When I was in grade three my parents could not make me read. Reading to me, was an extension of school— a place that made me learn my times tables and made me ask to use the bathroom. That is until I inherited my cousin's most prized possessions. She had boxes upon boxes of these colourful strips of stories depicting idyllic teenage-hood. These stories transformed reading from a primary school chore into a window on what it meant to grow up, be in love, maintain friendships, and eat copious amounts of burgers at Pop Tate’s.
My cousin had given me the gift of Archie and the gang. I remember summers where I would hardly go a day without going through one or two Double Digests. I would have friends over and we would crack open my Archie boxes and read in the backyard. I would save up money to buy new ones; I raided my grandparents house to find the ancient copies my mom had saved. I was obsessed. Safe to say when I heard they were turning these comics into a T.V. show earlier this year I had high hopes. ...Also safe to say when I heard it was going to be a murder mystery these hopes were dramatically lowered. The preview had me cringing. Riverdale, Archie’s hometown, had become nothing more than an easy trope for idyllic America, and the perfect backdrop for the CW to unleash drama upon. I felt like they were bound to leave this huge contributor to my childhood imagination, defiled and broken with its audiences invested in this accessory drama and detached from the stories of growing up that had made Archie comics so important to me. However, looking back on this childhood roadmap to my teen years I can see ‘Archies’ had some holes. First off it was fundamentally white, heteronormative, and upper to middle class dominated. Archie was America’s sweetheart(fuckboy*), and Betty and Veronica were essentially plot devices to maintain his innocence, by being pitted against one another. Riverdale actually had a lot to work with, and a lot of work to do. And when January 26th rolled around and the first episode aired, I forgot my concerns about the murder mystery and fell in love with all they had done for Archie comics’ flaws. First of all it maintained the characters and setting perfectly. Second of all it completely disrupted the characters and setting perfectly. By maintaining the shape of each character, but bending what it meant to look and feel like these characters, Riverdale gives audiences something to relate to, rather than strive for. Gone are the messages of letterman jackets, homecoming dances and essentially white, middle class, straight teenage-hood as the poster child for ‘idyllic America’, and in it’s place is left an image of just straight-up teenage-hood -- a word that describes a time period, not a skin colour, class, or sexual orientation. Now of course Riverdale still has letterman jackets and homecoming dances. But what makes these symbols different in the T.V. show compared to the preceding comic is that they are purposefully disrupted of their historically coloured, classed, and sexualized nature. Moose within the Archie comic canon is the dumb jock. He’s blonde, assumedly middle class, and has a nice straight relationship with fellow caucasian Midge. In Riverdale, we learn Moose— while not openly anything other than straight— is experimenting, and definitely questioning those heteronormative parameters of the letterman jacket he couldn’t quite escape in the comic. The financial status of the characters in the comics is rarely meditated upon, however just as all fictional characters are assumedly white, and all babies, pop fictional or otherwise, are assumed heterosexual, Archie and the gang were assumedly middle class. This also plays into the trope of ‘idyllic America’: the land of opportunities, where families work hard and therefore get by comfortably. However in Riverdale Jughead is not middle class. We learn Jughead is decidedly lower class. Living essentially homeless after his mom leaves, his father is barely able to take care of him because of financial problems, gang involvement, as well as substance abuse problems. And well there are some stereotypes at play in Jugheads class story, there are also some very poignant connections between poverty and its cyclical nature. And while he deals with issues unique to his class, Jughead also attends Riverdale high, frequents Pop Tate’s, and high school dances, activities that in the comics contribute to Riverdales idealised culture and are exclusively attached with middle to upper class criteria. Lastly, the way the show plays with the character's race is exactly what this franchise needed. Riverdale exemplifies how race does not define character, and White does not define idyllic. While there are some problematic stereotypes at play in Riverdale (Chuck the angry Black harasser of women, and Dilton the Asian nerd to name a few), the show also does a lot to disrupt the concept of white idyllic America. Although the characters remain true to their canon form: Veronica is beautiful, rich and powerful, Reggie is a confident asshole, Josie is a badass musician; they also completely disregard the ‘canon’ colour of their skin. That being...white. This in itself dismantles the notion that while the idyllic American high school can vary in character types, there cannot be variation in skin colour. Riverdale takes the ‘teenager’ trope away from the straight, well-off, white kids, who have held claim on it throughout not only Archie comics but most of our pop culture. It demands we question narratives that have been around since the 50’s (**Archie comics**) and not excuse stories riddled with privilege as ‘canon’. This show has taken the Archie franchise exactly where it needed to go, murder mystery and all. And I cannot wait for season two. -Leah
