#with women i do have a more recent concrete example i can point to that was like okay Yeah. that was definitely Real | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xjinkiesx · 1 year

Note

Question- What racism is there in SDMI? And how does SDMI only exist because of HP Lovecraft? That just doesn't make sense.

Good Day.

I did, admittedly, spend quite a lot of time last night thinking about your questions and figuring out the best way to address them. The best way I found was from the beginning, which is a perfectly good way to start according to Julie Andrews, so let’s just jump on it.

Screencaps from SDMI are either taken myself from archive.org’s postings of the episodes, or from mysteryincoutofcontext. Other pictures/screenshots were sourced from Google.

And this is going under a Read More because it’s a long read.

Real quickly, however, I’ll amend something that I learned while gathering my sources. I incorrectly called Abigail Gluk and Pericles’s robot creations Kriegstapobots, coming from mixing the German word krieg (war) and the term Gestapo, who were the former secret police of Nazi Germany. The term they use, however, is Kriegstaffelbot, combining krieg as well as staffel, meaning squadron.

Okay, so into the meat and potatoes of your questions. Let us start with my statements of racism. I may, ultimately, be missing some instances, as these were just the ones that came to my head initially. What I also realized while researching for this reply is that I may also simply be misinformed. I am white. How I see things as being racist may or may not be correct, and the final judgement should be made by people of the cultures that these are directed at. My best work is simply to point out where things can be improved.

The racism in SDMI comes in the form of jokes. There is nothing outwardly malicious stated or displayed that I can remember. Frankly, I am not going to sit back down and rewatch every episode just to catalog things for the sake of this reply to make sure of that. I hesitate to use the term microaggression out of fear of incorrect usage, but I do honestly feel that is what a lot of these boil down to.

Honorable mention to Angel Dynamite (Vivica A. Fox) who I cannot in good faith say is an example of racism but knowing the social conditions that created her character is honestly well worth looking into. Angel Dynamite is heavily rooted in the Blaxploitation genre, popular in the late 60s through the 1970s, with some notable inclusions going up until as recent as 2021. The genre is deeply rooted in the Black Power movement, with characters that are often fighting “The Man”, a nebulous and white power that is attempting to keep them subdued. There are a lot of stereotypes and high romanticization of the Black experience in this genre of film, as well as a lot of generalizations made. I feel like knowing the history behind her character archetype is worth more than boiling her down to “racist trope or not”. What I did find interesting is that Black Dynamite, the film and adult animated series that parodies Blaxpoiltation, was also distributed by Warner Brothers around this era. Her name may be a nod to it, but I could find nothing concrete on this.

Angel is, however, subject to at least one possible microaggression that I can remember. In Season 1, Episode 14, “Mystery Solvers Club State Finals”, Principal Quinlan makes a statement about how Angel is “robust” for a woman. Women of color have a history of their femininity being downplayed or weaponized, and this phrase coming from a white woman just, to me, seems a little off.

For good measure, a screencap:

Who I can more definitively point out as being a caricature is Lady Marmalade (Cree Summers) from Season 1, Episode 23, “A Haunting in Crystal Cove.” Played for comedy, she is a heavy parody of the Creole South, with her design likely taking inspiration from actual Voodoo practitioner, herbalist, and spiritualist Marie Laveau, shown below:

Lady Marmalade’s name comes from a song by the same name about a man who visits a New Orleans prostitute, made famous in 1975 by Patti Labelle. This is, ultimately, not what I find out-of-pocket. It’s the characterization. She's a borderline Mammy in her delivery, and the character’s “comical” portrayals of Voodoo – a very real and cultural practice primarily performed by members of the Diaspora – are not flattering.

SDMI is not terrible with its portrayals of Asian characters, which genuinely surprised me. Like many things in SDMI, you can see where the creators chose to wear their inspirations on their sleeves. From Showa Era film to more modern martial arts films, they take heavy inspiration and do so in a mostly respectful way.

Chen’s Coffee is the thing that keeps me from giving it a full pass. Of all the designs for a Chinese-owned coffee shop, they went with this:

Call this one a stretch if you will, but I really feel like they could have done better on this design. Crystal Cove is a tourist-trap town, and gimmicks are certainly a thing, but this really just seems to be too much. Even the Chinatown sign seems overly done in a “Get it? He’s Chinese!” way.

Bonus points for Mayor Jones calling a traditional Peking opera costume a “Geisha” in Season 1, Episode 18, “The Dragon’s Secret”. It’s a completely different culture, though Mayor Jones does have a pattern of using inappropriate one-offs as jokes. The full line, since I wasn’t able to get a screenshot with subtitles of the full scene: “Why do we have a geisha tied up in here? You know they belong downtown in Crystal Cove’s Geisha House of Terror.” Partial screencap with subtitles:

The last instance of racism that I can think of immediately is from Season 2, Episode 11, “Dance of the Undead”. In order to infiltrate a Hex Girls concert on the yacht of a Sheik, Shaggy and Scooby go under-cover. They’re harem girl outfits.

This is very much a joke context: Shaggy is explaining how, because this is a Sheik, it’s obvious that they dress up like this to get in. When they get in, everyone is dressed normally, and they stand out. It’s a decision they made informed by racism and Orientalism, and it backfires to them. In a show of good faith, I like to think that this is critiquing past cultural disguises of the duo that have not aged well. This one from Scooby-Doo, Where Are You? (1970), Season 2, Episode 2, “Mystery Mask Mix-up” where they made this… choice. It reeks of Micky Rooney in Breakfast at Tiffany’s.

We have come a long way since 1970, obviously. The fact that the joke is how wrong and out-of-touch the two are to think the disguise would work shows that. However, acknowledging something does not excuse it. There were many ways they could have disguised themselves to get onto that boat. The fact they went for the racist one is the ultimate problem.

xXx

Before we get into the second aspect of your question, I need to be pedantic and point out a difference in our wording. In my tags, I said: “Not to mention that the entire universe it [SDMI] exists in exists because of HP Lovecraft.” Your question is: “And how does SDMI only exist because of HP Lovecraft?“ Why am I bringing this up?

Because wording matters here. Part of SDMI’s charm is that it takes from multiple different sources to create its universe. It is a love letter to horror as a whole. From Hellraiser to The Hills Have Eyes to Twilight Zone to Alien, SDMI pulls from these iconic pieces and puts them together into something that people can enjoy even without knowing the origins. To me, that’s fantastic! It’s part of why I love it. So much referential content relies on the audience having a background with what it is referencing. SDMI does not do that.

However, the difference between our two statements is that I am stating that SDMI is a genre piece, whereas your question is attributing everything to a singular person’s work. That simply is not what I was saying and, to me, seems like an argument in bad faith. My wording could have been clearer; I was attempting for brevity due to tags, and did not think that anyone would be going through my tags, as this is a small and pretty inactive rp blog. Whether the misquoting was intentional or not, it does point to a breakdown in communication.

With all that said, let us address how SDMI is an entry into the genre of Lovecraftian/cosmic horror, and what that means regarding the genre’s namesake.

xXx

H.P. Lovecraft (August 20, 1890 - March 15, 1937) was an American writer. I do not need to tell you at this point that he was a man with some very flawed ideologies (don’t google his cat’s name). He is best known for the Cthulhu mythos, and delved into ideas that were not common in horror at the time, which created an entirely new subgenre. Victorian and Naturalist horror at that time was very much grounded in the person: The Picture of Dorian Grey, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, The Hounds of Baskerville, Dracula. If we want to go into the themes that create the horror in these pieces, that is a whole different ball of wax, but do feel free to ask if you’re interested.

Lovecraft’s interests regarding horror were based on the unknown. The ever present “what if”. The uncertainties that manifested into things that were utterly terrible and terrifying. Yes, a lot of this was rooted in his xenophobic beliefs and sheltered lifestyle. One can argue that he got better as he grew older: his wife, Sonia Greene, was Jewish, and did help to alter his antisemitic beliefs. There are a lot of people who argue that Lovecraft’s beliefs were simply in line with the era he grew up in. If you ask me, I doubt it. Severely. As a society, we have a way of using hyperbole to try to show how much better things are currently than they used to be. While ideologies come and go, the idea that everyone before the Civil Rights movement were a monolith of Extreme White Racists just does more harm than good and dehumanizes our ancestors.

Anywho, once the subgenre picked up and more persons began to add to it, the name became less synonimous with Lovecraft himself and took on the name “cosmic horror”. I actually really like this title more, as it doesn’t restrict the subgenre to a singular person.

So, what does this have to do with SDMI? Let us look at the hallmarks of cosmic/Lovecraftian horror.

Per Wikipedia (yeah yeah, faliable source), Lovecraftian/cosmic horror “...emphasizes themes of cosmic dread, forbidden and dangerous knowledge, madness, non-human influences on humanity, religion and superstition, fate and inevitability, and the risks associated with scientific discoveries...”. Cosmic dread here means “the result of hyperawareness of our own minuscule nature within our universe” (Puzzlebox Horror).

Frankly, I cannot better summarize the core themes of SDMI’s ongoing plot better than that list, save to add “the power of friendship” onto the end.

In the realm of aesthetics, the color green also tends to get attributed to cosmic horror thanks to Lovecraft’s use of it specifically with Cthulhu. One of SDMI’s more striking visuals, to me, is the near- consistant use of a green wash or green backlight up until the final episode after Pericles is defeated and everything goes to “normal”, and then returns after the gang set off to Miskatonic University.

Which... we get to talk about Miskatonic University.

Remember how earlier I mentioned that SDMI does not require the watcher to know everything it references to understand the show, but certainly adds to the piece if you do? This is one of those moments where knowing what Miskatonic University is gives a whole new context to the work.

Prior to the team going, they speak with Harlan Ellison, who was not just a character in the show but an actual author of cosmic horror and is known best for his short story “I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream” (1967). He even voiced himself in the show. Harlan Ellison’s voicework in SDMI was one of the last things he did in film and tv before his death in 2014. Ellison puts a bookend explaination on the idea that multiple dimensions exist, multiple timelines, etc., which the show had been exploring in a Baby’s First Theoretical Physics sort of way. This itself has a place in cosmic horror, fitting in that “risks associated with scientific discoveries”, as they have changed everything they know thanks to destroying the Evil Entity that had been manipulating Crystal Cove, and it does fill them with a sense of cosmic dread.

Ellison afterwards states he has enrolled the four of them into Miskatonic University, the gang repaint the van, and tavel off to Arkham, MA.

Yes. That Arkham. The Batman one. This is where it came from.

Miskatonic University is a fictional institution created by H.P. Lovecraft, and a lot of his stories, as well as subsequent author’s creations, use it as a setting. It’s an Ivy League school, on par with Harvard and very popular with the Old Money of the area, as well as those interested in occult sciences.

From the Wikipedia:

Because of the name-dropping of Miskatonic University, the universe of SDMI outside of Crystal Cove is incredibly expandid upon. I honestly recommend just taking a look at the Wikipedia article just to see how many different pieces of media interset at Miskatonic University, and from there see what they are about, and what they delve into, because it is fascinating how that informs the universe that this show now exists in.

And that universe, whether we like it or not, started with H.P. Lovecraft.

xXx

It’s 2:46pm right now, meaning I have been working on this for almost four hours. I hope that this reply has answered your questions and informed you of the meaning behind my statements.

I invite you into my inbox should you have further questions, but do ask that you do so with respect and curiosity.

I hope this finds you well, and you have a wonderful day.

- xjinkiesx

#.ooc

8 notes · View notes

tallmantall · 1 year

Text

#JamesDonaldson On #MentalHealth – What Is Passive #SuicidalIdeation And How Can I Spot The Signs?

