From John Scalzi:

“The Poor Suffer the Most”

Used, for example, in this news header today in a story about food shortages: “As a brutal convergence of events hits an unprepared global market, and grain prices go sky high, the world’s poor suffer most.”

Really? The poor suffering the most? It’s hard to imagine. Because, you know, usually when there’s a major global crisis of any sort, it’s the poor sitting there on the sidelines, going whew, dodged that bullet. How strange that the people the least economically, socially and educationally able to deal with wrenching change should suffer the most. How odd that the rich should so often be able to shield themselves from the ravages of events. It’s almost as if they have some advantage over poor people, although off the top of my head what it might be escapes me.

Read more.

I’ve not posted for quite a while for a variety of reasons . . . I’ve lost my job, decided to go to law school, and generally been immersed in being very busy. What fun!

Now, part of what this means is that I missed the big WoC appropriation blow up completely. This is probably good, since I just don’t feel like I have anything useful to say that hasn’t been said better already by someone else. In the midst of all that, though, I was forwarded several wonderful blog posts written by African women, and I’ve finally got the time to write about them.

The first, and the topic of this post, is How to Beat Girls And Women by Mama Wangari of A Life Less Perfect. Everyone should read it in its entirety, of course, but it’s an autobiographical post about being beaten by her father when she was 16, how she avoided it, and the larger expectations and culture surrounding beatings.

“Please don’t beat me. I’m having my period,” and he turned abruptly away from me, dropping the belt to his side, and marched away to the end of the path to stand staring at the fence for a few dangerous moments. Then he turned and marched back to me and handed me the belt. My heart leapt.

“What you just mentioned to me,” his voice had gone low. “Never mention it to me again. Never. That’s between you and your mother. Go!”

It’s a great story, but the part that really makes it shine is her mother’s reaction, later:

A few days later I was walking home with my mum, down a steep rutted path, when out of a silence she suddenly asked, “Why did you ask Daddy not to beat you because of your period?”

“Pardon?”

“The other day, when you asked Daddy not to beat you because of your period. Did you think it would make you bleed more heavily or something? Why did you - ? What did you think would happen?”

I was puzzled. I decided to stick with pure fact.

“I wasn’t having my period,” I said.

“What? You weren’t?”

“No. I wasn’t,” I waited for her to burst out laughing and congratulate me.

“You mean you lied?” she was shocked.

“Of course!” so was I.

“But why?” she asked.

That really sort of sums it all up, doesn’t it? It’s not just that women and girls are expected to take their beatings, it’s that they’re expected to take them, and not object. The concept that she would object to being beaten is shocking and incomprehensible to her mother, because violence against women is a part of the natural order of things, like the weather. It’s just how things are.

Lying to avoid a beating is like lying to avoid a thunderstorm. It’s just not done. There’s no point. Why bother?

This, then, in a lot of ways, is one of the victories of feminism . . . the concept that, beyond women having the right not to be beaten, they, as human beings, have the right to object at all, to say, “this is wrong,” and, “no, I won’t just take it.” Abuse, institutionalized abuse, the culture of abuse, relies on maintaining the expectation that women will not say no and maintaining the expectation that objection to your own abuse is taboo.

It’s really an amazing post, and I encourage everyone to go read it.

For several days before Stumptown I was feeling nervousness and dread, and I was convinced that no one would buy “Hereville.” On the drive to Stumptown Saturday I felt so anxious about that, I worried I might vomit.

So things went better than I expected. :-)

I sold 65 copies of Hereville at Stumptown, which was enough to cover the costs of printing. In fact, between Stumptown sales and some other sales, the first printing of 100 copies is nearly sold out. (!) (But — I feel obligated to mention — you can still buy them here, if you want.)

Saturday night, Hereville won one of Stumptown’s treasured Trophy Awards, for “outstanding art.” (The winners are determined by a vote of Stumptown attendees.) That made me very happy. My friend Erika received three well-deserved awards for her excellent, funny, sweet, but adults-only strip Dar! The Trophy Awards are great, because the con organizers buy used trophies and relabel them. Mine is a female bowler with — get this — a cross on the pedestal! As you can see, it’s gone straight to my head mantle:

(On the Hereville webpage, which I don’t want to use for non-relevant political debates, I blurred out the Nader button. But I’m putting the unblurred pic here on “Alas” because I think it might amuse people.)

