The Danielle Show

Just some thoughts and observations as I move through the world, always trying to listen and to learn--my testimony, if you will.

[danielleshow]

(via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OVaFGZYBr00)

[danielleshow]

Some quick love to Danielle, age 16.

This is a much longer conversation, but I need to start it now, because it’s creeping out of my fingertips and I can’t seem to concentrate on my assignments without getting this out first.

The show that I wrote about in my last post went up and closed this weekend. It was an incredible experience and I have so much love for my cast-mates and team that I had the privilege of working with.

In one of the pieces that I performed, I alluded to my experiences with sexual assault. I talked about nightmares that I have where I am “unable to save my friends, save myself, or fight back hard enough to keep from being raped”.

In a longer piece that I’ve been working on, I talk more about these experiences explicitly, and how they've impacted me as a person, and at different times made me feel stronger and weaker.

I felt like because I was alluding to these experiences and not even really referencing them, they would somehow remain secret. I’ve never talked to anyone in my family about any of these experiences.

And now, they’re calling me, worried about me, wondering about experiences, some of which happened almost six years ago.

So that’s something I’m going through now. And I’m trying to think back to my 16-year-old self and send her some love--she was too afraid to ask for it.

[danielleshow]

Audition Piece--Who am I & What does it Mean to Break the Silence

Tonight I had an audition for a workshop piece called "Open Lab: Identity & Belonging".

Here is the piece I wrote answering questions of "Who am I?" and "What does it mean to break the silence?"

I hope you like it! And wish me luck on getting cast!

I think many people consider me a loud woman. I consider myself a loud woman. I come from a whole family of loud women. I love loud women. But not everyone is comfortable with the audacity of loud women--when I was little I was silenced by being called ‘bossy’. Now I’ve graduated to being a full on ‘bitch’.

We silence people by shrouding them with disbelief. Rebecca Solnit compares in her essay “Cassandra and the Creeps” the story of the little boy who cried wolf, and the story of Cassandra, who refused to have sex with Apollo who then cursed her with never being believed.

I knew the story of the little boy, it taught me not to lie. I didn’t hear the story of Cassandra until I was much older, although by then I already knew how it went. Through experience, I’ve been thoroughly educated in what I’m meant to keep to myself, what no one wants to hear, what no one wants to believe.

When I’ve spoken of violence, I’ve been met with disbelief in a range of places from the title IX office on campus to the confines of relationships with people much closer to me.

Nothing burns like the chill of disbelief.

But I don’t blame them--testifying to the cruelty of others is breaking a silence that shatters like a mirror--and when people witness it, they tend to treat you like you’re about to experience seven years of bad luck.

But feeling the release of the shatter, and the warmth of belief, is how I’ve come to learn about another kind of silence: the silence of listening. And with my audacity I’ve grown to learn to listen to myself, and help cultivate unapologetic silence and space for others to break their silence.

I am a loud woman who is ready to listen and to learn.

[danielleshow]

A Lesson in Learning

The other day I was watching K & P. I'd biked a lot that particular day--to work, to campus, to their house. And somewhere along the line I got a hole in my tights from getting caught on my bike. K pointed out my hole to me, and when I told her that I got it from biking, she asked me why I was biking in tights. I told her that I liked wearing tights, and not much reason other than that. She told me that she once got a hole in her tights from biking, and this time I replied in somewhat of a sarcastic tone, "will we ever learn?" She instantly quipped back at me, "I learned".

It was funny how she didn't understand my sarcasm, who she couldn't fathom repeatedly making the same mistake, and how sassy she was in her retort. But the reason I haven't stopped musing about this interaction, is because of what she taught me, or maybe reminded me rather, but that we make mistakes, and that's fine, as long as we learn.

In my own humor I tend to self deprecate, in theater what we would call "playing low status". I do it because it makes people comfortable mostly. But I also recognize that it's a sort of behavior that is expected of women, similarly to being "nice". And when women don't live up to expectations of niceness, or willingness to please, we are instantly branded a bitch. Which both silences and dismisses us.