BY BONNIE EVIE GIFFORD What is it, why does it happen, and what signs should I be looking out for? We share everything you need to know about passive #suicidalideation Passive #suicidalideation is something that many of us experience, but few seriously talk about. Perhaps the thought has crossed your mind, “I wish I could just fall asleep and not wake up,” or “I wish I could die, so I don’t have to deal with this.” These are examples of passive #suicidalideation and, while they are not active plans, and often focus on ways in which someone may die rather than actively cause their own death (such as thoughts of death through an accident or natural causes, rather than #suicide), these thoughts can be not only worrying, but can lead to engaging in riskier #behavior without being conscious of it. #Suicidalideation isn’t an isolated event – it can be a symptom of other #mentalhealthissues, such as severe #depression, or manic #depression for those with a #bipolardisorder diagnosis. Here, we’ll explain more about the different types of #suicidalideation, warning signs to look out for, and, crucially, how to then find help. What’s the difference between passive and active #suicidalideation? Having #suicidalthoughts is a spectrum. For some people, these thoughts may be active: they think about #suicide, and may have developed a plan for what they will do. They want to die. For others, it may be passive: they wish they were dead or could die, but do not have any concrete plans. Neither kind of #suicidalideation should be dismissed. You are still at risk of harm if you have passive #suicidalthoughts. Intent and motivation can change quickly, meaning you may not feel at risk now, but that could change before you realise it or have time to seek help. Studies have suggested that if you experience high levels of #depression and suicidality, thoughts of passive and active ideation have the potential to become more severe and dangerous. Experiencing physical illness, a significant decline in your #mentalhealth, or an unpredictable event (losing your job, a particularly bad day, fighting with a loved one) could trigger your thoughts to become active. #James Donaldson notes:Welcome to the “next chapter” of my life… being a voice and an advocate for #mentalhealthawarenessandsuicideprevention, especially pertaining to our younger generation of students and student-athletes.Getting men to speak up and reach out for help and assistance is one of my passions. Us men need to not suffer in silence or drown our sorrows in alcohol, hang out at bars and strip joints, or get involved with drug use.Having gone through a recent bout of #depression and #suicidalthoughts myself, I realize now, that I can make a huge difference in the lives of so many by sharing my story, and by sharing various resources I come across as I work in this space. #http://bit.ly/JamesMentalHealthArticleOrder your copy of James Donaldson's latest book,#CelebratingYourGiftofLife:From The Verge of Suicide to a Life of Purpose and Joy www.celebratingyourgiftoflife.com How many people experience passive #suicidalideation? Passive #suicidalthoughts are more common than many of us realise. Worldwide, around 9% of us will experience suicidal ideation at some point in our lives. Within the past 12 months, that sat at around 2%. One US study found that 4% of #adults aged 18 and over have thought about #suicide, with those aged 18–25 the most likely to have had such thoughts within the past 12 months. As of 2020, around 10 in every 100,000 deaths were contributed to #suicide in England. For #men, that rate was much higher (15.3 per 100,000) compared to #women (4.9 per 100,000). #Men aged 45–49 have the highest #suicide rate (23.8 per 100,000). Worldwide, the #WorldHealthOrganization estimates that one in every 100 deaths is a result of #suicide. All this to say, #suicide is something that has touched many lives, and it’s something that we need to take seriously. Are some people at more risk than others? While #men are three times more likely to complete #suicide, research suggests that #women show higher rates of #suicidal thinking, non-fatal #suicidalbehavior, and #suicideattempts. You may be at higher risk for #suicidalideations if: - You have a personal history of #mentalillness (particularly #depression, #bipolardisorder, or other mood-based disorders). - There is a family history of #mentalillness (#suicidalthoughts or attempts, #depression). - You have experienced substance addiction. - You have a history of abuse, or have experienced significant #trauma. - You exhibit impulsive #behaviors or increased aggression. - You have a physical illness. - You have experienced a major loss (death of a close friend or family member). - You have limited access to healthcare or a support network. Could I be suicidal and not realise it? Sometimes people can struggle to recognise warning signs of #suicidalthoughts or #behaviors. Signs that people often overlook can include: - Feelings of being empty, hopeless, or like you have no way out of your problems. - Strong feelings of guilt or shame. - Believing that others would be better off without you. - Becoming withdrawn or isolated socially. - Unexplained changes in how you sleep (e.g. struggling to get out of bed, sleeping more, sleeping less, staying up all night then struggling to cope the next day). - Becoming emotionally distant from others (e.g. seeming indifferent when faced with emotional situations like the loss of a pet, or when receiving particularly good or bad news). Do passive #suicidalthoughts need to be treated? Seeking help and advice is recommended. Speaking with your GP can be the first step towards getting a full assessment and diagnosis. This can help you to access the right kind of help and support, better understand what may have led to you feeling this way, and find new ways of coping with these feelings, and addressing any triggers. Experiencing any level of desire for death can lead you to unconsciously act in a way that may be riskier to your health and wellbeing. Even when passive #suicidalthoughts remain passive, they suggest a level of unhappiness and discontent in your life, and risk negatively impacting your overall wellbeing and quality of life. Reaching out for help is the first step to overcoming these thoughts and feelings. You don’t have to live with these thoughts, and you also don’t have to face them alone. How do you overcome passive #suicidalideation? There are a number of options that may be recommended, depending on your circumstances, symptoms, and what services are available in your local area. Speak with your GP Talking with your GP is often the first step towards getting a referral for specialist #mentalhealthservices in your area, as well as talking through any medication options that may be worth considering. They may highlight local support groups you could access. Medication For some people, your GP may prescribe antidepressants or anti-#anxiety medication to help decrease symptoms while you are working through the underlying causes that are triggering your thoughts in therapy. Talking therapy Counselling (therapy) is often highly recommended, as this can help you to identify the complex issues that may be causing the way you are feeling, help you to understand your thoughts and feelings better, as well as introduce you to new ways to manage your thoughts in a more productive or useful way. #Dialecticalbehaviortherapy (#DBT) in particular can be helpful for those experiencing #suicidalthoughts, as it uses acceptance and change techniques that can help you better understand why you’re feeling this way, and what you can do to help yourself. Other types of therapy may also be suggested, such as #cognitivebehavioraltherapy (#CBT). Peer support Talking with others who have had similar experiences can be a huge help. Reaching out to find online support networks can be the easiest way of doing this, or there may be support groups in your area. Create a safety plan Typically suggested for when you have active #suicidalthoughts, it can be helpful to have one in place just in case. A safety plan may include listing any warning signs you or others can look out for, writing down coping strategies that could help, as well as listing the contact details for who you want to be contacted in the case of an emergency. Ensuring you know the steps you need to take to keep yourself safe can help you to feel more prepared if your thoughts do take a concerning turn. Speak with your loved ones Talking to your friends and family can help you to better understand how you are feeling, as well as to let them know that you are struggling. If you are worried that your thoughts or feelings may have been causing you to withdraw from others, this can be a helpful way to reach back out again to them. What can I do if a loved one is experiencing passive #suicidalideations? If you’re worried about someone, one of the most important things you can do is listen to them, without accidental judgement, or minimising how they are feeling – ask questions, and ensure they know that you are there to offer support. Don’t promise to keep their #suicidalideation a secret. Doing so can not only harm their trust in others if you do need to speak out and seek help on their behalf, but it may also make you hesitate. Encourage them to seek help, but avoid pushing them before they are ready. Offer to drive them or go with them if they feel worried about going alone. If you are concerned about their immediate safety, call 999 or take them directly to A&E. If you are worried about your immediate safety, go to the nearest A&E department, call 999 if you can’t get to a hospital, or ask someone to call 999 or take you to the hospital. If you just want to talk to someone or feel like A&E isn’t an option, you can call the Samaritans on 116 123 and someone will be there to listen without judgement, 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. To find out more about the signs and symptoms of #suicidalthoughts, how they can make you feel, and how you can access help, visit Counselling Directory or speak to a qualified #counsellor. Read the full article

0 notes

greeneyusuf65 · 1 year

Text

how to download ms office 2016

When I tell men and women that the easiest way to earn a significant income on the internet is to create their own product or service, the first thing I hear is, "But I can't afford all the stuff I need to create something." Well, believe it or not, it doesn't take lots of money create an informational product. Like a matter of fact, you can create one for close to nothing. This article is for you to show you HOW cheap it is always to actually create your own informational product. What house told you that you can keep your precious money in your wallet and still do (almost) everything that can do with ms office with no charge -- as in zilch, nada and not one thing? A good way to make sure you understand why is read through it from the company policy manual. That literally brings us one more good question; "Do own a policy manual? Am i allowed to read it?" It is important that the company possess a policy guideline. If they do not, the broker just compensates the rules as each along. It will be significant that offer a policy but ask the broker "Do a person the authority to make exceptions?" Brokers and sales managers like for that believe to be real . rules are cast in concrete that could not be excepted. Anything can be changed or excepted. The next option would be our local bookstore. Many books are full of terms and examples that you'll never going to use in real life. What you require is straight for the point, jargon free reasons. You are only going to get confused if sidetracked with no shortage of non relevant material. These guys aren't happy with just plodding through time. They have organized their day with such precision provides them time work on stuff there isn't enjoy. They produced results because they dedicated in order to MS project training. MS project training has helped them to determine the top of the mountain so once they started climbing they just kept on climbing. While much importantly they packed whichever needed in their bag, they carried a pick and rope to sometimes pull themselves up or hold themselves from. MS project training was their vital piece of exercise machines. Office 2007 and 2010 use something called the Ribbon. This essentially took the host to menus and toolbars in the past versions of Office. If you are coming from a previous version make use of getting to grips more than Ribbon takes time. Some like it, some don't. But it surely is an extremely important component to learn in the newer types. The conversion is now complete and my Windows computer been recently shut down for optimistic. In conclusion I found the overall conversion experience was superb. I am finally getting used to your iMac interface and probably do 75% of my work under MAC Os in this handset. However, ms office Activation Code question the conversion cost (approximately $3,500) understand how it still trying to find the productivity gains.

#MS OFFICE

0 notes

atelierwriting · 4 years

Note

idk if it's just me but as someone who's asian, the amount of "asian wips" by white creators rubs me the wrong way bc while representation is important, a lot of them tend to gravitate towards asian fetishization when it comes to their aesthetics and idk... it just doesn't feel as genuine.

i want to preface it by saying a few things. first: i am asian american, second/third generation, depending on who you ask. second: i am not gatekeeping asian wips. as i said in the conclusion, all i am asking is that you respect the culture, stay away from stereotypes, and don’t use it simply because it would have “interesting/pretty” vibes.

i have a lot of opinions about this, so let’s break it all down.

poc representation is important

fine line of fetishization

the big loud sentence i keep repeating about this issue is that YOU CANNOT PICK AND CHOOSE WHAT YOU LIKE FROM A CULTURE THAT IS NOT YOURS

an explanation about the big loud sentence i keep repeating

conclusion

more under the cut. warning: very long post. (another sidenote: this is all just applicable to writeblr wips, but i might have gotten carried away)

tagging @mitskism!

1. poc representation is important

this is a given. i’m sure you heard of how, when growing up, we couldn’t find people who looked like us in books, shows, and movies. we couldn’t find stories that really resonated with us and touched upon the same struggles we were facing within our own cultures. with all this said and done, poc representation is so incredibly important because media is what helps people understand and shape their identity. media teaches people because of how it proliferates.

the feeling of finally seeing a character that you can relate to is unlike any other, but imagine that feeling when that is the only character who resembles you in any way. imagine seeing the characters that look like you, behave like you, and identify the same way as you being constantly used as a stepping stone for the main character--who, decidedly, does not look like you or behave like you or identify the same way as you. in fact, that main character looks like every other main character out there.

that’s not the representation you want. you want stories about people like you. success stories, stories where they’re the ones who achieve their goals and get that happily ever after. but there is so little of that out there that it’s like searching for a needle in a haystack.

so yes, poc representation is important.

of course, poc representation isn’t the only important representation out there. but representation has to be done right.

2. fine line of fetishization

what is fetishization? i think the anon here says it very well: gravitating towards a certain aesthetic without really acknowledging where it came from or the history that comes from it. all in all, though, fetishization of a culture is taking things at face value from a culture is not yours, without any real understanding of what those things are or if it’s even respectful of you to take.

i wrote a whole paper recently on colonialism, imperialism, and the idea of the white man’s burden and the problems of white saviors. there’s a recurring theme in history that i’ve noticed: taking things from other cultures and turning it into the next great thing, when it wasn’t even theirs to begin with.

but that’s a completely different topic.

the thing about fetishization in writeblr wips--particularly that of asian fetishization, since that’s the topic of the ask--is that it can be hard to pick out. you might get this vaguest feeling that something’s off about the wip, but not have any concrete proof to back it up. so where can the line be drawn? that’s hard to say. the line between giving representation and fetishization is incredibly thin, but i’d say answering the following question is a good point to start.

1. why is this character/setting/etc asian?

if the answer to this question is because it looks good, or because you like the aesthetics, that is fetishization. of course, you have to consider this as well: whether or not you are asian yourself and if you have done the proper research.

subtopic: the fetishization of asian culture

i’m sure you’ve seen this around: things that take on an asian-like aesthetic simply for the thrill of resembling something from an asian culture. it’s the stereotype of submissive asian women and yellow fever. it’s the usage of random asian-sounding character names in wips. i’m not going to delve too deep into this because i have discussion in 20 minutes.

asian culture hasn’t been seen as something “attractive” until recently. even now, people still look down at asian people as the Other, an unidentifiable other race--or maybe an entire other species--that is inferior to the western world. growing up in america, asian kids had to divorce themselves from their culture in order to assimilate. and now, suddenly, the culture that their classmates sneered at is aesthetic. it’s desired. it’s acceptable now.

asian culture is made out to be a hot commodity, and that’s not right. you can’t make an entire culture a commodity. this brings me to my next point.

3. the big loud sentence i keep repeating about this issue is that YOU CANNOT PICK AND CHOOSE WHAT YOU LIKE FROM A CULTURE THAT IS NOT YOURS

YOU CANNOT PICK AND CHOOSE WHAT YOU LIKE FROM A CULTURE THAT IS NOT YOURS.

4. an explanation about the big loud sentence i keep repeating

the culture isn’t yours. it never will be yours before it is ours. and i’m sorry about how heavy that sounds but it’s true. you cannot pick and choose what you want from a culture with such a long history of its own. you cannot put up an image of a rising red sun because it fits the aesthetic of a wip page, along with images of other commonly depicted asian symbols, without acknowledging that the rising red sun has been used as a symbol for japanese imperialism.

(i’m bringing up this example because of this and also there’s. a lot to unpack in the history of japan and other asian countries)

5. conclusion

what i’m getting at is that you can do asian wips, if you respect the culture, stay away from stereotypes, and don’t use it simply because it would have “interesting/pretty” vibes.

#tris responds #anon #i'm very scared to put this post out there #i don't like to talk much about it here #idk as a minority and a person who's used to being talked over my entire life #i'm always scared to pitch in my two cents #v v important this is my opinion

595 notes · View notes

ladyonfire28 · 4 years

Photo

Came back from my little break for that new article ! Here is the translation of Adèle and Aïssa’s interview for Libération. It’s a very long, but very interesting one. So i recommend to read it. There may be a lot of incoherencies so please tell me if something doesn’t make sense !

Aïssa Maïga and Adèle Haenel : «Finally there’s something political happening»

They stood up together at the César and have since been striving to invent a common front against all forms of discrimination. For "Libération", actresses Adèle Haenel and Aïssa Maïga retrace the journey of generational awareness.

Some kind of symbol. A large mural, in tribute to George Floyd, a 46-year-old black American who died on 25 May when he was arrested by a white policeman, and to Adama Traoré, who died at the age of 24 on the floor of the "caserne de Persan" (Val-d'Oise) following an arrest in 2016, was painted at the beginning of the week on the façade of a building in the 10th arrondissement of Paris. Close by, the Adama Committee organized a press conference on Tuesday. Words, demands and the announcement of a new march to fight against police violence. It takes place this Saturday in the capital, from the Place de la République to the Place de l'Opéra. The organizers dream of seeing a huge crowd come together. This demonstration comes at the heart of a tense period. Young people are demanding answers and action, while many police officers feel that the Minister of the Interior is letting his troops down in the face of the scolding.

In the street, we will find associations, politicians and many people. Adèle Haenel and Aïssa Maïga will be there. Not a first. They were already present on June 2nd at the rally in front of the Paris high court. The actresses didn't really know each other before the last César ceremony, marked by the speech of one and the shattering departure of the other. Since then, they have never left each other. Both describe the moment as a "turning point". The fights converge.

When the idea of a cross-exchange came on the table to put words to their commitments, they did not hesitate. On Thursday, in a roadstead near Belleville, Adèle Haenel arrived first, followed by Aïssa Maïga. They are not of the same generation, the journeys and paths are different. The styles too. The one who got up at the announcement of the prize awarded to Polanski goes up and down, talks with her body. The one who, at the same ceremony, invited to count the black people in the room appears calmer, stays seated on her chair, speaks in a low voice. Adèle Haenel and Aïssa Maïga complement each other.

From where are you speaking?

Adèle Haenel: I speak from my personal political background, rooted in feminism, a background that is shaken by the worldwide movement around police violence and by the French movement around the Adama Committee. I would say that taking charge of my own history has given me the ability to deal with other broader issues that do not immediately affect me. I'm talking about a kind of political awakening. This desire to show my support for the families of the victims, for the political movement against racism and police violence in France, and for the actors who take a stand. I'm thinking of Omar Sy, Camélia Jordana and you, Aïssa.