I also met some neat new people and saw some old friends, although less than I would have liked. (Onyxrising has a funny LJ entry about seeing me at Stumptown.) I didn’t get much of a chance to see the convention, because I spent almost all my time at my table pitching Hereville, but I really enjoyed it.

I also got to be a total mooch on my friends, who I relied upon for a lot of free labor. So thank you Jake Squid (ride to the con, day 1, plus setting up), Chris Baldwin (ride home), Kevin Moore (ride to the con, day 2), Jake Richmond, Katie Moody, & Ivy McCloud (sitting in for me when I was away), Charles Seaton (ride home, plus breaking down), and Kip Manley (more rides). (Can you tell I don’t have a driver’s license?)

And I have to shout out to the awesome Rachel Edidin, of the also awesome org Girl Wonder, because several people bought Hereville because she told them to! (She also told me she’ll be reviewing Hereville on her blog sometime soon.) Plus, there’s the knitting… but I think that will be a post of its own, when the time comes.

Finally, I have to sincerely thank the folks whose tables were next to mine — the McCloud family, Larry Marder, and especially Jen Sorenson — for restraining themselves from strangling me after hearing my Hereville pitch hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of times. (Jen and I were joking that when she went home, she’d bewilder her husband by mumbling “it’s about an 11 year old Orthodox Jewish girl” in her sleep.)

(And one more thank you — Photo of me by Jenn Manley Lee!)

Wheelchair Dancer wrote an excellent critique of the ableism in my last post on shades of grey in activism.

The whole thing is below, but you should also check it and her other works out on her blog, Wheelchair Dancer.

On Making Argument: Disability and Language.

We all use disablist or ableist metaphorical language, and I bet most of us say something that is potentially offensive every day: we might be blind to this, deaf to that, pass disabled vehicles, chat about being paralyzed in a situation, etc., etc. I’m often uncomfortable with it — I never use the moron or cretin words — but, honesty here, I do say idiot. I never say, “that’s lame;” I almost never say blind, deaf, paralyzed, cripple, but I occasionally I find myself saying, “that’s dumb,” with full negative rhetorical force. Most of the time, if I slip up the non-disableds I’m with don’t notice; however, the disableds get it, call me on it, and we talk.

If you are feeling a little bit of resistance, here, I’d ask you to think about it. If perhaps what I am saying feels like a burden — too much to take on? a restriction on your carefree speech? — perhaps that feeling can also serve as an indicator of how pervasive and thus important the issue is. As a community, we’ve accepted that commonly used words can be slurs, and as a rule, we avoid them, hopefully in the name of principle, but sometimes only in the name of civility. Do you go around using derivatives of the b*ch word? If you do, I bet you check which community you are in…. Same thing for the N word. These days, depending on your age, you might say something is retarded or spastic, but you probably never say that it’s gay.

I’d like to suggest that society as a whole has not paid the same kind of attention to disabled people’s concerns about language. By not paying attention to the literal value, the very real substantive, physical, psychological, sensory, and emotional experiences that come with these linguistic moves, we have created a negative rhetorical climate. In this world, it is too easy for feminists and people of colour to base their claims on argumentative strategies that depend, as their signature moves, on marginalizing the experience of disabled people and on disparaging their appearance and bodies.

Much of the blogosphere discourse of the previous weeks has studied the relationships between race, (white) feminism and feminists, and WOC bloggers. To me, the intellectual takeaway has been an emerging understanding of how, in conversation, notions of appropriation, citation, ironization, and metaphorization can be deployed as strategies of legitimation and exclusion. And, as a result, I question how “oppressed, minoritized” groups differentiate themselves from other groups in order to seek justice and claim authority. Must we always define ourselves in opposition and distance to a minoritized and oppressed group that can be perceived as even more unsavory than the one from which one currently speaks?

As I watched the discussion about who among the feminist and WOC bloggers has power and authority and how that is achieved, I began to recognise a new power dynamic both on the internet and in the world at large. Feminism takes on misogyny. The WOC have been engaging feminism. But from my point of view, a wide variety of powerful feminist and anti-racist discourse is predicated on negative disability stereotyping. There’s a kind of hierarchy here: the lack of awareness about disability, disability culture and identity, and our civil rights movement has resulted in a kind of domino effect where disability images are the metaphor of last resort: the bottom, the worst. Disability language has about it a kind of untouchable quality — as if the horror and weakness of a disabled body were the one true, reliable thing, a touchstone to which we can turn when we know we can’t use misogynistic or racist language. When we engage in these kinds of argumentative strategies, we exclude a whole population of people whose histories are intricately bound up with ours. When we deploy these kinds of strategies to underscore the value of our own existence in the world, we reaffirm and strengthen the systems of oppression that motivated us to speak out in the first place.

