Because we don’t talk about it. And as a result, people are surprised when we tell the truth about what people do to us when we speak our minds, when we dare to suggest that sexism exists and that we all have a role to play in ending it.
Yeah, I was surprised, too. The trailer is a mess.
Don’t get me wrong: vocal fry drives me mad. Up-talk makes me crazy.
But when you write about gender, sex, body image, pop culture, and the other things I write about, the sense that you’re unserious is compounded; not only are you a woman, but you write about frivolous feminine topics.
This is an age-old American story, a quintessentially American tension: when progress happens, when rights are granted or upheld, the spoils must be granted to Black men or to white women — but never to both at once. Time and time again, the twisted white supremacy and misogyny embedded deep in the heart of America demands that we choose: Black men or white women?
Among American dancers, this movie is a cult classic. Among Australian dancers — among Australians, generally — it’s just a part of national mythology.
I once told a young man about this rule, and he pointed out that for a lot of Americans, the books they read in high school, an age at which a lot of favorite books are seized upon, are written by men.
My grandmother, who will turn one hundred in a few short weeks, is as sharp as, and at times, sharper than, a tack. Her hearing has been going for years, but that hasn’t prevented her from completing the New York Times crossword almost every day.
I drink it because I like the taste, obviously, though it was an acquired one, like beer and coffee. But I also love the feeling of subverting people’s expectations.
Friends and colleagues, anyone who’s remarked of late that this dissertation seems to be taking rather a long time, please don’t imagine that this has escaped my notice.