Aïssa Maïga: This intersectional awakening evoked by Adèle is a place where I have been for a long time without necessarily being able to name it. For a long time, the racial question in cinema was so pervasive in my life that it cannibalized everything else. I felt that it was less difficult to be a woman, in a world that discriminates women, than it was to be a black woman. The work done by Afrofeminists in France and abroad put the words in my mouth that I didn't have because I didn't have that heritage. I am speaking from a place that is on the move and that is not made up of certainties, that is made of interrogations, especially about the fact that I can implement changes on my own scale. And I'm also speaking from a place that is purely civic and is tinged with various influences. I didn't grow up in a poor suburb, I didn't live in financial precariousness, I come from a rather intellectual middle class, it gave me certain tools, and yet I haven't escaped this very French thing, a soft racism, rarely seen but which is haunting... because it's omnipresent.

Why did you get involved with the Adama Committee?

A.M.: Because this is a fight for justice. It was Assa Traoré who came to meet me during the release of the collective book Noire n'est pas mon métier ("Black is not my job"). I knew her from afar, I knew her struggle, and she appeared. The support became obvious and it has really taken shape in the last few months. I was immediately impressed by this woman, her quiet strength, and this ability to forge a bond, to think of her family drama in political terms. Her voice matters. She's not just an icon: she allows a movement to emerge.

A.H.: For me, it's even more recent, I had to go through a problem that was going through me, that involved my body in discrimination in order to mingle with other injustices. I was listening to what Assa Traoré was saying and I was struck by her determination and intelligence. But it is only very recently that I also became physically aware that I could not fail to support this woman and the whole fight against police violence and racism, in the same way that I am taking up the fight for feminism and against sexual violence. I can't have it two-tiered.

On June 2nd, more than 20,000 people gathered in front of the High Court of Paris, at the request of the Adama Committee. An unprecedented turnout, with many young people, why?

A.M.: The Adama Committee saw very well the link between George Floyd's drama and their own. The death of Adama Traoré, choked under three gendarmes, was materialized before our eyes with the unbearable images of Floyd's death. The French youth who look at these images cannot fail to make the connection, it is obvious. There is also a form of accessible activism that is developing via social networks. Activists will involve others through simple, accessible sentences: if you are not a POC, you are still involved, it is your responsibility to listen and take an active part, at your level, in the fight for equality. There is also the idea that we need to establish a link between police violence, the racism that can be found in other social spaces, the issue of gender equality, the environment, and the urgency of dealing with these problems now. There is also a form of anxiety among young people: they are told that in fifty years' time there will be no more water. And finally the feeling of injustice, which is omnipresent and linked to the circulation of images on social networks. Police violence follows one after the other, and this creates an accumulation effect. It is not just a dogmatic political vision, but a reality that is lived or perceived as real.

A.H.: There is a turning point in the effectiveness of the movement as well. This feeling carried by Assa Traoré that we are powerful. It's not just ideas that go around the world, it's ideas that make the world happen. It gives hope and responsibility to a whole generation.

During Aïssa's speech at the Césars, in which she confronts the profession with the near-invisibility of actors, filmmakers and producers from French overseas territories and African and Asian immigrants in French cinema, you are in the room, Adèle. You don't know each other yet. Do you understand her speech immediately?

A.H.: It's obvious, but it's not immediate, it takes a little time to understand the extent of the racist mechanism when you, yourself, haven't been forced to see how it works. I was brought back to particular assignments, but not to this one. So it takes a long time before it becomes unbearable evidence. When Aïssa takes the floor, it's courageous because the room is very cold and it's making it even colder. I thought it was funny and I thought "finally, something political is happening".

Did you both understand that people find it violent to count black people in the room, and even that they might find it paradoxical to split the audience?

A.M.: Counting isn't splitting, it's measuring the gap between us and equality. When it comes to inequality, to be blind to color is to be blind to the social burdens that come from our history and the imagination that flows from it. I am fighting for art and culture to deconstruct racial fictions. In our field, cinema, there is a tendency to believe that when a few exceptions appear, the problem of racial discrimination is solved. I do not think that my presence, that of Omar Sy, Ladj Ly or Frédéric Chau, Leïla Bekhti, for example, however gifted they may be, exonerates French cinema from an examination of conscience. There is always an over-representation of people perceived as non-white in roles with negative connotations - and it's not me saying this, it's the CSA, through its diversity barometer. There are still too few opportunities for younger people, who today in 2020 deplore what I deplored when I was starting out. Still too few non-whites behind the camera and almost no one in decision-making positions. I started this job when I was 20 years old. I am 45. A generation, not a few exceptions, should have risen. It hasn't. And it's unbearable as a citizen, a mother and an artist.

At the César ceremony, I deliberately used a inflammable symbol. If we refuse to measure differences in access to opportunities in terms of racial discrimination, perhaps we are accepting the status quo. Today, we need concrete action by decision-makers and numerical targets in order to measure progress. A few personal successes, however brilliant they may be, cannot justify the violence of large-scale unequal treatment.

A.H.: The substance of what Aïssa said to the César is relevant, it speaks to the moment, and being shocking has the virtue of awakening. The criticisms that followed were "I agree but"... In fact, it means that even when the substance is right, the form is never the right one. It's a form of censorship, there are people who have the right to speak and others who don't.

A.M.: Allowing oneself to express anger head-on is taboo because we are actresses and we are supposed to preserve the desire that others project on us. And also because it highlights the precarious nature of this profession: are you able to overcome your fear, to express your opinion, with the risk of losing something?

A.H.: From my point of view, that of a white woman - forgive me for putting myself in this position, but it's still unfortunately an assignment - I see that when I spoke about what happened to me personally, I received a lot of support, especially from people who are not especially on our side. However, as soon as I spoke up, politically, to say that giving the prize to a rapist fleeing from justice was an insult, all of a sudden I was really overstepping what I was entitled to do, what I could interfere in...

Do you think there's a "white privilege"?

A.M.: Words are so tricky...

A.H.: When Virginie Despentes uses the term "white privilege", it's a bit related to Aïssa's gesture when she counts the black people in the room. It's a question of pointing out, by calling up words that should be those of the past, the gap between the evolution of universalist ideals and the facts of manifest exclusion at work. Provocation points out this flaw and invites us to close it.

Is there state racism?

A.M.: I don't know about "state" racism, it would have to be written into the laws to say that. The right word is systemic: it means that there is something that does not allow for real equality, something in the established rules that allows a small number of people to discriminate without being worried. What also raises the question is the inertia of the state in the face of the continuation of systemic inequalities.

From what you say, we are at a turning point in the struggle against racial, gender, social and other forms of discrimination...

A.M.: I felt the turning point in 2018 with #MeToo, Time's Up, and when I saw all these women from such diverse backgrounds (in the streets) after Trump's election. It was an image I had never seen before in my generation. It was in the United States, and yet something happened to me in France, because I had been dreaming of this convergence for a long time. I'm not here to defend my chapel. I'm not going to be satisfied with a breakthrough if blacks have more roles while Arabs and Asians are still in a degraded situation in French cinema. The convergence I'm talking about didn't quite take place at the time of #MeToo, which quickly became a white women's movement in my eyes. In French cinema, there is also the "50-50 for 2020" movement [collective for parity and inclusion founded in 2018, editor's note] that I saw coming like the guerrilla movement we had been waiting for for a long time, pragmatic, quick, positively impatient, very constructive. The work done in favor of parity is colossal. On the other hand, I regret that diversity is the next program. But it cannot be the next program for me, that is the mistake. I've talked about it very openly, and frankly in a fairly relaxed way with some of them.

A.H.: Much more relaxed than I was, by the way!

A.M.: And then I said to myself that the battles are progressing on different levels and that we're going to have to find some kind of alignment. The fight for women's rights is not just a women's issue, it's a men's issue, just as the fight against racism is not just about POC. And it wasn't until 2020 and the murder of George Floyd that there were those voices, especially white voices, that said, "This is my problem too." Including in France, where this awakening of consciousness is made possible by the work done by the families of victims of police violence.

A.H.: In my political journey so far, I had forgotten to understand the places where I am not just in a situation of domination. I am also, as a white woman who is not in a precarious position, in a dominant position in certain aspects. Understanding that, feeling that, is essential. My political agenda was focused on feminism, and I didn't realize that it was implicitly white feminism, unintentionally excluding. What Aïssa says seems fundamental to me: the agenda that would order one cause after another is not conceivable and leads to inertia. It leagues us against each other in identity issues that are sterile, since they reiterate the terms of oppression. This is a major issue in the effectiveness of political struggles: how can we mobilize without reiterating the categorization we are fighting against? This implies understanding that there is a deep articulation between all systems of domination and that there is a need to defend these causes in a cross-cutting manner.

Aïssa's speech on June 2nd, during the demonstration initiated by the Adama Committee, called for a fair, dignified and positive representation of minorities in the media. But who can judge what is dignified and fair? Only the ones who are affected ?

A.H.: Today, in France, female characters in films are implicitly white women: I have a much wider range of possible jobs than that offered to a black actress. But in my field of so-called universal women, very often, women are offered satellite roles around male characters. These roles take up what is considered to be the normal white female nature, of restraint and reification. What appears natural here is a cultural construction of identity that is done precisely through stories. This is one of the reasons why the political stakes of representations in the cinema are so important.

Is this a criterion for assessing or rejecting a work? What should be done with existing works that have been reassessed as problematic?

A.H.: Works must be recontextualized. They are not created out of nowhere, out of time. Let's question them! That doesn't mean that we stop watching them, but that we ask ourselves what their political substratum is and what they convey. Questioning representations is a sign of vitality. And that does not mean that we would no longer have the right to see these works.

A.M.: With this waltz of statues of slavery figures in the United States or in the French overseas departments at the moment, the citizens gives their answer. Either the work must be contextualized, in a museum or in a place with a historical explanatory note, or it must stand out.

Is it women, more willingly than men, who carry this convergence of fights ?

A.M.: I feel a change in the scale of our lives, a major turning point in the way we perceive each other and allow ourselves to hybridize in these battles. Regarding the massive presence of women from cinema in front of the High Court on June 2, I wonder. In particular about my own capacity to build bridges... while guaranteeing the visibility of the fights against discrimination against women or POC. How do we ensure that the fight against discrimination, for equality and equity, is as visible as the rest? I am not at all sure how to do this. But it has to be done. When, the day after the César, I received a text message from Adèle, even though we don't know each other, and she writes to me to say "I heard you. I'm here. Let's meet", it can be as simple as that.

Why did you send that text?

A.H.: Because of the solitude in this room. And the brave gesture of saying what she said on stage. We'd met the same evening and maybe I hadn't caught the moment, I was captivated by our own event... That is, what had happened after we'd, let's say..., gone to get our coats a bit earlier in the dressing room... (Aïssa Maïga laughs) And I thought, let's not forget the constructed gesture, the political intentionality of Aïssa in there. I wanted to get closer to her courage. So I think that we shouldn't talk about masculinity by saying "men", that we should consider masculinity as a field of organization of power with its own complexities, and its intersectional repercussions. I refer to Angela Davis' book, Women, Race & Class, on the issue of the difficult articulation between the civil rights movement in the United States and the emerging white feminist movements where there was a lot of racism. Why don't we think of ourselves as spontaneous and necessary allies between categories of discrimination, racial, social and gendered? We need to take the history of this division seriously in order to work on it and overcome it. As Assa Traoré does in an ultra-intelligent way when she says "Whatever your religion, your sexual orientation, wherever you come from, whatever your skin color". It is an invitation to self-criticism of our own movement. This is my discovery at the beginning of this year: the self-criticism of my history as a white feminist.

When you get up during the César, is it thoughtful or impulsive?

A.H.: This award was a claim to the right to do whatever you want as long as you are at the top. That is to say: rich white men who don't feel concerned when we talk about violence. What it means beyond sexual violence is that there are people to whom repressive laws do not apply. It's as if the police and the laws shouldn't act against them, but around them... And that's what you feel in that moment in the room. What happened on César night was a dissolution of the status quo. Now it's either you stay in the room or you don't stay in the room.

A.M.: And it was important to be there at the César, because I read a lot about boycotting that evening, but for me there was no question of backing out. A boycott is not just staying at home behind your television, not being there without anyone really noticing. It was important to say that the home of cinema is also our home, our space, our place of expression. We are in a position to speak out and for that to have the virtue of provoking discussion. When that person wins that award, it's the time of the turkey, where someone praises the rapist grandfather, when everyone knows. And you're breathless, you can't move, time becomes elastic, everything is extremely heavy, it's unreal. You enter another dimension. And the fact that a person manages to regain possession of time, to become master of their time and master of their body by standing up and saying no, it put oxygen back in, it woke us up. Adèle and I looked at each other two or three times during the evening, we knew we were together. There was something like a physical experience. We boarded the ship together.

We're spotting the allies.

A.M.: That's right. And time returned to normal when Adèle, Céline Sciamma and others, including me, got up. It was a coherent political gesture in which many people recognized themselves.

Do you think that your political positions, formalized at the César, can have an impact on your career?

A.M.: The question is how do you break a family secret? Festen is one of my favorite films. (Laughs) I wasn't born at the time of the 2020 César, it's the result of a personal journey and a legacy. Others before me have spoken, for example Luc Saint-Eloy and Calixthe Beyala on the same issues at the Césars in 2000. When Canal + and the César invited me to come and give an award, I said "yes, but I want complete freedom". Blowing up a family secret is a movement for self-liberation, it's an essential meeting with yourself. Choosing to be on the side of silence, of the status quo and therefore of injustices with full knowledge of the facts is something I was quite incapable of doing. The consequences for one's profession are not that one doesn't care, but spitting out what one has to say is a top priority. The question of what it is going to cost behind it is resolved by the feeling of freeing the word, provoking debate, making a generational contribution to the fight for equality, which in essence concerns us all. I have an appointment with myself around 60, 65, the age when my children will be about the same age as I am today. There is something about transmission. I want to be able to look at myself in the mirror. I don't want to tell myself that I haven't taken advantage of my little privilege of being a POC exception in French cinema to the detriment of all those young people I meet on the street, who aren't white and who say to me with fear in their stomachs, "Do you think I can still do this job?"

What about you, Adèle?

A.H.: The message that was sent to me very clearly by a casting director is that I will never work again. Obviously, this person was very sure of himself, since he wrote it in print capital letters about a dozen times. What do you say when you ask for respect and silence? They say, "Don't speak out politically because it's not your role". But also: "Don't take the lead artistically either because you're an actress, you have to follow the genius of your director". This whole structure is part of this culture where you shouldn't listen to yourself but to submit. I don't know what the consequences will be for my job. What is certain is that I will never regret it. We did something that night that freed the voices of a lot of people. That is worth much more than all the threats to my career, which in any case is always fragile, because it is a precarious environment. If I totally respected the rules and said, "Yes, yes, you have to separate the man from the artist", that wouldn't stop me from being able to get out of the game. It's as much about inventing one's life as trying to open up the future.

