Ellen Page is right. You know what’s actually brave? Being actually gay and out in Hollywood!
Jodie Foster and her wife Alexandra Hedison at the Vanity Fair party Cannes 2016
one time i was hanging out with these two friends of mine, women i admire very much, and we reached this twilight zone moment where we realized that each of us had, at one point:
- dated a man who treated us very badly
- and for whom we made many sacrifices
- and who we defended to our friends
- because we needed to be supportive
- of his “genius”
- yes, he treated us badly but he was so smart and talented that maybe it was unfair to expect him to play by society’s rules, we told ourselves
- and it felt kind of embarrassing to demand something as gauche as kindness (ugh) or maturity
- from a “genius”
- we lived in fear of being The Nagging Girlfriend/Wife Who Doesn’t Understand Her Man’s Unique Vision.
- you know, the woman from the first half of any biopic about a great man. the first wife, the one he divorces before act two.
- instead we dreamed of being The Good, Supportive Girlfriend/Wife Who Knows Sometimes You Must Make Compromises.
- you know, the woman from the later half of any biopic about a great man. the second or sometimes third wife, depending on how long he lived or how many affairs he had.
it was genuinely chilling, because the longer we talked, the more it felt like all three of us had been handed the same invisible and very detailed script. we are all extremely liberal feminists and yet we’d still bought the whole narrative hook line and sinker, and i don’t think any of us fully realized how fucked up it was until we heard it from each other’s mouths.
i should note, maybe, that these two friends of mine are two of the most brilliant, talented, competent people i know. they were, in both cases, just as brilliant as the boy they sacrificed for. also they were, in both cases, capable of maintaining this brilliance while still tending to their own needs like an adult and treating the people around them with a fundamental level of respect.
so in case it helps anyone out there right now, struggling white knuckled to last into the second half of an imagined Great Man biopic: there is no level of intelligence or skill high enough to exempt a man (or a woman or anyone anywhere else on the gender spectrum) from the basic requirements of human decency. i don’t care if he is moving shit around with the power of his mind like matilda, he still has to say “please” and “thank you” and consider the feelings of the people around him. if he cannot or will not do these things, he is not a genius, he is a baby. AT BEST.
also, you are not the love interest of this movie. you are the fucking protagonist.
All men in our society benefit unfairly from male privilege, even among feminists, and this story is a stunning example of how. Even people who work very hard to dismantle patriarchal ideologies can find themselves acting out patriarchal, self-defeating narratives because they’re so deeply ingrained into our unconscious minds. Everybody who isn’t a man is taught from birth to revere men even when they’re mediocre, and to tolerate men’s abusive, self-centered bullshit. This of course applies much moreso to white men, and especially white straight cis (and otherwise privileged) men, but all men in our society get this to some degree. Their failings are more likely to be tolerated by those close to them, their good qualities will be more praised and rewarded, their endeavors more supported, their sacrifices more validated. Even if those men are themselves feminists.
After 30 YEARS the new MISS BRAZIL IS A BLACK WOMAN
Congratulations Raissa Santana.
This is one of my favorite pics of last night’s event (Miss Brasil 2016):
I mean, the hair. Espírito Santo’s contestant has my hair.
My natural hair.
On a beauty contest.
I cried a little.
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