Some background and ground rules. Though I am using Mandolin’s post in detail, I will be referring to her throughout as “the writer.” This is because I am not interested in making an anti-Mandolin conversation. I wish to begin a conversation about disability, language, authority, and power. Mandolin’s post just got me started.

Organizational strategy. That was the theory and conclusions. In the rest of the post are some explanations of how I got there. I’d like to go about this two ways: first talk about details of the post and then talk about implications.

Part 1: Details

But more on the systemic level. We cut off our own feet. If we can’t acknowledge we’re all trapped in racist and sexist systems, systems which compromise our most purely intended actions, systems that prescribe our choices and make us choose between lesser evils… what can we fight?

We commonly talk about us “handicapping” ourselves in a given situation. Here, the writer takes a more literal approach: we become double BKAs (below the knee amputees). This, in itself, might be a small oversight, except that the image of the amputation as a self-inflicted injury is troubling. It is even disturbing because it reaffirms the idea that disabled people are trapped, paralyzed (by their own doing or perhaps not) and helpless — in this case before the forces of evil oppressive systems.

Yes, I know, images and language like this are so routine that they are almost invisible. But that doesn’t make it acceptable. Language and its ideas still have effects. In this case, they are part of a system of images that the writer has begun to use whenever she needs to talk about a powerless situation in the identity and cultural politics wars. The image is not hers to begin with, but she takes it on and takes it over in a title and in the post that follows that title. And then, the same image shows up in, here, in the Grey Activism thread. It’s almost as if amputation of the legs is this writer’s way of indicating the victimization of a well-intentioned person who then becomes helpless either in the face of critical discourse or in the face of discourse systems that have power to wreak havoc on an innocent speaker.

The second detail is an example of how, once it becomes acceptable to take small images in brief words and phrase, it becomes possible to make huge paragraphs:

There’s a personality disorder called Borderline Personality Disorder in which sufferers have a great deal of difficulty understanding ambiguity. They tend to view themselves and others as either entirely good or entirely bad, a switch that will flip with great regularity. On a good day, they are all good. On a bad one, they are the worst person who ever lived. If you give them something they like, you’re an angel; if you speak a harsh word, you’re an evil person conspiring against them.

I tend to drive some of our legalistic commenters here crazy…

This is an awfully generalized description of Borderline Personality Disorder. Short on factual information, it relies on the safety of the You and Them dichotomy: You and those awful Them. And it highlights Their irrationality, Their craziness, Their suffering. The suffering thing is a key point. To use such language is to imply that people are prone to their diagnosis, stripped, in some ways of their personhood — to the point that they can become THEM, a safely otherable pile of flesh. The disability civil rights movement has worked years to educate people on language like this. We don’t “suffer” with our disabilities; we are not our medical diagnoses. To reduce us to our diagnoses is to suggest that there is a fundamental binary of human existence: able-bodied and not. And those who are not, suffer. And it offers an understanding of disability that is wholly medical and awful. There is no natural physical variation, no understanding of how environment and culture contribute to the understanding of disability; there is only the awfulness of BPD. BTW: there’s a tremendous amount of dispute in disability communities about how diagnoses like this are formed. It’s not like irrationality is objective. It’s not like, medically speaking, you do these things and BOOM! BPD.

Essentially, this is a coercive argument by analogy that is successful because of the awful image of BPD it uses. It kind of runs like this. BPD is bad. People who have it aren’t like you and me — they’re irrational. Crazy. And when we do these kinds of things — “trying to define THAT person as evil for THIS compromised act and making that declaration of good or evil a single, solid, reified thing” — we are exhibiting the behaviours of someone with BPD. So, don’t do them. You wouldn’t want to be seen as having BPD, now, would you?

And what to make of the writer’s very next sentence where she declares that she drives people crazy? If you don’t acknowledge the power of the words you wield, the border line between the real and the figurative is very porous.

OK. Enough. I’ve spent so much time on the literal value of the metaphorical details and figurative language because I think not recognizing the literalness of all of this is critical to the next move.