Written by Cécile Daumas , Rachid Laïreche and Sandra Onana. Photo by Lucile Boiron

#adèle haenel #aïssa maïga #adele haenel #aissa maiga #portrait of a lady on fire #that was a very great read #can i just say i gasped when aïssa mentioned Festen #it's an incredible movie !!!#portrait de la jeune fille en feu #libération #sometimes i translate things #long text #black lives matter #blm

947 notes · View notes

jeannereames · 3 years

Note

Hi, Dr. Reames! I just read your take on Song of Achilles and it got me thinking. Do you think there might be a general issue with the way women are written in mlm stories in general? Because I don't think it's the first time I've seen something like this happen.

And my next question is, could you delve further into this thing you mention about modern female authors writing women? How could we, beginner female writers, avoid falling into this awful representations of women in our writing?

Thank you for your time!

[It took a while to finish this because I wrote, re-wrote, and re-wrote it. Still not sure I like it, but I need to let it go. It could be 3xs as long.]

I’ll begin with the second half of the question, because it’s simpler. How do we, as women authors, avoid writing women in misogynistic ways?

Let me reframe that as how can we, as female authors, write negative (even quite nasty) female characters without falling into misogynistic tropes? Also, how can we write unsympathetic, but not necessarily “bad” female characters, without it turning misogynistic?

Because people are people, not genders, not all women are good, nor all men bad. Most of us are a mix. If we should avoid assuming powerful women are all bitches, by the same token, some women are bitches (powerful or not).

ALL good characterization comes down to MOTIVE. And careful characterization of minority characters involves fair REPRESENTATION. (Yes, women are a minority even if we’re 51% of the population.)

The question ANY author must ask: why am I making this female character a bitch? How does this characterization serve the larger plot and/or characterization? WHY is she acting this way?

Keep characters complex, even the “bad guys.” Should we choose to make a minority character a “bad guy,” we need to have a counter example—a real counter, not just a token who pops in briefly, then disappears. Yeah, maybe in an ideal world we could just let our characters “be,” but this isn’t an ideal world. Authors do have an audience. I’m a lot less inclined to assume stereotyping when we have various minority characters with different characterizations.

By the same token, however, don’t throw a novel against the wall if the first minority character is negative. Read further to decide if it’s a pattern. I’ve encountered reviews that slammed an author for stereotyping without the reader having finished the book. I’m thinking, “Uh…if you’d read fifty more pages….” Novels have a developmental arc. And if you’ve got a series, that, too, has a developmental arc. One can’t reach a conclusion about an author’s ultimate presentation/themes until having finished the book, or series.*

Returning to the first question, the appearance of misogyny depends not only on the author, but also on when she wrote, even why she’s writing. Authors who are concerned with matters such as theme and message are far more likely to think about such things than those who write for their own entertainment and that of others, which is more typical of Romance.

On average, Romance writers are a professionalized bunch. They have national and regional chapters of the Romance Writers of America (RWA), newsletters and workshops that discuss such matters as building plot tension, character dilemmas, show don’t tell, research tactics, etc. Yet until somewhat recently (early/mid 2010s), and a series of crises across several genres (not just Romance), treatment of minority groups hadn’t been in their cross-hairs. Now it is, with Romance publishers (and publishing houses more generally) picking up “sensitivity readers” in addition to the other editors who look at a book before its publication.

Yet sensitivity readers are hired to be sure lines like “chocolate love monkey” do not show up in a published novel. Yes, that really was used as an endearment for a black man in an M/M Romance, which (deservedly) got not just the author but the publishing house in all sorts of hot water. Yet misogyny, especially more subtle misogyny in the way of tropes, is rarely on the radar.

I should add that I wouldn’t categorize The Song of Achilles as an M/M historical Romance. In fact, I’m not sure what to call novels about myths, as myths don’t exist in actual historical periods. When should we set a novel about the Iliad? The Bronze Age, when Homer said it happened, or the Greek Dark Age, which is the culture Homer actually described? They’re pretty damn different. I’d probably call The Song of Achilles an historical fantasy, especially as mythical creatures are presented as real, like centaurs and god/desses.

Back to M/M Romance: I don’t have specific publishing stats, but it should surprise no one that (like most of the Romance genre), the vast bulk of authors of M/M Romance are women, often straight and/or bi- women. The running joke seems to be, If one hot man is good, two hot men together are better. 😉 Yes, there are also trans, non-binary and lesbian authors of M/M Romance, and of course, bi- and gay men who may write under their own name or a female pseudonym, but my understanding is that straight and bi- cis-women authors outnumber all of them.

Just being a woman, or even a person in a female body, does not protect that author from misogyny. And if she’s writing for fun, she may not be thinking a lot about what her story has to “say” in its subtext and motifs, even if she may be thinking quite hard about other aspects of story construction. This can be true of other genres as well (like historical fantasy).

What I have observed for at least some women authors is the unconscious adoption of popular tropes about women. Just as racism is systemic, so is sexism. We swim in it daily, and if one isn’t consciously considering how it affects us, we can buy into it by repeating negative ideas and acting in prescribed ways because that’s what we learned growing up. If writing in a symbol-heavy genre such as mythic-driven fantasy, it can be easy to let things slip by—even if they didn’t appear in the original myth, such as making Thetis hostile to Patroklos, the classic Bitchy Mother-in-Law archetype.

I see this sort of thing as “accidental” misogyny. Women authors repeat unkind tropes without really thinking them through because it fits their romantic vision. They may resent it and get defensive if the trope is pointed out. “Don’t harsh my squee!” We can dissect why these tropes persist, and to what degree they change across generations—but that would end up as a (probably controversial) book, not a blog entry. 😊

Yet there’s also subconscious defensive misogyny, and even conscious/semi-conscious misogyny.

Much debate/discussion has ensued regarding “Queen Bee Syndrome” in the workplace and whether it’s even a thing. I think it is, but not just for bosses. I also would argue that it’s more prevalent among certain age-groups, social demographics, and professions, which complicates recognizing it.

What is Queen Bee Syndrome? Broadly, when women get ahead at the expense of their female colleagues who they perceive as rivals, particularly in male-dominated fields, hinging on the notion that There Can Be Only One (woman). It arises from systemic sexism.

Yes, someone can be a Queen Bee even with one (or two) women buddies, or while claiming to be a feminist, supporting feminist causes, or writing feminist literature. I’ve met a few. What comes out of our mouths doesn’t necessarily jive with how we behave. And ticking all the boxes isn’t necessary if you’re ticking most of them. That said, being ambitious, or just an unpleasant boss/colleague—if its equal opportunity—does not a Queen Bee make. There must be gender unequal behavior involved.

What does any of that have to do with M/M fiction?

The author sees the women characters in her novel as rivals for the male protagonists. It gets worse if the women characters have some “ownership” of the men: mothers, sisters, former girlfriends/wives/lovers. I know that may sound a bit batty. You’re thinking, Um, aren’t these characters gay or at least bi- and involved with another man, plus—they’re fictional? Doesn’t matter. Call it fantasizing, authorial displacement, or gender-flipped authorial insert. We authors (and I include myself in this) can get rather territorial about our characters. We live in their heads and they live in ours for months on end, or in many cases, years. They’re real to us. Those who aren't authors often don’t quite get that aspect of being an author. So yes, sometimes a woman author acts like a Queen Bee to her women characters. This is hardly all, or even most, but it is one cause of creeping misogyny in M/M Romance.

Let’s turn to a related problem: women who want to be honorary men. While I view this as much more pronounced in prior generations, it’s by no means disappeared. Again, it’s a function of systemic sexism, but further along the misogyny line than Queen Bees. Most Queen Bees I’ve known act/react defensively, and many are (imo) emotionally insecure. It’s largely subconscious. More, they want to be THE woman, not an honorary man.

By contrast, women who want to be honorary men seem to be at least semi-conscious of their misogyny, even if they resist calling it that. These are women who, for the most part, dislike other women, regard most of “womankind” as either a problem or worthless, and think of themselves as having risen above their gender.

And NO, this is not necessarily religious—sometimes its specifically a-religious.

“I want to be an honorary man” women absolutely should NOT be conflated with butch lesbians, gender non-conformists, or frustrated FTMs. That plays right into myths the queer community has combated for decades. There’s a big difference between expressing one’s yang or being a trans man, and a desire to escape one’s womanhood or the company of other women. “Honorary men” women aren’t necessarily queer. I want to underscore that because the concrete example I’m about to give does happen to be queer.

I’ve talked before about Mary Renault’s problematic portrayal of women in her Greek novels (albeit her earlier hospital romances don’t show it as much). Her own recorded comments make it clear that she and her partner Julie Mullard didn’t want to be associated with other lesbians, or with women much at all. She was also born in 1905, living at a time when non-conforming women struggled. If extremely active in anti-apartheid movements in South Africa, Renault and Mullard were far less enthused by the Gay Rights Movement. Renault even criticized it, although she wrote back kindly to her gay fans.

The women in Renault’s Greek novels tend to be either bitches or helpless, reflecting popular male perceptions of women: both in ancient Greece and Renault’s own day. If we might argue she’s just being realistic, that ignores the fact one can write powerful women in historical novels and still keep it attitudinally accurate. June Rachuy Brindel, born in 1919, author of Ariadne and Phaedra, didn’t have the same problem, nor did Martha Rofheart, born in 1917, with My Name is Sappho. Brindel’s Ariadne is much more sympathetic than Renault’s (in The King Must Die).

Renault typically elevates (and identifies with) the “rational” male versus the “irrational” female. This isn’t just presenting how the Greeks viewed women; it reflects who she makes the heroes and villains in her books. Overall, “good” women are the compliant ones, and the compliant women are tertiary characters.

Women in earlier eras who were exceptional had to fight multiple layers of systemic misogyny. Some did feel they had to become honorary men in order to be taken seriously. I’d submit Renault bought into that, and it (unfortunately) shows in her fiction, as much as I admire other aspects of her novels.

So I think those are the three chief reasons we see women negatively portrayed in M/M Romance (or fiction more generally), despite being written by women authors.

------------------------------------

*Yeah, yeah, sometimes it’s such 2D, shallow, stereotypical presentation that I, as a reader, can conclude this author isn’t going to get any better. Also, the publication date might give me a clue. If I’m reading something published 50 years ago, casual misogyny or racism is probably not a surprise. If I don’t feel like dealing with that, I close the book and put it away.

But I do try to give the author a chance. I may skim ahead to see if things change, or at least suggest some sort of character development. This is even more the case with a series. Some series take a loooong view, and characters alter across several novels. Our instant-gratification world has made us impatient. Although by the same token, if one has to deal with racism or sexism constantly in the real world, one may not want to have to watch it unfold in a novel—even if it’s “fixed” later. If that’s you, put the book down and walk away. But I’d just suggest not writing a scathing review of a novel (or series) you haven’t finished. 😉

#misogyny in m/m romance #how to avoid misogyny writing women characters #writing complicated women characters #asks #writing life #writing advice

15 notes · View notes

brawltogethernow · 3 years

Note

a while back you said that you don’t think mj is cis, and that you have specific scenes informing that idea abt her.... do u mind if I ask what are the scenes? and what’s the gender diagnosis? 👀

I don’t have a concrete conclusion, just a vague impression and a habit of getting out my phone at five a.m. and texting my brother stuff like, “I feel like MJ would try out the label he/him lesbian but like, primarily on a personal Twitter account profile.” But yeah, she has two recurring traits that inform the bulk of this for me.

The first is her habit of inserting herself into traditionally masculine roles. I figure the writers were probably gunning for an exaggerated/comedic level of feminism. (It didn’t all age perfectly, but the other women of the cast were already written as feminist.) If you think speaking up for equal rights is cool, wait until you see...MJ try to singlehandedly destroy the gender binary? In practice you get this theme where MJ observes dubious male-coded behavior and then instead of going, “Stop doing that,” goes, “I am also going to do that.”

We see her take the reins of a date more than once on panel to literally go, “Wait, let’s do some very traditionally gendered date shit. And I am going to be the man.”

Physically taking Peter’s key to open his own door for him in ASM 136.

Playing out the ancient ritual of carrying his books for him in ASM 141. Both times she lampshades this as chauvinism and dramatizes the problematic subtext of how these are supposed to go down. In 1974 when these were published I’m pretty sure book carrying as a courting ritual was already considered a dated, cheesy trope living on only through media.

I wish guys pathologically trying to get the door had gone the same way, buuuut. Sigh. But personally, when dudes slow down our travel progress by stopping me and then making a big production of opening a door for me, I follow their lead by slowing us down even further and refusing to go through the door until after they’ve gone through, and when I’m with dudes who are not trying to do a gender at me I full stop don’t think about these behavioral habits unless a recent encounter has left me twitchy. But I don’t get a hit of gender euphoria from doing man shit, and MJ...might?

What other interpretation of this is there, really? Preemptively punishing Peter to get in ahead of it just in case he comes over weird and traditional on her, three in-universe years into their friendship? Nah, she’s literally just having fun with genderplay.

Also... Peter going along with it but very visibly not Getting it with a single bone in his body... RIP. Or not, because this read intensifies the ways MJ acts as a foil for Peter and Gwen by contrasting their traits.

Gwen’s way of addressing gender stereotypes, to have a point of contrast, were more along the lines of calling Peter a chauvinist when he tried to make decisions for her, and jabbingly cheerful reminders that she was a cute blonde girl and a science major.

The second trait is weaker evidence but still, like...noticeable? And less dismissable as a kink thing. That being MJ’s recurring tendency to parse emotionally complex situations happening to other people by zooming in on one of them and going, That one is the me of this situation and analyzing through that lens. Her pick is always a dude. If there are four women and one man, she’ll pick the man.

^literally recollecting her own sister’s divorce by her deadbeat husband, who if anything she should be comparing to their deadbeat father

SSM 96, ASM 259, ASM: Parallel Lives

This could just be the writers themselves overempathizing with men and discounting women! It’s definitely not deliberate. But also, there are lots of other women in this franchise, who don’t do this as far as I can think of. There are lots of women in these parts of MJ’s story who she is deliberately compared against, like, the Bechdel test is being passed.

And yet, most times I can recall where MJ compares herself to women are explicitly aversive, like how she’s terrified of ending up living a life like her mother’s.

