I agree, Amanda.

In his review of Chris Rock's latest film Good Hair, Brian Prisco of Pajiba wrote the following. Emphases mine:

Good Hair follows a smart path from a simple question: what does it mean for a black person to have good hair? Make no mistake, this question — and this film — is meant for a black audience. That’s not to say a person of a different race couldn’t enjoy or appreciate it, but Rock is making the active decision to put the question to his people for his people.

Then there was Bob Cannon's concern in his review for Moviefone:

The question is, can a film this ethnocentric cross enough racial and social lines to approach the box office numbers of Michael Moore, the gold standard in successful documentary filmmaking?

Oh, was that the question?

My first reaction was, I have never seen a review of any of the majority of American movies that states, "this film is meant for a white audience," even though that statement would be accurate. Chris Rock, along with any other multi-million earning black performer, is not successful solely because of a black audience. Case in point: the first people I ever heard quoting Chris Rock in my presence were two white male teenagers in the late 90s. I don't think any of my black female friends have ever quoted Chris Rock to me.

My second reaction was akin to the feelings of Margaret from Jezebel. Emphases mine:

Almost every critic praises Good Hair, but for the most part, their reviews stick to a summary of the film and analysis of Rock as host/narrator. Several say they found themselves surprised by the information presented - possibly because, judging from photos found online, none of them reviewers actually have black hair. While this latter fact doesn't disqualify them from critiquing the quality of the film, the reviews do come from an outsider's perspective, like The New York Times' take, which notes, "One of the happy consequences of Good Hair should be a radical increase in white-woman empathy for their black sisters."

However, unlike Margaret, I do think that the reviewers' lack of black hair, or more precisely, their lack of knowledge about and historical perspective on black hair, does disqualify them from accurate critiquing the quality of the film. For instance, when Brian writes the following,

There’s a heartrending scene where Rock interviews five high school girls about what it means to look successful. Four of the girls are overweight with shiny straight tresses, and one adorable gal who looks like a young Jill Scott sits in the center with a subdued Afro. The larger girls then use her as an example — “no offense, you look cute but…” — of how to look unprofessional. As the girls explain how women with Afros don’t look trustworthy or successful and how they imply a disregard for rules or proper fashion, the camera pans in on the young girl quietly sitting sadly.

he doesn't notice that Chris Rock doesn't bother to question who decides what is "trustworthy or successful" or what is in "proper fashion." It's not like black women are running Fortune 500 companies. Okay, except for one Ursula Burns, who seems to have been successful in her ascent to the top of Xerox. And her hair also happens to be natural.

Also, thanks for the "overweight" qualifier. Always relevant when writing about black women.

Or when Brian writes,

Rock bookends his movie with the Bronner Brothers International Hair Show in Atlanta, GA. Having seen Blow Dry, I knew that hairstylists would go to ape-shit lengths to sculpt Barbies like a Food Network Cake Challenge. Having also seen Stomp the Yard, Drumline, and Snaps, I should have known that black people would take this to levels of sublime showoffsmanship which would make a peacock blush. But you’ve also seen those films and shows. Can you blame them? That shit’s bananas. (I don’t speak jive.)

he shows his behind by asserting that he knows black people because he saw and Stomp the Yard and Drumline? In the words of Angry Asian Man, that's racist! FYI, I don't speak jive either, turkey.

As if I know about white people because I saw Fired Up or Juno or Never Been Kissed. If Brian or Bob, or any reviewer, had mentioned School Daze, I would give them partial credit. Brian also neglects to mention Jason Griggers, the blindingly white stylist in the movie, who is favored to win the hair styling competition.

So who is the Amanda starring in the title of this post? She is one of the people who commented under Brian's review, and I share her sentiments. Emphases mine:

. . . My only concern is that you (apparently) asserted that the movie is meant for a black audience, basically just because it focuses on the cult of Good Hair as it relates to black people. (That is, if my interpretation of those paragraphs is correct.)

I'd like to offer that it would be valuable for all races and ethnicities to see a film like this so that we can understand the very particular effect that the "straight hair ideal" has on black women. In my humble opinion, saying that this movie is only for black people is a disservice to the message of the film. Good Hair might very well have a message of empowerment that is intended for a black audience, but I think that it is equally if not more important for other races/ethnicities - I'm going to venture that it's particularly important for whites - to see the time and effort black women spend on their hair. We need to have our eyes opened to the fact that society's projection of straight hair as more beautiful and professional is inherently discriminatory, and it forces black women to spend outrageous amounts of money at salons if they want to be taken seriously - both as professionals and as *beautiful* women.

