been the one to draw our readers in with perhaps now one of the most elusive emotions: joy, be it through vibrant colors or images that capture what words often can't.

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As a reporter, one of the most rewarding feelings is being able to follow the visible progress and change created by your content.  Exactly two years ago, on February 14th, 2019, I created a podcast where I interviewed an LGBTQ+ couple on the both passive and aggressive homophobia they experienced within Grosse Pointe, including having their cars vandalized.

 

And yet, in 2021, I featured an LGBTQ+ couple on the front page of our Valentine’s Day issue, tearing down the narrative of shame and injustice and replacing it with a celebration of unadulterated and hopeful love-- even if they should technically be six feet apart.

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Journalism should offer the truth

You would think an illustrator would be provided with a bit of leeway research-wise, leaving that task up to the reporters and copy editors of the world.

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I thought the same, as I sat at 1 a.m., tablet pen in one hand and my other fervently scrolling through the Wikipedia rabbit hole that is the life of Anna Politkovskaya.

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Oftentimes, graphics are equated to "cartoons," when in fact illustrative journalism requires the same amount of research and investigative effort to tease out the nuances of a topic-- the very nuances that need to be captured in the image.

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Deliberately choosing to expand my search beyond American journalism and delve into the dangers of reporting in heavily-censored countries, this editorial cartoon speaks a louder truth about the reality of journalism beyond the walls of high schools.

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Taking proactive steps: Reflecting on our rancorous ride towards the future 

As the writer of this editorial, I had a distinct vision for the editorial cartoon.  Though my words were tempered, my genuine impression of the event, its preceding incidents, and its aftermath could be much more overt when materialized in the form of brush strokes and color theory.

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With my conscious use of perspective and posing, coupled with my portrayal of the political parties as powerful gods, this editorial cartoon succeeds in mirroring the unfathomable whirlwind the day's events created.

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Protecting students as F2F learning looms: custodians take on heavy workload in the face of the COVID-19 pandemic 

In order to effectively communicate the understated role of custodians regarding the prevention of COVID-19 within schools, I deliberately chose to illustrate both the custodian and the student through colorless linework.  In doing so, a dichotomy emerged: the "invisible" heroism of my school's custodial staff, operating like specters from behind the scenes, and the student herself, demonstrating the selflessness of those such as Lawrence Summey whose work protects those they may never even meet.

Election Fever: The effect on the vote

Though I myself am a lover of all things visually detailed, the accompanying graphic to my article on COVID-19's impact on the 2020 voting process is an example of my ability to step back and allow simplicity to carry my message.

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Taking a familiar staple of the voting experience-- the cheery "I Voted" sticker, worn as a symbol of pride on shirts, hats, phone cases, and car windows-- I was able to convey just how integral COVID-19 was to the format of the election itself.  And, by steering away from the dramatic avenue of visual metaphors, I further expressed the genuine "unknown" of the process; with such a tumultuous night on the horizon, the ever-present sticker seemed to be the one thing that stayed the same.

Unpublished Op-Ed on Police Brutality Against Autistic Citizens

During my time as a summer apprentice with the Detroit Free Press, I was given the opportunity to craft an op-ed on the intersection between police brutality against the autistic community and the Black Lives Matter movement.  I was also able to collaborate with the Freep's Mike Thompson on the accompanying illustration.

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As the younger sister of two individuals living on the autism spectrum, drafting the op-ed and creating its graphic was my first exposure to an alternative use for opinion writing: my voice was not persuasive, but cathartic, synthesizing my own fears regarding my brothers' futures with the anxieties of parents, siblings, and loved ones across the nation during a time of urgently-needed police reform.

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The intentional use of negative space provided me with a clear avenue to visually represent the real concern of my family: that my brothers would have to face oppression and injustice alone.

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Unpublished Op-Ed on COVID-19 Risk in Children

Drawing inspiration from The Atlantic's article regarding the COVID-19 vaccine's creation of a "young people's disease," I created an editorial cartoon articulating the responsibility of adults to protect an increasingly vulnerable population-- their own children.

 

In order to articulate the gravity of the topic, I returned to my roots of creating black-and-white editorial cartoons with witty captions.

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