‘activism’

Badass Activist Friday Presents: Steph Herold

It’s Friday, and we all know what that means! Interviews with your favorite badass feminists and activists. Whether social media queens and kings, creative artists, sex educators, or just kick-ass personalities, these people harness righteous anger, instigate movements and inspire cultural change. We’re here to honor them and their work, but more importantly, to highlight how we can all get up, plug in, and Just Start Doing.

This week, we talked to Steph Herold, the person behind I Am Dr. Tiller. She is a reproductive justice activist and founder of the blog AbortionGang, a blog for young people in the reproductive justice movement. She tweets as @IAmDrTiller.

And without further ado, here’s our conversation!

Tell us about the origins of your project, I am Dr. Tiller. How did you get started and what did you hope to accomplish? To what extent have your expectations been met?

I was working in an abortion clinic in May 2009 when Dr. George Tiller was murdered. I had worked with him before, not closely, but sent patients to his clinic knowing they would receive compassionate and respectful care. The news of his assassination was devastating to me, as it was to the whole abortion provider community. We had a staff meeting at the clinic to discuss how we were feeling about his death and of course, our safety going forward. What came out of that meeting was the feeling that while we do everything we can to make sure our patients feel safe telling their abortion stories, abortion providers don’t have a place to share their experiences. I decided to take on this project and set up the site over the next day or so.

One of my goals with IAmDrDiller.com is to humanize abortion providers – to show that clinicians, abortion fund volunteers, clinic escorts, and all of us who work or have worked in abortion care are people with hopes and dreams, people who come to this work with compassion and deep respect for the decisions pregnant people make about their bodies. I hope that it has become both a space where providers can share their experiences and where others can learn what kind of people are called to this work.

It seems like the abortion debate is getting more and more heated every day, with personhood amendments being discussed left and right, and people like Michelle Bachman proclaiming their anti-choice views, to name just two examples. What are some of the reasons, in your opinion, that we still haven’t gotten any further in securing reproductive rights? How are women impacted by the situation?

This should be someone’s PhD dissertation! To simplify things greatly, there’s been a conservative backlash since President Obama’s election (look at the Tea Party, for example). Conservatives are trying to latch on to old ideals–fictions, really–like “family values” to regain their voice in the mainstream, because they are losing the cultural battle against progressive ideals (see: popularity of gay marriage). Too often they use abortion as a distraction from what they’re really targeting: the civil rights of people not like them, ie people of color, women, LGBTQ folks, low-income folks, etc. The challenge is how to successfully re-demonstrate to the public that their proposals, when they become law, have dangerous implications for the future of civil rights in the US, including but not limited to women’s health.

One huge factor specifically in the struggle to protect reproductive rights is not prioritizing the needs of poor women. The Hyde Amendment, which prohibits Medicaid funding for abortion, has been in effect since 1976.  Byllye Avery, founder of Black Women’s Health Imperative, once said, “When Medicaid was paying for abortion, that mere fact stated to women that it is all right to have an abortion if you want to. Taking away Medicaid funding says to poor women, ‘you can’t have this—you don’t deserve to have this.’” By sticking to the status quo of the Hyde Amendment, we’re saying that women who live paycheck to paycheck, who are below the federal poverty line, don’t deserve to have their insurance cover abortion care, but middle class women deserve coverage for the same procedure. It’s class warfare at the most basic level. When you see mainstream pro-choice organizations fighting for private insurance coverage of abortion but not saying anything about the Hyde amendment, this is the stigmatization of poor women in action.

It’s easy to see how the Hyde Amendment impacts a woman’s ability to access abortion care. If she lives in a state where Medicaid doesn’t cover abortion (most states), she has to come up with the cost of the procedure herself. Depending on how far along the pregnancy is, the abortion can cost anywhere from $300 to $12,000. Can you imagine coming up with that on your own, especially if you’re already struggling to make ends meet? After the first trimester, the cost of an abortion typically goes up week by week. While a woman is saving up money for her procedure, she may actually be “chasing the fee,” that is, by the time she raises the money for an abortion at 12 weeks, she may be 14 weeks pregnant, so the cost has gone up. This doesn’t even take into consideration the state-mandated hoops she may have to jump through to get the abortion, such as mandatory waiting periods or state-mandated counseling sessions.

Grassroots organizations called abortion funds exist to help women pay for abortions they otherwise wouldn’t be able to afford. You can find out more about abortion funds and how you can get involved to help low-income women access safe abortion care here.

