Author Archives: andreajplaid

Three Sistahs Talk Feminism And White Women

By Andrea Plaid

Home Girls

Happy New Year, SBF family!

We deeply apologize for our silence. Tami and I are going through some deep life changes on our ends–my relocating to Philadelphia and starting a class on social-justice writing while looking for steady-income work; Tami becoming an adjunct professor; both of us pitching story ideas and writing for other media outlets–so, we haven’t been around as much.

Forgive us?

One of the the project Tami and I are involved in is our homie Sofia Quintero’s upcoming transmedia book, Feminists Hate Men, which takes on the myths we’re so familiar with about people who work towards gender equity. According to Sofia:

“The ebook is going to be free to download for those who register for the Feminist Love Project which is a telesummit I’m launching in March 2014. The event itself is free, too. Registration opens on Valentine’s Day.”

We’ll give you more details about the telesummit soon!

In the meantime, after the jump is an excerpt from the upcoming e-book of Sofia, Tami, and me discussing the notion that feminism is for white women. (Unfortunately, we don’t have the transcript yet. Sofia said she’ll provide it soon!)

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Weekend Reads: Shaming Women And Private Chats Still Go-To Humor For Internet

Editor’s Note: Even though the Elan Gale incident was proven to be a hoax, that that perpetrator and millions around the internet thought such a misogynist thing would be funny and appropriate remains.

Tweet As You Want To Be Tweeted

I can’t help but wonder if Diane had been built like the Rock and named Dimitry, if Gale would’ve passed his “eat my dick” note up to seat 7A.

I have a feeling Gale would’ve just kept his indignation about rude behavior to flight attendants confined to Twitter. But clearly, there’s nothing more noble than shutting down a woman you think is being difficult and annoying by telling her “idiot face” to eat your penis. She deserved it cos she was rude, right?

I also wondered what would’ve happened, and whether the general public would’ve found it hilarious and awesome, if a black man was tweeting about telling a white woman to eat his dick.

Yeah, I really wish a black man—or how about an Arab man wearing a turban—would pass a note to a white woman on an airplane saying that “eat my dick” mess. I doubt the flight attendants would’ve been giving a wink and nod, as they appear to have done to Gale. Security would most definitely have been waiting when they deplaned.

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We Rise Together: Resisting White Institutional Culture In Publishing

By Daniel José Older; originally published at his eponymous blog

Journal and Coffee

Had coffee with Saeed [Jones] today and we were talking about how, as people of color, we are socialized to feel gratitude to even have a seat at the table in the publishing industry, and how silencing that discomfort can be, the challenges of knowing how and when to push, how to gain and maintain a strong footing and sense of self while navigating the swamps of the literary world.

Then I went home and looked over a contract, noticing how every part of me just wanted to say, “It’s fine! It’s fine! Whatever you got for me is fine!” because I’m still just so happy to be paid for writing something, aghast at what that is and, even though I know I’ve earned it and I know it’s my path, there’s always that voice trying to barge its way in saying, Stay in line, be careful how you come across, don’t ask for too much, because it’s fragile, the weird world of publishing, the undefined, over-defined, never full, outlined beast called success.

And so WTF is success, right? I prefer the term “victory” because that’s what it feels like when shit comes together, but “success” is the word we hear most after the word “literary,” and what we believe to be “success” and “not success” matters. It matters a whole lot and what we’re never taught to do, not in MFA programs, not in [ridiculous] online how-to-be-a-writer-troll-ass blog posts, not damn anywhere–except maybe if you go to VONA–is that we have to, have to–as in it’s-a-matter-of-survival have to–deconstruct the fucked-up narrow version of success that we’re spoon-fed and create for ourselves a new understanding of what that means. Each of us has to do this, and we have to do this as a community.

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A Shift In The SBF Schedule

Hey, SBF community–

typewriter

First of all, thank you so very much for supporting our blog so far, even when our posts are late!

When we started this blog, we wanted to make sure that we gave you thoughtful–sometimes silly, sometimes saucy, but always going for thoughtful–posts about race, gender, sex and sexuality, class, dis/ability, and age, among other issues, as seen from our particulars views as Generation X feminists.

And we also know that those posts take time to write. Lots of time. And, between all of our life happenings–major life moves, day jobs and paying gigs, and families, among other things–we think it best to pare down our writing schedule in order to maintain the quality of posts you expect from Squeezed Between Feminisms. So, we’re going to post a regular writing on Fridays. If we have more posts during the week, we’ll definitely let you know on Facebook and Twitter.

See you next Friday, SBFers!

