Tag: Megan Kearns

Horror Week 2012: ‘The Walking Dead’ and Gender: Why I’m Skeptical the Addition of Badass Michonne Will Change the TV Series’ Sexism

Michonne (Danai Gurira) in The Walking Dead

Warning: if you haven’t seen Seasons 1 and 2 of The Walking Dead, there are spoilers ahead.

Have you ever dated someone because of their potential rather than what she/he/ze brings to the table? Or is that just me?? Well, that’s how I feel about AMC’s The Walking Dead.

While I like the show, I keep watching the zombie apocalypse, based on the comic books, because I keep hoping and expecting it to become great – especially when it comes to the female characters and the show’s sexist portrayal of gender roles.

The conservative characters continually depict retro gender norms. The men talk about protecting the women. The women cook and clean while the men go off and hunt or protect the camp or farm. Yes, Andrea is the exception to the rule. She shoots and kills zombies and patrols the perimeter. But the women take a backseat to the men. They let the men debate, argue, decide.

I criticized Game of Thrones, a show I adore, for its misogyny. But at least it contains strong, intelligent and powerful female characters. Where the hell are they on The Walking Dead???

Which is why I’m so excited about the introduction of Michonne.

In Season 2’s record-breaking finale, Andrea (Laurie Holden) is rescued by a katana-wielding, hooded woman holding two chained, jawless, armless zombies. It was probably the best introduction I’ve ever witnessed. Ever. And that mystery woman would be Michonne. Not only am I delighted to see another female character. But the show so desperately needs another bad-ass woman.

For those who haven’t read the comics (like me), Michonne, who will be played by Danai Gurira (who’s simply amazing in The Visitor and Treme) seems to be a strong, powerful, complex character. She’s clever since she uses two incapacitated walkers in order to seek out the living hide from other walkers. She appears to be a fierce and fearless survivor. But what’s even more exciting is that she’s a woman of color.

Yet I’m skeptical as the show hasn’t done a great job portraying gender so far.

Lori (Sarah Wayne Callies) does whatever Rick (Andrew Lincoln), her husband and leader of the group, says, blindly and unquestioningly standing by him. Carol (Melissa McBride), who’s keeping it together pretty well considering she’s lost her daughter and her husband, still clings to men, first her abusive husband Ed and now Daryl (Norman Reedus), who tell her what to do. The writers squandered the opportunity to explore a domestic violence survivor rather than making her a caricature. When we first meet Maggie (Lauren Cohan), she’s riding in on a horse, bashing a Walker (aka zombie) with a baseball bat. She started off so fierce, spunky and sexually assertive. It’s just unfortunate she’s unraveling, a hysterical mess who seems to cling to her BF Glenn (Steven Yeun) for protection.

The two bright spots are Andrea and Jacqui. Andrea is one of my favorite characters. A tough survivor, she’s one of the best shots and guards the camp. She did try to commit suicide, despondent after her sister died. But she’s become determined to live. She’s smart, questions the status quo, and has become more assertive, unafraid to voice her opinion. Jacqui was outspoken and seemed to possess a quiet inner strength. While I wish she’d fought harder to survive, she chooses to end her life, dying peacefully at the end of Season 1. Even though Andrea and Jacqui are the only ones, I’m glad SOMEBODY questions the ridiculous gender nonsense.

In the very first episode in Season 1, there’s a flashback depicting Rick and Shane joking about gender differences. When Rick confides that he’s having marital problems, he tells Shane that Lori accused him of “not caring about his family in front of” their son Carl. And then Rick (who I actually like a lot) says:

“The difference between men and women? I would never say something that cruel to her.”

Wow, so we’re treated to gender essentialism and a lovely tidbit that women are cruel, heartless shrews all in the first episode. This is definitely an omen of things to come.

Andrea (Laurie Holden), Amy (Emma Bell), Carol (Melissa McBride) doing laundry on The Walking Dead

In “Tell It To the Frogs,” Andrea, Amy, Carol, Jacqui wash laundry in a lake. As the women work, they see the men splashing around enjoying themselves. Jacqui, one of the only women with any common sense and a spark of strength, asks:

“I’m really beginning to question the division of labor around here. Can someone explain to me how the women ended up doing all the Hattie McDaniel work?”

YES!! Love this! How about maybe they rotate chores? Or what if (radical idea here) some of the men wanted to cook or clean? Why should the women do all the domestic tasks??

The women proceed to bond over missing their washing machines and vibrators. But then the frivolity is cut short by Carol’s abusive husband Ed who threatens the women and then slaps Carol. While the women try to defend her, Shane steps in and starts beating the shit out of him, getting out all his aggression and frustration about Lori spurning him. So even though Shane warns Ed that he better not ever lay a hand on Carol or Sophia, he’s not acting out of nobility or the belief that men shouldn’t abuse women. Not surprising as this is the same douchebag who later tries to rape Lori and then brushes it off when she confronts him about it.

Talking about women in post-apocalyptic genres, Balancing Jane asserts that while strong women exist, it’s the men who rescue them and allow them their strength:

“[The Walking Dead goes out of its] way to demonstrate that those women had to first be saved by a righteous man. In order for women to become competent and determined, a man had to first stand up and make a space for them. Until a man appeared as savior, the women were doomed to be physically overpowered and sexually exploited.”

Men continually deny women power and autonomy. Dale takes Andrea’s gun away from her (“What Lies Ahead”) like she’s a child, backed up by rapist Shane. So a grown-ass woman shouldn’t have a gun but Carl, an ELEVEN-year-old can carry one! Oh but the little woman can’t be trusted. Ugh. Dale also comments on Andrea and Maggie’s sex lives. Speaking of Carl and guns…Lori voices her opposition for her son shooting yet no one listens to her concerns. When Lori discovers she’s pregnant, Glenn scolds her for not taking her vitamins as if she doesn’t know how to care for herself. Gee thanks, Glenn, it’s not like she’s never been pregnant before.

And then of course there’s the infamous abortion/emergency contraception storyline in “Secrets.” After Lori discovers she’s pregnant, she asks Glenn to obtain medication from the pharmacy for her to terminate her pregnancy (which she admits she’s not sure if it will work). But EC is contraception, doesn’t terminate an existing pregnancy and must be taken within 72 hours of unprotected sex or failed contraception. RU-486, which does terminate an existing pregnancy, has to be procured from a doctor, not a pharmacy.

Jezebel, Slate, ACLU and many others wrote about this episode and the myths it perpetuates. Of course showrunner Glenn Mazzara brushed off the criticism saying the writers took “artistic creative license” and he “hopes people aren’t turning to the fictional world of The Walking Dead for medical advice.” Well of course people shouldn’t be. But the media influences people’s perceptions, including medicine and abortion. There’s so much misinformation swirling around abortion and contraception. And it’s this misinformation that anti-choicers use to their advantage.

If ever there was a time for a show to depict a pregnant character having an abortion…yeah, I think a zombie apocalypse would be it. But it’s strange that this abortion/contraception arc occurs in the same episode where people are debating the zombies in the barn and what constitutes life.

Lori (Sarah Wayne Callies) and Rick (Andrew Lincoln) on The Walking Dead

But it’s the reaction of those around Lori that most disturbs me. Rick screams at Lori for even thinking about terminating the pregnancy. After Maggie and Glenn return from the pharmacy (granted, they’ve just been attacked by zombies), Maggie chucks the pills at Lori saying, “Here’s your abortion pills!” So not only does Lori not turn to another woman for help (turning to Glenn instead), but Maggie yells at her for her reproductive choice. As Bitch Magazine blogger Katherine Don writes:

“When reproductive choices are navigated by a stereotyped character and manhandled by scriptwriters who don’t recognize a woman’s ability to weight options and make decisions, the woman is robbed of her individuality, humanity and dignity.”

Beyond their “individuality, humanity and dignity,” the women are also robbed of their voice. In “Judge, Jury, Executioner,” the group congregate in the farmhouse to discuss the fate of captured Randall. While Dale vehemently opposes the decision to execute him, he’s the only one who speaks up. Eventually, Andrea, who was a civil rights lawyer pre-walkers, voices her opinion that Dale’s right. Lori, who opposes the death penalty, says nothing, almost always blindly agreeing with Rick. But the worst comes when Carol says she wants no part of the decision and wants them to decide it for her. Excuse me?? You want to forget all about making the hard decisions and just sit back, letting others decide for you??

I’m so fucking tired of the writers silencing the women.

The show’s treatment of race and heteronormativity isn’t a whole lot better. Why does the one black man (what happened to Morgan and his son from Season 1??) have to be silent for most episodes and have a ridiculous name like T-Dog? Where are the LGBTQ characters? What does it say about a show where the most interesting and complex character is a racist?? Yep, sad to say but Daryl’s my favorite. Why do we have to keep hearing racist Asian jokes? Why did Jacqui, the one black woman on the show, have to kill herself??

We see female empowerment continually stripped away. Lori seems to be the worst perpetrator of gender stereotypes and reinforcing hyper-masculinity. Glenn tells Maggie that he was distracted shooting at the bar because all he could think about was her. When Maggie confesses this in “18 Miles Out,” Lori in her infinite wisdom tells her that she should let “the men do their man-work” and that it’s women’s jobs to support the men. Oh yeah, she also says, “Tell him to man up.” Gee thanks, Lori. Swell advice. So men aren’t allowed to be emotional or sentimental. Only women.

