‘Girls’, American Television and White Feminism

It’s been hard to escape talk of writer/actress Lena Dunham and her television show Girls, which recently aired its season two finale. In mainstream media, Girls is lauded as ‘the show of a generation‘, a program that women everywhere can relate to.

While subject to much praise for its daring and honest portrayals of twenty-something life in New York City, some critics continue to discredit the show due to its lack of representation for non-white characters.

Unfortunately, non-white representation in television shows set in one of the most ethnically diverse cities in the world is rare and Girls is not the only program to lay the blame to. Friends, for example, rarely had people of colour in roles other than minor, background characters for its entire ten-season run. A more recent example is How I Met Your Mother, another show based around a group of white characters, where interaction with, or storylines with, non-white characters is noticeably absent.

What’s worse in this situation is that a) Girls is portrayed as a television show about our generation’s young women and b) that the show’s creators and supporters have an incredibly flippant attitude towards representation of people of colour (poc) in television. By presenting Girls as a television show about women, a show which includes zero women of colour (woc), and with white feminists arguing for more representation of women in television, while simultaneously stating they do not care about woc on television, white feminism and mainstream culture is saying: women of colour are not ‘women’.

Acclaimed feminist Caitlin Moran voiced her support for Dunham and ‘Girls’ and came under much scrutiny after tweeting that she didn’t care about the show’s lack of diversity.

Lesley Arfin (now ex-writer for Girls) responded to criticism by writing ‘What really bothered me moth [sic] about Precious was that there was no representation of ME.’ She then wrote, ‘Without thinking, I put gender politics above race and class’ in  response to backlash from her previous comment. Quite simply, Arfin separated gender and race issues, therefore dismissing black women’s politics by implying that they are not a part of ‘gender politics’. Again woc do not count as women.

The lack of intersectionality in mainstream white-feminism is depressing and stubborn. Too many feminists do not see ethnic-minority women’s issues as women’s issues and exclude race, and woc voices, from mainstream discourse.

Dunham herself insisted that it was a complete accident that the cast of her show is completely white, and has slipped up many times by engaging in ‘hipster racism‘. She claims she does not know how to write women of colour, as though woc characters are two-dimensional beings whose entire lives revolve around their race and do not have the experiences and lifestyles that the characters on her show do. However, what was most upsetting was Dunham again implying that women of colour are not women.

In her Golden Globe acceptance speech in January of this year, Lena said she was accepting her award ‘for any woman that’s felt like there wasn’t a space for her’. Keeping in mind the large amount of criticism Dunham has received and responded to regarding a lack of woc on her show, that statement was an insult to many women of colour. Women of colour consistently raise their disappointment and anger that they are underrepresented in American television and feel they never have a space or accurate representation in tv & film. When Dunham claims her award is for women, she really means that her award is for ‘white women’, as is so often the case in mainstream feminism.

The main point to take from all of this is that Lena Dunham and Girls are important symbols of white feminism, and of women’s success and mobility in entertainment and culture. Women of colour are not relevant to feminism and do not count as women, according to many mainstream white-feminists, and once more woc are erased from mainstream culture.

Films in Colour: LGBT stories

When my friend asked me a few weeks ago to recommend some films featuring LGBT ethnic-minority people, I furrowed my brow and fell silent. Have I ever actually seen LGBT people of colour in movies?

Truth be told, my knowledge of gay cinema isn’t vast or favourable. LGBT films rarely reach mainstream media and consumption, and the few that I have seen were either low-budget, and it showed, or depressing, Oscar-nominated biopics. None of them featured queer people of colour – in anything other than background roles, anyway.

So I decided in-between segments of dissertation writing, to actively seek out LGBT films with ethnic-minority characters either as leads, or in large supporting roles. What I found was that, hidden in the depths of the extensively-white queer media, were a handful of beautifully-crafted, complex and honest movies. I’ve never seen such characters carved-out on screen, and it was refreshing yet saddening all at once.

Representation is important. Watching some of these films back, I realised just how rare these stories are in public view. Already struggling with visibility due to their queer, ‘minority’ content, these films have the added perception of being only for ethnic minorities, or only for the certain race(s) these films feature. Everybody watches films with straight characters in, or white characters, or those with all-male casts, but reverse these categories and the film is ‘niche’. It’s probably why I had to extensively research before I could even name more than one of these films.

