By Arturo R. García
So late last week, this fake trailer for a live-action Daria movie started going around online:
The premise, which brings the eponymous anti-heroine back to Lawndale for her high-school reunion, is clever. And the casting of Aubrey Plaza is not only a great comedic fit, but it would be another great spotlight for her as a biracial actress in a lead role; if it were to come to pass, it wouldn’t be a bad follow-up at all to her work in The To-Do List.
But, while the trailer does maximize its time in showing us updated versions of Daria, Jane Lane, Daria’s family and representatives of the student body and town Daria was so glad to leave behind, Tanya at Geekquality noted the first glaring absence: no sign of Jodie Landon.
by Guest Contributor Anishinaabekwe, originally published at Anishinaabekwe
I need to bring this up. Tired of my issues being swept under the rug. Tired of not being the “apparent minority.” Tired of exclusion in the activist community. Tired of being labeled as a women of color but being treated as otherwise. Tired of judgment. Tired of censorship of Native issues in the mainstream news. Tired of being Invisibly Native.
I have noticed that in the blogosphere that other women of color blogs outshine Native ones. You don’t hear about Native issues in the news. You don’t read about Native issues. You may have never even met a Native person. You may have never been to a reservation or reserve. Then if we bring up issues in our communities we get dissected in our identity, not honored, questioned if we are Native, etc. I am frankly still exhausted from trauma in activism and in the workplace. I feel many Natives choose to remain invisible even if they are visible because they are not taken seriously. They are not even taken seriously in “safe” people of color spaces. I have experienced not being taken seriously in several women of color spaces.
From my experience I feel that other people of color want to blend in with the majority society while the Native community wants to stay out. The Native community has far less money to invest in the majority society so we stay on our own or try to stay together in their communities the best that they can. There is no reason to try and blend with a society that doesn’t care about you.
Some way we need to move beyond this invisibility. I have a few questions that I welcome all of my blog readers to answer, even if you are not Native.
1. What do you know about the term “invisible minority” in the Native community specifically?
2. Do you feel Native/Aboriginal/First Nations women’s issues are not addressed in women of color spaces? If they are addressed, do you think they are addressed fairly and equally? Or do you think other women of color groups outshine Native/Aboriginal/First Nations women’s groups/issues?
3. Do you think the Native/Aboriginal/First Nations communities receive less social services and money for social services than other communities of color?
4. What are your experiences as a Native/Aboriginal/First Nations person in the majority society around other people of color? Do you feel included in your community?
5. Do you feel that your tribal traditions and values in your community/reservation are different than the values of creating change, justice and healing in other communities of color?
by Guest Contributor Joseph Shahadi, also published at VSthePomegranate
A few months ago, I got into a fistfight on the subway.
I was coming home from work and it was packed. There was this gawky twelve year old kid standing nearby. I’d noticed him earlier in the ride clowning around with a friend: Skinny kid, all fingers and toes, awash in the dorkiness of an actual pre-teen who does not have his own show on the Disney channel. I was tired and spacing out when the door slid open and people shifted to get off. The kid made a move for the door but I had a few stops left so I twisted out of the way to let him exit but instead of moving forward he just stood there, blinking and stammering. Just as I was asking him, “are you getting off?” someone behind me gave me a hard shove out of the way. I fell forward, the guy walked around me, and out the door…but not before I gave him a hard shove back.
Then he whirled around and sucker punched me in the face.
In retrospect, the dorky kid was probably paralyzed because he could see past me to the impatient guy who, it turns out was big. Very big. But I didn’t really have time to process any of that in the moment because when he punched me I saw red and…do you remember how Garfield the cartoon cat used to sail through the air to throw himself on to a cartoon lasagna? I did that. “Hello,” said my lizard brain, “I will be taking it from here.” Impatient guy was surprised. The people around us, who were streaming off of the subway, were surprised. Hell, I surprised myself. We stumbled out on to the subway platform as New York commuters, disinterested but ready to move away in case one of us pulled out a weapon, watched blankly.
For some reason, this is the part of the story where everyone wants to know if the guy was black. Continue reading