This, of course, is only one piece of the puzzle. I fully believe in using a reproductive justice framework, which means fighting for all people to have the “social, political and economic power and resources to make healthy decisions about our gender, bodies, sexuality and families for our selves and our communities.  Reproductive Justice aims to transform power inequities and create long-term systemic change, and therefore relies on the leadership of communities most impacted by reproductive oppression.” (this definition courtesy of Asian Communities for Reproductive Justice).

Where do you see a connection between the fight to end sexual violence and the fight for reproductive justice?

Both movements are fighting for basic human rights: for all people to be treated with dignity, to live free from violence, and to have access to the comprehensive health care resources that they need. Our movements are about navigating the line between the public and the private: how much is my body mine?

Both movements challenge stigmatizing, deeply rooted sexist myths. The public’s imagined ”perfect” sexual assault victim is innocent, white, middle class, and wasn’t “asking for it.” The public’s imagined woman who has an abortion is an irresponsible, selfish baby-hater. As we know too well, both sexual violence and abortion affect all types of people: anyone can be a survivor, and anyone who can become pregnant can have an abortion.

Both movements challenge the idea that shame and stigma should be associated with our experiences, whether it’s sexual violence or abortion. To counter this stigma, we have speak outs, we take back the night, we march for women’s lives.

Women of color, trans folks, and low-income people are often both at the center and left out of our movements. Both movements are struggling to genuinely incorporate intersectionality into a classically second-wave feminist framework.

What allies do we have in terms of politicians and organizations? Who should we support if we want to help?

There really are some amazing reproductive justice-centered organizations out there. I can’t possibly name them all, but here are a few: SisterSong Women of Color Reproductive Justice Collective, National Latina Institute for Reproductive Health, Black Women for Reproductive Justice, Asian Communities for Reproductive Justice, SPARK Reproductive Justice Now, National Network of Abortion Funds, Black Women’s Health Imperative, California Latinas for Reproductive Justice, Native Youth Sexual Health Network, among many many more.

All of these organizations deserve respect and support. If you’re looking to get involved in grassroots reproductive justice work, I’d recommend looking up your local abortion fund and asking how you can help. Or if you don’t have a local fund, start one!

Are there any projects that you are currently supporting? Anything that you’re excited about and would like to share with our readers?

I’m on the board of the New York Abortion Access Fund, the abortion fund for New York State. We’re gearing up to celebrate our 10th anniversary, so that’s something to keep an eye on. I’m hoping to be on a panel about abortion stigma and story sharing at the next CLPP reproductive justice conference with Kate Cosby Cockrill of Advancing New Standards in Reproductive Health and awesome activist Katie Stack. I also founded and continue to write for a blog called the Abortion Gang, a community blog for young people in the reproductive justice movement. I’m always up to something–for people who are interested, feel free to follow me on twitter!

 

Thank you for your time and your great answers, Steph!

 

 

 

“Beauty in Truth” – a film about Alice Walker

Have you heard about the documentary Beauty in Truth yet? It’s a film about author, poet and activist Alice Walker, directed by award-winning filmmaker Pratibha Parma and her partner Shaheen Haq. The two have finished shooting the movie, and as they start the editing process, they need all the support that they can get. On the MS Magazine blog, Aishah Shahidah Simmons is asking for all of our help on their behalf. Check out Simmons’ article, and learn more about the film and what you can do to support it on it’s IndieGoGo page.

Oh Bondage! Up Yours!

Shira Tarrant is asking for your participation. In her new article at the Huffington Post, she talks about the importance of music to the activist movement, and lists some examples from the Dixie Chicks, Pete Seeger, or the band X-Ray Spex.

We’re in the middle of a global activist movement right now with Occupy Wall Street, and Shira asks:

What music moves you to fight unjust power and create a vision for a better world? What are you singing and what do you have to say?

Check out her article, and help her create “our collective mixtape, the soundtrack to our era”

Misogyny, Activism and Occupy Wall Street

Feministe’s Jill has written a very spot-on article about the Hot Chicks of Occupy Wall Street tumblr.

This sums it up nicely:

If you’re at an event and you strike up conversation with someone cute? Wonderful. But creating a blog and a video dedicated to showing women at a protest with the sole purpose of reminding dudes that women at the protest are hot? That does reduce women to objects of male attention. It’s another reminder, for women, that how seriously we’re taken and how valuable we are depends on how sexually attractive we’re deemed.

Check out the whole article here: Steven Greenstreet proves he’s definitely not a misogynist by making rape jokes.