I've been thinking a lot about this premium on being nice lately. I think many people would use nice as a word to describe me. My mother puts an awfully high premium on being nice. From her perspective, I'm meant to always be nice to everyone--this came in handy when I was a pre-teen having birthday parties and could essentially invite as many people as I wanted, because my mom didn't want me to leave anyone out.

I sometimes worry about this niceness I have within me, and then end up worrying again that my tendency towards overcorrecting is causing me to be mean. I put myself in a horrible dichotomy between being sickeningly sweet and cruel. And while nice and mean do exist as intentional behaviors that are foils to one another, they are more than just these poles. There is a whole spectrum of genuineness where I do not have to be nice out of obligation, but caring and compassionate because I want to be, because I want to make someone else's life easier, because I want to be treated this way by others.

Over simplification is the source of many perils. We're in a complex time, where we need to be more willing to engage with complex narratives, to divulge in complicated conversations, and to embrace liminality and not betray ourselves with false dichotomies.

When I was home over the holidays, I was talking to my mom about her class. She told me that when she does PE with them, they sometimes play baseball, but refuses to keep score because she doesn't want there to be any losers. She wants to teach them that they can play without competition. They're there for sport and exercise, not to siphon them into identities of winners and losers.

I honor my mom for her efforts, but I told her that while I think that that is important, what is also important is that she teaches them that it's not a bad thing to be a "loser". We make mistakes, and we learn. We need to cultivate participation where the value is not solely extracted from the outcome. Because someone scored more points, than someone else may mean that they are better at that game, but that shouldn't translate into our self worth.

I have similarly complex feelings about telling people that they are pretty or beautiful. I think everyone deserves to feel content and confident about their bodies, but I also think that our bodies shouldn't be the source of our self worth. Everyone should feel beautiful if they want to, but emphasizing peoples' looks as a or the source of their value is also harmful.

These problems are not eradicated by simple solutions.

With Charlie Hebdo, people everywhere were saying and tagging "JeSuisCharlie". But Charlie Hebdo was and is a racist publication--but that doesn't mean that people who worked there deserved to be killed. And as we discuss this tragedy, we have to be weary of the over simplified narrative that this was an attack on free speech and the racist-Islamophobia that manifests from similar simplifications. We have the ability to discuss the many facets of this tragedy--to mourn the attack without glorifying racist literature or excusing racism and Islamophobia. To simplify it eliminates our capacity to grow and to learn. Bad things happened--let's learn.

Social change depends on people learning and growing. My friend said the other day that adults don't learn, they just keep repeating the same mistakes. And while we might be a little slower at learning than seven-year-old K is, and our brains might take a little longer to be rewired, as much of the learning we have to do is actually unlearning, I have hope that we can learn to learn and learn to change.

[danielleshow]

[danielleshow]

Where and When

I remember feeling a sort of synesthesia around space and time. December 7th, for example, feels like a place that I visit every year instead of a date that will undoubtedly return every 365 days. And with this came a sort of nostalgia, that I will never get another December 7, 2014 for instance--which my mother, for the record, finds ridiculous: "she's even sad about the seasons changing!"

This part of myself might be why I feel such an attraction to the theater. When a communal process builds a place that becomes a time where another place and time may be performed, and then can be performed again, changed, reconstructed, with different people of different histories and intentions.

In a way, theater is itself liminal, a construction occupying the intermediary of space and time.

In Global Poverty we talk about spatially distant neighbors and spatially proximate strangers. We ostracize the problems at home while romanticizing problems abroad. I think this same analysis can be put on time: where UC Berkeley is celebrating the 50th anniversary of the Free Speech Movement, but many headlines of protests from last night focus on police who were injured and windows broken instead of the solidarity and righteous anger of students and community members that was met with police violence.

The need for more space and time is ubiquitous, unlike the present which betrays us with its ephemeral state. I will never be able to prepare myself or reflect enough without entirely squandering each moment.

And as I sit in my room, I feel like I'm running from a cynicism of knowing "too much" and grasping for a sense of hope, of which I may be falsely convinced is fleeting. Because hope is a part of a continuum, and to dismiss it is to spurn the generosity through which it was built by community.

