I am part of this feminist listserv (LISTSERV) slash community called WAM (women, action, and the media) and tomorrow I will be the guest speaker for WAMENTORING, which is, basically: come hang out, drink wine, and I shall attempt to impart knowledge jewels about feminism in the cultural criticism SPHERE. It is $5 because they need to pay for the wine and renting the space but no one will be turned away for lack of funds. Come through if you want! I don’t even know what I will be talking about but I will attempt to be funny and hopefully have visuals, but not a powerpoint. INFO IS HERE.
HI, thank you so much for the compliment! God I get so behind with answering these things. Well, I didn’t really see “Bow Down” as her talking shit to people like Keri Hilson (or any one of her peers or “lessers”), but more as a general statement of bossitude—something that any chica who is feeling herself could relate to, sing along to, and apply to her own life. (I don’t interpret her using the word “bitches” as directed towards any specific person or even women at all—it seemed pretty amorphous to me in this application.) And in the video, it felt very symbolic to me that she included the footage of Girls Tyme losing Star Search to that metal band, just to show that she’s been through it, too. (At NINE.) I didn’t think it was incongruous with the Flawless part—I thought the “Bow Down” sentiment was actually strengthened with the Adichie speech, that Bey was saying she was going to boss up and own her power without shrinking into herself like society teaches girls that we should. I found the whole thing super liberating actually! Sorry this is dumb old, you’ve probably sussed out how you feel by now.
HI! ALSO SORRY THIS TOOK A MINUTE TOO. Yes! I mean, I try to mentor people as much as possible, not even really as a “I’M GONNA BE YR MENTOR NOW” steez but it ends up happening by rights of me trying to be helpful when I can and also overthrow the patriarchy. I also teach a class at NYU which I guess is a form of mentoring. I’m all about each one teach one nahmean.
Hi Sasha! Sorry it took a minute to get back to you. OH MY GOSH, so I feel you so hard on this. So for me, it took awhile to get to a TRULY HAPPY point. When I first left Cheyenne I was still depressed, partly because I didn’t immediately go where I wanted to live—I followed my then-boyfriend into the midwest when really I wanted to go to one of the coasts. It took about a year before I was like “forget this” and then I moved where I wanted to—to Portland, Oregon, and then to NYC—where I eventually found MY PEOPLE. (I was also depressed clinically, which eventually was mostly overcome through working with therapists and getting on the right medication.) But generally, when you move anywhere, there is a period of transition you go through that might feel like it’s piling on your initial depression. Things are new, and it might take a little while to make friends, and you might not automatically like where you’ve moved. Even if your hometown now is the WORST, there’s probably still a familiarity about it that can be scary to shed when you move somewhere else, even when you’re moving to your dream city. So don’t feel bad if you move somewhere and don’t IMMEDIATELY feel cured of sadness (and/or boredom, ugh). Moving to a new place can be hard, but once you get through the initial adjustment period, it will definitely get better. (And if it doesn’t, that’s okay too! I have plenty of friends who left their hometown for somewhere they thought they’d be happier—LA, or NY, or the Bay, or even smaller places like Portland or Austin or Denver—and realized they hated it and wanted to go back home. There’s no shame in going back home!) So yes, remember manage your expectations, cause there’s no magical overnight happiness, unfortunately. (Also if you keep feeling depressed and it feels unmanageable, definitely seek out a counselor or therapist or equivalent to talk to, because that can totally be helped.) ALL THAT SAID: I’ve been in NYC for 10 years and I have never been happier! You will totally find your place, too, it just might take a minute! (PS THIS DOES NOT SOUND EVEN THE LEAST BIT STUPID, THIS STUFF IS SO HARD. HOPE THAT HELPED!) xo Julianne
Seattle’s not-insignificant social justice community (you know, the people concerned with things like appropriation and representation) overlaps tremendously with its personal-friends-of-Macklemore community. And our music community, it turns out, overlaps quite a bit with our clueless-white-insularity community. Everyone is tearfully happy for their friends and angry at the “haters” and defensive about their politics and wounded by guilt-by-association.
Post-going-viral foreword: I’d love to link to blog/longform pieces by trans women about the Grantland article (here, at the top, above my words). I am searching, but plz send links to @handler on Twitter, or email michael/at\grendel/dot\net or contact via Tumblr. Thanks. -mh
Dear Caleb Hannan & the editors of Grantland:
I’m not a habitual reader of Grantland, because I’m not much into the work-a-day issues and discussions of the sports world. I do love long-form journalism about specific people, and culture, and pop culture issues, and the works that I’ve read on Grantland have been satisfying enough that I kept on wondering why I wasn’t making it part of my regular reading rounds. The other week, I stumbled across Chuck Klosterman’s article about Royce White and mental health, and I shared it with my SO, and she shared it with her family, and we had a deep and connecting discussion about it which I am still appreciating.
Despite my lack of regular connection to Grantland, I am compelled to write in to you about Caleb Hannan’s article about Dr. V, which I read today, mostly in openmouthed disgust, and with increasing horror as it built to its conclusion.
There’s no question that the design, origin, and performance of a new golf club of mysterious provenance, from outside the historical establishment of equipment design, is a compelling and interesting story on many levels. There’s no question that the behavior and history of an erratic and inconsistent inventor, whose claimed superlative credentials persistently cannot be verified, is also compelling and relevant to the narrative.
There’s also no question that the way that Dr. V’s existence as a trans woman was researched, outed, and used in the narrative of the story was monstrous, stereotypical, transphobic, hurtful, and wrong.