However, after hours of movie-watching, I’m pleased to say that I have at least a beginner’s knowledge to queer people of colour film. Following are my thoughts on three of the movies I watched:

Gun Hill Road (2011)

Gun Hill Road follows ex-con, Enrique, returning home and attempting to reconnect with his family, including his son Michael. Michael is transgender and clashes with her father on her identity, Enrique taking Michael’s lifestyle as an attack on his masculinity and fatherhood. In many ways, the film uses stereotypes to further the story, for example Enrique takes Michael to visit a prostitute in the hopes that Michael will ‘remember’ that he is a man and the film is perhaps too-refined for its subject-matter. However, as Enrique struggles to come to terms with his child’s gender identity, while attempting to maintain his relationship with his family, the message of Gun Hill Road is an important one: acceptance. Throughout the movie it is clear that Enrique must accept his child’s life path to be in it at all, and to also not lose his wife, because Vanessa (Michael) refuses to hide her identity, no matter the consequences.

Pariah (2011)

Pariah is a film I’m thankful has been made. It’s centered on Alike, a 17-year-old African-American lesbian attempting to accept her butch-identity, while clashing with her lonely, conservative mother and an in-denial father. Pariah isn’t a happy film. Alike suffers homophobia, rejection, heartbreak and alienation, yet the film left me with a sense of hope and a barrel of emotions. Despite the challenges, Alike pulls through and is left strong, decisive, and on the cusp of an exciting new stage in her life.

This film is vibrant and unlike any that I’ve seen. Coming-of-age films with parents struggling to reconcile long-held beliefs with their teenager’s identities are nothing new, yet Pariah manages to tell its story is a fresh, unique way. The film is vulnerable and raw, honest in a way that I couldn’t believe something so relatable to me was on-screen. Director Dee Ree really gets it and it’s a special thing to see.

Circumstance (2011)

I saved my favourite for last. Circumstance is emotional, perhaps more so than Pariah, above. The film left me with a sense of emptiness and understanding that stayed with me for a few days, and a desire to share this movie with everyone I knew because of its truthfulness. Circumstance doesn’t hide away from its message or bury it with a flowery happy-ending, and it’s open-ended finish doesn’t allow for much closure. It follows teenager Atafeh and her best-friend Shireen as they explore youth-culture in Iran, teetering dangerously between a traditional, oppressive society and their desire for an escape, and for each other. Various people, Atafeh’s parents, her brother, government officials, attempt to control the two young women’s behaviour and force them to accept their circumstance.

There are some issues with the story: the entire sub-plot of Atafeh’s brother, Mehran, spying on his family through hidden-cameras, somehow completely undetected, is ridiculous and poorly handled. That the parents, or anyone other than Mehran, do not realise the true nature of Atafeh and Shireen’s relationship is disappointing and a missed-opportunity. However the film is sincere and graceful, all-the-while gritty and candid. Circumstance is an important one because it depicts something all-too rare in LGBT of colour film: genuine, beautiful and passionate love between two women. Such positive representation of homosexuality among Iranians is sparse and I’m thankful to have seen such a stunning film.

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Those are my reviews of my three favourite queer people of colour movies I’ve seen so far. I’m incredibly glad that my friend asked me about them a few weeks ago, for it’s opened my eyes to stories unfortunately missing from the public eye. I hope that the positive reception of each of these films in LGBT media will result in more presentation of these important images.

Crushed.

I saw you for the first time on a sticky night in June at one of those bars that doesn’t seem worth going to more than once, but I somehow get convinced to go to every week. Our eyes met across the room, my heart did a somersault and it was all very cliché.

I’m not used to that. I’m not used to crushing on someone I’ve literally seen for a second and I’m not used to feeling something right away. Crushes are normally difficult for me; I have to work hard to have feelings for someone, I need to get to know the person first, what interests them, what motivates them, whether or not they like to read. It’s only then that I can know if I want more. This usually takes a few weeks at least, so I rarely ever get anywhere with relationships. I call myself ‘picky’ and lay the blame there. But not this time.

This time, it happened so fast, it was almost untrustworthy. I couldn’t even explain why I liked you, since I really had nothing to go on, I just knew I did. I wanted to get to know you better and just even put myself on your radar, because right then, you didn’t even know my name.