The fallacy that I will ever know too much is born out of arrogance. And while in Global Poverty we also discuss finding a space between the "hubris of benevolence" and the "paralysis of cynicism"—where we may no longer find good intentions to be enough, but are not too discouraged in the face of injustice and strife—I think I've come to learn that there is a fair amount of hubris in cynicism as well.

So in my efforts to stifle the lurking hubris and cynicism within myself, I need to lend myself the time and space that prevents escapism. Building community isn't easy, but being a part of a collective helps us take things in strides.

So in our search of getting to the here and now, I think we must remember that we are a part of a continuum. We are fighting for those from our past and future, those who are proximate and distant, and we are not alone.

[danielleshow]

Four Feminist Haikus from Work

1

Sleeping butterflies

Dreaming A restless slumber

Waiting for coffee.

2

Thoughtful Misandrist

Wistfully listening Men

Don’t reciprocate

3

Work in solitude

Empty lobby muffled lines

There’s no late seating

4

Nothing’s objective

Phenomenology wins

Deconstruct yourself

[danielleshow]

Yesterday I suddenly realized that this painting was done. I painted it while I was in New Orleans, but even though I hadn't been adding to it, I wasn't yet ready to call it finished. Yesterday, though, I suddenly felt content with its imperfections.

Also yesterday, I went to a talk by Luis Valdez on "The Power of Zero". Some ideas from the talk explicitly relating to the concept of zero, were that the Mayan zero is a spiral. Also this idea that a zero is what is at our core, and the way to power is by discovering the zero in our bodies: we can't have movements without movement. And this idea that as we move from negative situations to positive ones, we have to go through this zero. It's not starting from scratch, it's starting from a place that is whole, and inside of us.

Valdez said that "you can't just be an artist in a vacuum, you have to believe in something".

And that "Our lives spiral, we go both ways, but always passing through zero".

I'm not sure why I'm so drawn to spirals and tessellation, to succulents, but maybe it's a part of the explanation of zero, a whole place that I'm in search of. 

[danielleshow]

Hope for Art

Today Jacobin posted an article entitled “The Many Deaths of Klinghoffer” with the subtitle, “The controversial opera The Death Of Klinghoffer isn’t antisemitic. It’s anti-peace.”

I’ve actually read the article three times already, in search of some sort of answer I’m never going to find.

The opera in question The Death of Klinghoffer, which first opened in March 1991, recently went up in New York at the Metropolitan Opera. And as Benjamin Laude, the author of the article, frames it there are two opposing sides to the protests following the opera, coming from the conservative Zionist right and the mainstream liberal left. While the right cries anti-sematic at the opera, the left, which is arguably still very Zionist, argues for an “inalienable right to artistic freedom”.

In the piece Laude critiques the opera for not providing any solution to the “Israel-Palestine conflict”, and throwing hope overboard like the body of the title character. He also critiques art, and its inability to save “tens of thousands of anonymous Palestinians”.

From my own work and research, I know that theatrical representations of human rights violations are never met with praise: even the canonical The Investigation was met with harsh criticism in its original production, and is usually met with some sort of protest when it is performed today. As well, the “inalienable right to artistic freedom” Laude cites from the left is only fought for within examples such as this, where Palestinians are painted as terrorists, giving children guns to play with, and “frothing at the mouth with nihilistic vengeance”. Any narrative that threatens the state of Israel, which may even just be the slightest suggestion that Palestinians are people, is immediately silenced with cries of anti-Semitism. I’m in a search of how to move beyond that, and also subvert the conclusion that art does nothing but stand by the wayside to violence and oppression.

This past weekend, I went into a bathroom on campus and noticed Free Palestine and Zionist-related graffiti all over. There was so much on the particular wall I first saw, that I couldn’t even tell what came first. Since I was working in this building this past weekend, I had the chance to explore the bathroom and notice that it really is all over the place. One thing that struck out to me, was that on one part of the stall in a distinct red that was maybe made of lipstick, it said “Peace in the middle east”. Then, as I walked towards where the sinks are, I noticed on a mirror the same distinct red and it said “Stop Hamas”, clearly exhibiting that the initial cry for peace in the Middle East is coming from a Zionist perspective.