(L-R): Glenn, Andrea, Shane, T-Dog, Daryl on The Walking Dead

Later, Lori, on another anti-feminist tirade (!!!), scolds Andrea for burdening the other women by not cooking and cleaning. Lori says Andrea should leave the other work for the men, like a good little woman, don’t ya know. What. The. Fuck. When Andrea says that she contributes to the group by offering protection and keeping watch (which she does), Lori blurts out,

“You sit up on that RV working on your tan with a shotgun in your lap.”

I’m sorry, did the zombipocalypse also signal a rip in the fabric of time where The Walking Dead characters now live in fucking 1955?! So Lori, women shouldn’t be “playing” with guns or hunting for food or protecting the camp. Nope. Women are only good for domestic duties like cooking, cleaning and child-rearing. Leave the tough stuff to the men. Silly me for forgetting. Thank god Andrea told Lori and her bullshit off. Maybe Lori’s just jealous of Andrea’s skills since Lori can’t drive a car without flipping it into a ditch.

While blaming it on Lori’s “irrational behavior” due to her pregnancy and “going through a lot of stuff” (um, aren’t they all?), writer and The Walking Dead creator Robert Kirkman ultimately defends this exchange and the show’s depiction of traditional gender roles:

“Lori is really just aggravated over a lot of things and she’s lashing out. She was serious and she wants Andrea to pull her weight; certain people are stuck with certain tasks and to a certain extent people are retreating back into traditional gender roles because of how this survival-crazy world seems to work.”

So I’m really supposed to believe that when the zombie shit hits the fan, we’re all going to take a time warp? And why the fuck is it a woman, the wife of the leader of the group, who keeps spouting sexist bullshit?!

The horror genre often makes commentaries on humanity vs. brutality. Yet Kirkman clearly doesn’t care about making a social commentary on gender. And to a point that’s fine – not everything must possess some deep message. But there’s no reason the opposite couldn’t be true – an apocalypse spurring egalitarian rather than “traditional” gender roles.

All of the survivors have endured unspeakable horrors, witnessing the slaughter of their loved ones. People react differently to tragedy, some will come unhinged while others grow stronger. And wielding a gun isn’t necessarily synonymous with strength. But why must we constantly see a rearticulation of sexist gender stereotypes? Do people actually think this sexism is justified because they erroneously think we live in a post-feminist society?? When it comes to genres like horror, fantasy and scif-fi, writers can imagine any world they wish. Why imagine a sexist one? Why is everyone on the show struggling to maintain white male patriarchy??

We haven’t witnessed a fierce woman in any leadership role yet. With the arrival Michonne, I’m finally truly excited about The Walking Dead. I’m hopeful that the writers can still turn things around. With Michonne and Lauren Cohan who plays Maggie promoted to series regular, some speculate “Season 3 is shaping up to be a big one for the ladies.” But I’m still skeptical. Michonne has a lot to do to erase the stench of sexist bullshit contaminating the show.

Women and Gender in Musicals Week: My Top 6 Favorite Female Empowerment Songs in Musicals

After reading Lady T’s fabulous post on “I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar…ish,” aka songs that appear to empower women but really just signal faux feminism, I started thinking about actual feminist songs of female empowerment. Let me tell ya, there’s not a whole hell of a lot out there.

As much as I adore musicals, most songs are about men, either men singing them or women singing about men — men they desire or men who have done them wrong. Where are the songs belted out by the ladies for the ladies?? After perusing my DVD collection, Broadway ticket stubs and good ole’ google, I’ve compiled a list. In no particular order, here are my favorite powerful women anthems in musical film.


1. “Defying Gravity” — Wicked 

Something has changed within me
Something is not the same 
I’m through with playing by the rules 
Of someone else’s game 
Too late for second-guessing
Too late to go back to sleep 
It’s time to trust my instincts 
Close my eyes: and leap! 

[…]

And nobody in all of Oz
No wizard that there is or was
Is ever gonna bring me down.

Okay, so right off the bat, I’m breaking my own rules. Wicked isn’t a movie…yet. But it has been performed at the Tonys, on Glee and the theatre version was written by Winne Holzman, a TV screenwriter. So there you go.
Based on the best-selling Gregory Maguire novel which tells the story of The Wizard of Oz from the perspective of the Wicked Witch of the West, it’s a stellar Broadway musical (read the novel and watch the play if you can; both different, both amazing). Wicked revolves around Elphaba, who becomes the Wicked Witch of the West — intelligent, studious, defiant, strong and outspoken, in short, one of my favorite female protagonists — and Glinda, the Good Witch of the North. It explores prejudice and the notion of good and evil (and who determines those labels). But at its core, the play is about embracing your unique individuality and the power of female friendship. 
In “Defying Gravity,” Elphaba (sung by the stunningly talented Idina Menzel in the role she originated) sings about trusting her instincts, her desire to be free and realizing she possesses all the power she needs inside herself. She refuses to compromise her beliefs and won’t let society define her identity.
I love this story so much, as do countless others. So why haven’t we seen it on-screen?? Why are we getting stuck with the male-centric Oz: The Great and Powerful before Wicked?? It’s a travesty. But it is in pre-production. So hopefully, we’ll see a film version on-screen soon. Until then, I’ll keep pressing the replay button on this video…


2. “I’m Here” — The Color Purple


I believe I have inside of me
Everything that I need to live a bountiful life
With all the love alive in me
I’ll stand as tall as the tallest tree 

[…]

But most of  all 
I’m thankful for 
Loving who I really am.
I’m beautiful. 
Yes, I’m beautiful,
And I’m here.

So, I tried to stick to musical film. But this song is just too damn good not to include on this list. I love the film version of The Color Purple. But I was blown away when I saw it on stage and heard the powerful lyrics. It’s a female-centric musical about Celie, an African American woman in the early 1900s South who faces sexism, abuse, racism and poverty. But through it all, she finds female friendship and a strength she never knew she had. 
There aren’t enough musicals featuring women of color. And there aren’t nearly enough female empowerment songs. That’s what makes the song “I’m Here” so fantastic. Not only is it a beautiful, powerfully stirring song. But it’s sung by a black woman finally realizing her own inner power and self-worth. Celie is a strong survivor proudly declaring herself to the world.
At the end of this video, you can see Fantasia Barrino (who played Celie on Broadway) tearing up, emotionally spent from her wrenching performance, giving it everything she’s got and leaving it all on the floor. More of us need to emulate Celie and say, “Hey world, I’m here. Deal with it.”

3. “Don’t Rain On My Parade” — Funny Girl 

Don’t tell me not to live, just sit and putter 
Life’s candy and the sun’s a ball of butter 
Don’t bring around a cloud to rain on my parade 
Don’t tell me not to fly, I’ve simply got to 
If someone takes a spill, it’s me and not you 
Who told you you’re allowed to rain on my parade 

I’ll march my band out, I’ll beat my drum…

“Hello, gorgeous.” Confession time! I’m kind of obsessed with Babs. Love, love, love her! So yes, she’s here on this list, not once but twice. Uh oh, spoiler alert!

In Funny Girl, Barbra Streisand’s first film, she plays comedian and stage and screen actor Fanny Brice, a role Streisand originated on Broadway. Fast-talking Fanny is convinced she’s going to be a huge star. In her signature song “Don’t Rain On My Parade,” she belts out how she’s not going to let anyone bring down her happiness. Now technically, Fanny is singing about a man. She quits the Ziegfeld Follies to follow her love Nick Arnstein. Yet I still always saw this song as one of female empowerment. Fanny’s going to live her life how she sees fit and she’ll be damned if she’s going to let anyone tell her what to do.

In the end of the play, the tone of which drastically differs from the film, she sings a reprise of “Don’t Rain On My Parade” about picking up the pieces of her life and not only surviving but thriving, holding her head high.

4. “La Vie Boheme” — Rent 

To being an ‘us’ for once 
Instead of a ‘them’ 
La vie boheme 
La vie boheme

Okay, so this isn’t quite a female empowerment song. It’s sung by dudes too. So call it a gender empowerment song instead. Funny, bittersweet and tragic, Rent embraces diversity and the merit of creating your own family and community. A defense of “bohemian” living in the Lower East Side in the 80s, the song sung by the cast of Rent — characters who are straight, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, Latina, and African American — references female artists like Maya Angelou, Gertrude Stein and Susan Sontag. “La Vie Boheme,” and the entire play, openly talk about choice, poverty, HIV/AIDS, homosexuality and bisexuality. And of course I love any song that mentions vegetarian food. No joke.

5. “Sister Suffragette” — Mary Poppins 



We’re clearly soldiers in petticoats, 
Dauntless crusaders for women’s votes! 
Though we adore men individually, 
We agree that as a group they’re rather stupid. 
Cast off the shackles of yesterday! 
Shoulder to shoulder into the fray! 
Our daughters’ daughters will adore us 
And they’ll sing in grateful chorus, 
“Well done, Sister Suffragette!” 
I’ve already written about my unabashed love for Mary Poppins and its accidental feminism. I absolutely adore watching and listening to Glynis Johns as Mrs. Winifred Banks, a mother fighting for women’s right to vote, belting out “Sister Suffragette.” How many other musicals contain overtly feminist songs advocating gender equality and sisterly solidarity? In this age of attacks on women’s rights and reproductive justice, I’m clearly a sucker for a song calling, “Womankind arise!”

