Over the past fortnight I’ve watched as a familiar narrative re-emerged around rapper Kanye West. Basically, Kanye’s an arrogant ranting asshole who needs to shut up, and stick to music. The end.
Admittedly, Kanye doesn’t help his cause. At times his behavior lends credence to what I think is a shallow theory.
Yes, Kanye West regularly makes outrageous statements about his overstated abilities and does silly things. But based solely on the Zane Lowe and Jimmy Kimmel interviews, Kanye’s fury can be distilled down to a single factor — he’s frustrated that despite his wealth, passion and accomplishments, he’s unable to start a joint venture with any of the major fashion companies. This frustration is deepened by the fact that he’s demonstrated he has influence over consumer buying habits and trends. Keep reading »
In a recent Yahoo! Shine article, a young, white, California entrepreneur, Mindy Budgor, was deemed a “warrior princess” after ditching her posh, luxury-filled life to become the first female warrior of the African Maasai tribe. Armed with Underarmor, pearl earrings and Chanel dragon red nail polish — which made her feel “fierce”– this nice Jewish girl from Santa Barbara, who loved “manis and pedis and warm croissants,” was heralded for singlehandedly empowering the Massai women. She even wrote a memoir about her experience. As a 23-year-old black college student, similar to Ms. Budgor, I set out on my own “spiritual quest” that landed me on the Big Island of Hawaii — miles away from my New Jersey home. But my experience was far less empowering for everyone involved. Keep reading »
It ended as quickly as it started. I felt his hand squeeze my butt, heard him shout “Nice!” and caught a glimpse of his back as he bolted off the subway car. I stood there, clutching the metal pole, utterly paralyzed. Did that really just happen? Did a random man just grab me and proceed to proudly proclaim to the B train that he had violated me?
Yes. It did.
I stood there, stunned. I began looking back and forth, desperately searching for a forgiving pair of eyes, a sympathetic nod of the head. Instead, I saw two young men smirking at me, their eyes scanning my Betsey Johnson dress, as if to remind me that what had just happened, if it was anything at all, was something I had brought on myself. Keep reading »
Now that Chelsea Manning has expressed a desire to medically transition through hormone replacement therapy, there are a lot of questions circling about what Leavenworth looks like for a trans woman, and how exactly someone might transition from male to female in prison. While Manning’s case itself is complicated, the question of what kind of healthcare someone deserves in prison is fairly simple. There are clear legal and moral arguments for Manning receiving hormones once they are prescribed by a doctor. This isn’t about what she did or did not do; it’s about the basic commitment we make as a society when we lock someone up.
When someone commits a crime, no matter how heinous, we still have an obligation as a society to provide their basic needs while they serve their time. As Lesley Kinzel argued when writing about the Michelle Kosilek case last year, “What makes us better than murderers is that we value human life, even the lives of those who don’t value life themselves, their own included.” Whether or not you agree with Manning’s release of classified information, we consider a decent life a collective value, enshrined in the basic rights that are guaranteed by our Constitution. Courts have already held that the 8th Amendment’s prohibition on cruel and unusual punishment confers a right to adequate medical care in prison, and medical experts and courts have consistently found that hormone therapy is a medically necessary treatment for transgender people for whom it’s prescribed. Keep reading »
Everybody has feelings about Jenji Kohan’s “Orange is the New Black.” I have all the feelings. Since the show’s debut, we’ve tossed opinions back-and-forth about the cast of characters and the powerfully written narratives that reveal the unseen lives of American’s imprisoned women. But of the many conversations that have surfaced, the most discernible for me is of the legitimacy of Piper Kerman, the memoirist about whom the show was made.
In brief, after getting involved with an international drug dealer, Kerman (a white woman) was indicted for money laundering and spent a year in a woman’s prison – you know, the usual account of a well-to-do white woman who graduated from Smith. She subsequently wrote a best-selling memoir, which was adapted for Netflix. You can watch all of season one there now; I finished it in less than a week.
The show follows her into prison and tells the backstory of several other inmates, many of them women of color. The storyline is emotionally riveting. We’re met with race-related segregation, which mirrors the actual prison experience where racial categories and separation are often strictly enforced. Piper’s race and class privilege are checked in the first episode when it’s revealed that she “read up” on prison etiquette before she arrived. One inmate gives birth in prison and comes back to her bunk child-free, showcasing the reality that two-thirds of incarcerated women are mothers and busting the myth that women who labor in prison get to keep their babies. As a birth justice activist, I wished they’d shown the inhumane way in which many prisons shackle women during labor. Keep reading »