Part 2: Implications

The most important things to me here are one: the fact that one of the people posited throughout the post — the poor liberal who in trying to do good and be complex makes a couple of mistakes — ends up helpless before the dysfunctionality of the politics of the system. And two: the fact that, by the end of the post that person is represented as a double BKA with BPD: a double below the knee amputee with borderline personality disorder. A wacky, helpless, and perhaps dangerously irrational, disabled person. The details may seem small when looked at individually, but that final image is extraordinarily undermining of the disability civil rights movement and of modern progressive understandings of disabled people’s place in society.

Relying on the figurative value of disability metaphors tends to render disabled people invisible; it cuts us out of the conversation. And we are a part of those communities — a necessary part. Disability IS a feminist issue and vice versa (think choice, think end of life, think pre-natal testing, think any part of body autonomy). The constructions and experiences of disability in a divergence of racial and ethnic communities are important to us — for the disability civil rights movement is mainly white. We who are feminist, of colour, and of disability are critical to the conversation, but, to quote Vicki Lewis, we disabled folk are not your metaphor.

And we do experience the exclusion from the conversation in many of the same ways discussed over and over again in the past weeks. Personally, I get tired of trying to bring the disability angle to the table — others I know do, too. As a movement, in our daily lives, and even as a scholarly field in the hallowed halls of academia, disability and disabled people have yet to be recognized as full participants in the conversations about intersecting identities, power, the body, etc. etc.

In the disability movement, we often talk about interdependence and the way all humans are dependent, in some ways, on each other. We use these terms as a way of countering the very material point that disabled people are dependent, non contributing burdens on society, and we use it to challenge the narratives of able-bodied American self-sufficiency. I can’t speak for a very diverse movement, but, to me, one of the signature disability moves is to look for a collaboration that acknowledges the interdependence of all peoples while respecting and valuing their differences. There is no logical need for one of us to leverage off the other: collaboration not competition floats more boats on a rising tide.

So, the next time you need to make an argument about the value of your particular minoritized group, its place in society and culture, its history, etc., I’d ask you to look down and check whose broken back (metaphorically speaking, of course) you are standing on.

Some of my response to the email where she was kind enough to send me this is below the fold.
Read the rest of this entry »

I feel like liberals are always trying to make conservatives understand that the world and the actions in it are not black and white. If one has done something racist, that doesn’t make them a bad person, it makes them a normal person. We all do bad things. We all do sexist things. That’s not what’s at issue.

White people struggle against the charge of racism because they feel it switches the on-and-off in them, from “good” to “bad.” Since self cannot be perceived as bad, we shout, “No! No! It must not be true! I’m a good person, so I have not been racist!” When, of course, we should be able to look and say, “Oh, I fucked up. I will change. I will fix this.”

There’s a personality disorder called Borderline Personality Disorder in which sufferers have a great deal of difficulty understanding ambiguity. They tend to view themselves and others as either entirely good or entirely bad, a switch that will flip with great regularity. On a good day, they are all good. On a bad one, they are the worst person who ever lived. If you give them something they like, you’re an angel; if you speak a harsh word, you’re an evil person conspiring against them.

I tend to drive some of our legalistic commenters here crazy (sorry, Sailorman) because I don’t believe the world has boundaries that can be clearly described between good and bad. We all, along with our every action, inhabit ambiguity. Every good thing we do has bad unintended consequences. Every bad thing we do has good unintended consequences. We’re all shaded. We’re all compromised. No one’s clean or pure. No one’s evil or tarnished beyond recognition.

This is not a profound thought, expressed in the abstract, and yet I see it abandoned with great regularity when we move into concrete examples. I’ve seen it over and over and over again, and I find it so frustrating in liberal circles. We should know better. I wish we did. But we’re so ready for conflict, to make sharp decisions, to slice things and people into black and white until, as Ampersand says, we construct people “as only their worst moments.”

There’s this drive toward perfectionism in the activist soul, toward making perfect the enemy of good.

It’s so, amazingly damaging. On the personal level, yes — I could talk about bloggers who I can’t stand to read, but who I nevertheless respect, but I don’t really want to bring individuals into it.

But more on the systemic level. We cut off our own feet. If we can’t acknowledge we’re all trapped in racist and sexist systems, systems which compromise our most purely intended actions, systems that prescribe our choices and make us choose between lesser evils… what can we fight? What’s the point? How are we different than ascetics with whips to use on ourselves and others for the greater good of purgation?