Peace is great, I can totally stand with peace and peace building. But what is going on with Israel and Palestine is not a conflict, it’s an occupation, and that’s violence. This violence won’t end by stopping Hamas; it will end by dissolving the apartheid structure of Israel.

One of my main problems with Laude’s piece, other than his discrediting of art, was how he repeatedly called it a conflict. I believe that discourse and the language that we choose to use is not only a representation of our beliefs, but an act that reinforces and reproduces them. Calling it what it is, is an act of justice. So you will never hear me say the Israel-Palestine conflict, but hopefully you will get to hear me talk about the occupation.

Last week I went to a talk by members of the Jenin Freedom Theatre, which is a theater company in Jenin refugee camp in Palestine’s occupied West Bank. In their own words, “Creative minds are one form of resistance to oppression”. So in their own right, their art and work in the theater is fostering creativity, their choice act of resistance.

“Art is not blameless. It can inflict harm” Laude explains this for the opera, which may teach audiences that there is nothing they can do to end the occupation. Similarly, Nabil Al-Raee, the artistic director of the freedom theatre, said that artists have a responsibility, because art is so powerful, to not use it for propaganda. We as artists must be honest and accountable to the questions we want to answer, and not let our art become the source of someone else’s oppression.

This past weekend at the Howard Zinn book fair I went to a talk, “Art, Occupation and Activism: From Gaza to Lebenon to Oakland CA”. What began with a conversation about how art can make histories that have been silenced more visible, and is a source of place making/reclaiming—an empowering act, quickly turned into, “does art even do anything?”. This questioned was answered with affirming explanations that art reflects social movements and political climate, making it more visible. While I also agree with this, I think that this alone doesn’t credit art with its holistic and recursive relationship to social change: that it’s a process that nourishes the creativity necessary to build social change.

It’s true that as Laude suggests, art could not save the Palestinians who have died as a result of the occupation. However, art is able to bear witness. Art is belittled with for a good reason, some things are so terrible that justice and reconciliation seem impossible. But I maintain the belief that that is all the more reason we need art. If we don’t know the solutions, we will never find them if we discipline our own creativity.

Believing in art is not idealistic, just as believing that people living under occupation have the right to resist in whatever way they deem necessary isn’t idealistic. I don’t think it’s accurate to call a belief in art overly hopeful. What I do believe, is that if we are to have hope, we need art.

[danielleshow]

Origins Story

Almost all of me wants to say that this post isn’t necessary. That it’s totally fine having a blog called “The Danielle Show” without any singular explanation to the name. But it also is an interesting story, so I thought I’d tell it.

First, you should know that I live in a 60-person co-op. We're vegetarian themed, but other than that there is nothing intentional about the entire situation. I was friends with a couple of different people before they moved into the house, but in general, every semester I start living with anywhere from 20-50 people I've never met. I don't want to get too much into this now...but I promise that there will be more on that in the future.

For now, the only other thing you need to know is that a year ago, I was also the "Social Coordinator", which is a fancy way of saying I planned parties.

The entire position gave me a lot of anxiety. People liked my parties, but I was always so nervous about what people would do, what problems would come up, and then when there are 60+ people, it's certain that it's impossible to please everyone.

At the end of the semester, we do "VOCs" or votes of confidence. The purpose of this is to decide if the compensated coordinators (like the ones who organize workshift or food ordering) are going to receive their whole comp, or if they don't deserve it.

Social coord is not a comped position, so it's generally a disaster to have it on there in the first place. 

Also, this whole process is anonymous. So it's like a hellish formspring flashback for anyone who was in high school in 2009.

Anyway, one person gave me a 1 on a scale of 1-5, so they gave me the worst rating. And they left the following comment on me:

“never had security at parties. wasn't organized; parties came together at the last minute because of other people winging it while she was getting drunk. often used social in a pretty narcissistic way, for example at special dinner was extremely overbearing. parties often felt like the "danielle show". was extremely defensive when criticized. unilaterally cancelled art party, m&s2”

This shook me.

I'm generally a sensitive person... but this brought it to a new level for me. I started feeling paranoid about which one of my 60 housemates could hate me so much that they would write this about me.