Badass Activist Friday Presents: Fivel Rothberg

It’s Friday, and we all know what that means! Interviews with your favorite badass feminists and activists. Whether social media queens and kings, creative artists, sex educators, or just kick-ass personalities, these people harness righteous anger, instigate movements and inspire cultural change. We’re here to honor them and their work, but more importantly, to highlight how we can all get up, plug in, and Just Start Doing.

This week, we talked to filmmaker Fivel Rothberg, who is just putting the finishing touches on his documentary House Devil, Street Angel, a very personal story about depression and abuse. If you would like to support him in this, you can check out the movie’s website or the project’s Kickstarter site. But first, let’s hear some more about Fivel’s activism and his current project.

Introduce yourself to our readers! What has your journey to activism been like? Did you find your way here on accident, or was it a purposeful journey? Where do you see your role as an activist and what are you trying to achieve in your work?

I am a Brooklyn-based, Philly born and raised, father of a 13-year-old son, Noam. I’m also a media maker and I teach two courses at a small SUNY college in Long Island.  My route to activism regarding abuse, mental illness and masculinity has been an incredibly challenging one. It is a purposeful journey now, but it was a circuitous path. And it’s one that is constantly evolving as I strive to learn more about gender based violence, and in turn share my story in House Devil, Street Angel to spark dialogues about issues like abuse, depression and fatherhood. My aim with the film is to use it as a consciousness-raising tool, primarily with men.  We need to be able to learn how to talk about these issues with one another, support each other and grow as men.

Years ago, I considered myself a media activist. I helped to establish the Independent Media Center in Philly (Philly IMC) and later worked for organizations like Scribe Video Center & the Media Mobilizing Project (MMP). For a time, I volunteered with the Kensington Welfare Rights Union to produce a cable access-style TV show about poverty in Philly and the nation. I wanted to use my skills, and class and race status, to aid marginalized people in producing their own media. It’s still pretty standard in the documentary and social issue media world for people of great privilege to speak on behalf of the so-called “voiceless.” Even though access to the Internet and cheaper recording devices has revolutionized the media landscape, the paradigm remains the same. Places like Scribe and MMP flip that paradigm, and that’s what I love about them.

You’re currently working on finishing up your movie House Devil, Street Angel, an autobiographical documentary about the abuse cycle and depression. When and how did you come to decide to make such a personal film? What has the experience of making this movie been like?

It’s been insanely challenging. I completed a large portion of this film as my thesis project at Hunter College, where I graduated back in January 2011. But I didn’t want to work on it for a while after graduating because it was so emotionally draining. I recently came back to the film because I know in my heart that it has value.  And I’ve been told that it has value by my peers and advisors. Most importantly, I’m motivated by the sincere emotional responses that I’ve gotten when I’ve shown it to groups of men. Certainly, people of all genders can connect with the film, but I think it’s been particularly meaningful for men to hear someone be so open about their struggles as a father, a man with depression, a survivor of abuse and as a former perpetrator who has come around.

I first started documenting how my son goes back and forth between vastly different households when he was about two or three-years-old.  And I thought that I would eventually make a film about his experiences as a child of a very privileged white Jewish dad and a poor Puerto Rican mom.  Our families lived only miles apart geographically, but they were worlds away socially. My son’s mom also came from an abusive home; on top of that she faces additional challenges to face as a Latina, that was really eye opening too. It inspired me to work on the rights of Puerto Rican political prisoners and learn the history of one of our nation’s oldest non-mainland colonies.

After being a shitty partner, and a totally freaked out young dad, I worked on being a new kind of father to my son. When Noam’s mom and I broke up, he would spend half of the week with me and half of the week with her.  When he was about seven-years-old she moved out of Philly with Noam and her boyfriend.  I later I decided to finally leave Philly and pursue grad school in NYC. During grad school I slowly began to approach making more personal work. Judith Helfand, who made Blue Vinyl and Healthy Baby Girl, said that successful documentaries depend on intimate access to one’s subjects and as a filmmaker with few resources you are your own best subject. I didn’t have to work for years to build trust with my son or family – they’re part of the package.

So with that in mind, I began a project that I had put off for years – a doc about Noam’s experiences. Yet, I found that problematic and realized that this film opened up unresolved issues  – like how abuse, trauma and neglect made me the person and parent that I am. So that began the arduous but beautiful process that is represented in House Devil, Street Angel.

You’ve already connected with some non-profits and started showing your movie. What has it been like for you to share your work? What kind of reactions have you gotten so far, what conversations have you sparked?

