Christine Stoddard

Christine Stoddard

Bio

Originally from Virginia, Christine Stoddard is a Salvadoran-Scottish-American writer and artist. She also is the founding editor of Quail Bell Magazine, a place for real and unreal stories from around the world. Her art and stories have appeared in Cosmopolitan, Bustle,The Huffington Post, Vivala, The Feminist Wire, the New York Transit Museum, Philly Fringe Fest, and beyond. She also is the author of Hispanic and Latino Heritage in Virginia (The History Press, 2016). In 2014, Folio Magazine named Christine one of the media industry's top visionaries in their 20s.

Christine Stoddard Articles

We need to make women of all faiths feel included. (Image:Thinkstock)

I'm A Non-Religious Woman, But I Respect Religious Women 

Though I was raised in an interdenominational household, my upbringing could at best be described as vaguely Christian.

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You and your husband have a responsibility to integrate yourselves into the neighborhood. (Image: Thinkstock)

When You’re Married To The Only White Man In The Building

When you’re married to the only white man in your apartment building—and one of the very few in the neighborhood—you, as a woman, make a habit of observing him, especially if you’re a woman of color or a mixed race woman. “Will he use his social privilege for good or evil?” is the simple question, but evaluating him in those terms is not so simple.

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If I could go back and tell that little girl to run, I would. I would tell her to fly. I would tell her that being fat doesn't define her. It doesn't make her any less. Image: Thinkstock.

Once The "Fat Kid," Always The "Fat Kid."

Looking back at childhood photos now is bittersweet. In the moment the camera caught, I'm always smiling, but I wasn't always a happy child. I was fat-shamed almost daily.

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By the end of the first haunted house rehearsal, I knew the job would truly test my abilities to carry my body and voice well.

 Working At A Haunted House Was Better Than Therapy 

Before I became a haunted house performer, I thought having my face touched was one of the creepiest things imaginable. But it wasn't the eerie set music or the beheaded baby dolls that changed my definition of scary. It was what went on in the green room.

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Illustrations by Ajah Courts (http://cargocollective.com/ajahcourts/Quail-Bell)

China Street: Fiction From Quail Bell Magazine

The moon sauntered out from a curtain of clouds, whispering, “All things must end.”

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We can proud of our ancestors without claiming to be them. Image: Isaias Silva Pinto/Pixabay.

I Have Indigenous Blood — But I'm Not Indigenous

Indigenous people throughout the world already face so many challenges; they don’t need non-Indigenous people appropriating their cultures and championing family lore as fact. The genocide of Indigenous people is an ongoing travesty throughout the world

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Emotionally, there were times I longed for a hint of my Salvadoran heritage in my name.

Why My Immigrant Parent Gave Me Such An “American” Name

Plenty of Americans have names that don't convey their full cultural background because, at this point, so many of us are mixed up. How could our names possibly communicate all that we are? But when the time comes for an interracial, interethnic, international couple to name their child, they're often faced with a political decision.

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All illustrations by Kristen Rebelo

My Encounter with a 'Non-Racist' in Fear of a Black Neighborhood

Black—the whispered word in educated, politically correct, upper middle class society.

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image credit: Thinkstock

Love It? Hate It? Vocal Fry Is Everywhere

I cringe when Kim Kardashian opens her pouty lips because I know the onslaught of vocal fry

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"Our wedding took place one May morning, outside of a historic house that overlooks the river running through our college town." Image: Pixabay, Veton Ethemi

I Am An Artist Who Married Young, And I Feel Like The Only One

In art school, conversations about the merits of polyamory thrived, but hearing anyone express a genuine desire to get married almost never happened. It was almost taboo. The implication was, how could you want something so traditional? So suburban and unimaginative?

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