The VOCs came out the weekend before finals... so obviously one night before I had a morning final, I did not study and stayed up for hours doing a discourse analysis of the listserv trying to figure out who wrote it.

My research told me what I wanted it to... but that didn't really matter, my upsetness started to become obsolete. People that I was friends with in the house, who were obviously more mature than I was, were able to laugh about it. They told me that they love watching the Danielle Show, and that the Danielle Show is really fun.

It's all a little ridiculous... but we reclaimed the Danielle Show. And we often talked about the whole thing in front of the person everyone is certain wrote the comment. He was super fucked up, so us torturing him and slapping him in the face with his own comment was warranted.

As time went on, the Danielle Show grew.

In February, I produced, assistant directed, and acted in a show, Brecht Now, that we put on in the living room of my co-op. We turned the whole room into a theater, it was actually really amazing, but again, another story.

My house kept calling this the Danielle Show too.

And then for my birthday, my friend made a bumper sticker that he put on the door to our house, and it says "You're Watching the #danielleshow". You can see it on the banner of this blog.

Then this fall, when all of the new little elves moved into the house, some of them started asking me if I was Danielle from the Danielle Show. Hahaha.

Oh how far the Danielle Show has come.

[danielleshow]

Filters

Not last night but the night before as I was going to bed I heard someone ask in the room next to me if anyone had any extra filters.

My first thought was coffee or cigarettes?

After thinking for half a second more I remembered that I’m the only person I know who regularly brews coffee in their room, so it’s probably cigarette filters he’s looking for.

This minuscule moment that happened mostly in my head, made me start to wonder why all of my favorite things have filters. Obviously the answer is that I love poisonous things that are not only toxic but addicting. However I think that this notion of filtering extends beyond this literal physical sense in my life as well.

Everything that I don’t say, all of my thoughts that go unsaid, are undeniably filtered.

I think we often think of filtering ourselves as choosing not to use swear words, or profanity, or anything offensive. But I think when I filter myself it’s often the opposite, driven by intentions to avoid an argument or feelings of exhaustion from being labeled too radical, too feminist, too sensitive, too PC and being dismissed.

This brings up a whole other problem of why we need to ‘put on’ this language of being PC. Why do we allow fucked up and oppressive language to be our default?

As I sit in mostly-white spaces where discuss this and try to make ourselves less oppressive, I’m often disgruntled with the notion that we have to better ourselves because “we never know who we’re offending”.

I think that that idea inappropriately personalizes the consequences of inexcusable behavior. How about we just work on being less fucked up because it’s the right thing to do? Because our actions contribute to larger oppressive systems? And not just because we don’t want to hurt other peoples’ feelings.

This filtering takes place as we decide to call someone out or not. Black Girl Dangerous has a piece by Ngọc Loan Trần that helps us reframe this notion of calling people out by calling them IN instead. I’ve found that this sort of positive framework makes it a little bit easier to work past that unsustainable plaguing filter that prevents us from speaking up in certain spaces.

http://www.blackgirldangerous.org/2013/12/calling-less-disposable-way-holding-accountable/

I think I do need to take this one step further, though, and ask what constructs and maintains this filter. At the beginning of this year UC Berkeley’s Chancellor, Nicholas Dirks sent an email on Free Speech and Civilty where he wrote:

“We can only exercise our right to free speech insofar as we feel safe and respected in doing so, and this in turn requires that people treat each other with civility. Simply put, courteousness and respect in words and deeds are basic preconditions to any meaningful exchange of ideas. In this sense, free speech and civility are two sides of a single coin – the coin of open, democratic society.”

I think that we can observe that the take away message here is that we can only accept free speech so far that it doesn’t offend people in power.

This was exhibited further as UC Berkeley invited Bill Maher to come speak at the December commencement.

The institution where I’m receiving my ‘critical education’ has made it quite clear that free speech only matters when it comes from bigots.

Racist/sexist/islamophobic remarks are totally fine, as long as no one is bringing up human rights abuses in Palestine or anti-Zionism.