Thus far, several dozen people have seen the film in its rough cut stage. And after being inspired by projects like The Line Campaign, I knew that I needed to reach out and get non-profits and leaders on board so that I could finalize it and get it out there. At the moment House Devil, Street Angel has three partners: CONNECT, a gender violence prevention organization, Voice Male Magazine, a pro-feminist men’s issue publication, and NYC Dads Group, a Meetup group for fathers in the region. I hope that groups with similar goals will join them, help spread the word about the project, and eventually use the finished film in classrooms and workshops.  This film can help generate a really powerful conversation that we as men need to have about the intersections of culture, social forces like patriarchy, and personal choice when it comes to abuse.  We have to figure out how to change. And that’s a process, not a one-size-fits-all scenario.

It’s been both fulfilling and exhausting to share this film.  I screened the rough cut, when it was called Internal Exposure, to members of NYC Dads right after I graduated in order to get feedback.  Only the organizers of the screening knew what the film was about. Most of the other dads in the audience had no idea what they were getting into. They just came knowing that a fellow dad wanted to show a work-in-progress.  I introduced the film and sat back, and listened carefully for any sign of reaction as it played.  They were utterly quiet, except for some laughs as Noam, at three-years-old, says, “I hate your camera” as he refuses to eat breakfast. Afterwards they were both eager to ask me questions about the film, and several men in the audience shared very touching stories about their experience as survivors, some with depression, and how they have had to worked to be better parents. I know my prejudice was challenged when one man, who looked like a bit of a jock, came up to me afterwards and really opened up. That was incredible.

People really get into the film and the characters. Which is pretty strange when I am a character in it, and then present for folks to ask me very personal questions. When I shared the film with the staff at CONNECT, they were supportive, but grilled me on it.  That probably happened because the film can be triggering, even to an audience that is trained in these issues, and they wanted to know if I’m on point or not.

I had similar experiences with the Men’s Roundtable at CONNECT.  And it was shown without me to a group called Hombres Dialogando (Men Dialoging), also a project of CONNECT. I was told by the group’s leader, Marlon Walker, that the film helped the men talk about how hard it is as a survivor to confront your abuser, especially when it’s a family member, and the painful feelings that happen when abusers do not admit what they did was abusive. Certainly older generations in our society do not have a conception of abuse as being beyond physical, so that adds to the process of reconciliation.

On another note, I am super excited that fellow filmmaker Sam Feder is going to work on House Devil, Street Angel in an Associate Producer or Co-producer. We’re still working on the details, but we just agreed to that this week. Sam Co-Directed Boy I Am and is now directing a documentary about Kate Bornstein called Make Me a Star.

You say in the trailer that changing our perceptions of masculinity is at the heart of the effort to prevent abuse. Can you elaborate on that?

It’s not so much changing the perception of masculinity, so much as changing and challenging the dominant form of masculinity itself– what some term “hegemonic masculinity.”

For most of my life, I was very unaware of my entitlement as a male. Just as white people are less aware of their “whiteness,” I was not conscious of my masculinity, even as it played a pivotal role in my existence. Further, as an anarchist I had this mind set that I was beyond or above all that. I’d thought about my class and race – but really didn’t consider that I could be sexist, patriarchal or abusive. Partially, that had to do with the fact that I’m an introvert at heart who has struggled since childhood with depression, self-hate and sustaining long-term friendships. In tandem, because my abuser was male I’ve had a very hard time reaching out to other men and trusting men. Those are both things that I think could have helped me be more accountable and change as a man. On top of that there’s the basic fact that as men we are not socialized to speak about these issues nor hold each other accountable. I know I’m still figuring it out. I think in the anarchist or activist community there could have been a better support network for accountability. I found a few people to connect with, who were knowledgeable about abuse, but I was utterly frightened about being castigated by the community and didn’t out myself.  And there really wasn’t a men’s group or something similar to turn to.

That said, in the broader culture of the U.S., we are socialized to do the exact opposite – suck it up, be a “man” and drink a beer if you’re upset. Or maybe share your most intimate feelings with a female friend or partner. Just make sure you don’t try that with another guy. If an average man sought out other men to talk about their fucked up behavior, what do you think they’d say? They would probably excuse it.

That’s where changing masculinity comes in. Feminism is all about freedom for all of humanity, not just women – as readers of this blog well know.  And building a feminist masculinity can be, and will be, liberatory for all genders. My film is a deeply inspired by the feminist tenet “the personal is political,” as it’s an intimate documentary with broader intentions.  I would not have the chuzpah to make House Devil, Street Angel if it were not for personal filmmakers like Marlon Riggs, Doug Block, Jonathan Caouette, Lourdes Portillo and Alan Berliner and feminist / personal / activist filmmakers like Barbara Hammer, Michelle Citron and of course The Line Campaign’s own Nancy Schwartzman. My aunt’s work in the personal and political documentary world contributed to my trajectory as well.