Parallel Lives, incidentally, is wild, because it is simultaneously going “here’s how a man and woman met and got married👫” and dishing a condensed Mary Jane backstory that has every single “the one queer relative” marker. Young Mary Jane, inexplicably different from her family members in an ostracizing but decidedly stylish way, finds her mother and sister’s insistence she follow a normal path through life re: romance and relationships “suffocating” and generally existentially abhorrent. The only one willing to humor MJ is her unmarried aunt, though Anna's support is in the form of optimism about MJ’s potential within the expected romantic paradigm. Simultaneously MJ’s sister, whose trauma as a child of a bad marriage is identical to MJ’s, does hit all the life path checkmarks people expect to see from MJ. Okay. MJ’s main emotional conflict is literally: “A man: Is that my father, or is that me? (These are the only choices.)” ...Okay.

Bonus points granted for self-identifying by the gender-neutral nickname “MJ” over other nickname options that were available if she just wanted to ditch her uncool two-part first name. (Dubious for obvious reasons but we know her father calls her “Janey”, for example.)

Off in some other area of the great gender blob, MJ performs femininity with deliberate, studied exaggeration, and has clearly sampled what she likes from the chocolate box of womanhood and thrown out the rest. Citations: Literally every scene she is in from her introduction up until at least the 90′s Clone Saga.

What does any of this mean!? I dunno. Smells genderqueer tho.

#mary jane watson #spiderman #spiderman meta #spidey #marvel #someone finally gave me an excuse to compile this #anonymous #asks answered #essays

87 notes · View notes

comrade-meow · 3 years

Link

For a long time, academic feminism in America has been closely allied to the practical struggle to achieve justice and equality for women. Feminist theory has been understood by theorists as not just fancy words on paper; theory is connected to proposals for social change. Thus feminist scholars have engaged in many concrete projects: the reform of rape law; winning attention and legal redress for the problems of domestic violence and sexual harassment; improving women’s economic opportunities, working conditions, and education; winning pregnancy benefits for female workers; campaigning against the trafficking of women and girls in prostitution; working for the social and political equality of lesbians and gay men.

Indeed, some theorists have left the academy altogether, feeling more comfortable in the world of practical politics, where they can address these urgent problems directly. Those who remain in the academy have frequently made it a point of honor to be academics of a committed practical sort, eyes always on the material conditions of real women, writing always in a way that acknowledges those real bodies and those real struggles. One cannot read a page of Catharine MacKinnon, for example, without being engaged with a real issue of legal and institutional change. If one disagrees with her proposals--and many feminists disagree with them--the challenge posed by her writing is to find some other way of solving the problem that has been vividly delineated.

Feminists have differed in some cases about what is bad, and about what is needed to make things better; but all have agreed that the circumstances of women are often unjust and that law and political action can make them more nearly just. MacKinnon, who portrays hierarchy and subordination as endemic to our entire culture, is also committed to, and cautiously optimistic about, change through law--the domestic law of rape and sexual harassment and international human rights law. Even Nancy Chodorow, who, in The Reproduction of Mothering, offered a depressing account of the replication of oppressive gender categories in child-rearing, argued that this situation could change. Men and women could decide, understanding the unhappy consequences of these habits, that they will henceforth do things differently; and changes in laws and institutions can assist in such decisions.

Feminist theory still looks like this in many parts of the world. In India, for example, academic feminists have thrown themselves into practical struggles, and feminist theorizing is closely tethered to practical commitments such as female literacy, the reform of unequal land laws, changes in rape law (which, in India today, has most of the flaws that the first generation of American feminists targeted), the effort to get social recognition for problems of sexual harassment and domestic violence. These feminists know that they live in the middle of a fiercely unjust reality; they cannot live with themselves without addressing it more or less daily, in their theoretical writing and in their activities outside the seminar room.

In the United States, however, things have been changing. One observes a new, disquieting trend. It is not only that feminist theory pays relatively little attention to the struggles of women outside the United States. (This was always a dispiriting feature even of much of the best work of the earlier period.) Something more insidious than provincialism has come to prominence in the American academy. It is the virtually complete turning from the material side of life, toward a type of verbal and symbolic politics that makes only the flimsiest of connections with the real situation of real women.

Feminist thinkers of the new symbolic type would appear to believe that the way to do feminist politics is to use words in a subversive way, in academic publications of lofty obscurity and disdainful abstractness. These symbolic gestures, it is believed, are themselves a form of political resistance; and so one need not engage with messy things such as legislatures and movements in order to act daringly. The new feminism, moreover, instructs its members that there is little room for large-scale social change, and maybe no room at all. We are all, more or less, prisoners of the structures of power that have defined our identity as women; we can never change those structures in a large-scale way, and we can never escape from them. All that we can hope to do is to find spaces within the structures of power in which to parody them, to poke fun at them, to transgress them in speech. And so symbolic verbal politics, in addition to being offered as a type of real politics, is held to be the only politics that is really possible.

These developments owe much to the recent prominence of French postmodernist thought. Many young feminists, whatever their concrete affiliations with this or that French thinker, have been influenced by the extremely French idea that the intellectual does politics by speaking seditiously, and that this is a significant type of political action. Many have also derived from the writings of Michel Foucault (rightly or wrongly) the fatalistic idea that we are prisoners of an all-enveloping structure of power, and that real-life reform movements usually end up serving power in new and insidious ways. Such feminists therefore find comfort in the idea that the subversive use of words is still available to feminist intellectuals. Deprived of the hope of larger or more lasting changes, we can still perform our resistance by the reworking of verbal categories, and thus, at the margins, of the selves who are constituted by them.

One American feminist has shaped these developments more than any other. Judith Butler seems to many young scholars to define what feminism is now. Trained as a philosopher, she is frequently seen (more by people in literature than by philosophers) as a major thinker about gender, power, and the body. As we wonder what has become of old-style feminist politics and the material realities to which it was committed, it seems necessary to reckon with Butler’s work and influence, and to scrutinize the arguments that have led so many to adopt a stance that looks very much like quietism and retreat.

II.

It is difficult to come to grips with Butler’s ideas, because it is difficult to figure out what they are. Butler is a very smart person. In public discussions, she proves that she can speak clearly and has a quick grasp of what is said to her. Her written style, however, is ponderous and obscure. It is dense with allusions to other theorists, drawn from a wide range of different theoretical traditions. In addition to Foucault, and to a more recent focus on Freud, Butler’s work relies heavily on the thought of Louis Althusser, the French lesbian theorist Monique Wittig, the American anthropologist Gayle Rubin, Jacques Lacan, J.L. Austin, and the American philosopher of language Saul Kripke. These figures do not all agree with one another, to say the least; so an initial problem in reading Butler is that one is bewildered to find her arguments buttressed by appeal to so many contradictory concepts and doctrines, usually without any account of how the apparent contradictions will be resolved.

A further problem lies in Butler’s casual mode of allusion. The ideas of these thinkers are never described in enough detail to include the uninitiated (if you are not familiar with the Althusserian concept of “interpellation,” you are lost for chapters) or to explain to the initiated how, precisely, the difficult ideas are being understood. Of course, much academic writing is allusive in some way: it presupposes prior knowledge of certain doctrines and positions. But in both the continental and the Anglo-American philosophical traditions, academic writers for a specialist audience standardly acknowledge that the figures they mention are complicated, and the object of many different interpretations. They therefore typically assume the responsibility of advancing a definite interpretation among the contested ones, and of showing by argument why they have interpreted the figure as they have, and why their own interpretation is better than others.

We find none of this in Butler. Divergent interpretations are simply not considered--even where, as in the cases of Foucault and Freud, she is advancing highly contestable interpretations that would not be accepted by many scholars. Thus one is led to the conclusion that the allusiveness of the writing cannot be explained in the usual way, by positing an audience of specialists eager to debate the details of an esoteric academic position. The writing is simply too thin to satisfy any such audience. It is also obvious that Butler’s work is not directed at a non-academic audience eager to grapple with actual injustices. Such an audience would simply be baffled by the thick soup of Butler’s prose, by its air of in-group knowingness, by its extremely high ratio of names to explanations.

To whom, then, is Butler speaking? It would seem that she is addressing a group of young feminist theorists in the academy who are neither students of philosophy, caring about what Althusser and Freud and Kripke really said, nor outsiders, needing to be informed about the nature of their projects and persuaded of their worth. This implied audience is imagined as remarkably docile. Subservient to the oracular voice of Butler’s text, and dazzled by its patina of high-concept abstractness, the imagined reader poses few questions, requests no arguments and no clear definitions of terms.

Still more strangely, the implied reader is expected not to care greatly about Butler’s own final view on many matters. For a large proportion of the sentences in any book by Butler--especially sentences near the end of chapters--are questions. Sometimes the answer that the question expects is evident. But often things are much more indeterminate. Among the non-interrogative sentences, many begin with “Consider…” or “One could suggest…”--in such a way that Butler never quite tells the reader whether she approves of the view described. Mystification as well as hierarchy are the tools of her practice, a mystification that eludes criticism because it makes few definite claims.

Take two representative examples:

What does it mean for the agency of a subject to presuppose its own subordination? Is the act of presupposing the same as the act of reinstating, or is there a discontinuity between the power presupposed and the power reinstated? Consider that in the very act by which the subject reproduces the conditions of its own subordination, the subject exemplifies a temporally based vulnerability that belongs to those conditions, specifically, to the exigencies of their renewal.

And:

Such questions cannot be answered here, but they indicate a direction for thinking that is perhaps prior to the question of conscience, namely, the question that preoccupied Spinoza, Nietzsche, and most recently, Giorgio Agamben: How are we to understand the desire to be as a constitutive desire? Resituating conscience and interpellation within such an account, we might then add to this question another: How is such a desire exploited not only by a law in the singular, but by laws of various kinds such that we yield to subordination in order to maintain some sense of social “being”?

Why does Butler prefer to write in this teasing, exasperating way? The style is certainly not unprecedented. Some precincts of the continental philosophical tradition, though surely not all of them, have an unfortunate tendency to regard the philosopher as a star who fascinates, and frequently by obscurity, rather than as an arguer among equals. When ideas are stated clearly, after all, they may be detached from their author: one can take them away and pursue them on one’s own. When they remain mysterious (indeed, when they are not quite asserted), one remains dependent on the originating authority. The thinker is heeded only for his or her turgid charisma. One hangs in suspense, eager for the next move. When Butler does follow that “direction for thinking,” what will she say? What does it mean, tell us please, for the agency of a subject to presuppose its own subordination? (No clear answer to this question, so far as I can see, is forthcoming.) One is given the impression of a mind so profoundly cogitative that it will not pronounce on anything lightly: so one waits, in awe of its depth, for it finally to do so.

In this way obscurity creates an aura of importance. It also serves another related purpose. It bullies the reader into granting that, since one cannot figure out what is going on, there must be something significant going on, some complexity of thought, where in reality there are often familiar or even shopworn notions, addressed too simply and too casually to add any new dimension of understanding. When the bullied readers of Butler’s books muster the daring to think thus, they will see that the ideas in these books are thin. When Butler’s notions are stated clearly and succinctly, one sees that, without a lot more distinctions and arguments, they don’t go far, and they are not especially new. Thus obscurity fills the void left by an absence of a real complexity of thought and argument.

Last year Butler won the first prize in the annual Bad Writing Contest sponsored by the journal Philosophy and Literature, for the following sentence:

The move from a structuralist account in which capital is understood to structure social relations in relatively homologous ways to a view of hegemony in which power relations are subject to repetition, convergence, and rearticulation brought the question of temporality into the thinking of structure, and marked a shift from a form of Althusserian theory that takes structural totalities as theoretical objects to one in which the insights into the contingent possibility of structure inaugurate a renewed conception of hegemony as bound up with the contingent sites and strategies of the rearticulation of power.

Now, Butler might have written: “Marxist accounts, focusing on capital as the central force structuring social relations, depicted the operations of that force as everywhere uniform. By contrast, Althusserian accounts, focusing on power, see the operations of that force as variegated and as shifting over time.” Instead, she prefers a verbosity that causes the reader to expend so much effort in deciphering her prose that little energy is left for assessing the truth of the claims. Announcing the award, the journal’s editor remarked that “it’s possibly the anxiety-inducing obscurity of such writing that has led Professor Warren Hedges of Southern Oregon University to praise Judith Butler as `probably one of the ten smartest people on the planet.’” (Such bad writing, incidentally, is by no means ubiquitous in the “queer theory” group of theorists with which Butler is associated. David Halperin, for example, writes about the relationship between Foucault and Kant, and about Greek homosexuality, with philosophical clarity and historical precision.)

Butler gains prestige in the literary world by being a philosopher; many admirers associate her manner of writing with philosophical profundity. But one should ask whether it belongs to the philosophical tradition at all, rather than to the closely related but adversarial traditions of sophistry and rhetoric. Ever since Socrates distinguished philosophy from what the sophists and the rhetoricians were doing, it has been a discourse of equals who trade arguments and counter-arguments without any obscurantist sleight-of-hand. In that way, he claimed, philosophy showed respect for the soul, while the others’ manipulative methods showed only disrespect. One afternoon, fatigued by Butler on a long plane trip, I turned to a draft of a student’s dissertation on Hume’s views of personal identity. I quickly felt my spirits reviving. Doesn’t she write clearly, I thought with pleasure, and a tiny bit of pride. And Hume, what a fine, what a gracious spirit: how kindly he respects the reader’s intelligence, even at the cost of exposing his own uncertainty.

III.

Butler’s main idea, first introduced in Gender Trouble in 1989 and repeated throughout her books, is that gender is a social artifice. Our ideas of what women and men are reflect nothing that exists eternally in nature. Instead they derive from customs that embed social relations of power.

This notion, of course, is nothing new. The denaturalizing of gender was present already in Plato, and it received a great boost from John Stuart Mill, who claimed in The Subjection of Women that “what is now called the nature of women is an eminently artificial thing.” Mill saw that claims about “women’s nature” derive from, and shore up, hierarchies of power: womanliness is made to be whatever would serve the cause of keeping women in subjection, or, as he put it, “enslav[ing] their minds.” With the family as with feudalism, the rhetoric of nature itself serves the cause of slavery. “The subjection of women to men being a universal custom, any departure from it quite naturally appears unnatural…. But was there ever any domination which did not appear natural to those who possessed it?”

Mill was hardly the first social constructionist. Similar ideas about anger, greed, envy, and other prominent features of our lives had been commonplace in the history of philosophy since ancient Greece. And Mill’s application of familiar notions of social-construction to gender needed, and still needs, much fuller development; his suggestive remarks did not yet amount to a theory of gender. Long before Butler came on the scene, many feminists contributed to the articulation of such an account.