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Waiting for your bus to arrive? Stuck in rush-hour traffic? Just out for a leisurely stroll? Instead of sitting in silence the next time you are trapped on the subway, with only your own thoughts and the muffled voice of the train operator reiterating that “the delay will be resolved soon” to distract you, take a moment to enrich your day, with a podcast. Educate yourself or laugh a little or get caught up on today’s news, or do all of the above; there are podcasts for every topic and every listener. And then later that night, at dinner with your parents or friends or a hot-date, you can impress them with how much you know about up-and-coming female politicians and crime in Rhode Island and Gina Rodriguez. Here are my nominations for the most binge-worthy podcasts: If you want chats and laughs… 1. Call Your Girlfriend - “A podcast for long-distance besties everywhere”, hosted by Aminatou Sow and Ann Friedman, covering everything pop culture, current events, and politics. Unapologetically feminist and unwaveringly hilarious, these two best friends are talk honestly and inclusively on topics such as menstruation, the cheeto-president, and the pros and cons of capitalism. Also, the podcast that inspired this blog! 2. Anna Faris Is Unqualified - Relationship and life advice from a one-time English major, now award-winning actress, and her equally unqualified celebrity friends. The interviews are consistently off-topic, but always relevant, with friend-guests like Chelsea Handler, Terry Crews, and Jenny Slate. 3. 2 Dope Queens - BFFs Phoebe Robinson and Jessica Williams, and all their favourite funny people dish sex stories, women’s rights, romance misadventures, hair journeys, obsessions with Bono, and lots of other knee-slapping shit. 4. Nancy - A new podcast on the block, which means you only have a few episodes of frank chats and interviews to catch up on. Hosted by another set of best friends, Kathy Tu and Tobin Low (“super queer and super fun”), this podcast aims to cover the LGBTQ experience with rad guests, provocative topics, and a few mentions of Albus Dumbledore. 5. Sooo Many White Guys - It’s Phoebe Robinson, round 2!! Produced by the brilliant and hysterical Ilana Glazer of Broad City, packed with guest appearances from slayers and dominators of every entertainment industry, all the while valiantly attempting to keep the white guy level at a minimum. If you need a dose of culture or science… 1. Science Vs - The perfect podcast to help you out during those heated holiday debates with that ultra-opinionated, but maybe slightly uninformed, relative of yours. Science journalist Wendy Zukerman takes on the hottest fads and the most contentious issues to unearth the hard-cold facts, the completely fabricated myths, and the in-between. 2. Invisibilia - A combination of science, storytelling, and investigation, this NPR produced podcast takes listeners on a self-reflective exploratory journey through the jungle of assumptions, emotions and constructions (the invisible forces), which may explain why we are the way we are. 3. Crimetown - Rhode Island is not the first place that comes to mind when I think of mobsters and gangs and all things crime, however Marc Smerling and Zac Stuart-Pontier tell a very different story. Each season will be an in-depth investigation into the crime culture of a different American city, starting with the quaint, east coast town of Providence. 4. Harry Potter & The Sacred Text - This weekly podcast allows all of us who have never really gotten over the magic of reading Harry Potter for the first time, to relive the splendor, the characters and the truly astoundingly crafted story, once more, while drawing connections to other literary works, current events, and history. 5. The Nerdist - If a Harry Potter podcast isn’t nerdy enough for you, try this one, hosted by comedian Chris Hardwick, wherein he and his self-proclaimed nerdy celebrity guest, talk comedy, nerd culture, politics, and being a human. The show is in its 7th season, and on its 866th episode, so there is a bit to catch up on, but it is well worth it! If you are craving critical discussion… 1. With Friends Like These - In the aftermath of a rather devastating and ultimately exhausting election season, Ana Marie Cox took to the podcast world to try to understand what caused and continues to perpetuate the divisive chasm between the left and the right. Candid conversations with writers, activists, politicians, and everyday people, work towards finding common ground, and understanding what the hell is going on.