The kickstarter campaign for the movie is just taking off. What can we do to help you?

The best way to help immediately would be to check out the Kickstarter campaign (http://kck.st/nhmFsO), contribute and / or share it with your friends, family and colleagues.  I appreciate any kind of support folks can provide.

For the long run, please get in touch via the project’s website, join the mailing list, and look out for the final film. If you or someone you know runs a men’s group, feminist group or parent’s group for instance, on or off a college campus, please consider hosting a screening.  And thanks!

 

You are welcome!  Thanks for sharing your thoughts with us, and good luck with the project!

The Pixel Project wants you to Paint it Purple!

Want to help stop violence against women worldwide? You can. The Pixel Project is starting the Paint it Purple Campaign, and you can participate by contributing to their quest to paint the Internet purple through social media networks. Check it out:

Paint it Purple Campaign.

Badass Activist Friday Presents: Olivia Klaus

It’s Friday, and we all know what that means! Interviews with your favorite badass feminists and activists. Whether social media queens and kings, creative artists, sex educators, or just kick-ass personalities, these people harness righteous anger, instigate movements and inspire cultural change. We’re here to honor them and their work, but more importantly, to highlight how we can all get up, plug in, and Just Start Doing.

This week, I talked to filmmaker Olivia Klaus. She is the director and producer of Sin by Silence, a documentary about domestic violence, and she was recently named one of the “Top 16 Female Role Models” by Pixel Project. Let’s hear what she has to say!

You are a filmmaker and an activist. Which came first? How does filmmaking impact the way you operate in the world?

I have always had a passion to help be a voice for the voiceless.  So, I guess it was only natural for me to become a filmmaker – actually, I like to think of it as a creative activist.  Documentary filmmaking is one of the most rewarding jobs because I believe that changing the world starts with a story.  Simple or complicated, it doesn’t matter. A good story, well told, can change lives, change laws and can change you.

Tell us about your project and the issues at hand. What are you fighting for? Can you sum up your mission for us?

Sin by Silence is a story of empowerment when all odds are stacked against you. It’s my latest film that tells the story of women who are domestic violence’s worst-case scenarios: women who have killed their abusers. Yet, more importantly, it’s an incredible journey of women who overcame the odds to journey from victim to survivor.

Rarely do I find that people want to talk about domestic violence and incarceration.  Yet, I believe these tragedies go hand in hand.  And through Sin by Silence we are hoping to change hearts and minds to really understand the importance of getting involved through a new perspective – incarcerated battered women.  They open pandora’s box of secrets that is domestic violence.  Throughout my time working with them I have learned more from their stories than any other expert or advocate on this issue.  In my mind these women are the true experts on domestic violence. These women lived through nightmares, but the key is that they survived.

Through Sin by Silence their voices can now be heard and countless people can carry on the cause and help change the injustice that happens behind closed doors and behind prison walls.  While rapists can serve as little as 36 months and manslaughter charges can end in less than five years, the women featured in the film have each served an astonishing 20+ years for acting in self-defense.  The film is a call to action about the issues of domestic violence so that we can all be the change that helps women to become the mothers, daughters, sisters and friends they were always meant to be.

It’s really exciting to see how the power of film can move mountains.  With Sin by Silence, we have been able to build a movement that is not only helping people understand more about the complexities of abuse, but we are also working with Legislators in several states to help improve laws for their battered women in and out of prison.  It’s truly remarkable to be part of the journey that started with a film and has not gone beyond the screen and into countless communities.

What are some unexpected experiences that came with making this movie? Do you feel that making the movie has changed you?

My journey to create Sin by Silence was a completely unexpected.  When I first started down this path, it was to help a friend who had opened up to me about the abuse she was enduring behind closed doors.  As my mind started racing for ways to help or fix things, I realized that I was completely helpless. I had no answers, no solutions.  I started discovering women’s shelters and organizations.  Yet they offered extremely limited resources for victims and those trying to help. Then a conversation with a colleague, Dr. Elizabeth Leonard – author of Convicted Survivors – changed everything. She started talking about her own inspiration for solutions to the crisis at hand. She suggested that my quest include a trip to the most unlikely place – prison!

The first time I visited the California Institution for Women was in 2001. I was nervous that evening, wondering whom I was about to meet. The group Convicted Women Against Abuse (CWAA) was comprised of women who had killed the men they once loved. But when the meeting started, I was slowly introduced to women who could be my neighbors, my friends, my sister…or even myself.