6. “A Piece of Sky” — Yentl 

What’s wrong with wanting more?
If you can fly – then soar! 
With all there is 
Why settle for just 
A piece of sky 

One of my absolute favorite films, Yentl is an unusual musical in that all the singing is done by one person, the incomparable powerhouse Babs. (I told you there was another Babs song on the list!) It’s also one of the most feminist films I’ve ever watched.
Barbra Streisand directed, produced, wrote the screenplay and stars as an intelligent and inquisitive woman living in early 19th century Poland disguising herself as a man in order to study Talmudic Law, which women were forbidden from doing at the time. The film showcases female friendship and a female protagonist whose life — even though she idolizes her father and falls in love with a man — surprisingly doesn’t revolve around a man. It questions traditional gender roles, sexuality, patriarchy and ultimately advocates for gender equity.
The song “A Piece of Sky” sums up Yentl’s views, that she wants — no demands — more out of life. That she’s not going to settle for anything less than what she yearns for and she’s going to boldly follow her dreams. Despite the obstacles and constraints of societal conventions, Yentl remains rebellious, assertive and defiant throughout, choosing her own path.
If that’s not female empowerment, I don’t know what is.

Women and Gender in Musicals Week: Despite an Intelligent Heroine, Sexism Taints Disney’s ‘Beauty and the Beast’

This review by Megan Kearns previously appeared at Bitch Flicks as part of our series on Animated Children’s Films.

An intelligent, strong-willed, female protagonist. Who reads books. And seeks adventure. With a heroine like Belle, Disney’s Beauty and the Beast, must be a feminist-minded film. Right?? At first, I thought so too. But appearances can be deceiving…

Hailed by critics as a touching romance and one of the greatest animated films ever made, Beauty and the Beast became the first animated movie to be nominated for a Best Picture Oscar. When I watched it in the theatre years ago, I too fell under its spell, seduced by its lush animation, whimsical tunes and of course Belle.

It felt refreshing to see an intelligent, outspoken, animated heroine who loved to read. Outspoken and loved books? I was outspoken and loved books! I saw myself in Belle. She was a misunderstood misfit, wanting “more than this provincial life” to which she had been born. I too felt like an outcast, yearning for adventure and freedom. We were kindred spirits.

But it wasn’t until years later that I saw the crack in the veneer. As I got older and embraced myself as a feminist, I began to question things more diligently. Once you start to see sexism, you can’t NOT see it. Sadly, it’s everywhere, including children’s films. Actually it’s possibly most prevalent in children’s films, which often reinforce tired and oppressive gender roles and stereotypes. 

Yes, Belle is intelligent, courageous, curious, opinionated…all the things I admire in female protagonists. Disney was painfully aware of the criticism against The Little Mermaid’s Ariel giving up her family, her life, hell even her voice all for a stupid prince. Linda Woolverton, Beauty and the Beast’s screenwriter, drew inspiration for Belle from tomboyish, book-loving, outspoken Jo in Little Women. Belle’s feisty independence heralded a new kind of Disney heroine, paving the way for Jasmine, Pocahontas and Mulan. And yes, we often see the world from her vantage point, another plus. Although the film begins and ends with the Beast, who also happens to go through the biggest transformation (literally and figuratively) in the film. Despite her awesomeness, there’s still a huge problem with Belle.

Even though Belle possesses admirable traits, her merit still comes down to her looks. The Beast, Gaston, the villagers and the enchanted servants all exclaim she’s beautiful, gorgeous, pretty and “her looks have no parallel.” Girls and women should be valued for their intellect, skills and kindness. But no one in the movie is raving about Belle’s inner beauty. Not only is Belle stunning, which of course all Disney “princesses” must be, and white and thin (god we need some diversity in films). It’s her name. Her fucking name is “BELLE,” which in French means “beautiful!” Despite her intelligence and bibliophile ways, even her fucking name revolves around her looks. Once again, women are subjugated and reduced to their appearances. Disney says sure, it’s okay to be smart, bookish, even a weird outcast…as long as you’re pretty. Ugh. 

In fact, the whole goddamn movie revolves around beauty. Symbols of beauty (mirrors and roses), permeate the film. Ironic since the intended moral of the fairy tale is looking past appearances to seek true inner beauty. But here’s the kicker. Beauty and the Beast would never have been made with a woman as a beast. Again reinforcing that yep, beauty is only skin deep…if you’re a dude. If you’re a woman, you’d best be gorgeous.

The only other female characters in the movie are Mrs. Potts (I heart Angela Lansbury!), the wardrobe (who has no personality) and the French maid feather duster. A grandmotherly type and a sexpot. Of course Disney does their notorious matricide in the form of the protagonist’s mother either dead or non-existent. They demonize stepmothers and solely focus on both daughters’ and sons’ relationships with their fathers. Seriously, Disney, what the hell have you got against mothers?? And yep, I’m aware Mrs. Potts is Chips’s mother. Doesn’t count. Not only is she not Belle’s mother, she’s a fucking teapot for most of the film. Belle has no female friends, no mother, no sister, no female role model. The importance of female camaraderie and sisterly bonding remain absent from the film.

Unlike many female characters in animated films (or annoying rom-coms for that matter), Belle isn’t looking to be rescued or waiting around for her prince. Two reasons that make Belle a feminist in Woolverton’s eyes. Belle rejects the sexist chauvinist Gaston and his numerous marriage proposals, finding him “boorish” and “brainless.” She wants more out of life than shining that jerk’s boots and popping out his babies. But Belle rebuffs one dysfunctional suitor for another.

A cursed spoiled prince, the Beast imprisons Belle’s father, Maurice, for trespassing. When Belle comes to his rescue, she sacrifices her cherished freedom, for his release. As a “guest” prisoner in the castle, the Beast demands Belle attend dinner with him and forbids her from the West Wing. He screams and throws things at her, his selfish temper raging out of control. Oh, I forgot…the Beast is a romanticized tortured soul. So it’s okay if he’s an abrasive douchebag!

Sure, the sympathetic Beast eventually becomes nicer, giving Belle access to his library and letting birds treat him like a bird feeder. And I do like that Belle and the Beast become friends first before falling in love, which rarely happens in fairy tales. Except for one teeny tiny thing. He’s her captor. Falling in love with the guy who imprisons you, holds you hostage, tells you when to eat, where to go and doesn’t let you see your family?! That’s not love. That’s Stockholm Syndrome, sweetie. 

 
Poisonous messages about love and relationships plague Beauty and the Beast. Don’t worry, ladies…if you suffer and stick by him long enough, your man will change. Just be patient with a guy who’s controlling or abusive. In her lifetime, 1 in 4 women will suffer domestic violence. More and more teenage girls contend with dating violence. Love should not hurt. Ever. But this movie (and sooooo many others) insidiously tells girls that when they grow up, they should stand by their man. Even if he treats you like shit.

I’ll admit Belle as a female character is a step in the right direction. She’s smart, stubborn, kind and ambitious. But Belle gives up her entire life to live forever in a castle with an asshat prince. What about her goals? Her dreams?? Oh that’s right. She becomes a princess! Yet another princess in the pantheon of princesses clogging up girlie-girl media.

Films and books reinforce gender roles and with a lack of female characters, imply that girls and women don’t count. Out of Disney’s 51 theatrically-released animated movies, only 13 feature a female character as a protagonist (16 if you count co-protagonists), most of them princesses. Princesses only care about their clothes and hair. Their looks matter more than their personalities. It seems society would rather teach girls to obsess over their appearance and how to snag a man.

Couldn’t Belle have opened up a bookshop/café or started a book drive or something?? When Belle sang about wanting “more than this provincial life,” I simply refuse to believe twirling around a ballroom in a pretty gown is what she had in mind.

People might think I’m being silly or overreacting about a Disney movie. Fair enough. But I call bullshit. Listen, when we’re young, books, music, movies, TV shows, advertisements and even toys teach us gender roles and identity. Little boys pretend they’re kings or aspire to be president while little girls yearn not to lead like queens, but to be passive princesses. One film probably won’t have much impact. But when the same sexist messages repeat over and over and over and over…well, then it seeps in.

I’m not going to lie. I still watch Beauty and the Beast, singing along to the songs. When I discovered Disney World was building a Beauty and the Beast themed restaurant and attraction, I admit I felt giddy with excitement. But look beyond the gorgeous animation, catchy show tunes and unique heroine.

Sadly, you’ll see yet another fabulous film tainted by sexism, spreading toxic messages that reinforce damaging beauty norms, violence against women and suffocating gender stereotypes.

Not all that glitters is gold. Unwrapping the beautiful package can sometimes yield an ugly core. 

———-
Megan Kearns is a Bitch Flicks Staff Writer and Editor. She’s a feminist vegan blogger and freelance writer living in Boston. Megan blogs at The Opinioness of the World, a feminist vegan site she founded in 2010 which focuses on gender equality and living cruelty-free. She writes about gender and media as a Regular Blogger at Fem2pt0, a site uniting social issues with women’s voices. She’s also a podcast contributor to Feminist Magazine on KPFK radio, a weekly radio show, where she writes and performs her monthly Feminist Films segment. Megan’s work has also appeared at Arts & Opinion, Feministing’s Community Blog, Italianieuropei, Open Letters Monthly, A Safe World for Women and Women and Hollywood. She earned her B.A. in Anthropology and Sociology from UMass Amherst and a Graduate Certificate in Women and Politics and Public Policy from UMass Boston. You can follow all of Megan’s unapologetically opinionated thoughts — such as Leslie Knope’s awesomeness, the idiocy of anti-choice legislation, and where to find the best vegan doughnuts — on Twitter at @OpinionessWorld.