We can’t purge our souls.

When it comes to racism, we understand that it’s not the intent that matters, it’s the effect. It’s not apportioning blame that’s relevant, it’s creating solutions. So why are we stuck in circles, trying to define THAT person as evil for THIS compromised act and making that declaration of good or evil a single, solid, reified thing? Why do we, as a collective, exhibit some features of Borderline Personality Disorder?

I don’t think the human brain is set up very well to perceive shades of grey, which is too bad, because concepts with borders around them like black and white are only our own constructions for understanding the world, and they are badly insufficient tools.

–

Given the context of recent blogosphere battles, I want to say that I realize some may read this post as being about Amanda and/or Amanda’s critics. It isn’t intended to be. I understand that there’s a great deal of history there which involves more than black and white decision making. This post was written in reaction to a different conversation.

I also don’t mean to say there should be no critique of anyone. Critique is important — it’s vital that it be passionate and vehement and present, for otherwise nothing would change. I mean only to question a particular kind of critique, that variety of righteous condemnation which seems to be about making sense of the world by casting it with angels and devils instead of struggling players.

Feminist, anti-racist comments only. (If I bold this and put it at the end, will people pay attention? –post-mod queue Mandolin.)

Michael Bérubé at Crooked Timber has a good and fairly long post comparing the disability policies of Clinton, Obama and McCain. Kathy at The G Spot nutshells for us:

– Hillary Clinton’s disability policy? Very, very good.

– Barack Obama’s disability policy? Even better!

– John McCain’s disability policy? Complete and utter craptastic-ness.

Both Michael’s and Kathy’s posts are excellent and well worth reading in full.

I did wonder if some disability activists wouldn’t look at the candidates in terms of “right to die” laws and find McCain to be better on that issue than the two Democrats. (Although I don’t know if any of the three have specifically spoken about that issue.)

A bit from Michael’s post:

And I have to admit that I’ve been mightily vexed by […] the phenomenon of the avoidance of disability qua disability. It’s as if we Americans have been talking about disability all our lives, as Molière’s M. Jourdain has been speaking in prose, without realizing it. Remember that debate about SCHIP? You know, the one we lost on Bush’s veto? What the hell was that about? It was about disability, folks – about children suffering catastrophic illnesses and traumatic injuries for which their parents couldn’t (and their parents’ dastardly, moustache-twirling health-insurance providers wouldn’t) provide. Vets returning from Iraq with PTSD or TBI (post-traumatic stress disorder or traumatic brain injury) and being warehoused and/or underserved and/or neglected by VA hospitals? Uh, well, once again, here we’re talking about disability. Why in the world do we frame these things as matters of “health” or “employment” or “veterans’ benefits,” when doing so prevents us from realizing that we’re all touching different appendages of the 8000-pound elephant in the room? The subject is disability, people. It’s about our common frailty and vulnerability. Get used to it.

Time for a follow-up. When is criticism like “wilding?” Never. Never. NEVER.

Unless, of course, you’re a racist trying to defend friends from people of color.

It is possible to describe criticism coming from people of color in a way that doesn’t equate words with violence. The criticism is fervent; it’s angry; it’s passionate; it’s vehement. If one disgarees with it, one could call it overblown, exaggerated, vicious, cruel, unreasonable, stupid, ridiculous, douchebaggy, mean-spirited, made in bad faith, irrational.

Who is the primary target of historical and present racialized violence? People of color. Black men lynched; black women raped; Chinese men slaughtered; Native American’s scalps collected and turned into the government for cash; Native American women systemically sterilized against their wills until 1975 so that 1/3 of child-bearing aged Native American women had undergone a (usually involuntary) hysterectomy; Chinese women imported for prostitution; Japanese people caged ni internment camps; Indigenous peoples all over the globe shoved aside to make room for colonial conquest; and so, so much more.

Amanda and Seal Press are being critized. Their lives are not in danger. Their physical integrity is not in danger. They are not being dragged through the town square. They are not being “handed a rope.” They are not being lynched, wilded, or raped.

This language suggests actual physical threats that are historically and presently used against people of color in general, and particularly people of color who stand up against racism. It uses that language to suggest that citicism from people of color is equivalent to these actions. Black men are slaughtered by policemen who fire into a car full of unarmed men and white women are criticized with harsh, unflinching language.

These are not equivalent.