Since that first meeting, I have been unable to turn my back on the women of CWAA. They, along with my friend, opened my eyes to a part of the world that I never knew existed. Once that silence had been broken, I found that I could never pretend that life was the same as it was before.

How do you feel about the way that DV/IPV is portrayed in the media? One recent treatment of the topic that comes to mind is the song “Love the Way You Lie” be Eminem and Rihanna – did you feel that it was more helpful, or more problematic?

Depictions of violence against women seem to have become mainstream storytelling tactics.  With the very public act of violence against Rihanna, many advocates and organizations were hoping she would become an overnight poster girl against abuse.  She in return fled the opposite direction, and understandably so since she is far from healed.

The message of “Love the Way You Lie” certainly created a double edged sword.  Maybe that’s the beauty of it! Rihanna’s haunting vocals and Eminem’s intensity are the backdrop to a video that show an extremely romanticized relationship.  Yet, the characters are mutually abusive.  So, viewers are left with an idea that going through the pain is worth it an intensely, intimate relationship?  Yet, by the end of the madness, the couple is still together – neither have grown, changed or suffered any consequences.  Seems very simliar to the very gray area of abusive relationships and understanding of the extreme dependency that happens with an abusive couple.  Maybe the message was too real and we would have rather seen Rihanna with her fist in the air championing the domestic violence cause.  Well, those are really hard expectations to ask someone to deal with….especially someone who has not healed.

Your movie will be shown on TV on the 17th! How excited are you about this? What can we do to help you get the word out?

Let everyone know to tune in on Monday, Oct. 17th at 8pm ET/PT on Investigation Discovery. Nearly 78 million homes could be watching … it’s simply a dream come true! So, we are hoping that everyone will invite their friends over to watch the broadcast and download our Broadcast Kit and resources at Currix to help make the night a success! Also, make sure to join me during the during the broadcast, as we’ll be having a live Q&A discussion at the Investigation Discovery FB page and on Twitter with #IDFilms.

Thank you Olivia, for your time and your great answers!

 

 

 

To Pitch or to Pee: Say What? Re-learning how to Speak “Documentary”

Language can be a confusing animal. Many, many words have different meanings in different contexts, and the definitions or specific uses are unique to the place you are in or the people you are speaking with. While this shows just how versatile and complex language is, it can also present a sizable barrier to communication.

Why are we talking about this here? Because it can become an issue within community organizing and activism, when we use words and shorthand within a group whose deeper meanings are not readily available to an outsider. This can alienate the very people we are trying to reach.

How these many nuances of language can play a role in documentary film-making is something that Fernanda Rossi explores in her article “Say What? Re-learning How to Speak ‘Documentary’”. Fernanda is a creative force in the documentary field, and was a big support to me while I was finishing “The Line.” Go ahead and give her wonderful article a read!

 

Badass Activist Friday presents: Audacia Ray

It’s Friday, and we all know what that means! Interviews with your favorite badass feminists and activists. Whether social media queens and kings, creative artists, sex educators, or just kick-ass personalities, these people harness righteous anger, instigate movements and inspire cultural change. We’re here to honor them and their work, but more importantly, to highlight how we can all get up, plug in, and Just Start Doing.

This week, the wonderful Audacia Ray agreed to speak with us about her work as an activist, writer and sex worker rights advocate. She was the author of Waking Vixen, a highly acclaimed sex blog that was active between 2004 and spring of this year, and is now running the Red Umbrella Project, which aims to make the authentic voices of sex workers heard. But let’s let her tell us about it herself. Here’s what she had to say to us:

On your blog, you describe yourself as a sex worker rights activist. How would you summarize your work, and how did you come to do it?

I work to amplify the voices of people who have experience in the sex industry, whether they arrive at that experience through choice, coercion, or circumstance. My main focus is cultural activism, creating spaces for sex workers to speak up in public forums and through various media production adventures. I started doing this work in 2004, when I was a sex worker and feeling isolated. I was seeking community and wanted to talk to other people who had similar experiences. I found the nascent $pread, a magazine by and for sex workers that was in the process of being launched, and I signed on. I became an editor and was involved with the magazine for about four years. A lot of my projects over the past few years have grown out of that experience.

In your work, you combine new media and outreach by taking advantage of several different mediums (podcasts and blogs, as well as in-person workshops). Why do you think it is important to reach people via these different venues? Do you think that this approach is tailored to your project, or are there ways in which activism in general could benefit from using different platforms?