If only blacks see this film, they may feel empowered, and they may experience some kind of epiphany about their relationships with their hair. Maybe. I can't claim to know, as I'm not black myself. But it is not up to black people to change society's perceptions about their hair - it's up to everyone else. That's why I think that the message is best received by people of all racial and ethnic groups, not just by a black audience.

And here is another comment I enjoyed, under Margaret's review:

@nyc-caribbean-ragazza: "I was talking to a friend of mine (black) who wondered if Chris Rock explained to his daughter that the reason her hair did not look like Mommy's is because Mommy wears a weave."

What. You. Said.
Times like, a kabillion.

It just staggers me the way everyone, including Mr. Documentary himself -- and I've met him, and he's cool, and can you tell, I'm really really disappointed -- is manifestly, steadfastly, resolutely ignoring this.

Considering that their two daughters were prominently featured, Malaak Compton-Rock, Chris Rock's wife, was glaringly absent from the film. I wouldn't assume she has a weave, but her hair has definitely been straightened. Chris never talks about his wife in the film, nor does he talk about his own decision to marry a black woman, not who has natural hair, but who has straightened hair. His decision comes off as hypocritical, considering the lengths he goes to in the film to show how harmful the straightening process can be, and how exploitative the weave business is. As Beet at Feministing Community puts it,

. . . it seems Chris Rock is criticizing black women who modify their hair to look straight yet he hardly even dents the larger issue of beauty standards shaped by society that constrict black women and contribute to their "need" to do this in the first place. This movie can be used as a reason to criticize black women who wear a weave but it doesn't really answer the question that if black women wore their hair more naturally, would they be accepted? . . .

I will leave you with this quote from actor Tracie Thoms, whose hair I would love to have growing out of my head:

"To keep my hair the same texture as it grows out of my head is looked at as revolutionary. Why is that?"

Why indeed. :|


Ooh, here is my favorite part of the movie:

Chris Rock: How old were you the first time you got a relaxer?

Maya Angelou: Ooh god. About 70.

Chris Rock: 70?

Maya Angelou: Mmhmm.

Chris Rock: You went your whole life?

Maya Angelou: Not my whole life. I'm still alive!

.

The Advocate

To you new readers, welcome! Here's where it started. Here is my first response. Here is my second response.

Please read to the end of this post before you get mad at me. Do not skim it and then accuse me of meaning things that I did not say.

#

Every day I gain a deeper understanding of why there are so few (straight) women in comedy. No wonder I have to turn to Logo for funny female role models. I do enjoy Maria Bamford, Becky Pedigo and Wanda Sykes and Janeane Garofalo whenever I catch them on Comedy Central. But aside from them and a few others, the most prominent female comedians are lesbian, bisexual, or some other kind of queer person. To maintain a career in an already vicious field, women really have to not care what men think of them.

Another thing I appreciate more every day is the common language of TV I share with some of my friends, along with a couple others who don’t have blogs. It’s like those episodes of Will & Grace when the title characters played that word guessing game with Joe and Larry and Rob and Ellen, and Will and Grace won the prized Suck on It cup every time. I take for granted that my friend Chrissy can ask me an incomplete question ("Bangs?"), I can answer it with a single word or phrase ("Nancy McKeon."), and the discussion will be over with both parties completely satisfied. I forget that not everyone else I interact with is necessarily on the same wavelength as I am just because they also blog about TV, or in this case, sexual dynamics in American media.

To get you readers on my wavelength quickly, read the articles linked below, retitled by me. Most of them are examples of what happens when individuals don’t even challenge the patriarchy, but simply point out its existence:

Feministing, Kos, and Harassment of Women Bloggers. Here are some more anecdotes on the subject.

Who should apologize for the apparent racism in Resident Evil 5?

You say potato, I say misogyny, including getting a woman drunk in order to have sex with her.

Giving you the benefit of the doubt

I was never mad that people didn’t share my point of view on Superbad or on the creators of the movie. I wasn’t mad when I made my initial comment under the review on Pajiba. I was amused by my cleverness, because I do like to work a phrase. I was taken aback when one male-identified person used the word "feminist" to insult me, and then insinuated that I wasn’t funny. I was annoyed when another male-identified person told me to "STFU." I was perturbed when another one called me "a complete fucking idiot" and told me to "go and get off [my] soapbox."