Women and Gender in Musicals Week: Female Friendship, Madonna/Whore Stereotypes and Rape Culture in ‘West Side Story’

[Trigger warning: for discussion of rape] | Spoilers ahead

West Side Story is one of my absolute favorite musicals. I adore the catchy lyrics, the breathtakingly exquisite choreography and cinematography, the heartbreaking love story. A modern Romeo and Juliet taking place in New York City amongst two rival gangs — one white, one Puerto Rican — it tackles racism, bigotry, murder and teen angst. But many audiences overlook the film’s portrayal of gender, female friendship and rape culture.
Anita and Maria are dear friends who confide in each other. Two strong women who know what they want and aren’t afraid to speak their minds. Rather than the film pitting the two women against each other, they support one another. But as awesome as this is, I can’t shake the feeling that we’re witnessing a Madonna/whore dichotomy in female archetypes.
Maria is sweet and naïve. When Tony first meets Maria, he asks her if she’s joking. She responds, “I have not yet learned how to joke that way.” Her brother Bernardo and Anita try to shield her from trouble as people view her as pure and virginal. Reinforcing this imagery, we see Maria pray in front of the Virgin Mary and in “Maria,” Tony sings “say it [her name] soft and it’s almost like praying.” But Maria tries to resist the label of purity as she tells her brother a white dress is for babies.

In stark contrast to Maria, Anita is opinionated, savvy, charismatic and flamboyant (and clearly my favorite character!). Outgoing and gregarious, she wears colorful frocks, as opposed to Maria’s white gowns. As much as I love her, Anita reinforces the feisty Latina harlot stereotype. Of course the depiction of race is problematic as the film employed brownface make-up for its Latino/a characters.

Anita proudly asserts her sexuality, eagerly singing about how she’s “gonna get her kicks” and “have a private little mix” with her boyfriend Bernardo in “Tonight.” The chemistry and banter between Anita and Bernardo reveal their tender feelings for one another. But their relationship is framed in sexuality. Even though Maria and Tony sleep together, their relationship is constantly surrounded by dreamy words of love, commitment and wedding imagery. While Anita sings about sex in “Tonight,” Maria croons about seeing her love and how the “stars will stop where they are.” It’s as if there’s a right and a wrong way to portray female sexuality.

Throughout the film, pragmatic cynic Anita tries to protect idealistic dreamer Maria. She expresses her worries about her dating Tony at the bridal shop. Later, in “A Boy Like That,” Anita warns Maria to stay away from him as he “wants one thing only” and “he’ll kill her love,” like he murdered hers. But Maria’s buoyant hope stave off Anita’s concerns.

It’s interesting how other characters treat women in the film. In “America,” the Sharks sing about the xenophobia and racism they experience while the women sing about their aspirations and the promise of a  better life in NYC. One of the Jets exasperatedly wonders why they’re fooling around with “dumb broads.” To which Graziella retorts, “Velma and I ain’t dumb.” Anybodys is the tomboy who desperately longs to be in the Jets. She hangs around the guys, spits on the ground and insults women, and sees the male gender as far more desirable. But rather than depicting gender variance or even a trans character, the Jets view Anybodys as a defective female. Some of the Jets taunt her that no one would want to sleep with her. Because apparently to them (and patriarchal society at large), a woman’s status resides only in her beauty, sexuality and desirability.
While gender relations are far from perfect, the Sharks and their girlfriends debate equally. But the Jets seem to view women as nothing more than objects. This objectification continues in the assault and attempted rape of Anita.

Maria begs Anita to give a message to Tony at Doc’s drug store. Anita reluctantly does so. When she arrives, she encounters violence at the hands of the Jets. In Aphra Behn (of Guerilla Girls)’s Gender Across Borders article, she disparages the ’09 Broadway revival as it turns the assault and “mock rape” of Anita into a real rape with the unzipping of A-rab’s pants:

“Why does everyone from Broadway to High School stage this scene as a fully realized rape scene? Because rape culture does not allow us to see it as anything but such a scene.” 
Behn may be right that this scene reinforces rape culture. But she’s completely wrong attempting to differentiate between a mock rape and a real rape. Rape is rape. Period.
I always interpreted the film version of West Side Story displaying assault and attempted rape. If Doc hadn’t stepped through the door and intervened, Anita would have been raped. Does it really make it better that the Jets were pretending to rape? Or that they were prevented from committing rape? No, no it doesn’t.
Behn states the original stage direction was to assault Anita and treat her like an object, not a sex object. But rape is not a sexual act. It’s an act of power. The Jets feel powerless over the death of Riff, their friend and leader. Being young, they’re tired of everyone telling them what to do, how to feel and behave. When Anita enters Doc’s drug store, she materializes into an outlet for their frustration and pain. As the Jets hold racist views, they see Anita, as a Latina, an other — an object to overpower
The Jets verbal and physical harassment and attempted rape disgust and disturb the audience. When Rita Moreno filmed that scene, she broke down and sobbed for 45 minutes for it reminded her of past pain, anger and trauma, including an attempted rape. This scene portrays the ramifications of patriarchy, racism and rape culture. It shows how society normalizes violence against women.
Anita’s anger, hatred and shame at the boys for what they’ve done to her ultimately causes the tragic ending. Her lie — that Chino murdered Maria — causes Tony to run around screaming for Chino to kill him too, which he does. Tony’s death causes hatred to fester inside Maria, corrupting the ingenue. Rather than evoking sympathy for an assault survivor, it seems we the audience are supposed to be angry at Anita for her treachery.

Anita is considered most people’s favorite character. And in my opinion, rightfully so. She’s a badass. While audiences continually embrace the role of Anita — awarding an Oscar to Rita Moreno, a Tony to Karen Olivo in the ’09 revival — it appears the film tries to vilify her, a cautionary warning to women. Women can be good and nice, like Maria, or sexually assertive and ultimately manipulative liars destroying lives, like Anita.
Women are supposed to choose the “right” kind of woman to emulate or suffer dire consequences.

 

Women and Gender in Musicals Week: Accidental Feminism in ‘Mary Poppins’

Julie Andrews as Mary Poppins
“Practically perfect in every way,” declares Mary Poppins, the quirky, assertive and indomitable nanny played with effervescence by stage and screen legend Julie Andrews. For me, that quote could pretty much sum up not only our protagonist but the film itself. 
I’ve been watching Mary Poppins ever since I was about 8 years old. I was forever drawn to books and movies with strong, intelligent and outspoken female characters. And Mary Poppins is no exception. 
Mary Poppins is kind yet stern, possessing a cheerful disposition. Playing games and singing songs, Mary Poppins is the nanny of Jane and Michael’s dreams. She takes them on fantastical journeys into chalk pictures, dances on the roofs of London with chimney sweeps and holds tea parties on the ceiling. Singing about spoonfuls of sugar, she teaches the children how to infuse fun into chores and the value of a positive perspective. She provides the guidance, attention and nurturing they both crave from their parents, especially their father. 
Beyond a strong and charismatic female protagonist, one of the most memorable feminist scenes? Well of course I’m talking about Mrs. Winifred Banks (Glynis Johns) belting out the song “Sister Suffragette.” When I was young I didn’t realize until I heard this song — and heard that “Mrs. Pankhurst has been clapped in irons again” — that women had to fight for the right to vote.

Mrs. Winifred Banks (Glynis Johns)
“We’re clearly soldiers in petticoats, 
Dauntless crusaders for women’s votes! 
Though we adore men individually, 
We agree that as a group they’re rather stupid. 
Cast off the shackles of yesterday! 
Shoulder to shoulder into the fray! 
Our daughters’ daughters will adore us 
And they’ll sing in grateful chorus, 
“Well done, Sister Suffragette!” 

Interestingly, this bastion of film feminism occurred accidentally. Glynis Johns thought she was the one getting the role of Mary Poppins, not Julie Andrews. In order to assuage her potential furor over this fuck-up, Walt Disney told Johns that she had a phenomenal solo. To cover his ass, Disney called up songwriters Robert B. and Richard M. Sherman and said (while Johns was in earshot) that she couldn’t wait to hear the song. The Sherman Brothers quickly researched women’s movements in 1910 England, and wrote “Sister Suffragette” so Johns could hear the song after her lunch with Disney. 

But why did the Sherman Brothers alter the homemaker into a women’s rights activist? Supposedly they needed to concoct a reason Winifred would be away from her children that would make a nanny necessary. So they made her a suffragette, making the movie accidentally feminist. Regardless, it taught many children — me included! — the struggle women endured. 
Now, there are a lot of reasons to question Mary Poppins as a feminist film. 
Carried on the winds by her umbrella, Mary Poppins differs from other nannies portrayed in the film by her fun whimsicality. But her beauty also sets her apart. We see Mary Poppins gazing at her reflection, powdering her nose, and bearing comely rosy cheeks. She is immediately associated as “good” due to her attractiveness.
The film showcases Winifred’s strength to advocate for women’s rights, saying that women will no longer be subservient. Yet that’s precisely what she is with her husband. 
Mrs. Winifred Banks (Glynis Johns)

George Banks (David Tomlinson) fancies himself “a king astride his noble steed,” envisioning his house a patriarchal castle and calling it “the age of men.” He haughtily berates his wife’s choice of nannies, all of who have been “unqualified disasters,” to which she promptly agrees. So George decides to take matters into his own hands and hire a proper nanny. Winifred continually tries to voice her children’s concerns, pointing out that their attempts to help or that they need kindness and understanding. And George continuously puts her down. The personal is political. Yet Winifred doesn’t seem to comprehend that. 
“In six minutes of film time, Mrs. Banks is changed from a balls-out feminist — ‘No more the meek and mild subservients, we!’ — to a surrendered wife. ‘I’m sorry, dear,’ she says. ‘I’ll try to do better next time.’” 
And it’s true. All her feminist badassery seems to unravel the minute her husband strolls through the door. While Winifred remains assertive in her public life, fighting for “political equality and equal rights with men,” in her personal life she speaks her mind yet obediently acquiesces to her domineering and controlling husband’s every whim.
But Winifred steadfastly continues with her suffrage activism even though she knows “the cause infuriates Mr. Banks.” But if she really let him control her, she would abandon women’s rights altogether. Winifred doesn’t cast aside her convictions merely because her husband doesn’t approve of women’s rights. She continues to fight for suffrage.