2. Colour Code - The only Canadian-based podcast on the list, this Globe and Mail produced show is a bold and trailblazing series about race in Canada. Hosts Denise Balkissoon and Hannah Sung ask unflinching questions in the search for imperative answers on the topic of race and racism in Canada, which is something Canadians and the Canadian government is notoriously good at ignoring. 3. Another Round - Heben Nigatu and Tracy Clayton cover everything from gender to race to corrupt politics to the Dakota Access Pipeline, and then also mangoes and Nicki Minaj and good wine and what Barack Obama smells like. The show is produced by Buzzfeed, is insightful and hilarious, and the fact that Heben and Tracy drink booze the whole way through, only adds to the excellence. 4. The United States of Anxiety - Amidst the rather disconcerting, frightening, and somewhat hopeless political environment of America today (see: Planned Parenthood, public education, climate change, and police brutality, to name a few), this podcast introduces listeners to culture warriors who are influencing debates on religion, race, science, and sexuality, and fighting for what they believe in. 5. Code Switch - The tagline is: “race and identity, remixed”, and the show is tackling the falsely constructed societal idea that our world is “post-racial”, and that all of the issues associated with race, culture, and ethnicity are firmly behind us. A team of veteran journalists, headed by Shereen Marisol Meraji and Gene Demby, chat about how race and identity exist in our lives and communities, and how they are always changing. A podcast I have been recently engaging with as part of my anti-racism journey (which is so very far from over). And those are just a few of the many smart, creative, and groundbreaking podcasts out there on the internet. Happy listening! -Amy And now we take a break from your regularly scheduled programming for a Public Service Announcement directed at my future husband, wherever you are out there: Hi you. So, we’ve been dating for a while. We love each other. We probably have a coffee maker and a slow cooker and a piece of furniture that we bought from Ikea and built together. You’ve learnt I am horrible at cooking, and watch a lot of Netflix. I’ve met your parents, and you’ve met mine. And now, it’s time to take the next step. But before you do anything rash, if you for some reason feel the urge to get down on one knee and propose marriage, let me give you the only advice you need to ensure it goes smoothly. I will gladly accept puppies or kittens, a plate of nachos or an assortment of sushi, a plane ticket anywhere or a case of red wine, but please, I insist, do not pull that small, black velvet box out of your pocket. No engagement rings, please! (Oh and also, do not propose to me in a public place. That will likewise cause me to run away.) Thank you, and enjoy the rest of your evening. ~~~ My childhood-self and I would not agree on this issue. When I was five, I convinced my mom to buy me my first bridal magazine because I was enamoured with the glamour and romance of the dresses and flowers and everything else. Then I found jewelry websites, and began searching for the perfect engagement ring: Oval or square? Silver or gold? Vintage or modern? By the time I had landed my first part-time job, I knew exactly what ring I wanted to be proposed to with, and I felt very sure that someday that fantasy would come true. But, now I’m just not so convinced. And it’s not that I’m an unromantic person – I dream about finding my “one true love”, someone to fall head-over-heels for, to be my best friend, and to spend the rest of my life with. I want a small outdoor wedding, somewhere in between the ocean and the forest, preferably in bare feet, with only my closest family and friends in attendance. There will be lots of delicious food and even more delicious wine at the after-party, and instead of a white wedding cake, I want wheels of cheese, fresh fruit, and guacamole. But in all the daydreams I’ve had of my wedding, engagement rings have gradually faded out of the picture. I don’t mind the exchange of wedding rings, and the “I Do’s” and the vows, but engagement rings just personally don’t make sense to me. I don’t understand their purpose, and no matter how hard I try to reason, I can’t convince myself to accept the rationale behind their pervasive use. For me, as a heterosexual female, an engagement ring represents the male claim over the female’s body. Whether the man knows it or not, they are participating in an act that effectively marks their female partner as spoken for or reserved. Engagement rings originated in the 15th century as a symbol of husband ownership over their wives-to-be, and while now they have become grand and romantic gestures of love, I don’t think I can shake off the idea that they were invented to signify possession. Obviously there is a different history of engagement rings for non-heterosexual relationships, but for me the whole ownership narrative is slightly deterring. My friends have told me that they feel engagement rings are a sign of appreciation from the man, for everything that he will not be able to do during the building of their eventual family. They say that from their perspective, the woman will be carry the children, birth the children, and nourish the children, and so it is the least the man can do to buy an engagement ring. My rebuttal to this is a trilogy: Firstly, instead of using money and material possessions to reinforce the established and archaic separation of gender roles, I would like to see the collective cis-male society step over that line and assume some of the roles within the heterosexual family, which would be traditionally assigned to women. That doesn’t mean they have to defy science and birth our children, but taking more time off work after the baby is born, learning to cook and clean, doing the dishes while I sit on the couch and finish my glass of wine after dinner, would all suffice. Second, this feeling that the man has to pay the woman back for what she contributes to the family, puts a lot of pressure on both the male to be the “breadwinner”, and the female to have children and start the family. The man needs to make enough money to buy the engagement ring, which means he has to have a good-paying job and constantly provide financially. Which is I guess, in reality, just those pesky gender roles again. Finally, if he so desperately wants to show me how much he appreciates me and needs to express that with the spending of money, I can think of much