And even if you think it’s clear as crystal that Amanda and Seal Press are being unfairly and hyperbolically impugned, it should be really easy to see why.

See also my original post about hyperbolic language being used to describe criticism coming from people with less privilege than one has.

(Feminist, anti-racist commenters only.)

On Pandagon, Amanda writes:

I’m sorry. Plain and simple. I didn’t pick the offensive imagery in my book, but I should have caught it sooner than now. I didn’t and there’s no excuse. It was my first book, I was excited and happy, but I needed to have a more critical eye. I would do anything to remove racist images from the first printing of the book if I could, and I am relieved and happy to say that they will be removed from future printings.

Since the book is currently in its second printing, Seal Press is already removing the offensive images. They write:

Please know that neither the cover, nor the interior images, were meant to make any serious statement. We were hoping for a campy, retro package to complement the author’s humor. That is all. We were not thinking.

As an organization, we need to look seriously at the effects of white privilege. We will be looking for anti-racist trainings offered here in the Bay Area. We want to incorporate race analysis into our work.

Although the apology from Seal Press is not 100% satisfying in it’s wording, I congratulate them for understanding (with prompting) that these images, combined with their extremely problematic response to women of color discussing their publishing diversity, indicate a problem with them not their critics. I wish them the best of luck in addressing it.

Seal Press, if I were you, I would go straight to the Angry Black Woman or Nojojojo, both of whom I can personally attest are excellent writers (and ABW an experienced editor), and ask if either would be willing to edit a collection of articles for you on any subject she desires, even if it’s the lack of diversity in the publishing industry with an article about Seal Press in it. I don’t know if either of them would have time or inclination to take you up on it — they’re legitimately pissed at you — but if they did, you would end up with a clearly excellent collection of articles. That would just be my first step.

Alternately, if someone could help you find BFP, and if she had time and inclination, I’m certain her writings could be compiled into an excellent text.

Oh, and drop everything and go read this post from Angry Black Woman on how to promote diversity in fiction markets. It’s not 100% salient to non-fiction publishing, but it’s close enough.

I am very pleased that the book will soon be available without this offensive imagery. I’ve only excerpted from these apologies; I suggest you read further yourself.

I imagine many people will be wondering why Amanda apologized about this issue, while staying silent on her own blog about appropriation. Only Amanda can answer that, though I suspect the answer has something to do with her feeling she did something wrong here and not in the other instance. To the extent that my desires are relevant (i.e. about 0%), I’d urge Amanda to address the appropriation issue on her blog. Even if she doesn’t feel she appropriated, she could easily mention the controversy, apologize for whatever portion of it she feels rests on her shoulders (and surely she can agree that appropriation is a systemic issue, and one she and many other white people have participated in without intention or conscious knowledge, if not in this instance specifically, then surely in others) and compile a set of links to salient works by women of color. Even if those links don’t feel like direct sources to her, they would certainly be excellent reading for her audience, and what is there to lose? More sets of eyes on excellent, progressive writing by women of color? Oh, please don’t throw me in that briar patch.

UPDATESeal Press has updated their apology with the following:

Please note that, upon reflection, we realize that the second to the last paragraph of this post doesn’t do a good job of conveying our intended meaning. We do not want to delete it, but we do want to make a note around our intent, since its purpose was to further articulate the “what were they thinking?” question. We apologize that this paragraph undermines our apology. We acknowledge that the images are racist and not okay under any circumstances. We are wholeheartedly sincere in our apology, and the actions we’ve laid out above will be acted upon immediately.

(Feminist, anti-racist comments only please.)

Just a reminder that I’ll be at Stumptown this weekend… if you’re there, please come by and say hi. I’ll be the guy sitting under the big “Hereville” banner.

Heart would like the world to know that there really are no problems with the racist illustrations in It’s a Jungle Out There because those illustrations happen to have been called out on this blog:

On the day that Ampersand, of Alas a Blog, gets taken to task for — every single blessed day – benefitting from the sale of blatantly racist, misogynist pornography on his website, advertised not just by way of text but with pornographic imagery, photographs, maybe on that day I’ll take all of this outrage against Amanda, by people who suck up to Ampersand (and others who share Amp’s views) every single day, posting or commenting to his blog like they have some shred of sense, decency, or concern for female persons, seriously.