I didn’t mind defending myself or my views. I saw it as good practice for when I become a superstar, and people like Chris Matthews and Tucker Carlson will try to double team me on Hardball. I also appreciated that some people stood up for me, pointing out that feminism is not a bad word, and that Pajiba is a perfectly acceptable place to talk about gender relations in movies.

What made me mad--besides being subsequently lectured on misogyny, told that I should "choose [my] words more carefully," and blamed for attracting the trolls in the first place (thank goodness I wasn’t wearing a short skirt)--was that none of the people who run Pajiba said anything at all during the whole time that this vicious conversation was going on. Not one word. And yes, I am going to call them out. The silent staff included Dustin Rowles, Publisher; Seth Freilich, The TV Whore; Phillip Stephens, Lead Critic; John Williams, Critic; Agent Bedhead, Critic; Stacey Nosek, Critic; Ranylt Richildis, Critic; Constance Howes, Critic. Did I forget someone? Oh yes, the Managing Editor of Pajiba and the person who wrote the Superbad review, Daniel Carlson.

In his response to the madness, Dan wrote a post on his own blog: "Arguing On The Internet Is Like Running In The Special Olympics: Even If You Win, You're Still Retarded."

Retarded? Well then.

In said post, Dan wrote "the Pajiba staff has a bit of a feminist skew — we all loves us some Joss Whedon, after all." Huh. TK also mentioned later that he supposes that he’s a feminist himself. I could make a quippy remark here, but I won’t. "Feminist" isn’t something you simply declare yourself because you believe that people of all genders should have equal rights. Feminism does not begin and end with denouncing Captivity. Feminism also involves some sort of action, or at least reaction, on your part. I’m not asking anyone to march in front of Planned Parenthood or headline the next NOW convention. I’m saying that a feminist should not remain silent when someone is being attacked for being a feminist. Especially on the blog that you run. Especially when you wrote the review . . . and anticipated the result:

"But I also must confess that I knew exactly what I was doing when I wrote that in the movie, "no woman is seen onscreen who isn’t talking to a man." I knew that would piss certain people off, and what's more, I've been writing for Pajiba for so long that I had a pretty good idea of exactly who would be pissed off, or anyway I had it narrowed down to half a dozen likely candidates."

After his confession, Dan then deemed the entire Superbad discussion--that he knowingly and purposefully incited--a "pissing contest" and that those involved should just "let it go." I’m sure the trolls that attacked me let it go a long time ago. They got their jollies by insulting an opinionated woman, then they went back to their lives, secure in their privileged status as part of the patriarchy. I, on the other hand, was not arguing for kicks. Nor was I incensed because Superbad "violates [my] views of empowered womanhood." I was defending myself because I was attacked. I was targeted not just because I am a feminist, but because I am a feminist woman. Dan, TK, and many other men are feminists, too, and that’s great. (I hope you all are still reading.) But they are not women. At the end of the day, they will always have their male privilege to fall back on. Similarly, I’m an advocate for the LGBT community, but I never purport to fully know what it’s like to be lesbian, gay, bisexual or trans. I can sympathize, and sometimes empathize, but at the end of the day, I will still have my heterosexual privilege in our society. Therefore, if someone in the LGBT community said they were discriminated against or attacked or hated for their sexuality, I would think long and hard (dirty!) before I challenged their claim.

Someone once said something like, "To be black in America is to be angry all the time." (If one of you readers knows the quote, please let me know.) Gloria Steinem has been quoted as saying, "In my heart, I think a woman has two choices: Either she's a feminist or a masochist." Try being black and a woman. You get very attuned to when and why people don’t like you or what you have to say. Imagine if I were queer, too: I’d have even more to say.

My point is this: why didn’t any of you on the Pajiba staff stand up for me? I’m not some obnoxious stranger; I’ve been a regular reader of yours for over a year now. Why didn’t you read what I was saying and realize that I wasn’t just arguing for argument’s sake? Why did you assume that my part in the "stupid, bickering, masturbatory bitchfest" was equivalent to the spiteful comments of those who told me to go away because I wasn’t born male and therefore my perspective was not relevant? Why was there no attempt made to moderate the discussion? I know I wasn’t the only one who felt strongly about how I was being treated. I also know that there are other girls and women who saw what happened to me and will come to the conclusion that Pajiba is a place where they should be careful about voicing their opinions: because there is a good chance they too will be harassed if they do. These questions are not rhetorical; I encourage any and all of you to leave a response.