In work published in the 1970s and 1980s, Catharine MacKinnon and Andrea Dworkin argued that the conventional understanding of gender roles is a way of ensuring continued male domination in sexual relations, as well as in the public sphere. They took the core of Mill’s insight into a sphere of life concerning which the Victorian philosopher had said little. (Not nothing, though: in 1869 Mill already understood that the failure to criminalize rape within marriage defined woman as a tool for male use and negated her human dignity.) Before Butler, MacKinnon and Dworkin addressed the feminist fantasy of an idyllic natural sexuality of women that only needed to be “liberated”; and argued that social forces go so deep that we should not suppose we have access to such a notion of “nature.” Before Butler, they stressed the ways in which male-dominated power structures marginalize and subordinate not only women, but also people who would like to choose a same-sex relationship. They understood that discrimination against gays and lesbians is a way of enforcing the familiar hierarchically ordered gender roles; and so they saw discrimination against gays and lesbians as a form of sex discrimination.

Before Butler, the psychologist Nancy Chodorow gave a detailed and compelling account of how gender differences replicate themselves across the generations: she argued that the ubiquity of these mechanisms of replication enables us to understand how what is artificial can nonetheless be nearly ubiquitous. Before Butler, the biologist Anne Fausto Sterling, through her painstaking criticism of experimental work allegedly supporting the naturalness of conventional gender distinctions, showed how deeply social power-relations had compromised the objectivity of scientists: Myths of Gender (1985) was an apt title for what she found in the biology of the time. (Other biologists and primatologists also contributed to this enterprise.) Before Butler, the political theorist Susan Moller Okin explored the role of law and political thought in constructing a gendered destiny for women in the family; and this project, too, was pursued further by a number of feminists in law and political philosophy. Before Butler, Gayle Rubin’s important anthropological account of subordination, The Traffic in Women (1975), provided a valuable analysis of the relationship between the social organization of gender and the asymmetries of power.

So what does Butler’s work add to this copious body of writing? Gender Trouble and Bodies that Matter contain no detailed argument against biological claims of “natural” difference, no account of mechanisms of gender replication, and no account of the legal shaping of the family; nor do they contain any detailed focus on possibilities for legal change. What, then, does Butler offer that we might not find more fully done in earlier feminist writings? One relatively original claim is that when we recognize the artificiality of gender distinctions, and refrain from thinking of them as expressing an independent natural reality, we will also understand that there is no compelling reason why the gender types should have been two (correlated with the two biological sexes), rather than three or five or indefinitely many. “When the constructed status of gender is theorized as radically independent of sex, gender itself becomes a free-floating artifice,” she writes.

From this claim it does not follow, for Butler, that we can freely reinvent the genders as we like: she holds, indeed, that there are severe limits to our freedom. She insists that we should not naively imagine that there is a pristine self that stands behind society, ready to emerge all pure and liberated: “There is no self that is prior to the convergence or who maintains `integrity’ prior to its entrance into this conflicted cultural field. There is only a taking up of the tools where they lie, where the very `taking up’ is enabled by the tool lying there.” Butler does claim, though, that we can create categories that are in some sense new ones, by means of the artful parody of the old ones. Thus her best known idea, her conception of politics as a parodic performance, is born out of the sense of a (strictly limited) freedom that comes from the recognition that one’s ideas of gender have been shaped by forces that are social rather than biological. We are doomed to repetition of the power structures into which we are born, but we can at least make fun of them; and some ways of making fun are subversive assaults on the original norms.

The idea of gender as performance is Butler’s most famous idea, and so it is worth pausing to scrutinize it more closely. She introduced the notion intuitively, in Gender Trouble, without invoking theoretical precedent. Later she denied that she was referring to quasi-theatrical performance, and associated her notion instead with Austin’s account of speech acts in How to Do Things with Words. Austin’s linguistic category of “performatives” is a category of linguistic utterances that function, in and of themselves, as actions rather than as assertions. When (in appropriate social circumstances) I say “I bet ten dollars,” or “I’m sorry,” or “I do” (in a marriage ceremony), or “I name this ship…,” I am not reporting on a bet or an apology or a marriage or a naming ceremony, I am conducting one.

Butler’s analogous claim about gender is not obvious, since the “performances” in question involve gesture, dress, movement, and action, as well as language. Austin’s thesis, which is restricted to a rather technical analysis of a certain class of sentences, is in fact not especially helpful to Butler in developing her ideas. Indeed, though she vehemently repudiates readings of her work that associate her view with theater, thinking about the Living Theater’s subversive work with gender seems to illuminate her ideas far more than thinking about Austin.

Nor is Butler’s treatment of Austin very plausible. She makes the bizarre claim that the fact that the marriage ceremony is one of dozens of examples of performatives in Austin’s text suggests “that the heterosexualization of the social bond is the paradigmatic form for those speech acts which bring about what they name.” Hardly. Marriage is no more paradigmatic for Austin than betting or ship-naming or promising or apologizing. He is interested in a formal feature of certain utterances, and we are given no reason to suppose that their content has any significance for his argument. It is usually a mistake to read earth-shaking significance into a philosopher’s pedestrian choice of examples. Should we say that Aristotle’s use of a low-fat diet to illustrate the practical syllogism suggests that chicken is at the heart of Aristotelian virtue? Or that Rawls’s use of travel plans to illustrate practical reasoning shows that A Theory of Justice aims at giving us all a vacation?

Leaving these oddities to one side, Butler’s point is presumably this: when we act and speak in a gendered way, we are not simply reporting on something that is already fixed in the world, we are actively constituting it, replicating it, and reinforcing it. By behaving as if there were male and female “natures,” we co-create the social fiction that these natures exist. They are never there apart from our deeds; we are always making them be there. At the same time, by carrying out these performances in a slightly different manner, a parodic manner, we can perhaps unmake them just a little.

Thus the one place for agency in a world constrained by hierarchy is in the small opportunities we have to oppose gender roles every time they take shape. When I find myself doing femaleness, I can turn it around, poke fun at it, do it a little bit differently. Such reactive and parodic performances, in Butler’s view, never destabilize the larger system. She doesn’t envisage mass movements of resistance or campaigns for political reform; only personal acts carried out by a small number of knowing actors. Just as actors with a bad script can subvert it by delivering the bad lines oddly, so too with gender: the script remains bad, but the actors have a tiny bit of freedom. Thus we have the basis for what, in Excitable Speech, Butler calls “an ironic hopefulness.”

Up to this point, Butler’s contentions, though relatively familiar, are plausible and even interesting, though one is already unsettled by her narrow vision of the possibilities for change. Yet Butler adds to these plausible claims about gender two other claims that are stronger and more contentious. The first is that there is no agent behind or prior to the social forces that produce the self. If this means only that babies are born into a gendered world that begins to replicate males and females almost immediately, the claim is plausible, but not surprising: experiments have for some time demonstrated that the way babies are held and talked to, the way their emotions are described, are profoundly shaped by the sex the adults in question believe the child to have. (The same baby will be bounced if the adults think it is a boy, cuddled if they think it is a girl; its crying will be labeled as fear if the adults think it is a girl, as anger if they think it is a boy.) Butler shows no interest in these empirical facts, but they do support her contention.

If she means, however, that babies enter the world completely inert, with no tendencies and no abilities that are in some sense prior to their experience in a gendered society, this is far less plausible, and difficult to support empirically. Butler offers no such support, preferring to remain on the high plane of metaphysical abstraction. (Indeed, her recent Freudian work may even repudiate this idea: it suggests, with Freud, that there are at least some presocial impulses and tendencies, although, typically, this line is not clearly developed.) Moreover, such an exaggerated denial of pre-cultural agency takes away some of the resources that Chodorow and others use when they try to account for cultural change in the direction of the better.

Butler does in the end want to say that we have a kind of agency, an ability to undertake change and resistance. But where does this ability come from, if there is no structure in the personality that is not thoroughly power’s creation? It is not impossible for Butler to answer this question, but she certainly has not answered it yet, in a way that would convince those who believe that human beings have at least some pre-cultural desires--for food, for comfort, for cognitive mastery, for survival--and that this structure in the personality is crucial in the explanation of our development as moral and political agents. One would like to see her engage with the strongest forms of such a view, and to say, clearly and without jargon, exactly why and where she rejects them. One would also like to hear her speak about real infants, who do appear to manifest a structure of striving that influences from the start their reception of cultural forms.

Butler’s second strong claim is that the body itself, and especially the distinction between the two sexes, is also a social construction. She means not only that the body is shaped in many ways by social norms of how men and women should be; she means also that the fact that a binary division of sexes is taken as fundamental, as a key to arranging society, is itself a social idea that is not given in bodily reality. What exactly does this claim mean, and how plausible is it?

Butler’s brief exploration of Foucault on hermaphrodites does show us society’s anxious insistence to classify every human being in one box or another, whether or not the individual fits a box; but of course it does not show that there are many such indeterminate cases. She is right to insist that we might have made many different classifications of body types, not necessarily focusing on the binary division as the most salient; and she is also right to insist that, to a large extent, claims of bodily sex difference allegedly based upon scientific research have been projections of cultural prejudice--though Butler offers nothing here that is nearly as compelling as Fausto Sterling’s painstaking biological analysis.

And yet it is much too simple to say that power is all that the body is. We might have had the bodies of birds or dinosaurs or lions, but we do not; and this reality shapes our choices. Culture can shape and reshape some aspects of our bodily existence, but it does not shape all the aspects of it. “In the man burdened by hunger and thirst,” as Sextus Empiricus observed long ago, “it is impossible to produce by argument the conviction that he is not so burdened.” This is an important fact also for feminism, since women’s nutritional needs (and their special needs when pregnant or lactating) are an important feminist topic. Even where sex difference is concerned, it is surely too simple to write it all off as culture; nor should feminists be eager to make such a sweeping gesture. Women who run or play basketball, for example, were right to welcome the demolition of myths about women’s athletic performance that were the product of male-dominated assumptions; but they were also right to demand the specialized research on women’s bodies that has fostered a better understanding of women’s training needs and women’s injuries. In short: what feminism needs, and sometimes gets, is a subtle study of the interplay of bodily difference and cultural construction. And Butler’s abstract pronouncements, floating high above all matter, give us none of what we need.

IV.

Suppose we grant Butler her most interesting claims up to this point: that the social structure of gender is ubiquitous, but we can resist it by subversive and parodic acts. Two significant questions remain. What should be resisted, and on what basis? What would the acts of resistance be like, and what would we expect them to accomplish?

Butler uses several words for what she takes to be bad and therefore worthy of resistance: the “repressive,” the “subordinating,” the “oppressive.” But she provides no empirical discussion of resistance of the sort that we find, say, in Barry Adam’s fascinating sociological study The Survival of Domination (1978), which studies the subordination of blacks, Jews, women, and gays and lesbians, and their ways of wrestling with the forms of social power that have oppressed them. Nor does Butler provide any account of the concepts of resistance and oppression that would help us, were we really in doubt about what we ought to be resisting.

Butler departs in this regard from earlier social-constructionist feminists, all of whom used ideas such as non-hierarchy, equality, dignity, autonomy, and treating as an end rather than a means, to indicate a direction for actual politics. Still less is she willing to elaborate any positive normative notion. Indeed, it is clear that Butler, like Foucault, is adamantly opposed to normative notions such as human dignity, or treating humanity as an end, on the grounds that they are inherently dictatorial. In her view, we ought to wait to see what the political struggle itself throws up, rather than prescribe in advance to its participants. Universal normative notions, she says, “colonize under the sign of the same.”

This idea of waiting to see what we get--in a word, this moral passivity--seems plausible in Butler because she tacitly assumes an audience of like-minded readers who agree (sort of) about what the bad things are--discrimination against gays and lesbians, the unequal and hierarchical treatment of women--and who even agree (sort of) about why they are bad (they subordinate some people to others, they deny people freedoms that they ought to have). But take that assumption away, and the absence of a normative dimension becomes a severe problem.

Try teaching Foucault at a contemporary law school, as I have, and you will quickly find that subversion takes many forms, not all of them congenial to Butler and her allies. As a perceptive libertarian student said to me, Why can’t I use these ideas to resist the tax structure, or the antidiscrimination laws, or perhaps even to join the militias? Others, less fond of liberty, might engage in the subversive performances of making fun of feminist remarks in class, or ripping down the posters of the lesbian and gay law students’ association. These things happen. They are parodic and subversive. Why, then, aren’t they daring and good?

Well, there are good answers to those questions, but you won’t find them in Foucault, or in Butler. Answering them requires discussing which liberties and opportunities human beings ought to have, and what it is for social institutions to treat human beings as ends rather than as means--in short, a normative theory of social justice and human dignity. It is one thing to say that we should be humble about our universal norms, and willing to learn from the experience of oppressed people. It is quite another thing to say that we don’t need any norms at all. Foucault, unlike Butler, at least showed signs in his late work of grappling with this problem; and all his writing is animated by a fierce sense of the texture of social oppression and the harm that it does.

Come to think of it, justice, understood as a personal virtue, has exactly the structure of gender in the Butlerian analysis: it is not innate or “natural,” it is produced by repeated performances (or as Aristotle said, we learn it by doing it), it shapes our inclinations and forces the repression of some of them. These ritual performances, and their associated repressions, are enforced by arrangements of social power, as children who won’t share on the playground quickly discover. Moreover, the parodic subversion of justice is ubiquitous in politics, as in personal life. But there is an important difference. Generally we dislike these subversive performances, and we think that young people should be strongly discouraged from seeing norms of justice in such a cynical light. Butler cannot explain in any purely structural or procedural way why the subversion of gender norms is a social good while the subversion of justice norms is a social bad. Foucault, we should remember, cheered for the Ayatollah, and why not? That, too, was resistance, and there was indeed nothing in the text to tell us that that struggle was less worthy than a struggle for civil rights and civil liberties.

There is a void, then, at the heart of Butler’s notion of politics. This void can look liberating, because the reader fills it implicitly with a normative theory of human equality or dignity. But let there be no mistake: for Butler, as for Foucault, subversion is subversion, and it can in principle go in any direction. Indeed, Butler’s naively empty politics is especially dangerous for the very causes she holds dear. For every friend of Butler, eager to engage in subversive performances that proclaim the repressiveness of heterosexual gender norms, there are dozens who would like to engage in subversive performances that flout the norms of tax compliance, of non-discrimination, of decent treatment of one’s fellow students. To such people we should say, you cannot simply resist as you please, for there are norms of fairness, decency, and dignity that entail that this is bad behavior. But then we have to articulate those norms--and this Butler refuses to do.

What precisely does Butler offer when she counsels subversion? She tells us to engage in parodic performances, but she warns us that the dream of escaping altogether from the oppressive structures is just a dream: it is within the oppressive structures that we must find little spaces for resistance, and this resistance cannot hope to change the overall situation. And here lies a dangerous quietism.