…On the day that Maia recognizes the seriousness of the presence of misogynist, racist pornographic images and text on Alas – where she regularly blogs – I’ll take her concerns about Seal Press and Amanda’s book seriously. When any of the crowd currently excoriating Amanda Marcotte begins to take racist, misogynist male pornographers and their apologists to task, I’ll view them as possibly having some shred of credibility, a leg to stand on, in criticizing Amanda Marcotte.

Apart from the fact that it’s obviously fallacious to assume that because someone disagrees with her — or is even provably wrong — on one subject, that will automatically taint their perspective on any other subject, I find this a pretty facile way of ignoring the problems that other feminists have raised outside Alas, many of them predating our postings.

It should be noted that I’m the only one calling Heart hypocritical and full of shit. Barry, for some reason unfathomable to me, actually has a great deal more respect for her than I do. So, if you’re offended, be offended at me, not him or Maia.

(Shocker: Feminists, anti-racist comments only. Probably best to assume any further posts I make to this site are such.)

UPDATE: Amanda has publicly apologized:

I didn’t pick the offensive imagery in my book, but I should have caught it sooner than now. I didn’t and there’s no excuse. It was my first book, I was excited and happy, but I needed to have a more critical eye. I would do anything to remove racist images from the first printing of the book if I could, and I am relieved and happy to say that they will be removed from future printings.

Seal Press has apologized, as well.

I don’t mean to say “well, that’s over with; no need to worry about this anymore!,” when I say that I’m relieved and happy that Seal and Amanda have taken this step.

Original post follows.

* * *

The above is one of the illustrations from Amanda’s new book. Sylvia, in the comments of Feministe, suggested writing Seal Press about it.

Dear Seal Press,

I’ve been a fan of Amanda Marcotte’s writing for years — since before she was on Pandagon. I think of Amanda as a friend. I’ve been looking forward to her book for many months. I regularly buy and read nonfiction books, including feminist books, and recommend them to my friends.

But I simply can’t buy a book that blithely uses blatantly racist illustrations. I can’t. Nor can I recommend to anyone else that they buy it.

It’s not funny. It’s not hip. It’s just racist.

Please, stop it.

Sincerely,

Barry Deutsch

This was a painful post for me to write; I am mindful of the fact that at a time when huge portions of the feminist blogosphere were writing me off, Amanda did not. That means a lot to me.¹ I don’t want to hurt Amanda, and I genuinely want her to have a great career.

But there are more important issues at stake here.

Curtsy: Dear White Feminists, who has more commentary and more illustrations; Maia’s post, and Mandolin in Maia’s comments.

UPDATE: Read Holly’s post, as well. Here’s some of what she suggests Seal Press needs to address:

So I would like to call on Amanda Marcotte and Seal Press to do the following — while also keeping in mind that nobody should be making assumptions about exactly who was responsible for what, saw what parts of this book while it was in progress:

1. Please explain what process led to the selection of these images for this book, and what the intentions of those involved in decision-making were.

2. Please tell us whether you think it’s appropriate for a book about feminism, which the author describes as not really covering race issues, to include depictions of white heroines beating up stereotypical violent, spearchucking dark-skinned people, who apparently represent the “politically inhospitable environment.”

3. Please tell us what steps, if any, you hope to take to address the criticisms that have been raised.

NOTE REGARDING COMMENTS: Feminists or WOC (or both) and allies are welcome to comment. No comments from right-wingers, please.

1. It may be relevant to mention that BFP also didn’t write me off, and that means a lot to me, too. (back)

Triangle-Head is a character who shows up again and again in my doodles, and I’ve occasionally done cartoons about her, such as this 24-hour comic, which I see I drew an entire decade ago. Yipes! (That comic probably isn’t appropriate for all ages, by the way.)

About that dog, I’ve never been good at drawing that moving-back-and-forth-quickly effect — there’s been a bunch of times I’ve drawn it into my comics, only to redraw the panel without it because I didn’t like how it turned out.

1. I want to express my (very late) solidarity with Blackamazon, Adele and all the other women of colour who were ignored and dismissed by Seal Press. I want to express my support for the girlcott of Seal press. While there’s not a lot I can do personally, since I would neither buy books from Seal Press (can’t afford them) or write for Seal press anyway. But the whole point of solidarity is answering the question ‘which side are you on?’ I think women of colour activists are more important than a feminist publishing house. I know that my liberation is impossible while women of colour are enslaved, and that means that I have to make it clear that I stand with them against racism from feminist institutions.