I risked something by defending myself and my views on the Superbad comment thread. But I risk even more by writing this post. I risk alienating myself from the entire staff of Pajiba, and their Pajiba Love posse, people whose blogs I read on a regular basis and often enjoy, people whom I want to like me and my writing. I risk sounding like just another angry feminist who can’t take a joke or appreciate yet another R-rated comedy made for white heterosexual teenage males. I risk being ostracized from a community—a community that, considering my media background, I have every right to be a part of—because I spoke up for myself and I didn’t back down.

I could remain silent. I could pretend that I’m not upset about what happened and that it’s okay that no one who runs the blog came to my defense. I could choose to stop reading Pajiba and Slowly Going Bald and all the rest. That’s what usually happens when women get attacked. They get blamed for their own victimization, leave the site of the incident, then they try to pretend it never happened. The attackers go on living their lives, sans punishment, and even get rewarded by their victim’s silence, which is what the attackers wanted in the first place. And the people who said nothing are glad the drama is over.

However, I’m not going to shut up. I’m not going to go away. I’m going to see what happens next.

Thanks for reading!

And I'm not sorry.

You know what I love? When some guy tries to school me on the definition of misogyny. (Scroll down to the bottom for the reference.) Because he would know better than me. Despite the fact that I have been doing significant research on women studies, gender studies, and sexual orientation since I was fourteen years old, I'm sure he has the vast knowledge and depth of experience to tell me what is and what is not misogyny, at the very moment I have become the victim of it.

I will comment on all of that craziness, and on Dan's . . . response later. For now, since is the almost end of August, I am going a two week blog vacation. Everybody else is doing it, so why can't we? I'll be back on Labor Day with some choice words for some choice people. I will still be able to see the comments on this blog through my email, so feel free to leave some witty musings.

To anyone to voiced their support for me on the Superbad comment thread: Thank you. I really appreciate it. I often have to defend my views and even my very existence all by myself. It's wonderful when I have help from people who understand where I'm coming from, even if they don't necessarily agree with me.

Until September, I leave you with the abridged lyrics to Madonna's "Human Nature." I usually hate to quote song lyrics to express my emotions, because I think it's silly and overdone. However, this ditty fits the situation perfectly:

Express yourself, don't repress yourself

And I'm not sorry
It's human nature
And I'm not sorry
I’m not your bitch don't hang your shit on me

You wouldn't let me say the words I longed to say
You didn't want to see life through my eyes
You tried to shove me back inside your narrow room
And silence me with bitterness and lies

Did I say something wrong?
Oops, I didn't know I couldn't talk about sex
[I musta been crazy]
Did I stay too long?
Oops, I didn't know I couldn't speak my mind
[What was I thinking]

You punished me for telling you my fantasies
I'm breakin' all the rules I didn't make
You took my words and made a trap for silly fools
You held me down and tried to make me break

Did I say something true?
Oops, I didn't know I couldn't talk about sex
[I musta been crazy]
Did I have a point of view?
Oops, I didn't know I couldn't talk about you
[What was I thinking]

And I’m not sorry
[I'm not apologizing]
It’s human nature
[Would it sound better if I were a man?]
And I’m not sorry
[You're the one with the problem]
I’m not your bitch don't hang your shit on me
[Why don't you just deal with it]

And I’m not sorry
[Would you like me better if I was?]
It’s human nature
[We all feel the same way]
And I’m not sorry
[I have no regrets]
I’m not your bitch don't hang your shit on me
[Just look in the mirror]

And I’m not sorry
[I don't have to justify anything]
It’s human nature
[I'm just like you]
And I’m not sorry
[Why should I be?]
I’m not your bitch don't hang your shit on me
[Deal with it]

For some more heated Apatow debate,

visit Pajiba, read Morals and Ethics and Carnal Forbearance, Dan's review of Superbad, then enjoy the comments that follow. The drama started when I read the review, then posted this statement:

...teen comedies, even ones written by men as smart and talented as Rogen.

Ha ha ha! That was a joke, right?

In addition to shoving the girls into short-shorts and not letting them say much -- no woman is seen onscreen who isn't talking to a man...

I am sooo not seeing this movie. Furthermore, I still can't understand why seemingly intelligent people will watch this movie, acknowledge that every woman on the screen is portrayed solely as a potential sperm receptacle, then declare the writer of said movie "smart and talented." It doesn't take that much "talent" to essentially remake American Pie.

