If when I was younger, had I seen positive trans roles in film and TV, yeah, of course my life would be different. My life would be different because I would have felt like I had existed a lot sooner than I did. I don’t feel like I existed until I met my first trans person, and they weren’t on TV. I didn’t know they existed, and I didn’t know I existed as a result of it. Had I seen someone when I was younger I might have known who I was, and it might have saved me from a lot of struggle.
Today in checking our privilege, I want to talk about how representation matters.
Reading from scriptures* was off-and-on a near-daily experience in my formative years. (*for us that meant the Book of Mormon, the King James Bible, and some other LDS sacred texts) We read about the old Mormon prophets: Nephi, Mormon, Abinadi – their heroic and daring and unwavering faith. We read about the old testament prophets: Jacob and Abraham and Noah – their (blind) (come on, even as a child the old testament was messed up) obedience and… actually, I never got much out of those stories. And we read the new testament, the gospels mostly, and Jesus was the ultimate self-sacrificing hero there. And in my middle-child, people-pleasing way I tried very hard to be the best Mormon girl I could be, holding these men up as the epitome of devotion to God.
And then I read a version of the first chapter of the Book of Mormon with gender-swapped people and pronouns. I must’ve been at least 20, probably older, and suddenly a floor fell out from under me. I found myself crying, sobbing really. My whole life I had been missing something and I never even had been able to recognize it. I wanted to be able to see me in the stories I had been taught from birth. I wanted to be able to see me in our heroes. I didn’t know I needed it, not consciously, until it was given to me. Continue reading “It’s Monday! and Representation Matters”→
I love the movie Mad Max: Fury Road. From just a purely aesthetic standpoint – I love action movies, I love post-apocalyptic stories, I love the cars, I love the way it was brought together in all its excess, its costumes and music and editing and sparse dialogue.
And I also loved it for its embrace of a woman action hero, it’s feminist messages in the refrain “who killed the world?” and in the story of women rescuing women, and for its side story of Nux’s transformation from a religious fanatic to a person who discovers the true meaning of devotion.
But the movie can not be hailed as a feminist masterpiece. As movies improve and representation for women becomes more common, our intersectional feminism for POC still suffers. (See Ghostbusters, another movie I loved but failed in this regard. ) Continue reading “It’s Wednesday!”→