Some have criticized and admonished her as a mother for neglecting her children in order to attend meetings and protests. I call bullshit. Yes, she’s flighty. But I say her advocacy bolsters her motherhood. She continues to advocate for women’s rights, trying to make the world a more equitable place for her daughter and son. 

While Winifred talks about Mary Poppins to her husband, and how she positively impacts the children’s lives, the two women never speak to one another. Really? They never talk to each other once?? Bechdel Test fail. Weird, especially considering how both Winifred, in hiring nannies and helping preserve the household trinkets during Admiral Boom’s cannon blasts, and Mary Poppins, as a caretaker to the children, occupy domestic spheres.

Julie Andrews as Mary Poppins
With George’s job in banking and Winifred’s suffrage protests, each gains happiness outside the home. But Mary Poppins whole purpose revolves around the home. She flits from household to household healing dysfunctional families. But what about her personal life? We never really know what makes her happy. While she admirably makes her own decisions always on her own terms, Mary Poppins’ maternal role is strictly to serve others.

Even in the end, when she’s about to leave with the changing wind, her talking umbrella complains that the children never even said goodbye. While she clearly cares for Jane and Michael and her parting is bittersweet, Mary Poppins seems content. She’s finished her job and now she can go. Is that the lesson here? That we should sacrifice our own desire and always serve others? That goals other than family and home are detrimental to personal growth and happiness? 

Walt Disney considered the song “Feed the Birds,” his favorite song, the cornerstone of the movie. Mary Poppins sings about the merits of charity and the generosity of love. It’s this song that helps nudge Mr. Banks changed perspective from emotionally detached and controlling to warm and loving. And charity is certainly a noble trait. But is this subtly reifying traditional gender roles? That men are brutish while women are gentle and nurturing?

Jane Banks, Mary Poppins, Michael Banks
In the beginning of the film, George revels in patriarchy. But Mary Poppins challenges his long-held beliefs with her frivolity and refusal to explain herself. By the end, George realizes the value and importance of spending leisurely time with his family. Sadly, it’s not suffrage or feminism that spur him to realize the folly of treating his family like servile subjects. It’s not even a woman — not Mary Poppins, not Jane his daughter or Winifred his wife — who ultimately causes George’s transformation. Bert’s discussion of toiling away at work (“grind, grind, grind at that grindstone”) while childhood and time slip away “like sand through a sieve” tips George’s metamorphosis. 
You could argue that Mary Poppins’ brand of feminism, her outspoken assertiveness, truly changes all their lives. But George still couldn’t trust a woman’s words. He needed a man to reinforce her advice. 
Many have complained about the “perceived anti-feminist ending,” that Winifred gives up fighting for women’s rights because she attaches one of her “Votes for Women” sashes as the kite’s tail. Author P.L. Travers notoriously despised the film, for its animated sequences and for making Mary Poppins character less strict. But she also supposedly hated its anti-feminist ending. 
The Banks Family

 But I never saw it this way.

In the beginning of the film, Winifred gives out various sashes to Ellen the maid, Mrs. Brill the cook and Katie Nana. So clearly she possessed extras. Why assume she was automatically giving up feminist activism? Since George abhorred suffrage, I saw Winifred’s public display of her sash as a union of the personal and the political. She was bringing feminism into her family rather than merely advocating for equality politically. She was no longer hiding her identity. Finally, Winifred let her feminist flag fly. Literally. 

Portraying a suffragette and an outspoken female protagonist, Mary Poppins possesses brilliant moments of feminist clarity. How many other musicals contain overtly feminist songs advocating gender equality and sisterly solidarity? While it simultaneously seems to reinforce the traditional gender roles it initially rails against, the movie forever reminds me of the need for women to speak their minds and fight for their rights, in politics and in the home. 
It may not be “practically perfect” after all. But it’s pretty damn close.

The Zoe Saldana / Nina Simone Biopic Controversy Illustrates the Need for More Black Women Filmmakers

(L-R): Zoe Saldana and Nina Simone; image via Black Street

When Zoe Saldana was recently cast as legendary singer Nina Simone in her upcoming biopic, the decision ignited a firestorm of controversy. People have vehemently criticized the decision. Not because Saldana isn’t a skilled actor (she is). But because her skin is much lighter than the music icon.

I’ve wanted to write about this topic for awhile now. But how can I, a white woman, do justice to the complex issue of race?
I’ll never know discrimination or oppression based on the color of my skin. But I realized that while the whitewashing of Hollywood remains an ongoing conversation in the Black community, it’s not a discussion amongst everyone. And it should be.
Nina Simone’s daughter Simone spoke to Ebony about why skin color should matter in the casting of her mother’s biopic:

“I can guarantee that the sense of insecurity and the questioning of one’s beauty that results from a grownup telling you that as a child you’re too black and your nose is too wide, remained with her [her mother Nina Simone] for the rest of her life.” 

At The Huffington Post, Nicole Moore writes about Nina Simone and the “erasure of black women in film”:

“Because Simone’s blackness extended as much to her musical prowess as to her physicality and image, it’s perplexing that the film’s production team, led by Jimmy Iovine, expects anyone, particularly in the black community, to (re)imagine Nina Simone as fair-skinned, thin-lipped and narrow-nosed? I guess if you look at Hollywood’s history of casting black female roles, especially in biopics, it’s not all that surprising.”

Hollywood has a massive race and gender problem. Black women’s bodies belong to a dichotomy suffering from either fetishization or erasure. When Black women appear in media, which doesn’t happen nearly enough, they suffer from stereotypes of mammies, jezebels and sapphires. And too many producers and directors clearly don’t understand the nuances of race, thinking any person of color will suffice.

Clutch Magazine’s Britni Danielle writes about the biopic and Hollywood’s massive misunderstanding and insensitivity when it comes to women and race:

“In the past few years Hollywood has consistently gotten it wrong when it comes to telling black women’s narratives. From the questionable choice of casting Thandie Newton as an Igbo woman in the film adaptation of the novel Half of a Yellow Sun and Jennifer Hudson as Winnie Mandela, to Jacqueline Fleming, a biracial woman, playing Harriet Tubman, when other people are in charge of portraying us, it seems like any brown face will do.”

The Atlantic’s Ta-Nehisi Coates also finds the “bleaching of Nina Simone” problematic and reinforcing systemic racism:

“But this casting (with no shot taken at Saldana) manages to both erase the specific kind of racism Simone contended with and at the same time empower it.”  

Most white people probably don’t realize the painful history of colorism and skin shade hierarchy — dark vs. light skin — Black women continually face. When the media portrays Black women, we often see women with lighter skin and more Caucasian features. Both L’Oreal and Elle photoshopped Black women — Beyonce and Gabby Sidibe — to make their skin appear much lighter. In film, advertisements and magazine spreads, the media often whitewashes black women, continually perpetuating the unachievable attainment of the white ideal of beauty.

At The Daily Beast, Allison Samuels writes about “the myth of black beauty” and skin color:

“Skin color and its importance around the world—and particularly in the African-American community—has been a hot-button issue for generations. The debate over skin color and its painful origins dates back to the days of slavery, when lighter skin often equaled a better overall quality of life. With more pronounced European features, bearers of a lighter complexion were also considered more attractive than their darker-skinned peers. Possessing this trait was believed to open the cracked doors of opportunity ever wider.”

Due to white privilege, white people don’t agonize over their skin color. We don’t have to worry if someone will harass us or follow us around in a department store, thinking we’re going to steal merchandise simply because of our skin. If we move, we don’t have to worry about finding neighbors who don’t like us because of our skin color. We don’t have to fret over something as simple as putting on a Band-Aid which won’t match our skin tone.

My point is this: we don’t ever have to think about race. Sure, we can if we want to. But we don’t haveto. And therein lies the privilege.
But Spectra, an amazing Afrofeminist writer, asserts the dark vs. light skin in the Zoe Saldana/Nina Simone biopic debate misses the point about Black women in the media. She poses that Black women must create media in order to reclaim and tell their own stories: 
“The hard truth is this: if we spent more time creating media instead of criticizing it, there’d be way more diversity in representation, and way more stories and perspectives to which white people can be more frequently held accountable. 

“Pushing for ownership of both the infrastructure and content that portrays our lived experiences – that is the crux of the issue; not just the politics of light vs. dark-skinned actresses. So, whereas I am completely on board with calling out the colorism behind the biopic’s casting choices (and the harmful message that’s being sent to young, dark-skinned black girls everywhere by having a light-skinned woman play Nina Simone) there aren’t enough strong lead roles written for women of color in Hollywood for me to fairly tell Zoe Saldana, a hard-working, talented brown woman to ”sit this one out.”

Here at Bitch Flicks, we talk a lot about the need for more female filmmakers and women-centric films. One of the takeaways from the Zoe Saldana/Nina Simone controversy is that we desperately need more women of color filmmakers.