Then came this comment from "Johnny":

Hey Bianca, if you're trying to reinforce the stereotype that feminists don't have a sense of humor, it's working.

Oh, you know it was on now. After I replied to Johnny's ejaculation, I was then told by "Allen" to "STFU" because I obviously "haven't been a teenage boy" and I "don't have a sense of humor or perspective."

Really?

Then "dave" informed me that I was "a complete fucking idiot" and that I should "get off [my] soapbox please."

Well, he did say please.

People like my Mummy would have told me, "Bianca, pick your battles," or, "ignore those fools; they don't deserve a response." This is an excellent example of why there are "so few women on digg." If I voice my reaction to a movie marketed as inherently sexist (and passively discriminatory towards nonwhite people as well), I am told by certain hateful males that I am a humorless feminist who needs to shut up, because I wasn't born with the right genitalia and therefore my opinion is not valid. If I say nothing, my silence is acceptance: the film's co-writer Seth Rogen is indeed "smart and talented," despite the fact that he excels at casting a female lead "simply because she’s 23 and looks good in just a bra and has no qualms about portraying [an] interchangeable female archetype" Faced with this dilemma, what's a good feminist to do?

This feminist decided to stay and fight. And by fight, I mean I responded both politely and effectively to the trolls, using my wit and charm to get my points across. Subsequently, I was met with some hostility, but I also got some good support, even from people who initially disagreed with me.

I'm tired of backing down online when I'm right. I did it once before a few years ago when the moderator of a certain unrelated forum twisted my words, inserted his own, and insisted that I was calling him a racist. Because to him, it was worse for me to call him a racist, than it was for him to espouse discriminatory beliefs towards certain nonwhite people. I chose to leave that forum because it was no longer beneficial for me to be there. I didn't regret that decision at the time, and I don't regret that decision now.

However, I'm not going to stop reading or commenting on Pajiba because some ignorant guys aren't ready for this jelly. They need to get ready. They don't need to call my words "insulting and immature," then suggest that I "fuck off." They need to step up and bring something to the plate. And if they can't? Then they need to step off.

We're back!

Hooray! It's been quite a time. There was the blog situation, of course. Then I got sucked into a dialogue on Pajiba about Maggie Gyllenhaal posing for a overpriced lingerie company. I've talked about this concept before: talented, well-known female actors do not need to take off their clothes for money or additional fame. So you can figure out what my response was to the unfortunate announcement about Ms. G. Then today, my car battery finally died. I had to get my car jump started and then haul my tuchis to the nearest repair place, which was in the Valley, i.e. the hottest place in the LA County. There has been other work related stress, too. And, my big TV is still out at the repair shop for possibly two more weeks.

It has indeed been a time.

With all of these emotions wrapped up inside me, I think it's time for the Krump:

Today's articles of note:

ESPN's Secret Interoffice Complaint Memorandum, filed under "please give me back my stapler" at Deadspin, via Pajiba and YesButNoButYes.

The managers [at ESPN Headquarters in Bristol, Connecticut] in order to better maintain positive employee relations, host occasional "Town Meetings," in which the rank-and-file question their department heads about all the usual matters that come up in an office. It's our pleasure to have come across a complete transcript of an inter-office memorandum from John Skipper himself, answering all the different gripes from the ESPN staff...

Here are my favorite inquiries and their sad middle management responses (emphases mine):

Question:

I have requested the idea of having a speed bag set-up in the health & fitness center. My response to the question when presented to some of the staff members is "no room for it" or "people don't really know how to use a speed bag properly." I fully am aware of the space issue but anyone can learn how to use one. But I'm still not sold on the belief that space is the issue. Proper planning of the layout for one would allow for such a piece of equipment to be implemented to the facility, (basically, re-arrange some equipment and voila!)

Answer:

We are currently assessing whether or not a speed bag would be a piece of equipment that our members would utilize. It is a piece that is occasionally requested, but not often. Space is certainly an issue with regard to where and how the speed bag would be mounted without causing traffic flow issues or potential injury to members. We will certainly keep this request on the table for future consideration.

Question:

I know that it is human nature to find fault and seldom praise staff members. Everyone knows this is counter-productive. I would like to see improvements here. Do you agree everyone should be praised when they do a good job? Catch people doing something right?

Answer:

Recognition and praise for a job well done is always in order. If you see opportunities for us to do so, be sure to bring it to the attention of your manager.

Question:

Can employees keep the trees that ESPN throws away when doing new construction?

