Rachel Kaadzi Ghansah on how her profile of Dave Chappelle in The Believer came together:
…I think the West has this huge importance on saying, “I’m not in the story.” But you’re always in the story. It’s just that you’ve placed yourself in the center, as if it’s not subjective. And part of my subjectivity coming to it, as a woman and a black woman, is that you’re in the story as much as you’re not in the story, even when you’re not present. You can’t remove yourself from the center. There’s a sensibility, especially in journalism, for people to say, “I’m not in the story! It’s objective!” Well, that’s not true at all! You are the filter of the story. You are in it, whether you want to be or not. It’s good to know the vantage point of the writer. That’s why, in “Frank Sinatra Has A Cold,” Talese is in the story. He’s Italian-American. He related to this person in a different way. It’s why Hunter S. Thompson is in the Ali stuff. They’re both from Louisville. It’s awesome when he says we’re both from Louisville, but we probably never encountered each other. Because at the moment we grew up in Louisville, our worlds were splintered.
Dressing like a grown-up [trans woman]:
I really think looking for people with a style you’d like to emulate is a good first start. I happen to think Rachel Maddow is a particularly dapper masculine-of-center woman, but you have to find what works for you. You might be more comfortable looking at some of the more prominent trans women likeChristina Kahrl and Jennifer Finney Boylan, who are both generally quite well dressed. Whoever you decide to look at, take note of both their clothing (cut, color, length, material, etc), and their accessories (jewelry, handbags, belts, scarves, etc), as those all go into giving you a polished look. I’d also strongly advise finding a trusted friend and making time to go shopping, even if it’s just window-shopping. Try on lots of options in lots of different styles and find the colors, fabrics, and styles that you feel fantastic in. Being willing to try on something a little different has lead to so many accidental finds that turned out to be beloved clothing items for me.
Katie J.M. Baker is writing such great stuff for Buzzfeed:
Some of the most alarming data shows that referrals to the court system for status offenses have increased by 124% since 2002. Nearly half of those were referrals for truancy. Almost three-fourths of status offenders in formal cases have no record of prior offenses.
Roxane’s piece on the price of black ambition is fucking amazing:
My senior year, I received an acceptance letter to an Ivy League college. I was in the campus mailroom. Everyone was buzzing as they learned of their fate. I opened my letter and smiled. I had been accepted to all but one of the schools to which I applied. I allowed myself a quiet moment of celebration. A young white man next to me, the sort who played lacrosse, had not been accepted to his top choice, a school to which I had been accepted. He was instantly bitter. He sneered and muttered, “Affirmative action,” as he stalked away. I had worked hard and it didn’t matter. I was exceptional and it did not matter. In that moment, I was reminded of my place. I was reminded of why my ambition would never be sated, and would, instead, continue to grow ferociously. I hoped my ambition would grow so big I would be able to crowd out those who were unwilling to have me among them without realizing their acceptance should never have been my measure.
stun grenades, no-knock raids, and babies = shitstorm
I hope you got a chance to read that great piece B.N. Harrison wrote for us about churches and being homeless, bc it was great:
“Yeah, we used to leave the outside doors unlocked,” my youth pastor said distractedly. “But homeless people were sleeping in the vestibule, so they had to start locking them.”
I don’t remember what I said to him in reply. Probably just, “Oh.” But I do remember what I was thinking, because it was one of those uncomfortable thoughts that I ignored studiously until they built to a critical mass about a year later, when my faith in God and the church finally broke under their combined weight.
I was thinking: What’s wrong with letting the homeless sleep in a tiny, empty room that you’re not using for anything? Would Jesus lock the doors of a church so that homeless people couldn’t sleep inside it? Wouldn’t Jesus kind of…I don’t know, do exactly the opposite of that?
Thirteen years later—two summers ago—this exchange with my youth pastor resurfaced in my memory, when I myself became homeless and started searching for safe places to sleep at night.
*
Oh, man, I so rarely do this, but I also want to direct you to this actually really stupendous thing Whitney Burkhalter wrote for us yesterday because it made me cry, and I have never even WATCHED Supernatural.