At UC Berkeley where we known for being so liberal we create extra space for more coservative perspectives, since they’re the minority. Well I’m pretty sure co-opting this language and making more space for fucked up white people is not only regressive, but racist and oppressive.

I want to end on a note that makes this seem like more than a rant, but an invitation to recognize that the filter we have from speaking up and calling people in also comes from oppression. I want to invite to as well as commend you for speaking up when you feel willing and able to speak against oppression. And I also want you to think about who you are and the space that you’re taking up as you do this: is that space rightfully yours? By talking more are you reproducing the oppression you righteously want to end?

And please recognize that I’m coming from a place of trying to improve myself and that while some of this may sound ‘negative’, it all comes from a place in me that is strongly rooted in an optimistic belief that we can change and we can become better.

[danielleshow]

My Life as the Daughter of a Teacher

My mom is a teacher. She's taught first through third grades, and for the past 30 years, she's been at the exact same school. At this point she has been there longer than anyone else. I went to that elementary school, my sister went to that school, probably at least a third of my life before age 12 was spent just on that campus.

I remember being nine-years-old and feeling like I would never escape being Laurie's daughter. My reputation preceded me: other students knew who I was, I was able to hang out in the staff room, and it was almost certain that whoever was going to be my teacher the next year I had seen at my house before for a party.

I remember going to middle school, and being enveloped with anonymity, which I loved and hated. Loved as I got to develop myself separately from my mom and hated when I was sent to the principal's office for violating the dress code or "starting a riot in class".

What I didn't realize then, or really even until a couple of years ago, is that I will not only always be my mother's daughter, but I will always be the daughter of a teacher.

I can critique charter schools and No Child Left Behind with the best of them, I will forever stand fighting to defend teachers in any discussion, and I profoundly believe that we can create a lot of societal change through education.

And I guess we can attribute this even more to the fact that almost every one in my family is a teacher, and my mom isn't just a teacher, but she's a public school teacher in Santa Cruz.

Anyway, that's who I am, and that's where my feelings about education stem from, which have only become more prominent and engrained in how I see the world.

This summer, I worked with Young Aspirations/Young Artists Inc. which is a teaching design studio in New Orleans. This was also my "Practice Experience" for the Global Poverty and Practice (GPP) minor at UC Berkeley. If you don't know anything about GPP, there is a core sequence of classes that everyone takes to prepare us for our different experiences and teach us how to be both accountable to the people we engage with and critical of the work we do.

In the methodology course of the sequence we wrote literature reviews surveying work done in both the area and sectors of where we would be working. So for mine I focused on New Orleans and Education/Arts Education.

Because of my background, I basically knew what I was going to say: No Child Left Behind ruined everything, art isn't taught in schools anymore, and it has been marginalized to the private/nonprofit sector.

What I didn't realize was what the school system was really going to be like in New Orleans. This fall, there were no more public schools left in New Orleans. Everything in the Recovery School District is either private or charter. Students have to apply to get into schools. Many wait forever on waitlists to get into school or have to take buses for hours to get to and from school. Schools that were failing before Hurricane Katrina were closed because they were failing, but standards have been lowered so while they look on paper like they are achieving more, many kids are falling through the cracks.

Meanwhile, teachers unions are being busted, and transplants are flooding in to participate in Teach For America and Teach NOLA. Teachers are not committed to the city or the students and clearly neither are the school districts.

New Orleans has become an experiment in ending public education.

The root of this post is me wanting to share my perspective on education, which I'm sure will come up again, as well as promote this excellent article posted yesterday on Jacobin, by a teacher that I feel like really gets it. So I recommend you read it and take some time to think about what you valued in your education. Because I know for me, the most influential most inspiring parts, have always been the teachers. So maybe it's time we look to structural problems, such as poverty and inequality, instead of blaming teachers and their choice of curriculum.

https://www.jacobinmag.com/2014/11/mystifying-poverty/

[danielleshow]

Teaching white kids how not to be racist when Disney tries to make that literally impossible

Like I've mentioned before, I regularly babysit two little girls.

They're incredibly smart and funny. Yesterday when I was showing K the Wicked soundtrack, she immediately knew that Fiyero was the scarecrow because he says, "Life's more painless. For the brainless..." in Dancing Through Life.