If Butler means only to warn us against the dangers of fantasizing an idyllic world in which sex raises no serious problems, she is wise to do so. Yet frequently she goes much further. She suggests that the institutional structures that ensure the marginalization of lesbians and gay men in our society, and the continued inequality of women, will never be changed in a deep way; and so our best hope is to thumb our noses at them, and to find pockets of personal freedom within them. “Called by an injurious name, I come into social being, and because I have a certain inevitable attachment to my existence, because a certain narcissism takes hold of any term that confers existence, I am led to embrace the terms that injure me because they constitute me socially.” In other words: I cannot escape the humiliating structures without ceasing to be, so the best I can do is mock, and use the language of subordination stingingly. In Butler, resistance is always imagined as personal, more or less private, involving no unironic, organized public action for legal or institutional change.

Isn’t this like saying to a slave that the institution of slavery will never change, but you can find ways of mocking it and subverting it, finding your personal freedom within those acts of carefully limited defiance? Yet it is a fact that the institution of slavery can be changed, and was changed--but not by people who took a Butler-like view of the possibilities. It was changed because people did not rest content with parodic performance: they demanded, and to some extent they got, social upheaval. It is also a fact that the institutional structures that shape women’s lives have changed. The law of rape, still defective, has at least improved; the law of sexual harassment exists, where it did not exist before; marriage is no longer regarded as giving men monarchical control over women’s bodies. These things were changed by feminists who would not take parodic performance as their answer, who thought that power, where bad, should, and would, yield before justice.

Butler not only eschews such a hope, she takes pleasure in its impossibility. She finds it exciting to contemplate the alleged immovability of power, and to envisage the ritual subversions of the slave who is convinced that she must remain such. She tells us--this is the central thesis of The Psychic Life of Power--that we all eroticize the power structures that oppress us, and can thus find sexual pleasure only within their confines. It seems to be for that reason that she prefers the sexy acts of parodic subversion to any lasting material or institutional change. Real change would so uproot our psyches that it would make sexual satisfaction impossible. Our libidos are the creation of the bad enslaving forces, and thus necessarily sadomasochistic in structure.

Well, parodic performance is not so bad when you are a powerful tenured academic in a liberal university. But here is where Butler’s focus on the symbolic, her proud neglect of the material side of life, becomes a fatal blindness. For women who are hungry, illiterate, disenfranchised, beaten, raped, it is not sexy or liberating to reenact, however parodically, the conditions of hunger, illiteracy, disenfranchisement, beating, and rape. Such women prefer food, schools, votes, and the integrity of their bodies. I see no reason to believe that they long sadomasochistically for a return to the bad state. If some individuals cannot live without the sexiness of domination, that seems sad, but it is not really our business. But when a major theorist tells women in desperate conditions that life offers them only bondage, she purveys a cruel lie, and a lie that flatters evil by giving it much more power than it actually has.

Excitable Speech, Butler’s most recent book, which provides her analysis of legal controversies involving pornography and hate speech, shows us exactly how far her quietism extends. For she is now willing to say that even where legal change is possible, even where it has already happened, we should wish it away, so as to preserve the space within which the oppressed may enact their sadomasochistic rituals of parody.

As a work on the law of free speech, Excitable Speech is an unconscionably bad book. Butler shows no awareness of the major theoretical accounts of the First Amendment, and no awareness of the wide range of cases such a theory will need to take into consideration. She makes absurd legal claims: for example, she says that the only type of speech that has been held to be unprotected is speech that has been previously defined as conduct rather than speech. (In fact, there are many types of speech, from false or misleading advertising to libelous statements to obscenity as currently defined, which have never been claimed to be action rather than speech, and which are nonetheless denied First Amendment protection.) Butler even claims, mistakenly, that obscenity has been judged to be the equivalent of “fighting words.” It is not that Butler has an argument to back up her novel readings of the wide range of cases of unprotected speech that an account of the First Amendment would need to cover. She just has not noticed that there is this wide range of cases, or that her view is not a widely accepted legal view. Nobody interested in law can take her argument seriously.

But let us extract from Butler’s thin discussion of hate speech and pornography the core of her position. It is this: legal prohibitions of hate speech and pornography are problematic (though in the end she does not clearly oppose them) because they close the space within which the parties injured by that speech can perform their resistance. By this Butler appears to mean that if the offense is dealt with through the legal system, there will be fewer occasions for informal protest; and also, perhaps, that if the offense becomes rarer because of its illegality we will have fewer opportunities to protest its presence.

Well, yes. Law does close those spaces. Hate speech and pornography are extremely complicated subjects on which feminists may reasonably differ. (Still, one should state the contending views precisely: Butler’s account of MacKinnon is less than careful, stating that MacKinnon supports “ordinances against pornography” and suggesting that, despite MacKinnon’s explicit denial, they involve a form of censorship. Nowhere does Butler mention that what MacKinnon actually supports is a civil damage action in which particular women harmed through pornography can sue its makers and its distributors.)

But Butler’s argument has implications well beyond the cases of hate speech and pornography. It would appear to support not just quietism in these areas, but a much more general legal quietism--or, indeed, a radical libertarianism. It goes like this: let us do away with everything from building codes to non-discrimination laws to rape laws, because they close the space within which the injured tenants, the victims of discrimination, the raped women, can perform their resistance. Now, this is not the same argument radical libertarians use to oppose building codes and anti-discrimination laws; even they draw the line at rape. But the conclusions converge.

If Butler should reply that her argument pertains only to speech (and there is no reason given in the text for such a limitation, given the assimilation of harmful speech to conduct), then we can reply in the domain of speech. Let us get rid of laws against false advertising and unlicensed medical advice, for they close the space within which poisoned consumers and mutilated patients can perform their resistance! Again, if Butler does not approve of these extensions, she needs to make an argument that divides her cases from these cases, and it is not clear that her position permits her to make such a distinction.

For Butler, the act of subversion is so riveting, so sexy, that it is a bad dream to think that the world will actually get better. What a bore equality is! No bondage, no delight. In this way, her pessimistic erotic anthropology offers support to an amoral anarchist politics.

VI.

When we consider the quietism inherent in Butler’s writing, we have some keys to understanding Butler’s influential fascination with drag and cross-dressing as paradigms of feminist resistance. Butler’s followers understand her account of drag to imply that such performances are ways for women to be daring and subversive. I am unaware of any attempt by Butler to repudiate such readings.

But what is going on here? The woman dressed mannishly is hardly a new figure. Indeed, even when she was relatively new, in the nineteenth century, she was in another way quite old, for she simply replicated in the lesbian world the existing stereotypes and hierarchies of male-female society. What, we may well ask, is parodic subversion in this area, and what a kind of prosperous middle-class acceptance? Isn’t hierarchy in drag still hierarchy? And is it really true (as The Psychic Life of Power would seem to conclude) that domination and subordination are the roles that women must play in every sphere, and if not subordination, then mannish domination?

In short, cross-dressing for women is a tired old script--as Butler herself informs us. Yet she would have us see the script as subverted, made new, by the cross-dresser’s knowing symbolic sartorial gestures; but again we must wonder about the newness, and even the subversiveness. Consider Andrea Dworkin’s parody (in her novel Mercy) of a Butlerish parodic feminist, who announces from her posture of secure academic comfort:

The notion that bad things happen is both propagandistic and inadequate…. To understand a woman’s life requires that we affirm the hidden or obscure dimensions of pleasure, often in pain, and choice, often under duress. One must develop an eye for secret signs--the clothes that are more than clothes or decoration in the contemporary dialogue, for instance, or the rebellion hidden behind apparent conformity. There is no victim. There is perhaps an insufficiency of signs, an obdurate appearance of conformity that simply masks the deeper level on which choice occurs.

In prose quite unlike Butler’s, this passage captures the ambivalence of the implied author of some of Butler’s writings, who delights in her violative practice while turning her theoretical eye resolutely away from the material suffering of women who are hungry, illiterate, violated, beaten. There is no victim. There is only an insufficiency of signs.

Butler suggests to her readers that this sly send-up of the status quo is the only script for resistance that life offers. Well, no. Besides offering many other ways to be human in one’s personal life, beyond traditional norms of domination and subservience, life also offers many scripts for resistance that do not focus narcissistically on personal self-presentation. Such scripts involve feminists (and others, of course) in building laws and institutions, without much concern for how a woman displays her own body and its gendered nature: in short, they involve working for others who are suffering.

The great tragedy in the new feminist theory in America is the loss of a sense of public commitment. In this sense, Butler’s self-involved feminism is extremely American, and it is not surprising that it has caught on here, where successful middle-class people prefer to focus on cultivating the self rather than thinking in a way that helps the material condition of others. Even in America, however, it is possible for theorists to be dedicated to the public good and to achieve something through that effort.

Many feminists in America are still theorizing in a way that supports material change and responds to the situation of the most oppressed. Increasingly, however, the academic and cultural trend is toward the pessimistic flirtatiousness represented by the theorizing of Butler and her followers. Butlerian feminism is in many ways easier than the old feminism. It tells scores of talented young women that they need not work on changing the law, or feeding the hungry, or assailing power through theory harnessed to material politics. They can do politics in safety of their campuses, remaining on the symbolic level, making subversive gestures at power through speech and gesture. This, the theory says, is pretty much all that is available to us anyway, by way of political action, and isn’t it exciting and sexy?

In its small way, of course, this is a hopeful politics. It instructs people that they can, right now, without compromising their security, do something bold. But the boldness is entirely gestural, and insofar as Butler’s ideal suggests that these symbolic gestures really are political change, it offers only a false hope. Hungry women are not fed by this, battered women are not sheltered by it, raped women do not find justice in it, gays and lesbians do not achieve legal protections through it.

Finally there is despair at the heart of the cheerful Butlerian enterprise. The big hope, the hope for a world of real justice, where laws and institutions protect the equality and the dignity of all citizens, has been banished, even perhaps mocked as sexually tedious. Judith Butler’s hip quietism is a comprehensible response to the difficulty of realizing justice in America. But it is a bad response. It collaborates with evil. Feminism demands more and women deserve better.

#Anglo.txt

7 notes · View notes

kuramirocket · 3 years

Text

Sonia Gutierrez dreamed of returning to her hometown of Denver as a television reporter for the city's defining news station: KUSA 9News. When she finally achieved it, however, it came at too steep a cost, she says.

Gutierrez says she was told that she could report on immigration, an issue about which she cares deeply, but only if she were to state her own immigration status on air in every story on the subject.

"I was put in a box simply for who I am," Gutierrez says.

She had never tried to hide that her parents had brought her as a baby from Mexico without documentation. But Gutierrez, 30, says she balked at the station's directive. She was told she could continue pitching stories about immigration, but, she says, she was asked to pass off her ideas and sources to other reporters.

Gutierrez is no longer with KUSA. Nor are two other Latina reporters. One had pushed editors to involve Black and Latino colleagues in more decisions about news coverage. The other's contract was not renewed five months after she had returned after having a stroke. She, too, had challenged station leaders on how they cover issues affecting Latinos in Colorado.

Over the course of a year, from March 2020 to March 2021, KUSA allowed each of the women's contracts to lapse without renewal, the way television stations typically part with their journalists.

"It is racist to require a Latino reporter, a Hispanic reporter, to disclose their own immigration status [to viewers] before reporting on immigration," says Julio-César Chávez, the vice president of National Association of Hispanic Journalists.

The outcry has focused an unwanted glare on Tegna, one of the nation's largest and most prominent owners of local television stations, just as the company faces claims of racial bias from a dissident investor.

"9News is the market leader in Denver and has been for decades," KUSA news director Megan Jurgemeyer says, "Having worked at another station in town, it was always viewed as the top competition and who we wanted to beat."

9News is unusually woven into the fabric of its parent company. Tegna's CEO Dave Lougee used to be the station's news director. KUSA's general manager, Mark Cornetta, is also the executive vice president of Tegna Media, the company's local television division. And Patti Dennis, a Tegna vice president and director of recruitment, is herself a former KUSA news director who still works out of the station's main building in Denver. All three are white, as are Jurgemeyer and Ryan.

Parent company faces its own issues with race

Tegna faces its own allegations of racial bias. An activist hedge fund, Standard General LP, recently nominated rival directors, saying it wanted to diversify the company's largely white board.

In an April federal securities filing, Standard General accused Tegna of racist practices stretching back years.

In 2019, a sports anchor at the company's Phoenix station accused its general manager — recently promoted from a job as KUSA's sales manager — of making "loud and unwelcome racist and sexist comments about coworkers" at a baseball game, in a civil complaint reviewed by NPR

Jamie Torres, a Denver city council member, was among the Latina state and local public officials who met twice with KUSA executives following the dismissal of the three journalists. She says the meetings left her unconvinced that there would be real progress beyond some changes in language and style.

"The conversation felt just incredibly transactional," Torres says.

And it renewed long-held frustrations: Torres says the three Latina journalists had been hired after an earlier round of discussions between the station and Denver-area Latino officials about representation at KUSA.

"Why Don't You Pitch It To Telemundo?"

While in college, Gutierrez interned at the local affiliate of the Spanish-language network Telemundo. Back then, it was housed inside KUSA's headquarters. Though owned by Tegna, KUSA is an affiliate of NBC, and Telemundo is part of NBC's parent company, Comcast.

As Gutierrez rose at Telemundo Denver, she also pitched stories to KUSA.

She says she often heard back: "That's a great story idea, why don't you pitch it to Telemundo?" Her response: KUSA also needed to serve Latino families — the ones who speak English.

"After a while, when stories wouldn't get picked up, I would just take it upon myself to do the interviews, write up a little [script] and give it to the anchors and say, 'It's done.' To the producers, 'It's done. You want it or not?' " Gutierrez says it was easier to hand off the idea fully baked.

After a stint at a station in Columbia, S.C., Gutierrez returned to KUSA as a reporter. She says KUSA leaders told her that she could be a defining person for the station, someone who would thrive there. By her telling, Gutierrez ignored the little slights that accreted.

Then, Gutierrez says, she was told she had to disclose that she had been a DREAMer, protected from deportation through the Obama-era policy called Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals, or DACA, before she became a legal permanent resident through marriage. She didn't see why viewers needed to be told that in each of her immigration reports.

Gutierrez says she received no response when she asked for concrete examples of how her status had compromised her reporting. And when she refused to go along, Gutierrez says, she was told she would have to pass her story ideas and sources on immigration to other reporters.

"It's not like there was something wrong with me or my reporting," says Gutierrez, who left last year. "There was just something wrong with who I was — a liability to them."

Allegations of unfulfilled promises

Aguirre, 34, a Mexican-American who grew up near Midway Airport on the South Side of Chicago, says she had been inspired to become a journalist to tell stories about Latinos that were not simply about crime and immigration.