The Help crystallizes Hollywood’s problem with Black women. Sure, we see strong and complex Black women telling their stories of discrimination and hardship to writer Skeeter (Emma Stone). But even in a film containing the inarguably talented Viola Davis and Octavia Spencer giving phenomenal Oscar nominated and Oscar-winning performances, it still remains a racially problematic film. Even in a film that supposedly champions Black women, it ultimately revolves around a white female protagonist’s perspective.
While women filmmakers don’t merely depict female protagonists, when more women are behind the camera, we tend to see more women in front of the camera. Looking back at this year’s movies, female-fronted films such as Brave, The Hunger Games, Prometheus, and Snow White and the Huntsman graced the big screen. We saw women-centric indies like Your Sister’s Sister, Take This Waltz, For a Good Time Call… and Bachelorette. We even witnessed strong women in male-dominated movies like Catwoman in The Dark Knight Rises and Black Widow in The Avengers.
But when you look at the female protagonists — aside from Beasts of the Southern Wild, Sparkle, The Lady, Girl in Progress and Celeste and Jesse Forever which all featured women of color in lead roles — you’ll notice their overwhelming whiteness.
Perhaps if we had more Black women filmmakers, we would see more nuanced and diverse depictions of Black women on-screen.
Now, that doesn’t mean white women and men can’t or shouldn’t write strong, complex Black female characters. But it does mean white people have to stop appropriating Black women’s narratives, especially if we’re not going to take the time to attempt to understand the intricate and painful complexities of the light vs. dark skin stigma. And we’ve got to stop pretending we live in a post-racial society. We don’t.
We need more films from Black women directors like Ava DuVernay, Dee Rees and Julie Dash. But we aren’t seeing enough Black women in front of or behind the camera. In her Women and Hollywood cross-post, Evette Dionne wonders “Where are the black women film directors?” She explores the “exile of black women film directors” by studios that refuse to fund their work.

“So black women, one of the most sought after audience demographics for movie studios, aren’t behind the camera providing insight into our culture. This leads to a misrepresentation of the black community on the silver screen. Often, we are caricatures of ourselves, as evidenced in Jumping the Broom and other projects, which leads to resentment for what the media machine represents in our communities.”

When a young Black female tennis player is told she’s too fat to receive funding, when the Swedish Minister of Culture and rapper 2Chainz eat racist cakes of dismembered Black women’s bodies, when the media cares more about criticizing Olympic gold-medal winning gymnast Gabby Douglas’ hair than her performance — we as a society clearly have a fucked-up, racist and misogynistic problem denigrating and oppressing Black women.

Last year, I had the overwhelming privilege of meeting one of my feminist idols, Professor Melissa Harris-Perry (squee!!). After her brilliant and empowering speech on her must-read book Sister Citizen, she graciously stayed afterwards and spoke to each and every person. When I finally got my chance to talk to her, I gushed about how much I loved her and how she needed her own TV show (and this was BEFORE her fantastic MSNBC weekend show was announced!). I also asked her how to be a good ally to women of color. She gave the simplest yet hardest advice of all. Listen. When in a room with women of color, she said to be silent, listen and let them speak for themselves. When you find yourself in a space with no women of color, that’s when you need to speak up.
So we white women (and men) need to speak up against racism.
When people talk about the need for more women in media — sadly, they often mean white women. Many of us who write about the need for women’s representation in film or women-created media feel satisfaction when we see white female leads on-screen and white female writers and directors. But that’s got to change. We need films to portray women of all races, created by women of all races — not just white women and think we’ve somehow achieved some semblance of equity.
White women and men filmmakers need to realize the damage they wreak when they only cast light-skinned Black women (if they cast women of color at all), especially in a biopic of a famous Black woman with dark skin.
It’s time for us white women to listen. Listen to black women. Listen to their needs and wants and support them from the sidelines. We can’t merely be satisfied when any woman stands on-screen. Black women must be behind the camera, telling their own stories.

 

Asshat CNN Contributor Erick Erickson Wants to Silence Powerful Women by Reducing Them to Vaginas

Conservative political blogger and CNN Contributor Erick Erickson, who apparently thinks women are nothing more than talking vaginas

Here we go again. Another sexist conservative pundit makes yet another misogynistic slur against women. 

Douchebag conservative political blogger and commentator Erick Erickson, aka “CNN’s Resident Conservative Jackass,” responded to the DNC’s impressive roster of accomplished women speakers by tweeting this lovely sexist gem:

First night of the Vagina Monologues in Charlotte going as expected.
— Erick Erickson (@EWErickson) September 5, 2012

Oh, you know those annoying talking ladies, oh I mean talking vaginas. How silly of me!

The first night of the DNC featured numerous speeches by strong, accomplished women. First lady Michelle Obama, equal pay activist Lilly Ledbetter, NARAL Pro-Choice American President Nancy Keenan and congressional candidate Tammy Duckworth, an Iraq war veteran and former Army pilot (who also faced sexism from her opponent Rep. Joe Walsh (R-IL), saying Duckworth will only debate “which outfit she’ll be wearing”…I mean what the fuck?!). But clearly Erickson (and Rep. Walsh) felt the need to demean and silence powerful women in his idiotic tweet. 
Women have repeatedly been objectified, reduced to their body parts and compared to animals (insulting for women while simultaneously demeaning to animals as the analogy intends to dehumanize and objectify them both…but that’s a whole other post) in the media. These types of misogynistic comments seek to shame women and strip away their power. In other words, putting women in their place and reminding them of the patriarchal hierarchy.
My friend Sarah and I saw The Vagina Monologues years ago. I loved it. Now I know it’s highly problematic with its line about a “good rape” (um, no) and its colonial attitudes towards non-Western women. But I found it liberating to hear women onstage discuss their vaginas and their sexuality with candor, anger, sadness, humor and hope — to reclaim their bodies. How ironic that Erickson co-opted feminist activist and playwright Eve’s Ensler’s empowering and groundbreaking play in an attempt to silence women.
In response to his misogyny, women’s rights group UltraViolet launched a petition to fire Erickson which has garnered over 100,000 signatures. In their petition, UltraViolet states:
“Seriously? He hears powerful, eloquent women talking about crucial issues and that’s his reaction? Perhaps it shouldn’t be that surprising, given his history of insulting women. Earlier this year, he defended Rush Limbaugh’s attacks on Sandra Fluke, saying “her testimony before congress that American taxpayers should subsidize the sexual habits of Georgetown Law School students because, God forbid, they should stop having sex if they cannot afford the pills themselves.

“He’s got a long history of sexist comments and has gone way too far.” 

Wow reducing women to vaginas AND defending Rush Limbaugh’s misogyny. He’s a swell guy. Erickson has notoriously made numerous sexist, racist and homophobic comments calling feminists ugly “Feminazis,” telling women to go back into the kitchen and labeling Michelle Obama a “Marxist harpy wife.” Let me get him on speed dial, I want to date him right now. 
As Samhita Mukhopadhyay wrote, Erickson “is afraid of ladies that won’t submit to an agenda that destroys every right we’ve earned.” Numerous abortion restrictions, slut-shaming activists, and horrific comments on rape — conservative anti-choicers are obsessed with controlling our vaginas and our reproductive rights. And it’s time the sexist bullshit stopped. 
Sure, Erickson can faux apologize. But maybe I’d actually believe him if he didn’t perpetually utter hateful slander. 
We’ve got to remain vigilant and keep calling out sexism and misogyny in the media. CNN hired Erickson to have an “ideologically diverse group of political contributors.” But that diversity should not include hate speech. As Sarah Jones writes:  
“Firing Erickson won’t get rid of misogyny, but it will send a message that it is not acceptable for serious professionals.” 

Misogyny cannot and should not be tolerated. Powerful female leaders deserve respect, not sexist denigration.
For more information on UltraViolet’s petition.

Happy Women’s Equality Day! Celebrate Women’s Suffrage By Watching ‘Iron Jawed Angels’ and ‘Bad Romance’ Parody

Iron Jawed Angels

Women’s Equality Day commemorates the passage of the 19th amendment, women’s suffrage, which the U.S. government ratified the 19th amendment on August 18, 1920 enabling women to vote. 

Too often, people say women were given the vote. Women weren’t given anything. They valiantly spoke out, organized, protested and fought for their rights.
One of my favorite films, Iron Jawed Angels captures feminist activists Alice Paul (Hilary Swank in one of her best performances) and Lucy Burns (Frances O’Connor) in their vigilant struggle to get Congress to pass the 19th amendment. While established suffragettes like Carrie Chapmann Catt and Anna Howard Shaw ran the more conservative National American Women Suffrage Association (NAWSA) which worked on suffrage state by state, Paul and Burns founded the National Women Party (NWP) in 1917 to rally women and demand a federal amendment. Paul and Burns organized thousands of suffragettes to march in parades in NYC and DC and protest President Wilson during wartime outside of the White House. They endured harassment, incarceration, a hunger strike and force feeding. 
While I wished it had included more scenes with women of color (suffragist and anti-lynching activist Ida B. Wells only makes a brief appearance), the film gives a fantastic overview of the sexism and uphill battle suffragists faced to ensure future generations of women could vote.
Here are two of my favorite quotes from Iron Jawed Angels:
“We women of America tell you that America is not a democracy. Twenty million women are denied the right to vote.” — Alice Paul (Hilary Swank)

“You ask me to explain myself. I’m just wondering, what needs to be explained? It should be very clear. Look into your own heart—I swear to you, mine is no different. You want a place in a trades and professions where you can earn your bread; so do I. You want the means of self-expression, some way to satisfy your own personal ambitions; so do I. You want a voice in the government under which you live; so do I. What is there to explain?” — Alice Paul (Hillary Swank)

When we face a daily bombardment of restrictions on abortion access and contraception which threaten our reproductive rights, when legislators like Todd Akin victim-blame and slut-shame women with asinine comments about “legitimate rape,” when laws don’t protect rape and domestic violence survivors, when trans women like Cece McDonald are incarcerated for self-defense, when the LGBTQI community is persecuted for their gender identity and sexual orientation — you realize how vital it becomes to exercise your right to vote. We need to make our voices heard.
In addition to Iron Jawed Angels, if you haven’t seen it (or just want to watch it again), check out the parody of Lady Gaga’s “Bad Romance” paying homage to Alice Paul and honoring the struggle for suffrage and equality.
Now get out there and vote, ladies!