–Best,

Tami and Andrea

Community Comment: Cussing Out And Forgetting Feminist Foremothers

Editor’s Note: This quote came as a response from Friday’s post about Jezebel and ageism online. Reposted with permission and edits.

Second Wave feminist Flo Kennedy. Image credit: Jo Freeman.

Second Wave feminist Flo Kennedy. Image credit: Jo Freeman.

“Well, the worst sign of ageism I noticed was a Jezebel writer forgetting a groundbreaking feminist author in her list of feminist scholars. There was a lively comment [thread] about it. To add insult to injury a young feminist came on and attacked the author herself for complaining about it (and hijacked the [thread] and promoted herself)! I see it also in commentaries that talk about the racist founding of Second Wave feminism, all the while completely ignoring the older women of color who were there. (I forget the waves maybe because I’m squeezed between them.) I think that upsets me the most. I welcome the discussion about race and feminism , but please let’s not add to the problem by ignoring the older women of color. I”ll start by naming Flo Kennedy. Or Faye Wattleton who is still here. Of course, we all know Loretta Ross, but I have yet to see her on The Rachel Maddow Show.

“We all felt the ageism too in the performance we did two weeks ago: “Between the Door and the Street.” Ironically, it was started by an older feminist but staffed by young interns, [sic] who, by the way, were paid.

“I’m glad we are bringing up younger women, but we need to take care of ourselves first, I think.

“P.S. I hate the Cialis adds but that has nothing to do with age. Why can’t birth control advertise? I think we all know the answer to that.”

~~Reynolds N. Art, artist

MILFs, Perimenopause, And Silence: Jezebel Shows Its Ageism—And Ableism And Sexism–By Mocking The Cialis Ads

By Andrea Plaid

Cialis Is Here

Can I say that the more I deal with the rest of the ‘net, the happier I am that Tami and I started Squeezed Between Feminisms?

Two of the latest ageist microaggressions:

An online friend posted a great photo of actor Bill Murray dressed up as Jimi Hendrix sans blackface, which seems to be the new way to express how post-racial we are in the US. (/sarcasm). My online friend, a Black woman wrote: “Bill Murray slayed without a lick of blackface. [T]ake note, [W]hite people.”

A Black guy of indeterminate age posts: “lol, Bill Murray looks 138 years old.”

I replied: “Maybe his age gave him some wisdom to not do blackface, unlike the relative many 20-something and 30-something white kids who are?”

His response: “Co-sign with the above statement.”

Of course he does.

The second? From Jezebel–of course.

While founder Anna Holmes is on tour promoting The Book of Jezebel and some broadcast-media types are trumpeting the tome as, in so many words, online feminism writ in ink—even as some folks question whether the site itself is relevant as a feminist site anymore—some writer on the site had the mind to show how Jezebel stays losing that cache by going for cheap ageist, ableist, and sexist laughs over the Cialis ads.

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“Roll Tide!”: A Tale of Accidental Communities

By Aimee Thorne-Thomsen

Alabama Crimson Tide Sweatshirt

“Roll Tide,” said the young man standing next to me on the corner of North Capitol and F Streets. He’d been looking at me sideways for a couple of minutes, but I didn’t know why, nor did I care. I was on my way to help my colleagues set up for our annual youth conference, the Urban Retreat, dressed in jeans, sneakers and my Alabama sweatshirt. Not the costume I usually wear to work, but one I am much more comfortable in. We had crossed North Capitol alongside each other and were waiting for the light to change when he uttered the famous rally chant. He must have been gauging whether I really was a fan of the Alabama football team before he said it, though I am not sure how he measured that by looking at me sideways as we crossed the street. After my own delayed reaction, I replied, “Roll Tide,” with a smile.

I’m a lifelong sports fan, going to Yankees games as a child and jumping for joy when the Knicks drafted Patrick Ewing. Baseball, basketball, football, tennis, cycling, volleyball, swimming, track and field, etc we watched all of them when I was growing up. I can survive on a steady diet of ESPN and little else. Despite this, I was still surprised at how differently the college football universe is, especially if you cheer for Alabama. I mean when I walk around the streets of New York, I don’t acknowledge every Yankee fan I encounter. (Part of that is because as New Yorker, you don’t really acknowledge anyone, and the other part is there are so damn many Yankee fans that I would never have time to breathe if I acknowledged each and every one I encountered.) I know what you’re thinking: How does a girl from the Bronx become a fan of ‘Bama? I have no relationship to the University of Alabama, my family has no roots in Alabama, hell,  I’ve never even been to Alabama. What gives?  How I came to yell “Roll Tide!” is a story of accidental communities.

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