2. I want to express my (equally late) solidarity with brownfemipower who will be missed. It is disgusting the way her names and intentions have been dragged and lied about across the blogsphere by people attempting to defend Amanda. Brownfemipower is amazing.

[There used to be bits of my opinion on appropriation in here, but I moved them to this thread. If you want good discussion on appropriation go there, or Holly , Daisy and Sylvia/M.

3. Finally, and less belatedly on my part, Amanda’s book itself. These images are racist.¹ They come from Amanda Marcotte’s book “It’s a jungle out there” that was published by Seal Press. I don’t just want to say ‘these pictures are racist and racism is bad’, but to talk about the harm that these sorts of images cause, because the racist ideas that they maintain are very specific. They are presenting indigenous people as a dangerous other. They are presented as things that must be conquered so that white people can live freely on their land. The idea represented in these images are one of the many ways colonialism is maintained and justified.

I live in a country where land has been stolen from indigenous people in the last five years. Amanda Marcotte lives, and Seal Press operates, in a country where the history of stealing land from indigenous people stretches back five centuries. We all live in a world where the distribution of wealth was established, and justified, by colonialism. The white woman, and man, in those pictures were stealing land and resources - everything Africa had that they could use (a century earlier, of course, they would have also been stealing people).

I’ve been writing this post for a week. Writing other posts about these issues for several weeks and not finishing them. I’m posting it now, rather than trying to make it better, because silent solidarity isn’t much good to anyone.

There have been a number of racist dynamics developing in various comment threads. Amanda, and her defenders, only talking to white people and ignoring people of colour. Re-centring the issue on Amanda by focusing on a very small section of comments and demanding that they be addressed first. These behaviours will not be welcome in this comment thread.

I am not interested in the pontifications of outsiders on this. So specifically Robert, RonF and Sailorman are not welcome, nor are anyone of their ilk.

1. note for Hugo Schwyzer the problem is not that they could be interpreted as racist. It is that they are racist (back)

The latest Disability Blog Carnival is now up at Abnormal Diversity where the theme is Abuse. I submitted a post on something that happened to me about two years ago, and there’s much more to read on the topic. Check it out.

The next Disability Blog Carnival will be on May 8 at CripChick’s. The theme will be Disability Identity and Culture. From CripChick:

Here are some topic ideas!:
• What is disability identity? If you are disabled, do you feel disability is a part of you and your experience?
• What is disability culture to you? How do you put it out there or live it every day?
• Does disability intersect with your other identities (i.e. queer person, person of color, person of faith, etc.)?
• Is pride, community, or the Disability Rights Movement important to you? Why or why not?
• How do you feel about the word disabled? Is it a political term with power to you or do you despise it?
• Do you see disability outside of a rights framework (i.e. is disability something that is more than advocacy to you?)
• If you identify with the autistic acceptance movement, the deaf community, or other groups, how do you feel about disability? Many people do not want to associate with the disability community— how do you feel about this?
• Have you felt alienated [left out] from the disability community because of racism, exclusion because of your disability, the media or other factors? How has this affected your identity as a disabled person?

And some topic ideas for allies:
• Why is disability important to your work or politics?
• How do you feel about the Disability Rights Movement and what would you say to activists who downplay this movement or even disability as an important social justice issue?
• How do you see disability intersecting with feminism, reproductive justice [movement that focuses on ALL people having ALL control of their bodies], and other movements that work to end oppression?
• What do you see in your role as an ally?

CripChick also provides a list of resources for anyone wanting to bone up on the topic before participating. Deadline for submissions is May 4. The carnival submission form is available here, or leave a comment with your submission’s link at CripChick’s, or email her with the info at consciouslycrip [at] gmail [dot] com.

Other recent Disability Blog Carnivals have been at Reimer Reason on the theme of The Hardest Part, Andrea’s Buzzing About on Breaking Out, Wheelie Catholic on Appreciating Allies, and Sunny Dreamer on Standing Outside the Fire.

Image description: The icon above, provided by CripChick for the upcoming carnival at her place is a color image of a self-portrait by Frida Kahlo with the words “DISABILITY BLOG CARNIVAL” in bold black type across the painting. The image is a close-up of Frida in her wheelchair from the 1951 painting “Self-Portrait with Portrait of Dr. Farill.” described in detail in both English and Spanish here.

Cross-posted at The Gimp Parade