‘True Blood’ Asserts a Pro-Choice Reproductive Rights Message

Tara Thornton (Rutina Wesley) and Pam De Beaufort (Kristin Bauer van Straten) in True Blood

Warning: If you haven’t seen True Blood, Season 5, Episodes 10 and 11, spoilers ahead!!
 
I’m pretty much hooked on True Blood. A sexy TV show with a female protagonist, female friendship, diverse and complex female characters, dreamy brooding men (eh, vampires) with tortured souls — what’s not to love??  
The popular series has long been called an allegory for LGBTQI rights with its phrases “God Hates Fangs” and vampires “coming out of the coffin.”  TV show creator and former showrunner Alan Ball sees True Blood as an analogy for “anyone that’s misunderstood” while author Charlaine Harris envisioned her series of novels which inspired the show as framing the vampires as a minority fighting for equal rights.  
But in the last 2 episodes, another parallel has been drawn: the struggle for reproductive rights.

In Season 5, viewers are introduced to the inner machinations of the Authority, a theocratic vampire government. In “Gone, Gone, Gone,” the Authority appoints creepy Elijah (who looks like he stepped out of a bad 80s hair metal band video) as the new Area 5 vampire sheriff in Bon Temps. When he arrives at the vampire bar Fangtasia, he bullies the fabulously sardonic Pam De Beaufort (Kristin Bauer van Straten) and fierce survivor (turned vampire) Tara Thornton (Rutina Wesley)…aka my new favorite female duo. Elijah informs them of the Authority’s new mandate where vampires must create 30 new “baby vamps” in the district.  
Hmmm…sound familiar? Not unlike legislative restrictions on abortion access and contraception. 
After Elijah leaves, Tara muses to Pam that she will create 2 new vampires as she always wanted kids anyway. But Pam tells her: 
“No. We procreate because we want to. Not because some dickhead dipped in afterbirth told us to.” 
Later, Tara decides to take a stand. She tricks Elijah into thinking she’s accidentally killed someone while turning them into a vampire, then she swiftly decapitates him. When Pam enters the room, annoyed and exasperated, Tara tells her: 
“We’re not running. No one fucks with us in our house.” 
In last week’s episode “Sunset,” Pam fears the repercussions of Elijah’s murder from the oppressive Authority. Pam explains to Tara (who’s never heard of the Authority) how the regime doles out both laws and religious doctrine. Tara replies: 
“They can both keep their fucking laws off my body.”
Yes, yes, yes. Just one of the many pro-choice mantras feminists declared protesting the proliferation of heinous anti-choice laws.
But Pam responds: 
“No, they can do whatever they want with your body.” 
Again, sounds eerily like what conservative anti-choice legislators are trying to do: control women’s bodies any way they can. 
Sure, True Bloodis a gory, soap opera romp. But underneath the show’s glossy exterior, Tara and Pam’s conversation conveys the dangers and implications of anti-choice legislation.  
Ball acknowledged the political undertones as he said in an interview that Season 5 was inspired by the Republican primaries and watching Michele Bachmann and Rick Santorum. He started thinking about what it would be like to have a theocracy in America. He also found it “terrifying…how many people agree” with them.  When you stop and think about it, reproductive health is a big part of our lives. Whether we’re using it, talking about it or advocating access. Yet pop culture and media render it almost invisible. 
Reproductive rights are too often absent from film and TV. While notable exceptions exist — Maude, Grey’s Anatomy, Roseanne, Dirty Dancing, Private Practice, Friday Night Lights, Greenberg, Vera Drake, Degrassi, Sex and the City, Girls — most movies and TV series don’t show characters having abortions. But it’s not just abortions missing from plotlines. Besides a few examples — Sex and the City, Girls, Knocked Up, The Walking Dead, Lola Versus,The 40-Year-Old Virgin, Sons of Anarchy — pop culture has a “weird silence on birth control” and condoms.  
Anti-choicers have launched an all-out war on reproductive justice, demonizing abortion and contraception. And pop culture has remained fairly silent. Now, I’m not saying it’s the job of films and TV shows to educate. But media “reflects and shapes our values and opinions.” It can reinforce tired tropes and stereotypes, perpetuate myths or shed light on a topic and spark dialogue. Media impacts the way we view the world around us. 
Besides salacious sex and shocking plot twists, True Blood transcends mere escapist fun. Weaving reproductive rights into its plot, it makes a bold statement about oppressive governments and the repercussions if we don’t fight back. 
With the proliferation of legislative attacks on reproductive rights, we contend with a daily battle for our bodily autonomy. It’s nice to see this struggle reflected in mainstream media…even amongst vampires, fairies and werewolves.

Actor Elizabeth Banks Advocates for Planned Parenthood and Reproductive Rights

Check out Elizabeth Banks talking about reproductive rights in the video below. In this Obama for America PSA, she shares how Planned Parenthood was her healthcare provider after college when she couldn’t afford health insurance. Banks obtained birth control and says she doesn’t want to and shouldn’t have to discuss her “heavy flow” with her employer or anyone else other than her doctor. And she astutely asserts Planned Parenthood helps working class women obtain affordable healthcare.

While I wish she didn’t downplay abortion (abortion is healthcare, people), it’s fantastic to see a celebrity speaking out to support reproductive rights. Right fucking on, Elizabeth!

Quote of the Day: Emma Stone Points Out Sexist Double Standards in Media

Emma Stone in Teen Vogue, August 2012; photographed by Josh Olins
It’s no surprise sexism permeates the media. Women are constantly judged and praised for their beauty and appearance. Not their merit, intellect or accomplishments. This incessant importance on women’s appearances over their talent reduces us to objects. 
As I perused my Pinterest feed last week, I came across a picture courtesy of Upworthy of Emma Stone calling out sexism. Could it be? Is Stone a secret feminist?? I had to investigate.  

In its August 2012 issue, Teen Vogue conducted a joint interview with Emma Stone and Andrew Garfield to promote The Amazing Spider-Man (Sidebar, do we really need a Spider-Man reboot?? How about a Wonder Woman or Catwoman film first…ugh). After the interviewer inquired, “Emma, I have to ask about your hair color,” Stone talked about how she preferred being a blonde because it’s the hair color she possessed as a child. But then here’s where things get awesome.

Emma Stone: But people do always ask that. They ask who is my style icon, what’s the one thing that I can’t leave my house without. I’m always like, “My clothes!” I can pretty much leave without anything.It’s fine as long as I’m not naked. 
Andrew Garfield: I don’t get asked that— 
Emma Stone:You get asked interesting, poignant questions because you are a boy.
Teen Vogue: It’s sexism. 
Emma Stone: It is sexism. 
Women and men getting asked different questions strictly based on their gender? Yep, it sure is sexism.

I already knew Stone was pretty fab. In addition to her hilarious public appearances at the Emmys and the Oscars, she’s a funny and talented actor. The same woman who convinced her parents to let her move to Hollywood with a power point presentation seizes the moment to point out sexist gender disparities in the media. What makes her astute comment even better? She calls out sexism in a fashion magazine…for young women. 

At first glance, it seems to make sense fashion and beauty magazines would ask celebs questions belonging to the realm of fashion, hair, cosmetics, diet and exercise. I mean that’s their job, right? So why do I care that Stone — or any celeb — is constantly asked about her hair color or her style icon? What’s the big deal? 
The media constantly dissects, critiques and polices women’s bodies. Men don’t face the same bombardment of scrutiny. This sexist double standard perpetuates the notion that men lead while women serve as objects of beauty. 
As much as I love clothes, fashion and beauty magazines can wreak havoc on women’s and girls’ self-esteem and body image. According to Miss Representation, “3 out of 4 teen girls feel depressed, guilty and shameful after spending 3 minutes leafing through a fashion magazine.” But beauty and diet questions aren’t merely relegated to fashion and fitness magazines. Mainstream media outlets obsessively ask women these questions too. 
At a press conference for The Avengers a few months ago, Scarlett Johansson exhibited her exasperation at the way the media treats women differently than men. Johansson’s co-star Robert Downey Jr. received a lengthy, “interesting and existential question” about Iron Man’s growth and maturity, which would have allowed him to talk about his inspiration, motivation and talent. What question did this same reporter ask Johansson? She was asked about what food she ate…another sexist diet question. 
A reporter for Extra also interrogated Johansson about the underwear she wore under her svelte Black Widow suit and Anne Hathaway about her diet and exercise regimen to fit into the slinky Catwoman costume — while he asked their male co-stars about the films and their characters. 
The media treats men as complex, introspective artists while simultaneously reducing women to objects, only interrogating them about their hair color, clothing, diet, and fitness regimens. The message is clear: women’s talent and intellect don’t really matter. Only their outer beauty and thinness matters. 
Thankfully, we’ve also witnessed Ashley Judd, Meryl Streep, Zoe Saldana, Scarlett Johansson, Anne Hathaway (in an albeit subtle way), Sarah Polley, Rashida Jones and now Emma Stone calling out sexism — objectification, body policing and double standards — in the media and Hollywood. Teens have also started speaking out with petitions against Seventeen and Teen Vogue to cease photoshopping and increase images of diversity. We need more people — women and men — denouncing misogyny and sexism. Only then can we hope to attain equality.