It didn’t happen. We had a group conversation, which I didn’t participate much in because I honestly had no idea what anyone was talking about; they were all French exchange-students and to say that my conversational French is bad is putting it lightly. When we did talk, you asked where I was from because my accent was “so posh” and I took it as an insult because our first conversation was a million miles away from what I’d planned in my head. My friends kept dragging me off to dance and when I looked over, you were dancing close to another girl and my brief fantasy future shattered before me. My friend James reassured me that you two were just friends but I could tell by the look in his eyes and the tight hug that he didn’t really mean what he’d just said. We danced together and talked about it and laughed when you walked out from behind me, hoping that you hadn’t heard our conversation.

I felt like an idiot. I was upset over someone I hadn’t even had a proper conversation with. Truly upset. Go home and angst until 6am and wake up to ‘Love Lockdown’ still playing levels of upset.

It was only in the taxi journey home, introspective and sleepy, that I realised what was going on; I was projecting. I barely knew you, yet that didn’t stop me from giving you a barrel of attributes I wanted you to have as soon as I saw you. You were smart, bookish and had an affinity for blazers. You were romantic and bold, a little crass but in an endearing way. Yet I didn’t know a single thing about you.

I’d completely jumped the gun for once, and used you as a ‘face’ to my ideal partner.

I still don’t understand how this happened and I still don’t understand why my feelings persist, even though the majority of things I ‘know’ about you are from my imagination. In fact, the whole thing kind of scares me. Is this what my crushes are going to be like, from now on? I used to be so flippant with crushes, half because I didn’t care and half because I was scared. Am I now that person I never thought I would be, that person who cares too much?

I never used to put myself ‘out there’ because it seemed like it would hurt too much. Now, I don’t know if I have a choice.

Expectation vs. Reality: Being a 20-Year-Old

It goes without saying that the life I imagined I’d have for myself right now is completely different to the one I actually have. Teenage me was full of hopes and dreams, and even though I thought I was being realistic, the life I yearned for was incredibly idealistic. Here’s a look into expectation vs. reality.

On university

As a teenager: I’ll maintain the perfect balance of university work, extra-curriculars and a social life. I’ll take a module in film studies and one in creative writing, to explore my interests outside of history. I’ll probably be on the model UN, the head editor of the student newspaper and the lead in multiple university productions. I’ll always have plans with friends and I’ll go out around three times a week, getting a classy amount of drunk, if at all. I’ll eat well and exercise often, because I’ll be a grown up and will have figured that stuff out. Basically, it’ll be the best years of my life.

20-year-old me: Why does my department keep insisting I do at least one Early Modern module? I don’t care about early modern history. Why do my tutors always seem like talking to students outside of seminars is a chore? Why do I have so few hours? Why aren’t the books I need for this essay in the library? When is this essay even due, anyway? I emailed my tutor and got no response. Oh look, here’s that article I still haven’t written. I can’t write it tonight because I have a Forum meeting until 8 and then an exec meeting until 10. And then I have to write this essay. I could do it tomorrow, but then I have to do five hours of reading, a presentation and go to a training day. Oh, and then I have to go out for my friend’s birthday. Damn, I won’t have time to eat. Guess I’m going to get drunk very quickly tomorrow. Hopefully I won’t have a hangover though, because I’ll need to write the article afterwards. Sleep? What’s that?

On my location

As a teenager: When I’m in my twenties, I’m going to move to New York City. I have to be realistic so my apartment will be pretty tiny, but I’ll buy a lot of pretty, minimalist, modern furniture and cosy rugs to make it seem nice. I’ll take the subway to work, spend my evenings walking through Central Park and spend weekends at a coffee shop, off-the-beaten-track, writing my first post-university novel.

20-year-old me: When I graduate, I’m going to live back home because there’s no way on earth I can afford to rent in London, let alone relocate to New York. If I’m lucky, if I save up for five or six years, pay off my student loans and buy pretty much nothing, I’ll be able to rent my own place in London when I’m 26. No comment on when I’ll even be able to think of moving abroad. No one graduates and gets their own place anymore. Isn’t it funny how you have to have lots of money to borrow money? On the plus side, it means I get to live with my parents for six more years, so there’s that.

