This short film is a horrifyingly, beautiful and accurate depiction of Western beauty standards.
Supervenus by Federic Doazan showcases the trauma and harm that a certain aesthetic does to a woman's body. The film is quite gory, as a real woman is nipped and tucked. We often forget that real women are engaging in this drastic behavior everyday to prove their worth and value to a society that holds them to such a narrow standard of beauty.
The amount of women who seek out plastic surgery gradually increases every year, telling an awful tale of how we view women's bodies and how women are taught to view themselves. We often regard women's bodies as products, something to be constantly improved upon and re-constructed at all times, as our bodies are suited for the male gaze and nothing else.
Check out the film and reflect for a moment on the harm this has on a woman's self esteem and how she regards herself in society. This is something we all need to talk about. When we put so much brain power towards our outward appearance, we often forget about making strides for women in politics and in the workplace.
Love,
Kris
Monday, September 22, 2014
Monday, September 15, 2014
Six things I've learned as a struggling writer
Deciding to be a writer is just about one of the dumbest things you could ever do. There are no guarantees with anything. You could write the best damn book in the world and if you can't get it in the hands of the right people, it means nothing.
The writing process is filled with sleep deprivation, heartache, and the struggle to learn what is good writing. I've had my fair share of rejections, setbacks, and manuscript rewrites.
So here are a few of the things I've learned that may help you on your journey:
1. Don't just start writing a novel. Start by teaching yourself the elements of a book, and learn how to write well first. Write short stories before attempting a novel. Teaching your self the basics beforehand will save a lot of time during the editing process.
2. Editing is harder than writing. You've completed your manuscript and you're super proud of yourself, and you should be. But don't start celebrating yet because the hard work has just begun. Edit, then edit again, and then edit just a bit more. Get rid of those cliches. Round out those characters. Make that small town feel real. It takes work, but once you get it right, it's worth it.
3. Read and write everyday. Now I know what you're thinking, if I'm writing and editing all the time how could I possibly have time to read? Well you better find the time, because without reading you won't have the tools to know what makes good writing. Read across genres and read books on writing, like The Elements of Style and Writing Tools by Roy Peter Clark. And you know to write everyday because that's how you get better, it's how you hone your craft. You won't get better if you don't practice. And if you think your writing's already good enough, it's probably shit.
6. Never give up. This is your dream, and even though it's a stupid, completely unrealistic dream, there exists something in you that wants to write. Don't deny that part of yourself, feed it as often as you can and just keep hoping for the best. That big publishing contract isn't out there for everyone, but that doesn't mean it isn't out there for you. Work hard and it could happen. You just have to keep trying.
The writing process is filled with sleep deprivation, heartache, and the struggle to learn what is good writing. I've had my fair share of rejections, setbacks, and manuscript rewrites.So here are a few of the things I've learned that may help you on your journey:
1. Don't just start writing a novel. Start by teaching yourself the elements of a book, and learn how to write well first. Write short stories before attempting a novel. Teaching your self the basics beforehand will save a lot of time during the editing process.
2. Editing is harder than writing. You've completed your manuscript and you're super proud of yourself, and you should be. But don't start celebrating yet because the hard work has just begun. Edit, then edit again, and then edit just a bit more. Get rid of those cliches. Round out those characters. Make that small town feel real. It takes work, but once you get it right, it's worth it.
3. Read and write everyday. Now I know what you're thinking, if I'm writing and editing all the time how could I possibly have time to read? Well you better find the time, because without reading you won't have the tools to know what makes good writing. Read across genres and read books on writing, like The Elements of Style and Writing Tools by Roy Peter Clark. And you know to write everyday because that's how you get better, it's how you hone your craft. You won't get better if you don't practice. And if you think your writing's already good enough, it's probably shit.
4. Share your writing with fellow writers. If you write in a vacuum, you won't get better. You can't see everything that's wrong with your writing, and close friends and family can't either. Meet other writers through workshops or by joining a critique group. It might be uncomfortable at first, but it will teach you to handle criticism. Everyone has room for improvement.
5. There will be rejection. Get used to that idea. Let that sink in, and know that there will be many people who don't like what you've written, or who would have done it differently. Fuck those people. This is where belief in yourself becomes crucial. If someone offers some constructive criticism, then by all means listen, but if they're just saying that what you've written isn't right for them or they simply don't like it, then cry for a bit, and move on. Get over it as quickly as possible because there's more work to be done and lots more rejection to be had.
6. Never give up. This is your dream, and even though it's a stupid, completely unrealistic dream, there exists something in you that wants to write. Don't deny that part of yourself, feed it as often as you can and just keep hoping for the best. That big publishing contract isn't out there for everyone, but that doesn't mean it isn't out there for you. Work hard and it could happen. You just have to keep trying.
Love,
Kris
Monday, September 8, 2014
The Black in Me
I am a mixed chick, and because of that racial identity has always been something I've struggled with.
Who am I? What category of people do I fit in to?
If we didn't have phrases like, 'acting white' or 'acting black', I'm sure it wouldn't matter much to me, but as our society is so focused on race and how it relates to our personalities and our lives, racial identity is often tied to our core.