Answer:

No, employees cannot keep the trees. ESPN analyzes all trees and shrubs that are scheduled to be displaced. Once it is determined which trees and shrubs can survive the move we have them bagged, tagged and relocated. Anything left is then the possession of the contractor. Many of the trees and shrubs at the cafe project have been transplanted at Building 4 and other locations on the campus.

I guess the jocks are suffering through Corporate America just like the rest of us.

#

Critics Question Whether A 40-Day Stay At 'Kid Nation' Summer Camp Is Healthy For A Child's Emotional Development, from Defamer.

With outrage over Isaiah Washington's unexpected casting in Bionic Woman fading, a new, and dare we say much more interesting, controversy is materializing at the TCAs over Kid Nation, CBS's attempt to inject some much-needed Lord of the Flies-style fun into their Fall schedule. Earlier, TV Week reported on how the producers took advantage of subsequently tightened loopholes in New Mexico's child labor laws and classified the production as a "summer camp" (summer camps, after all, are totally fun, and not at all child-exploiting places of employment) to get the show done...

I'm signing up my unborn children for Labor Camp, er, Kid Nation, right now!

#

Feeling way too white, by Emily L. Hauser at The Christian Science Monitor via Racialicious.

I'm white and live in Oak Park, Ill., a surprisingly multicultural, upper-middle-class suburb of Chicago. The street I crossed separates my town from the city neighborhood of Austin, an almost entirely black part of Chicago. Though I often traverse it by car, I never have on foot. One day, I thought: Huh. Why not?...

...Yet as I stepped over the curb, I became excruciatingly aware of my skin color, and my heart pounded with social anxiety. In going around a single block, I got stares. Mine was the only white face around, and for five minutes, five blocks from my home, I was a stranger in a strange land.

Of course, I'm that kind of white American for whom this shouldn't be true. I grew up in the 1970s, singing "We Shall Overcome" at school assemblies. I've had black bosses, written about Kwanzaa, and know what Juneteenth is. I even have a black cousin!...

I have a black cousin, too! I wonder if we're related.

I would respect Elisha Cuthbert more...

...if she did actual porn. Oh wait.

I Am Pissed the Fuck Off, Dustin's review of Captivity, on Pajiba. An excerpt:

When [Cuthbert's character Jennifer] rebels — when she tries to escape — she’s put in her place by the “man,” like all women should be, I suppose. She’s drugged. Chased with a bone saw in a heating duct. Drugged again. Buried in sand. Drugged again. Made to choose between blowing a hole in her dog with a shotgun or getting shot in the face with it (she chooses the former, and the dog’s guts explode in her face). And, worst of all, she’s made to ingest a smoothie of blended human parts through a funnel. Just for kicks. Sick motherfucking kicks. And, of course, through it all, there are more damsel-in-despair cries than a goddamn Olive Oyl costume party.

I thought I had been grossed out by the idea of "Rider Strong...fucking a gaping sore in a chick’s upper thigh in Cabin Fever." I thought I had said my peace (piece?) on already famous women accepting unnecessarily degrading roles when Jenna Fischer posed kinda naked for Wired magazine. But this atrocity takes the cake. Other people have also shared their views, so I'll let you all do some reading:

The 'Captivity' Premiere Party: A Delightful Evening of Meticulously Planned Outrageousness, from Defamer.

Because imprisonment is so hot. by Vanessa on Feministing.

Remove the Rating for Captivity, by Jill Soloway on The Huffington Post, which includes a letter by Joss Whedon. Yes, the same Joss Whedon. He's pretty cool. I should watch Serenity/Firefly, and those other shows he did. Then he'd have at least one fan. :)

Insert Scream Here.

Yet another blog has linked to my blog without my asking! Hooray for me! You can live the excitement in the Knocked Up review at Pajiba. Apparently I made the argument that "the underlying conservative message of Knocked Up necessarily [has] to be hostile toward feminism." I was mostly trying to make a clever comparison between the respective stars of Undeclared and My Father The Hero. But yeah. Those darned conservatives wreaking havoc on feminism. Sure...Whatever gets you readers to leave a comment.

I'm so cool! Plus, someone called me "an idiot" in the remarks that followed. Wow!

My Saturday: Living the Black Experience

I got my hair straightened this afternoon. Now I can scratch my head again after a week of only being able to pat at itchy spots. I don't think I got burned, but my head did ache from the parting of my 1-2 inches natural growth. Yikes. My scalp was not happy with the comb pulling through the jungle that is my hair. I'm okay now, though. The relaxer took, and my hair is all shiny. Enjoy while you can, people; I'm getting it braided tout de suite. Meaning, next weekend, I hope.