I think the main thing that I’ve learned about the different mediums is that they are, well, different. When I started it was with the attitude of – I just need to get my stuff out there and then people will know about it! For an activist web project I did last year, I did an exercise of thinking up all the types of people who might come to the site, how they’d get there, and what they’d be looking for, and what we’d want them to take away. It’s a good exercise and definitely made it really clear that there is no “general public” – you have to get more precise than that.

The people who read blogs aren’t necessarily the folks who look for podcasts on iTunes or browse the video shows on Blip TV or hang out with their friends on Facebook. This is a good thing, but sometimes it means you need to make a choice and pick one or two ways to reach out instead of being everywhere all the time. Unless all you do is spend time on the internet – which is definitely where I was at a few years ago, but now I do a lot of work offline, as well, so I have to be more selective about my engagement. 

Your main project is the Red Umbrella Project. Can you tell us more about this project? What are you doing, where did the idea for this originate, and what do you hope to achieve?

The Red Umbrella Project reframes the public dialogue on the impact of stigma and discrimination on people who trade sex for the things they need, through the lens of lived experience. We provide training and support to people who wish to engage with media and in public forums to tell their stories about issues that affect them. The main programs are a media training intensive called Speak Up!, which is designed for sex workers to learn the trickery of the mainstream media, plus how to do messaging and interact with hostile/clueless journalists (sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference between those). I also host a live monthly storytelling series, the Red Umbrella Diaries, which takes place on the first Thursday of the month at Happy Ending in NYCs Lower East Side, but we will be expanding to new cities in the coming year. We’ve also been doing a legislative training for the last few years for sex workers to learn to do advocacy in New York State, and have a few other programs that we’ll hopefully be rolling out in 2012.

You closed your blog WakingVixen earlier this year, after having been online with it since 2004. Can you explain your motivation for closing the blog? You’ve been a pioneer and in the vanguard of online community, advocacy and storytelling. How do you see the field changing? What excites you? What do you miss?What has it been like to move towards an increase in live events, and what motivated this decision?

My relationship to the internet -and of course, the internet itself- has evolved considerably since I started writing about my life on Blogger in 2004. I found that I kept intending to write long personal and/or analytical posts on my blog, but kept not getting around to it, and was instead hanging out on Twitter, reading group blogs, watching videos, and listening to podcasts. With media, you really have to adapt or die, and I felt like I was letting my blog crumble and die. So I killed it, and I adapted. Now I post short stuff on my Tumbler, I obsessively track my reading on Goodreads, I tweet, I host a podcast (search for Red Umbrella Diaries on iTunes) and occasionally produce and post videos. Lately I’ve been doing a lot more listening and learning online instead of always pushing out new stuff. It’s definitely as important to listen as it is to talk.

What’s been on your mind lately? Have you been reading a new blog? Discovered an awesome book? Or is there a news story that really inspired you? Please share with us!

I’ve been thinking a lot about the long-term effects of being committed to doing activism in a deep way, and the ways it’s worn me down over the years. I am coming to appreciate self care and down time more than I allowed myself to several years ago. And I’ve also come to realize that activist work is about taking steps forward and steps back, and that’s the fight. Over a short period of time, it seems like nothing changes, but over the years, there is a shift. When I first started doing activism, I felt like we were just on the cusp of radical change. I don’t feel that way anymore, and I feel a little sad that I’ve lost that. But at the same time, I think I’ve gotten a bigger appreciation for the work that goes into making change, shifting culture. And I’m in it, I’m signed up. It’s just interesting to have my vantage point shift in that way.

 

Thank you so much for those wonderful, thoughtful answers, Audacia!

 

 

Badass Activist Friday presents: Akiba Solomon

It’s Friday, and we all know what that means! Interviews with your favorite badass feminists and activists. Whether social media queens and kings, creative artists, sex educators, or just kick-ass personalities, these people harness righteous anger, instigate movements and inspire cultural change. We’re here to honor them and their work, but more importantly, to highlight how we can all get up, plug in, and Just Start Doing.

This week, we spoke with Akiba Solomon. Akiba is an author, editor and freelance journalist. Aside from her regular column at Colorlines.com, she has also written for a variety of publications, such as Glamour and Redbook.

Can you tell us a little bit about how you view your position at Colorlines? Who would you like to reach and what would you like them to take away from your posts? Have you experienced any support or resistance for the subjects you tackle in a way that surprised you?