On relationships

As a teenager: I’m going to have a boyfriend my first month at university. He’ll be sweet, smart, romantic and I’ll adore him. Around six months into our relationship, my best guy friend will tell me he’s in love with me, and I will have the tragic decision of deciding between two incredibly handsome guys. I won’t be able to bear to make the choice, so choose neither and break-up with my boyfriend. Then will come my inspirational single period, where I rediscover myself. Soon into my second year, I meet a gorgeous American exchange student and we fall madly in love. We spend the year together, poking fun at each other’s accents and learning from each other. When he has to go back home the next summer, we make the difficult decision to break-up because neither of us want a long-distance relationship. I don’t date anyone for a while in third year, focusing on my work. In second term, I go to a bar with my friends to see local bands play and meet the lead singer of an up-and-coming band. We become friends, he falls for me and asks me out. Hesitant after having my heart broken last year, I decline his offer. He understands but says he won’t give up on me. We become better friends and flirt on occasion, and we get closer. One night, he asks if I’ll spend the rest of my life afraid and I say no. We kiss and we have a beautiful, tumultuous relationship. When at the end of the year, I get a job offer from the New York Times and I take it without a second thought. He asks if he can come with me to New York and I say no, because I don’t want to be tied down. We break up, and I move to a new city, ready to meet and fall in love with new people.

20-year-old me: Haha. Hahahaha. Ha. Ha.

On sex

As a teenager: This is something every twenty year old does, right? Seems fun! I bet I’ll have a lot of it.

20-year-old me: Oh teenager-me, you were so delusional.

On my future, after graduation

As a teenager: I’m going to get a job offer in New York from a prestigious journalism publication, straight after graduation. I’ll feel hopeful, determined and incredibly happy. I’ll feel confident about finding success in the world, because I’ll be a 21-year-old university graduate, with brilliant grades and lots of extra-curricular achievements under my belt. Not many people will be able to say that, right?

20-year-old me: If I get a graduate job this year, I’ll be the luckiest person in the world.

Things I Refuse to do this Winter

1. Go out to a club wearing a dress or a skirt with no tights. It’s 5 degrees celsius, we’ll probably have to queue outside and I don’t have to shave my legs if I wear them. I prefer being warm and once we’re inside, it’s way too dark to notice, so why even bother?
2. Wear anything thin or cropped. Something I really hate about women’s fashion is how everything seems designed to keep us cold. Seriously, why is everything sheer? Why is it so hard to find a sweater that will actually keep me warm? I know it’s because designers want to force you to layer, and therefore buy more, but I’d much rather spend £50 on one, cozy jumper than £25 on a ‘jumper’ with short sleeves, that’s made out of the fashion equivalent of shiritaki noodles, and a t-shirt to go underneath. Jumpers that don’t keep you warm are unnecessary and should be banned.
3. Not wear hoodies all the time. I have quite a sizeable collection, which I intend to fully utilize this winter. I’ll wear them with skinny jeans, a scarf and boots to look like I care, but when I truly don’t, I’ll wear them over dresses or with converse. Either way, there won’t be a lot of variety in what I wear.
4. Wear bras all the time. It’s cold and bras are uncomfortable. I don’t know what it being winter has to do with this, but I’ll take any excuse not to wear them. You won’t be able to tell over all the layers or thick hoodie I’m sporting anyway.
5. Not wear ugg or ugg-style boots. They get a lot of criticism and I’ll fully admit I thought they were stupid until I tried on a pair a few years ago. They’re warm and cozy, and that’s obviously all I care about during winter, so. Also I feel like they give the perception that I’ve tried more with my outfit than if I wear trainers, which probably isn’t true but I like to think it anyway.

In summary, I refuse to be cold this winter. Spring, summer & early autumn is when I might put style over comfort (or style with comfort) and be creative with my outfits and you know, actually make an effort. But the minute winter rolls over, all I need are hoodies, sweaters and boots.

Student Woe #20983 – Cover Letters

So it’s that time. I have to start applying for graduate jobs and going through the long process of applications, interviews, tests and more interviews. It’s really scary and I wish I could go back to first year and join every club on campus because after years of being told to be the same as everyone else, I now have to prove how ‘different’ and ‘stand out’ I am.

The one part that really throws me? Cover letters.

I’ve never really written cover letters before. Or I have, but I wrote a generic letter which pretty much said ‘Hi, I’m applying for [internship]. Attached is my CV. Thanks.’ I didn’t get the internship.

I assumed that cover letters were unimportant and simply just a ‘wrapper’ for the rest of an application. But after some research, I’ve found that the whole point of a cover letter is to sell yourself and be original. Which is fine, because I’m a ‘creative-type’, right?