While I was sitting under the dryer for the two hours it takes for my hair not to be wet anymore, I was reading Souls Looking Back: Life Stories of Growing Up Black. I borrowed it from the lovely and modern Santa Monica Library, along The Color of Our Future: Race in the 21st Century, which I haven't begun reading yet. I had spent much of Friday afternoon in the library reading Coal to Cream: A Black Man's Journey Beyond Color to an Affirmation of Race. It was mostly about the author's enchantment with, then disillusionment of, the race and color structure in Brazil and other South American countries, as compared to his experience growing up as a black man in the United States.

As I was reading these stories, I thought about many of these people's struggles in relation to my own upbringing. Growing up in St. Thomas wasn't perfect, and spending four years at LMU had its own frustrations. But for the most part, life was very good. Very good. Much of that was a function of my middle class background, my well-meaning parents, my intelligence, and my drive to succeed. I had never thought that because I was black I couldn't do something. I had never thought that because I was a woman I couldn't do something. Not doing something was not an option, not in my Middle and Upper School, and not in my home. None of my teachers thought I was doing well for a black student, or for a girl. They thought I was excelling for a student in my class.

The only times during high school when I felt like something was off was when I went away to summer programs at university. During the summer after ninth grade, I went to Exploration at Wellesley. At the time, I didn't think anything was weird. I learned about making videos, gender roles in American society, and discrimination against gay people. Oh, and the Summer Olympics. What I didn't realize until later was that almost all of the black kids at Explo were hanging out together exclusively. Meaning, sans moi. I just thought they all knew each other. All the friends that I made at Explo were white or Asian. And I never thought about that fact until I was in college. I never noticed that they were white or Asian. I just thought they were nice people.

The following summer, I went to the Institute of Television, Radio and Film Production at Boston University. Out of 54 people, three of us were black. We were also all girls. The rest of the people were mostly white, except for one of my friends who was an Asian guy. He carried around a small cow whom he called Le Moo. That's not relevant to the story, but it's true. Oh, and another of my friends was an Asian girl, who I think was a transcultural/transracial adoptee, because her parents came to Family Day, and they were white.

Anyway, there were a few other high school student programs going on at Boston University at the same time that shared a dorm with us. One was maybe music related, one was science related, one was drama related. And then there was Upward Bound. Or Outward Bound. One of the two. It involved taking inner-city youths, i.e. mostly black folks, and putting them in classes at the university for six weeks. I didn't really interact with any of them outside of the mandatory group activities provided for all the programs. But the two other black girls in ITRP did. Again, I had thought, maybe they know them. At one point, one of my tablemates in the cafeteria, who was in either the science or drama program, was surprised that I was in ITRP. He thought I was in...something else. He didn't specify what, and I didn't ask, but I'm sure he had assumed that I was their for Upward/Outward Bound. Why? I wondered to myself. The only people I was hanging out with that summer were all sitting at the table with me, and they were all from ITRP. It was glaringly obvious that I was in ITRP, yet he thought I was in some other program because I was black.

The icing on the cake was when the programs had the final dance before we all went home. All the ITRP, science and drama people had a dance together. But the Upward/Outward Bound people had a separate dance on a different night. What? That was the most bizarre thing to me. When I came home at the end of my summer, I mentioned this to my Mummy. First, she told me that I had gained weight. Hmph. The food was good. Well..it was plentiful and paid for. Again, not related. Then she expressed her understanding for separate dances and that Upward/Outward Bound people probably preferred it that way. What? That's not cool. We didn't have separate "ethnic" people dances at my school. Not like we could; there weren't enough people for that. I guess the people who ran the programs acknowledge that different people, i.e. white people and black people, liked different music, and having separate dances would make more people happy. But it didn't make me happy. Yes, I did have a good time at the white people dance. Yet I am still disturbed to this day that there was so much silently acknowledged racial division amongst these Boston University programs that our last events celebrating our summer of collegiate level learning had to be officially segregated.

