By Andrea Plaid
Professor Anita Hill. Via gazette.gmu.edu
Professor Anita Hill lifted my feminism from my soul and inner circle of cohorts and into a public place.
My old hometown newspaper called the women’s center where I served as co-coordinator during my undergrad days to get a quote about the Judiciary Committee’s fooliganery regarding Professor Hill testifying against then-Supreme Court Justice nominee Clarence Thomas. Since I answered the phone, I told the reporter exactly what was on my heart to say: I wanted to give Hill a bouquet of roses for speaking out, for steadily speaking her truth about the sexual harassment Thomas inflicted on her.
The reporter used my quote in the story.
Donate to a Fathers of Color Picture Book and Project
I’m working on a children’s book that celebrates engaged fathers with the intent of uplifting families, moms, children… everyone. The language isn’t outwardly political, but it is also about presenting positive images of boys and men of color, especially as integral pieces of loving, thriving families.
I recently launched the project on Kickstarter. Check out its quick 2-minute video:
I’d be really honored if you posted this project on your blog!
The book is for dads, and moms, and single dads, and single moms, and kids. I see engaged fatherhood is key to lifting up our communities. This book counteracts the stereotypes of deadbeat dads of color. It shines love on those fathers out there that are amazing, and making amazing contributions, but invisible within mass culture. It paves the way for this generation of boys to be just as amazing. And from the mom and girl end, I believe that men’s full engagement in family life is key to ending the oppression of women (in so many ways).
Donate here.Conferences, Festivals, and a Meet Up
Also, three major events are happening in NYC on October 15th: The Festival of the New Black Imagination, New York Comic Con, and Sex, Power, and Speaking Truth: Anita Hill 20 Years Later. Read on for more details and a possible meet up. Continue reading