Wrong. The thing about cover letters (and the whole application process) is that you have to talk about how amazing you are, while showing why you are so much more amazing than the thousands of other students with exactly the same grades and experience, while saying why you would provide invaluable contribution to the company you want to work for, while also not sounding conceited and delusional. It’s a difficult balance to get right.

Earlier today I decided to re-try writing one, this time with the knowledge that they are actually important and not just a regurgitation of the attached CV. Keeping the ‘be original’ mantra in mind, I wrote my first line:

I’m applying for [job] and I’ve just begun my third year studying History at [University].

I deleted it straight away because it doesn’t sound original at all. It’s a boring opening line, but also a completely necessary one. How on earth do I state what I’m applying for and what I’m studying in a non-conventional way, but also still sound formal? I decided to switch it up a little:

If you’re looking for a bright, dedicated graduate with great communication skills and record of commitment and passion to corporate finance, to join your team of world-class analysts, then I’m the person for the job.

I didn’t like it. It was a little different (not too far from the beaten track, though) but also ridiculous. I could hear the line being said by Tom from Parks and Recreation if I added a ‘swagger’ in there somewhere and changed the industry to celebrity PR.

I decided I’d come back to it.

I went back to the internet and found the advice ‘your cover letter should read like a love-letter to the company you’re applying to’. It was worth a shot.

When I think of my future, I can’t picture it without you. From the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew that you were something special and I knew you were going to change my life. That’s why I’m applying to you, [company]. I’ve seen that vision of my future and I now know that it’s all I want. I can’t imagine being with anyone else, I can’t even imagine wanting anyone else. I only want to work for you and I want to give you my all. I promise that I will dedicate my life to bringing you success and I will do so with all of my heart and soul. You make me a better, happier, more fulfilled person and if you let me, I will spend the rest of my life trying to make you a better company.

Yeah, I sound like a psychopath and also kind of like I’m proposing, which is weird. I’m also in a place in my life where a love letter is one of the last things I want to write, and it was way too hard to think of something sentimental to say.

So, I went back to the drawing board (or notepad?). Going back to the ‘be original’ mantra, I focused on what makes me different from all the other students applying for the job.

Not only am I smart, analytical and creative, I’m also a team player with excellent communication skills. My experience shows that I’ve worked in and led many teams, and so have developed my leadership skills. In those teams, I’ve worked with those in-your-face, obnoxious, holier-than-thou leaders a lot so I know how to deal with them without bruising their egos. I’m a hard-worker, and I believe in giving one-hundred percent in everything I do.

I’m witty, snarky, I can think on my feet, I’m likeable and I’m really good at surviving on two hours of sleep, thanks to my university routine around exam periods. Need me at the office until 4am? Done. Need me back at 7am? Sure! I’m also really good at not-throwing up after drinking alcohol, so I won’t embarrass you if I go out with clients and grab a couple of drinks.

I also enjoy challenges so if you give me something really difficult to do, I won’t freak out on you and mess it up, unlike other candidates might, I’ll be determined to do the task in the best way possible. I’m also really friendly so you hopefully won’t hate working with me or having my presence in the office.

Fun fact: I play the guitar so I could even serenade you after a particularly brutal client meeting or evaluation, if you’d like. Also, the logistics behind tying a cherry stem into a knot with my tongue confuse me, but if I tried to do it, I bet I could. Because that’s the thing about me: I’ll commit myself to something until I’m well-above mediocre at it. I apply the advice of the great Ron Swanson to everything I do:

“Never half ass two things, whole ass one.”

And that is why you should hire me, dear sir or madam.

Let’s be real, if I were an employer and that letter came onto my desk, I would hire that person in an instant. But I’m not and while that letter is different, it’s probably almost guaranteed to not get me hired. Humour doesn’t bode well in formal situations, unfortunately. If I had the guts, I honestly would send this letter. But this is serious, real-life stuff, with a potential job on the line and I can’t risk losing my chance because I took the ‘original’ thing too far.

And now I’m back at square one and I have nothing to send.

It’s going to be a long night.

Dealbreakers

Insult Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Everything else I love is fair game. You can criticise the campy-ness of season one, the appalling extras and how bad 90s outfits were, but nothing else. Especially not Queen Cordelia (no really, I will crush you).