When pop culture depicts transgender people, they usually do it in such a facepalm way that I wonder why anyone bothers anymore. The latest what-were-you-thinking? comes courtesy of Libra tampons in New Zealand, which aired a commercial that implies trans folks who dress as women are not “real women.” The commercial shows an ostensibly “real” woman standing next to a trans person in the bathroom, who I guess is a drag queen. They both put on their lip gloss and mascara and adjust their boobs in their tight party dress. Then the “real” woman pulls a tampon out of her purse. The drag queen makes a “hmmph!” face and walks away. Keep reading »
I really, really love this “I’m Feminist Enough” video in which a bunch of women finish the statement “I’m feminist enough to ….” It really shows all the contradictions inherent in trying to live life with a set of values where it’s damn near impossible to be “perfect.” What this video really says is that not being the “perfect feminist” is OK. All too often people who self-identify as feminists tear each other down for our differences, which isn’t productive to enacting the world change we all are so devoted to seeing. We really need more acceptance like this — of ourselves and each other. It’s also awesome that all the ladies in this video of women of color, who are not the “media-sanctioned” faces we associate with feminism. They’ve got a second and third video here and here. I hope to see more down the line! [Vimeo]
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An 18-year-old woman was raped and beaten by as many as six men on New Year’s Eve in Chicago. The young woman, described by the Chicago Sun-Times as a Highland Park High School senior from the suburbs, went to a concert by British DJ “Rusko” at the Congress Theater and was turned away because she had no ID. Security cameras caught the woman inside a Mexican restaurant walking away with six young men. The woman was found naked, beaten and bleeding at 9:30 p.m. that night. On Sunday morning, she was listed in critical condition and in a coma. Keep reading »
2011 had scarcely started before my life turned into a heaping pile of dog shit.
The Frisky was being sold to new owners and our jobs (and paychecks) were held in balance. My boyfriend started diddling around with some girl on the Internet, got caught, and dumped me. He asked me to move out of our apartment and I moved back into my childhood bedroom in the suburbs.
All this happened in the span of two weeks.
My life looked as bleak as the January freeze outside — which, incidentally, trapped me indoors with my parents during a blizzard for longer than should be considered legal under the Geneva Convention.
But friends, family and even strangers surprised me with their mercy in the days, weeks, and months that followed. My best friend, who lives an ocean away, called constantly. My sister drove me down to New Jersey to help me move out of my apartment. A reverend who I barely knew spent hours on the phone talking me down from ledges of broken confidence and self-hatred. Frisky readers wrote me the sweetest, most uplifting blog comments and emails that brought me to tears. Amelia let me sleep on her couch. As my life as I knew it fell apart, I saw the strength of my support system, which I hadn’t even known I had. Keep reading »