I’m the gender columnist at Colorlines.com, which means I cover news, culture, health and politics relevant to the intersection between race and gender. It’s a very broad beat, and I tend to feel overwhelmed if I consciously target any reader. So I concentrate on writing with sensitivity, clarity and accuracy and hope people understand my points and intention. I want people who read my work to come away with enough information to formulate their own opinion. If they agree and feel validated, that’s a bonus for me. But if they disagree that’s fine, too.

You presented a side of the Texas gang rape case that was otherwise not talked about very widely. Why do you think the mainstream media mishandled the reporting so badly?

I don’t think all mainstream media did a poor job. The Houston Chronicle’s Cindy Horswell did a hell of a job reporting and writing about this case.

I think overall the problem with the coverage, however, was a lack of depth. If national media outlets didn’t want to devote real resources to this story, they should have left it alone. (I’m thinking of The New York Times here.)

You can’t just drop a straight news reporter into a town as small and interconnected as Cleveland, have him quote a few people who are trying to protect their friends and family members from life sentences and expect to get a story that doesn’t blame the victim. And if an overwhelming number of townspeople truly do blame an 11-year-old child for a gang rape, THAT’S your story.

Your focus can’t be, “How is the town reacting?” It should be, “How was gang rape [aka "running a train'] normalized to the extent that so many boys and men participated in it and recorded themselves doing it?” Or, “Even if the participants believed that what they were doing was consensual and legal, why would it ever be OK for middle school boys and young adult males in their mid-20s to participate in the same sexual activity?” Or, “Why do people keep asking where her mother was – or where the boys’ mothers were? What does that say about how we view male culpability?” Or, “What role did race play in dehumanizing this victim and her attackers?”

I guess what I’m saying is that this wasn’t a straight reporting job but it was treated as such. Unless you devote resources, time and care to a story like this, and you truly search for the story behind the story, it’s too tempting for most reporters to coast on the most basic narrative. In the case of rape, the narrative pivots on the behavior, attire, sexual history, appearance, immediate reaction, recall, race, class and alleged motives of the female victim. In this economy, and with the erosion of even basic journalistic practices, this is going to get worse.

You’ve written quite extensively on the DSK case and advocated for Nafissatou Diallo. Can you summarize the lessons we can learn from this case about the kind of culture that we live in? What makes it especially difficult for survivors, especially women of color, low-income and/or foreign born women to talk about their experiences?

Hmm. This is really difficult to summarize. I would say that if an accuser is female, poor and of color, we live in a culture that will scrutinize her more than the rich white male who has allegedly raped her. This case says that rich, powerful white males are at greater risk of false accusations than poor, powerless women of color are of being raped. If something goes wrong, it’s the woman’s fault, because she’s greedy, a liar, a prostitute or a pawn in a political entrapment plot.

I would say that many, many people think rape is about sexual temptation and desire rather than power and violence. That’s how you get seasoned writers commenting on the appearance of the accuser, and readers posting about how “ugly” she is.

I think low-income women of color, particularly immigrants, are so vulnerable because they often lack of job security, they fear deportation and they know that law enforcement criminalizes them. If you know you’re going to be scrutinized and you already feel confused, ashamed, terrified and humiliated by the rape, why would you bother?

It’s almost safer to stay quiet.

You have voiced some ambivalence about the recent SlutWalk movement. Can you explain your feelings on the movement? Do you have any thoughts on how something like the SlutWalk could be more inclusive and truly intersectional?

I’m happy that so many people have found a way to address sexual assault victim-blaming and assert their personal power. Anything that empowers folks – particularly people who have been victimized in this way – is positive. I don’t condemn the early marches for not being “more inclusive” or “intersectional”. They were organized through social networks. If the organizers don’t have broad, diverse social networks, their march is going to reflect that. That said, this isn’t a movement I would participate in. It doesn’t speak to me. I know from the “n-word” debate that trying to appropriate dehumanizing, dangerous language doesn’t make it less powerful or insulting; just more common.

Do you have any projects you are currently working on that you would like to talk about here? Or is there anything going on in the media/pop culture/the blogosphere that’s on your mind a lot recently?

I have a book I co-edited about Black women and body image called “Naked: Black Women Bare All About Their Skin, Hair, Lips and Other Parts”. It was published right before the huge social networking explosion and has since lapsed from printing. My co-editor and I are working on ways to get this book and message back out there because it’s very relevant. As for the blogosphere: my constant struggle is with information overload. What’s been on my mind is how to sift through the political gamesmanship and the crazy that the presidential election is going to spark. It’s already a big racist mess and it’s going to get worse.

 

Thank you for your time and your candid answers, Akiba!


 



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