I would like to say that race always matters, and it does if you're a person of color. When you're white, you have the privilege of not being burdened with thoughts about race. You are who you are, and your race is often invisible to others. You can be whatever you want. You can go pretty much anywhere, and feel like you belong, but for many of us that isn't the case.
For me, since I am a writer, I'm not just a writer. I'm a multicultural writer, meaning that I choose to write about more than just the white experience, and I do that because I know little to nothing about what it means to be white.
Of course the majority of books, TV, and film depict the white experience, so I know some in that sense. But my identity for much of my existence has more or less been tied to the black experience, and yes, I realize that I'm not black, but I really don't think that matters because as people of color, we should all be focused on the social hierarchy that exists in this country and that often places black lives at the bottom.
My grandfather was black, my mother is mixed. I grew up in south Atlanta, in a predominately black neighborhood. I experienced racism, poverty, and ill treatment firsthand because I was treated as someone who was black, and I saw myself as black, even though I am not.
And here is where it gets tricky, once I left my hometown for college and was confronted with the whiteness of the collegiate system, I came across many people; students, professors, who did not expect me to be black.
They wanted me to be something else.
They told me that acting like I was black would put me at a certain disadvantage my entire life, and that by claiming to be something else, anything else, I would be better off. That's pretty fucked up. And it was pretty hard for an 18-year-old to understand, but I did because I experienced it everyday.
I noticed the way white folks would look at me, judging me, asking me where I'm from. And if I were to say south Atlanta, I'd get the cold shoulder from most people I came in contact with, so I started saying California instead. I started telling people that I was mixed, and I would omit the fact that my grandfather was black, and you know where it got me? Absolutely nowhere, because people still saw me as different, as the 'other', not a whole person, not a complete person because I wasn't white.
But around that time, I was ashamed of the black in me because I let so many people's opinions dictate how I felt about myself. And it's hard because people will tell you that you're skin's too dark, or they'll say things like "you only got that scholarship because you're Latina," or they'll wonder why you're so articulate and they'll question your intelligence because someone who looks like me couldn't possibly be smart or hardworking.
I'm ashamed of the fact that I didn't own my blackness and that I was afraid of offending white people by mentioning it. I'm ashamed that I ever thought to omit a part of who I am, and in light of the intense amount of racial injustice taking place in parts all over this country, I just want to say that I'm proud of the black in me. I'm proud to be a person of color, despite the disadvantage that it puts me in.
Love,
Kris
Who am I? What category of people do I fit in to?
If we didn't have phrases like, 'acting white' or 'acting black', I'm sure it wouldn't matter much to me, but as our society is so focused on race and how it relates to our personalities and our lives, racial identity is often tied to our core.
I would like to say that race always matters, and it does if you're a person of color. When you're white, you have the privilege of not being burdened with thoughts about race. You are who you are, and your race is often invisible to others. You can be whatever you want. You can go pretty much anywhere, and feel like you belong, but for many of us that isn't the case.
For me, since I am a writer, I'm not just a writer. I'm a multicultural writer, meaning that I choose to write about more than just the white experience, and I do that because I know little to nothing about what it means to be white.
Of course the majority of books, TV, and film depict the white experience, so I know some in that sense. But my identity for much of my existence has more or less been tied to the black experience, and yes, I realize that I'm not black, but I really don't think that matters because as people of color, we should all be focused on the social hierarchy that exists in this country and that often places black lives at the bottom.
My grandfather was black, my mother is mixed. I grew up in south Atlanta, in a predominately black neighborhood. I experienced racism, poverty, and ill treatment firsthand because I was treated as someone who was black, and I saw myself as black, even though I am not.
And here is where it gets tricky, once I left my hometown for college and was confronted with the whiteness of the collegiate system, I came across many people; students, professors, who did not expect me to be black.
They wanted me to be something else.
They told me that acting like I was black would put me at a certain disadvantage my entire life, and that by claiming to be something else, anything else, I would be better off. That's pretty fucked up. And it was pretty hard for an 18-year-old to understand, but I did because I experienced it everyday.
I noticed the way white folks would look at me, judging me, asking me where I'm from. And if I were to say south Atlanta, I'd get the cold shoulder from most people I came in contact with, so I started saying California instead. I started telling people that I was mixed, and I would omit the fact that my grandfather was black, and you know where it got me? Absolutely nowhere, because people still saw me as different, as the 'other', not a whole person, not a complete person because I wasn't white.
But around that time, I was ashamed of the black in me because I let so many people's opinions dictate how I felt about myself. And it's hard because people will tell you that you're skin's too dark, or they'll say things like "you only got that scholarship because you're Latina," or they'll wonder why you're so articulate and they'll question your intelligence because someone who looks like me couldn't possibly be smart or hardworking.
I'm ashamed of the fact that I didn't own my blackness and that I was afraid of offending white people by mentioning it. I'm ashamed that I ever thought to omit a part of who I am, and in light of the intense amount of racial injustice taking place in parts all over this country, I just want to say that I'm proud of the black in me. I'm proud to be a person of color, despite the disadvantage that it puts me in.
Love,
Kris
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