She came to Denver after being an anchor at a smaller station in Flint, Mich.

Aguirre says she believed her pursuit of community-driven news brought value.

"I can tell a story in a much different way than a female white reporter can because I lived it. I know the questions to ask," Aguirre says.

In April 2019, Aguirre suffered a stroke that resulted in a traumatic brain injury and paralyzed her on her left side; as she built back strength and returned in the fall.

After roughly six months, as new newsroom leaders rotated in she did not return to the anchor's chair. Aguirre alleges in a formal amended complaint she filed with the U.S. Equal Employment Opportunity Commission earlier this year.

Aguirre left the station in March 2020. Her attorney, Iris Halpern, says the complaint is currently in mediation.

"Because they're KUSA, they can just get somebody else," Aguirre says. "They can get another Latino who fills that Brown category, who's cheaper, younger, greener and more afraid to ask any questions. Although I was recovering [from the stroke], I was still that woman who would push back. So I'd be in those meetings and I would ask 'Why?' "

"I was instructed not to wear my hair in a bun"

After two years as a reporter in Bakersfield, Calif., Lori Lizarraga says, she was told by 9News that she would be an asset and she joined the station.

Lizarraga, whose mother was born in Ecuador and whose father is first generation Mexican-American, remembers saying, "'My voice will never track this [the word illegal] slew of words." She says she ended up shying away from stories involving immigration.

Lizarraga recalls even having her hairstyles vetoed. She wrote in Westword, "After six months, I was instructed not to wear my hair in a bun with a middle part anymore — a style I have seen and worn as a Mexican and Ecuadorian woman all my life. Not a good look, I was told."

"We Would Have Had Reporters On Every Corner"

Lizarraga, who left in March, says she hit an inflection point early last year. Colorado state regulators had just announced a record fine against a Canadian energy giant whose plant had been polluting nearby neighborhoods for years. She read up on it as she raced with a colleague in the official KUSA 9News van to the press conference.

"Ash was falling from the sky onto people's cars and yards and playgrounds," Lizarraga recalls. "Water was impacted."

She was struck by something else: The communities affected were heavily Latino. Yet, she says, state regulators had not consulted with those communities or even put out information in Spanish. And back in the newsroom, she says, producers focused solely on the size of the fine — potentially up to $9 million.

"I was very upset and I said, 'You know, if this were a community in a ZIP code just up the street with a different demographic, we would have had reporters on every corner ' " to interview residents, Lizarraga says. "And because this is a Spanish-speaking, low-income, largely immigrant community, we don't have an interest. We are choosing what is newsworthy based on what you care to talk about, not what is actually newsworthy."

"We have to confront management"

At KUSA, Lizarraga says supervisors resented her for demanding that African American colleagues be consulted on coverage about Floyd's murder and the protests. She thought they had a right to weigh in on questions such as: How much of the video of Floyd's death should be shown? When and if the word "riot" was appropriate? How much coverage should there be of police tactics?

Lizarraga says she rallied colleagues of color to object when the station decided to stage a town hall meeting on race and equity hosted solely by a white anchor. Instead of channeling that fervor, Lizarraga says, it was largely deflected.

"We can't be exhausted, we can't be scared," Lizarraga recalled telling colleagues. "We have to confront management and tell them that we have ideas and that we deserve a spotlight right now."

Meanwhile, she says, she was not recognized for the initiative she showed, such as the data-driven pieces that officials and advocates said (in text messages reviewed by NPR) served as a road map for government agencies seeking to arrange COVID-19 testing in heavily affected Black and Latino neighborhoods.

Life after KUSA 9News

Gutierrez now works across town at Rocky Mountain PBS. Aguirre is a local news anchor and reporter in Asheville, N.C., part of a television market that is about half the size of that of Denver.

Lizarraga returned to her family home in Dallas. In late March, she published her allegations against KUSA in Westword. "What Lori Lizarraga did took a lot of courage and bravery," the NAHJ's Chávez says, singling out Gutierrez and Aguirre for praise as well. "Journalism is an industry where a lot of people are mistreated, a lot of employees are mistreated, and discriminated against, and then people simply go quiet.

"For Lori to actually tell the world how bad the situation was, how bad she was being treated and how racist some of the management policies were, that takes real courage. She put her entire career in jeopardy."

In October, the Colorado ACLU will honor the three women for "fighting discrimination in the newsroom."

#🇲🇽#journalism #news reporters #racism #KUSA 9News #usa #united states #colorado #national association of hispanic journalists #tegna #denver #denver colorado #telemundo #NBC #canada

6 notes · View notes

sifeng · 4 years

Text

Wuxia/Xianxia: A Genre Introduction

I often mention “wuxia” or “xianxia” in my posts but I have never really taken the time to analyze what these two genres mean. This will be less of an “explaining the concept”, but more of an introduction to basic elements of wuxia/xianxia dramas.

The Legend of the Condor Heroes 2017 (射雕英雄传) is one of the biggest works in wuxia. The most recent drama adaptation in 2017 has the highest ratings out of 9 other adaptations there have been.

Wuxia (武侠)

The term wuxia in Chinese basically means “martial arts”, which is fitting since the main element of wuxia novels and dramas is martial arts. A wuxia drama is typically very easy to distinguish from your typical historical story since there will be a lot of fight scenes in a wuxia production.

Jianghu (江湖)/Wulin (武林)

One term that is used extremely often in wuxia dramas, and in other historical dramas as well, is jianghu or wulin. Jianghu and wulin have basically the same meaning, and those two terms can be used to describe the same thing. Jianghu in Chinese (江湖) literally translates to “rivers and lakes”, while wulin (武林) translates to “martial arts”. One common mistake people make in trying to understand the concept of “jianghu” is believing that jianghu is a place. Because wulin could also literally translate to “martial arts forest (wu - 武 - meaning martial arts and Lin - 林 - meaning forest)”, people often mistake the wulin for a place with concrete borders instead of what it actually is - a community. The jianghu is composed of people, sects, or schools that practice martial arts, and those who are “outcasts” from normal society. It is the counterculture society of workers who made their living with the skill of their own two hands: craftsmen, beggars, thieves, street performers, fortune tellers, wandering healers, and many martial artists. However, the wulin consists solely of martial artists and the schools and sects that practice martial arts. Jianghu is often seen as a lawless, chaotic place full of unpredictability, but also endless potential. Jianghu can be treated like a place, or work in sentences. Often wuxia heroes will “wander the Jianghu” and many endings have wuxia heroes, “retiring from the Jianghu”. Another important term that often appears is “Xia (侠)” meaning “hero or chivalrous”. Often people on the jianghu will refer to each other as “Xia” in a way of respect.

Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon (卧虎藏龙) is well known for how amazing the fight scenes are. The lead actors acted the fight scenes themselves.

The Sects

While many of these sects are represented in wuxia novels and dramas, they do have historical roots as well. The two big “orthodox” sects are Wudang and Shaolin:

Wudang Sect (武当派) - Disciples of the Wudang Sect train under taoist influence. Their martial arts skills are based off of the taoist philosophy of “taiji”. Traditionally, the Wudang only accepts male students.

Shaolin Sect (少林派) - Disciples are Buddhist monks that train martial arts with Buddhist roots. They also must follow Buddhist customs and practices. Also known as Shaolin Monastery (少林寺).

There are many other “orthodox sects” within wuxia novels:

Kunlun Sect (昆仑派)

Kongtong Sect (崆峒派)

Mount Hua Sect (华山派)

Emei Sect (峨眉派) - In Jin Yong novels, Emei consists solely of women and is led by Buddhist nuns.

While there are certain “unorthodox” sects, they differ between different novels and authors. And so, unlike the “orthodox” sects which are concrete and appear in various wuxia works of fiction, “unorthodox” sects are usually unique to an author.

The unorthodox sects are usually called Religious Sects or Cults (教) instead of the name given to orthodox sects (派/宗). Religious Sects that practice an evil religion are usually given the name “cult”. However, Jin Yong’s Heavenly Sword and Dragon Sabre sheds light to the fact that just because unorthodox sects are not honored by the official sects, doesn’t mean they have to be evil or cruel.

The main character of Heavenly Sword and Dragon Sabre (倚天屠龙记), Zhang Wuji (张无忌), with his four love interests.

Fighting and Skills

Many heroes in wuxia will practice “qinggong (轻功)”. This is what allows many of our heroes (and villains) to fly across rooftops and walk across water. The word “qing” means light, while the word “gong” means work. Together they literally mean “light work”. This is one one of the first practices wuxia heroes have to learn.

Another common skill that martial arts must train is Internal Energy (内力). It is the cultivated energy within a martial artist’s body. Utilizing it, a martial artist can accomplish superhuman feats of speed, agility, strength, endurance, etc… It can even be used to heal wounds and nullify poisons. It is the practice of controlling ones breathing and internal mechanics to stronger martial arts capability.

Another skill character use in wuxia novels and dramas is Striking of Acupoints (点穴). This technique can be used to kill, cripple, immobilize, or control the opponent. This technique basically involves a few “key” acupoints on the body that, once they are pressed, can result in paralyzation or immobilization.

The Big Works

If you want to learn even more about wuxia I suggest you watch a drama. Some of these concepts may seem strange while reading, but when you see them enacted it makes much more sense. The most popular wuxia author is Jin Yong, who wrote the wuxia classics “Legend of the Condor Heroes (射雕英雄传)”, “The Return of the Condor Heroes (神雕侠侣)”, “Heavenly Sword and Dragon Saber (倚天屠龙)”, “Demi Gods and Semi Devils (天龙八部)” and “The Smiling, Proud Wanderer (笑傲江湖)”. I would definitely recommend all of these. Not only are they interesting and great works, they all follow the key pattern of wuxia (weak hero learns from various people and becomes strong while also falling in love). Other big wuxia works include “The Proud Siblings (绝代双骄)”, and “The Vigilantes in Masks” and “Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon”.

Xianxia (仙侠)

Xianxia is very similar to wuxia in that there’s a world that almost all xianxia dramas take place in. The concept of xianxia is actually very similar to the concept of wuxia, only it is even more exaggerated. The world “xianxia” comes from the Chinese words “Xian (仙)” meaning immortal being and “Xia (侠)” which means hero. This genre is heavenly influenced by Chinese mythology, folklore and Daoism.

One of the most popular Chinese dramas ever, and (probably) the most viewed xianxia drama - Eternal Love (三生三世十里桃花)

The Three Realms

In almost all xianxia dramas you have three realms:

Heaven Realm

Human Realm

Demon Realm

However, traditionally, the xianxia world is composed of six realms:

Spirit Realm (神界)

Heaven Realm (仙界)

Human Realm (人界)

Demon Realm (妖界)

Devil Realm (魔界)

Underworld/Ghost Realm (冥界/鬼界)

Characters of xianxia pieces fall into those six races - spirit, immortal, human, monster, demon, or ghost. An example of a drama that clearly points out, from the very beginning, what race each character is, is Chinese Paladin 3 (仙剑奇侠传3). In Ashes of Love (香蜜沉沉烬如霜), the writers add another world called the Flower Realm (花界), though from what I know that is the only drama to feature the Flower Realm.

Often people will get confused between the “demon (妖)” and “devil (魔)” concepts. Demons are not inherently evil, however some may prove to be antagonistic. Devils on the other hand are cruel and villainous.

There are many types of “Immortals” and the different types have differing ranks and levels as well.

Celestial Immortals (天仙) - the top level of immortals. Known as Heaven Immortals. They are the immortals who have ascended to Heaven.

Earth Immortal (地仙) - these are mid-tier Immortals who have not yet ascended to the Heavens.

Ghost Immortal (鬼仙) - these are low-tier Immortals who will forever be restricted to the Earth/Underworld. They’ve cultivated too much Yin to be able to ascend to the Heavens.

Loose Immortal (散仙) - these are Immortals who, for whatever reason, have lost their position or have not been conferred a title/post in the Celestial Bureaucracy. In some novels, they are instead Immortals who’ve lost their physical body and now exist only in spirit form.

Another place that is mentioned often in xianxia (or even wuxia) is “Amnesia River (忘川水)”, which is a river that allows those who jump into it to forget all problems with love. Those who jump in will forget all the romantic relationships they have had.

Cultivation

Xianxia novels and dramas often feature characters practicing to become immortals (and in very rare cases - demons). Characters often go through taoist means of cultivation in order to achieve the status of an immortal. Protagonists (usually) attempt to cultivate to Immortality, seeking eternal life and the pinnacle of strength. It is the process of improving health, increasing longevity, and growing powerful. This is accomplished by cultivating Qi and training in martial & mystical arts. In many of these novels, the ultimate goal of cultivation is to become an Immortal or attain godhood. Reincarnations are also a common element in xianxia. Those who die retain their spirits, who can later possess another body.

Arguably the best xianxia drama ever - Chinese Paladin (仙剑奇侠传) starring Liu Yifei and Hu Ge.

The Difference Between Wuxia/Xianxia

Wuxia novels focus on humans and the struggles of the human world, while xianxia novels usually focus on celestials or immortals. The skills in wuxia may be exaggerated but martial arts is a true concept, and if one achieves mastery of martial arts, they could use it in self defense and defeat a good amount of people. The skills in xianxia are completely fictional (no one can shoot fire balls at other people). Wuxia focuses on humans and their quest to achieve mastery of martial arts, and xianxia focuses on humans who cultivate into immortals. There’s actually a third genre called xuanhuan that I would honestly put Ashes of Love and Eternal Love into, but that’s way too confusing.

Oddly enough, dramas like Ever Night (将夜) and The Untamed (陈情令) have called “wuxia” while they clearly have “xianxia” aspects. Ever Night talks of the Demon Realm and reincarnations, both aspects of xianxia dramas. The skills of the various schools and sects are also very unrealistic. However, the story resembles that of a wuxia story, and it does involve a young hero growing to become formidable and strong. The Untamed also has many “xianxia” aspects. It features a character cultivating to become a devil and also reincarnations and abilities that are far from realistic.

More Sources

This was a very light overview of two very interesting and long topics. If you want to learn more, I suggest this website. It covers many of terms seen in wuxia and xianxia works of fiction and does it in a lot of detail. I will say that a lot of this information isn’t really presented in wuxia and xianxia dramas, so even if you didn’t really understand, you’ll have no problem watching dramas anyways. However, these two genres are actually really interesting and act as a gateway for the modern viewer to understand more of Buddhism, Daoism and Chinese Mythology.

#Cdrama #cdrama analysis #wuxia #xianxia #information #crouching tiger hidden dragon #the untamed #eternal love

737 notes · View notes

tallmantall · 1 year

Text

#JamesDonaldson On #MentalHealth – What Is Passive #SuicidalIdeation And How Can I Spot The Signs?

0 notes