Hollywood, like the rest of society, is far from gender equitable. Female actors earn far less than their male colleagues. Only 33% of speaking roles belong to women. Women write only 10% and direct a mere 7% of the 250 top grossing domestic films. We don’t see nearly enough complex women on-screen as too many films revolve around white dudes. All of these abysmal stats coinciding with the media’s rampant objectification, misogyny and sexism strip women and girls of their power.

With Teen Vogue’s huge readership, who knows…maybe young women will read Stone’s interview, see the discussion of sexism and start questioning the gender disparities in the media’s depiction of women. Maybe Stone’s comment will help catalyze change. Hey, a woman can dream.

Women in Science Fiction Week: Princess Leia: Feminist Icon or Sexist Trope?

Princess Leia Organa (Carrie Fisher) in Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope

 
When I was a young girl, Star Wars was my favorite movie. I’ve watched it more times than any other film. Premiering in 1977, the same year I was born, the epic sci-fi space opera irrevocably changed the movie industry. Beyond battle scenes, or the twist of Vader being Luke’s father, it impacted my childhood. Because Princess Leia was my idol.

In the Star WarsTrilogy, Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan (Carrie Fisher) was a member of the Imperial Senate, a diplomat and a spy for the Rebel Alliance. Courageous and determined, she boasted a defiant will. Leia boldly spoke her mind. And it’s what resonated the most with me.  
When I was 7, my mom sewed a Princess Leia costume for me for Halloween. A white dress with a hood cinched by a sparkly belt and accompanied by a plastic light saber. Yes, I realize Leia didn’t wield a light saber in the movies but she did have a laser gun. I continued to wear that costume long after Halloween. Every week (sometimes multiple times in a week), I would pop in our VHS of Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, don my white dress and act out Princess Leia’s scenes. I probably would have worn that costume to school if my mother had let me.
Looking back, why did Leia have to be a princess? Why did she have to bear a title that too often symbolizes hyperfemininity, passivity and sexualization? Why couldn’t she have been the President’s daughter or a merely a Senator? So yes, Leia is a princess. But she’s a badass warrior princess — a precursor to the rise of the warrior princesses we’re currently seeing today.
Princess Leia captured by Stormtroopers in Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope
In the very first scenes of Star Wars, we see Leia shoot a laser gun. Yeah, she gets captured. But she didn’t go down without a fight. When she’s taken hostage, Leia unflinchingly stands up to Darth Vader, who intimidates everyone. But not her. She remains defiant. She stands up to Governor Tarkin, the Death Star’s Commander too as we witness in this compelling exchange:
Princess Leia:Governor Tarkin, I should have expected to find you holding Vader’s leash. I recognized your foul stench when I was brought on board.
Governor Tarkin:Charming to the last. You don’t know how hard I found it, signing the order to terminate your life.
Princess Leia: I’m surprised that you had the courage to take the responsibility yourself.
Governor Tarkin:Princess Leia, before your execution, I’d like you to join me for a ceremony that will make this battle station operational. No star system will dare oppose the Emperor now.
Princess Leia: The more you tighten your grip, Tarkin, the more star systems will slip through your fingers.
Even after she’s tortured by Vader, she refuses to reveal the location of the Rebel Base. When Grand Moff Tarkin, the Death Star’s Commander, threatens Leia to reveal the location of the Rebel Base or they’ll destroy her home planet of Alderaan, she lies disclosing a false location.
When Luke Skywalker, Han Solo and Chewbacca stage a rescue, Leia isn’t automatically obsequious. She immediately questions Luke when he’s disguised as a Stormtrooper with her infamous line, “Aren’t you a little short for a Stormtrooper?” When they’re all trapped, Leia takes matters into her own hands and shoots their way into a garbage chute, telling them, “Well somebody has to save our skins.” Leia continues to retain her grip of control when she tells Han: “I don’t know who you are or where you came from, but from now on you’ll do as I tell you, okay?”
Of course he horrifyingly says to Luke, “If we can just avoid any more female advice, we ought to be able to get out of here.” Nice. So men shouldn’t listen to a fucking diplomatic senator. Oh no. Why? Clearly, because they have vaginas.

L-R: Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill), Leia (Carrie Fisher) and Han Solo (Harrison Ford) in Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope
Even though Leia has romantic feelings for Han Solo in The Empire Strikes Back, she continues to call out his arrogant bullshit. She quips snappy retorts such as, “I’d just as soon kiss a Wookie” and “I don’t know where you get your delusions, laser brain.” She’s never at a loss for words and never afraid to express herself.
She also has burgeoning psychic powers as she picks up on Luke’s cries for help at the end of the film. Obi-Wan tells Yoda when Luke Skywalker leaves Dagobah, “That boy is our last hope.” But Yoda wisely tells him, “No, there is another,” cryptically referring to Luke’s twin sister Leia.
In Return of the Jedi, Leia puts herself in harm’s way posing as a bounty hunter to save Han. Sadly, after she’s captured by Jabba the Hut, she’s notoriously objectified and reduced to a sex object in the iconic metal bikini, essentially glamorizing and eroticizing slavery. And of course she needs to be rescued. Again. 
Leia gets rescued. A lot. And that’s incredibly frustrating and annoying. But Leia often subverts the sexist Damsel in Distress trope. She takes matters into her own hands to free herself and others, whether it’s shooting their way into the garbage chute in Star Wars, shooting Stormtroopers, rescuing Han (Return of the Jedi), rescuing Luke (Empire Strikes Back), or killing Jabba the Hutt. Even when she’s being rescued, Leia always spouts her acerbic opinions, refuses to back down, and asserts her identity.

Princess Leia advising Rebel pilots in Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back
Throughout the trilogy, we see Leia lead and dispense tactical information to Rebel fighters. But ultimately, her underlying role appears to be to motivate Luke on his hero’s quest and Han on his personal transformation. Although George Lucas’ original ending with Leia coronated as Queen of the survivors of Alderaan sounds pretty amazing. It also would have been great to see her begin training as a Jedi, something the books explore. But even when you have a strong female protagonist, like Leia, her story must take a back seat to the dudes.
Now, I love Star Wars. But if you stop and think about the Star Wars Trilogy, it’s pretty shitty to women.
We only ever see 3 women — Princess Leia, Mon Mothma, Aunt Beru (Luke’s aunt) — who aren’t slave girls or dancers. Men make decisions, lead battles, pilot planes, smuggle goods and train as Jedis. It’s men, men, men as far as the eye can see. Hell, even the robots are dudes.

Wicket the Ewok and Princess Leia in Episode VI: Return of the Jedi
The entire Star Wars Trilogy suffers from the Smurfette Principle. The fact that there are no other women for Leia to talk to or interact with perpetuates the notion that women’s lives ultimately revolve around men. With a marketing campaign — if you look at the poster for each film — turned Leia into nothing more than a sex object (and of course aided by the metal bikini) reifying the idea that women’s bodies belong solely to tantalize the male gaze.
Boys and men see numerous male characters to emulate. But for girls and women? We get one. Leia. Well, unless you count Aunt Beru or Mon Mothma, both of whom only get like 60 seconds of screen-time. Leia exists as the sole token female.
“In Star Wars, a boy can grow up to be a knight, or a wizard. But if you’re a girl, you have one good role model…But you better be born a princess or good at space hooking cause those are your options.”
As the above video from Crackedastutely points out, all the women in the Star Wars Trilogy are space strippers, aside from Leia, Aunt Beru and Mon Mothma (a Republic senator and co-founder of the Rebellion, aka the red-haired woman in Return of the Jediwho gives tactical orders to the rebels). The Cracked writers also assert that Leia is actually a terrible female role model because she ditches her duties with the Rebellion to save her man (although so do the dudes) and then blows up Jabba’s barge which was filled with other slave women. Okay, that’s pretty douchey, Leia.
Sure, you could blame it on the fact that Star Wars is 35 years old. But even in the Prequel Trilogy, we haven’t come much further. While we definitely see more women — Queen Padme Amidala, Shmi Skywalker (Anakin’s mother), Naboo queens Queen Apailana and Queen Jamillia, Jedi Knights Staas Allie and Aayla Secura, Jedi Master Depa Billaba, Queen Breha Organa (Leia’s adoptive mother), Zam Wessell (bounty hunter who attempts to kill Padme) — only Padme and Shmi receive any focus. And of course their lives revolve around men. Actually, their lives around one man: Anakin. Yes, Padme is a political leader. But her role as birth mother to Leia and Luke and her death fueling Anakin’s anger trump any individuality she possesses. Both Padme and Shmi die tragically; both women’s purpose in the films serves to explain why Anakin turned to the Dark Side. 
Clearly, sexism and racism plague the Star Wars Trilogy. Really, only 3 women speak, only 3 women aren’t strippers and only 1 black person…in the whole fucking galaxy?! Gee thanks, George Lucas.

Princess Leia in Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back
If it seems like I vacillate between hailing Leia a feminist icon and condemning her a sexist trope, it’s because I’m torn. Leia is a spirited, fearless and fierce female protagonist. She kicks ass. Yet she exists in a fictitious galaxy mired by sexism where women barely exist that continually puts men — their stories, their perspectives, their struggles — front and center.
Despite its massive gender and race problems, Princess Leia aided me through my childhood. For a mouthy, opinionated little girl who was always getting in trouble for voicing their thoughts, Leia emulated a confident and rebellious woman. She had crucial duties and responsibilities as a leader and revolutionary. But she didn’t give a shit what anyone thought. Unafraid to let her temper flare, she spoke her mind regardless of the consequences.
In a world that so often silences women’s and girls’ voices, Leia shone as a beacon of hope. Not only did she teach me women could be political leaders and fight for freedom. But she affirmed that women can and should fearlessly speak their minds and take charge of their lives.