Back to today. After my hair was done, I went to the Fox Hills mall to look for jeans on sale at Lane Bryant. My bum-bum has now expanded to size 16, and my old favorite jeans no longer fit comfortably. It's always a time at Fox Hills. Some of my friends prefer not to go there because it's too "ghetto" for them. Hmph. Yes, Fox Hills does cater to its black and Latino patrons. Meaning, there are multiple venues for purchasing athletic gear, "ethnic" hair care products, and baby clothes, just like the "mall" I grew up with in St. Thomas. But now that Fox Hills has an Old Navy, in addition to the Victoria's Secret, Macy's and Bath and Body Works that have always been there, shouldn't the disdain for the edifice decrease? Jeez. If only they had a Gap and an Ann Taylor Loft, I'd be set. I will admit that when I do see white people at Fox Hills, without at black or Latino friend, I wonder if they're lost. I'm such a racist.

I don't have anymore black experiences from today. I do have one from Wednesday. I found this article via Racialicious: The helplessness of white people. If you're reading this and you're my friend and you're white, I'm sure this doesn't apply to you. It's about those other white people (and some nonwhite people) who aren't as cultured and aware as you are.

Recently I attended a workshop about race and racism primarily attended by white people. And I was really struck by the expressions of helplessness with regard to dealing with racism: “We can’t do it by ourselves,” “We need people of color to help us,” “How can we make friends with people of color who can help us?” “We have no way of understanding race and racism.”

It was stunning to hear a bunch of well-educated people make so many statements about their inability to deal with the subject on their own. And it occurred to me that racism is still portrayed as the problem of people of color, to be solved by people of color. If white people are to work on anti-racism, we must carry them on our backs. Then we are expected to be grateful that they did any work at all. Yet this replicates long-held patterns of privileged behavior and denies primary responsibility.

This was my favorite part, emphasis mine:

There are many issues that concern me about transracial adoption...I think one of the most troublesome aspects of transracial adoption is the way it illustrates for me how white people are able to confer or deny visibility to people of color. In many situations, I’m aware of my invisibility. I know white adoptive parents who can’t pick me out of a room of same-race people even though they’ve “known” me for four or five years. And even in my community, they speak only to each other. What a way to teach your kid.

I couldn't imagine someone who has known me for any length of time not being able to pick me out of a room. I get picked out of rooms immediately. Mostly because I am never in a room with that many black people any more. Not by choice. I just no longer have the opportunity. :( I have seen that phenomena happen before, though. And it's so sad, because it says so much about the person who can't recognize their colleague of color.

Someone named Wendi then left a comment about how "people" and "person" usually stands for "white people" and "white person" in American media, while nonwhite people have to be described primarily by their color or ethnicity. For example, to paraphrase Wanda Sykes, if Tiger Woods committed a crime, the headline would read, "Black Golfer Arrested." I left a comment, too:

Wordy McWord, Wendi. That concept of “white” being the default and ethnic people being the “other” is something I come across in most books and almost every screenplay I have ever read. As if “black” can fully describe a character, considering the ever-persistent one-drop rule.

I used to be apologetic when I tried to explain my frustration with this my associates, as if I was the one with the problem. Well, no more! It is insulting to think that white people are the default and that non-white people must be described primarily by their race, color or ethnicity, especially when it has nothing to with the context.

That is all.

In woman experiences, I also left a witty comment on Pajiba, in response to The Daily Trade Round-Up on Thursday, called He's Just Not That Into Your Pajiba. I got a couple of good responses, too, including one calling me eloquent. So cool! You can scroll down and find it near the bottom, so you can read it in context. Or you can read it out of context here:

Word to Big Bird, molly and Jorden. Pajiba definitely needs more strong, talented female voices. It would only make your website stronger.

I read Pajiba religiously, but if you boys don't get something that is targeted at women, do not immediately write it off just because you don't have a vagina. I don't have a penis, but I can write coherently on why I won't be seeing Blades of Glory, and it has nothing to do with the fact that I'm not its target demographic.

I could go on for days about why I hate the book He's Just Not That Into You and the subsequent fame that it has brought Mr. Behrendt. I also hated half of the Traveling Pants movie because it ruined the stories of Lena and Bee, mostly with Alexis Bledel's bad acting. But, I loved the first and second Traveling Pants books, and I own all six seasons of Sex and the City. Daniel, I'm a Miranda, and I'm very of proud of that.

No matter how cute I think Adam Brody is, I won't be watching In the Land of Women, because the movie looks stupid. And if and when one of you writes a review of the movie for this site, please don't make the theme of your article, "I didn't understand this movie because I'm a guy." You can do better than that.

P.S. I liked Dunston Checks In. Mostly because I thought Graham Sack was cute. But Faye Dunaway was funny, too.

Whether you're into Jesus, or the bunny with the eggs, Happy Easter!