Anyway, their parents do a great job of teaching them equity and fairness, and teaching them to be themselves. For example, when K got a new bike a couple of years ago, P got to pick it out because it would eventually be hers. K gets the new bike, but P got to pick it out.

So they're good parents, and they have good girls.

But all of the shows that they watch are racist. Literally, either all of the characters are white or there are a select few characters of color embodying some sort of racial stereotype.

Obviously this is a greater problem about what shows are produced and who is supporting and creating them, the structural roots of the problem, if you will. However, that doesn't change the fact that we need some sort of bandaid solution to help kids. 

Yesterday we were watching musical scenes from Disney movies. We watched Colors of the Wind and Just Around the Riverbend. As I watched and heard lyrics that somehow I still know, I thought oh jesus, I have to say something to her about this. Pocahontas is literally calling herself a savage and saying she wants to run away with this white man and leave her family behind.

So I said to K, you know this isn't true, right? K said yes, but I think so much on the level that she knew that Pocahontas didn't have little animal friends running around with her. And then I told her, that Pocahontas was real, but the white people who came were not nice to them, and they didn't fall in love, it wasn't like that. K asked me why and I told her that they wanted the land. They didn't respect the people already there, they treated them like animals, and not in way that you should even treat animals. She seemed to understand a little bit.

Obviously I didn't do a great job, but there's a reason for that... so much of this is out of my control. What can I even do? I've read things about teaching white kids about racism, but the fact is that I'm not her parent, I don't have control over where she goes to school and who her friends are.

But I can have these sorts of conversations with her, and that's better than nothing. Because as long as her entertainment is only featuring white people with maybe a token person of color, she's going to be told that that's how the world is.

And this is not only a problem with Children's television and movies: so much of what is on prime time and big blockbusters feature exclusively white principle characters if not an all white cast. Our entire entertainment industry needs reform, and we can start by supporting TV shows and movies that do it right see: Shonda Rhimes esp How To Get Away With Murder.

However, I do think that children's entertainment deserves special attention. Which is why I was disappointed with how few articles I was able to find about how to talk to kids about Pocahontas or even just how to talk to white kids about racism.

One article I found and kind of liked is about an Irish woman who adopted children of color. She's not perfect, but I like the connection she makes between Frozen and Michael Brown and Ferguson. 

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/rachael-quinn-egan/an-open-letter-to-my-fellow-white-liberal-parents_b_5847154.html

[danielleshow]

K & P

I've been babysitting since a couple of years before I was old enough for it to be socially acceptable for parents to leave their children with me.

For the past two and a half years I've been watching two little Berkeley girls.

When I started watching them, I was instantly struck by how intelligent and conscientious they were. They were the quickest to remember my name, they understood the significance of my bracelet from my great grandmother, and they were just fun to hang out with. This is when they were three and two.

Now K and P are six and four respectively. This year they were a robot and super girl for Halloween.

Yesterday, when I watched them we talked about football. Their favorite team is the Saints, but they also like the Seahawks because they were born in Seattle. They do not like the 49ers. When the Saints and the Seahawks play each other, K always roots for a tie, but P says she doesn't care.

When I babysit, or when I'm around children in general, I try to be really conscious of the behavior that they're learning from me.

For example, with this football discussion: they have no idea that mainstream media is constantly depicting women as having no interest in or knowledge of sports. They have not yet been shamed away from football or feel the need to prove their unique worth with their vast knowledge of the subject.

Their gender performance is currently both vast and minute. They're young enough that for the most part, they are who they are, and as an adult in their lives, I want to help them sustain that.

[danielleshow]

B. Lee

What a beautiful country that we live in where anyone can call and verbally accost unpaid interns at any public office.

On any given Thursday or Friday afternoon, I'll receive calls at the Congresswoman's office ranging from outlandish accounts of racism and paranoia surrounding Ebola to modest yet misguided queries for support for veterans to overwhelming praise and declarations that "Barbara Lee speaks for me". 

If you're not familiar with Congresswoman Lee, I recommend you watch her on the Colbert Report: