songofablackbird.

Ani DiFranco, a well known white “feminist” and queer singer songwriter, is holding a workshop event on a plantation in a town founded by racists….

Alright folks. I’m far from Tumblr famous but Ani DiFranco’s decision to host a retreat on a site where unspeakable abuses and horror occurred to enslaved people is absolutely disgusting. 

You don’t care if I’m Vietnamese. You don’t care about my truth. And I bet if I asked you to tell me the meaning of “woman,” you wouldn’t be able to give one that embodies the whole of what it means to be one. My body and my borders have been defined by you for too long. I am not an object of desire. I am not a background character in the self-congratulatory story of your existence. What is my truth? Who I am and how I define myself are none of your fucking business. Quit taking away my respect and start earning it.

Who run the world?

Eunice Hunton Carter ’21, first woman of color to join the New York district attorney’s office; instrumental in the conviction of mob boss Lucky Luciano

Catharine MacKinnon ’69, pioneering legal scholar; instrumental in sexual harassment being recognized as a form of sex discrimination

Ann Baumgartner Carl ’39, first woman to fly a jet plane (the Bell YP-59A, America’s first turbojet aircraft)

Gloria Steinem ’56, pictured with Ms. co-founder Dorothy Pitman Hughes

Betty Friedan ’42, author of The Feminine Mystique and founder of the National Organization for Women

Julia Child ’34, top secret researcher in the Office of Strategic Services and author of Mastering the Art of French Cooking

Molly Ivins ’66, bestselling journalist, political commentator, and humorist

letterstothrive:

"You get proud by practicing…" - Laura Hershey Some days you would tell them, the kids on the playground,  you were born different. Some days you would say you were just like them but needed a little help. Some of the time it felt real to say that your legs were broken and would never get better. Eight years old and you were into complexity. Not a bad start I would say. The only requirement was that you told these stories yourself because it was the only way. That time on your first day of middle school when you visited the second grade classroom and the boy took one look at you and dived underneath a bookcase, I’m sorry about that. You did a really good job luring him out with your warm smile and kindness, but it was totally reasonable for you to wonder when it was that you entered the business of assauging discomfort and why it is that you got so good at it. You were born into a world where disabled people were and are doing battle against an image of ourselves that was unthinkably negative and devaluing. I have learned about, indeed I have felt in myself, the sense of urgency that this instills. I sometimes scathingly refer to this as “operation overcompensation.” And it is unfair and it has done harm particularly, I think, to the disabled women of our generation. None of that is to undermine the horror of what people before us have experienced. I try to think a little bit everyday about the fact that I live at home with my family most of the time. When I’m not home I’m at school. These simple facts make me (us) different from most people before us. But in our efforts to prove ourselves, let’s try, not to lose our richness.  One time I was at a scooter demo with my mom and I met the first person ever who I consciously perceived as being a disabled activist. She told me that what her organization did was to raise hell until everything got better. I admired the sentiment, but could feel innately that that is not what I believed in. I do not eat nails for breakfast and I do not raise hell. I value nuance and complexity more that I value hard hitters. This realization evoked in me a good deal of self-loathing. I would lie in bed at night wondering if I would end up on the right side of history or have the courage to help my community. This, I’m sorry to say, is what you have to look forward to.  What I think now is this: the movement takes all types and who you are is valuable. I think the work of that movement is not to take an extremely negative narrative and flip it positive. It’s to challenge all narratives that make disabled lives seem simple. You are not worthless and you are also not a hero (yet), live rich and live messy (a concept I took from Harriet McBride Johnson—read her!) and you are doing the work of disability rights activism. That and tell your story  Part of what this means is that just as you question the systems that kept disabled people down, question the ones that govern the way we pull ourselves back up. Think about what it means to overcome disability, and how if we do maybe something gets lost. I promise that this way you will start to develop some pride in who you are. Also, think about how the narrative of overcoming compounds the stigma on people who can’t function within it. Think about how ideas about success are reinforced by societal forces bigger than any of us and that they leave people behind sometimes.  You need to know that understanding complexity doesn’t have to mean lacking moral grit. It just means being generous to people until you can’t be anymore. Like that time when the accessible theater led you through a garbage dump for the privilege of riding up their freight elevator, maybe we should have left that theater. Maybe equal access concerns are not segregation, but they are not ok either. So challenge yourself to navigate that thoughtfully.  Figuring things out is really a life-long process. Feel the urgency, don’t let it take your pride. I am writing to you from a place of hope still to come. 

Feminism, Race, and Resistance

Education in the City

Theories of Society

It’s between Marist, Smith, and Drew

you are eighteen — give or take a few

shots of espresso and one night stands —

and you are sandwiched in the backseat

of the car with the six suitcases you somehow convinced your mother

to let you pack for college — let’s call it,

being upfront to your roommate that you are

So. It’s been a while since I’ve written you all, folks. As far as I know, this will be the last update letter I will write you.

Dear Mr. President,

I voted for you.

Remember our collective responsibility to protect. It is important that as M23 peace talks occur, we also address the structural issues that allowed the group to come to power in the first place—the lack of a strong central government in the DRC, poor infrastructure, marginalization of groups in the east, and meddling neighbors. Please work to ensure adequate civilian protection—no drones needed!

Signed, Mac Hamilton from Northampton, MA