better ways to spend the societally agreed-upon three-months’ salary. As I said earlier, I will accept new pets to cuddle, a personal chef, plane tickets, or even a bus pass! But I cannot accept an engagement ring. I understand that the ring is meant to convey deep, undying love, but if my partner needs a ring to do that, and cannot think of a more meaningful or expressive way of showing that, I think we have other issues. To top it all off, there is some pretty dodgy stuff that takes place in order to get that diamond ring on your finger. And not just diamonds; the whole precious metal industry is pretty sketchy, and not really worth it, in my opinion. It would be a bit hypocritical for me to preach environmental vegetarianism, and fair working conditions, and then ask for an engagement ring made with an almost certainly unethically sourced gem. Even the plastic rings in the dollar machines at the movie theater and the Ring Pops from the candy store are probably not the most ethical. Consequently, I think I’ll just stay away from all that for now. So, to my future husband, thank you for reading. And in case you’re wondering, South America is next on my bucket list, and I will also accept white wine or rosés. Also, maybe you shouldn’t even propose at all – in fact, why don’t we really switch things up, and I’ll propose to you? -Amy 4/11/2017 0 Comments Life: Outside the bubbleMy friends at home have been the same since grade 8. We've spent some time together. Actually it's probably easier to count the time we didn't spend together. We have had some of the best, most hilarious moments of my life together and also some of the worst. We get on each others nerves like brothers and sisters but would do just about anything for each other. (Andrew did you hear that? That means you should loan me your cabin for a while....) I think its easy for us to forget about the outside world. We got a taste of it when many of us went away for university. But every summer there we were on Eagle Harbour field, kicking around a soccer ball trying to think of ways to get up to no good in the retirement capital of the world...shoutout to West Van. It was always easiest and a lot of times more fun to morph into this comfortable bubble and chill. I think that’s why travelling felt so outside my comfort zone. I’m not kidding, the drive to the airport I thought I almost thought I wasn’t going to do it. I barely spoke....to the point that my mom quite seriously asked if I actually even wanted to go. I told her I’m just going to make myself get on this plane. And goddammit thank goodness I did.
Because what I’ve learnt is that people are everywhere. Taking nothing away from my friends at home, I’ve realized there are people all over this earth who can crack you up with a shrug of their shoulders. Who can listen and understand you without you even having to explain. The first day we got here we met two girls from Finland and within a three minute conversation we were planning a road trip to Byron. We then hung out with them for about a week in which they morphed from new friends to old friends, the transformation as invisible as our language barrier. Then I came to work at a hostel in Byron Bay. I knew one friend from home here but that didn’t really help with the nerves of having to meet so many new people.But I can honestly say the feeling that I was meeting “new people” lasted roughly three hours. The group I work with and have met here make me feel like I have been here much longer than three weeks. Maybe because in ‘hostel time’ three weeks is a lifetime….but I think it has more to do with how open and hilarious and awesome every single individual is. Coming to understand that there are people like this 11,916 km outside of my little bubble...weirdly makes the world feel smaller. You would think it would make it feel bigger. Finding more and more people, making more and more friends. But it doesn’t. It makes me feel like there will always be a person around to corner to make me laugh, listen to me cry, or help me finish my box of goon. To my friends at home, I miss you greatly and I’ll be back for you, but to my new friends I have met in Australia thanks for making my world a little smaller. Y’all legends. -Leah “WHERE ARE ALL THE STRONG, INDEPENDENT WOMEN?” I exasperatedly whisper to myself, sitting on the floor in between the stacks at the library. The librarian hurries around the corner and tells me to be quiet, but as we antagonistically stare into each other’s narrowed eyes I can tell she feels the same; I saw that pussy hat hanging on the hook behind your desk, and I know that was bell hooks you were reading. You can’t fool me behind your hushing, and your unnerving glares. Fight the patriarchy. Fight the misogyny. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I don't mean to be demanding or fussy, but I am perpetually confused and annoyed that in almost every woman/girl/female centric novel I have ever read, the “happily ever after” always revolves around falling in love with a man! I spend at least two-hundred pages invested in the strong, dynamic, and beautifully dreamed-up female characters, only to find out in the last chapter, that the definitive piece of the happy ending puzzle, is in fact, a man. Why do all these females need a man to make them happy? Why can’t I run off into the sunset on my own – just me, myself and I? (Oh, and my cat please.) Being a woman in a patriarchal world is hard enough, but then you can’t even escape into a book without encountering a plethora of pronounced patriarchy among the pages. It’s not a great message to be sending to all the young women on the precipice of discovering who they are: “Find love and you will find your worth”, it says. For so many girls, myself included, who have experienced intense pressure, imposed on us by society, by families, and by ourselves to find a boyfriend/significant other (cue all my extended family asking “Anyone special, dear?”), a break from that particular encumbrance is always welcome. Don’t get me wrong, I genuinely appreciate and devour stories of star-crossed lovers, love-at-first-sight, and tangled, messy love. It’s exhilarating to be drawn into and wrapped up in the tales of sweeping romance; it makes for successful movie adaptations, and ultimately, it sells. Love stories are beautiful and inspiring, and ultimately a reflection of real-life, albeit through a macroscopic lens. But when you zoom in, there is a difference between needing a romantic someone and wanting a romantic someone. What I really want is a comparable selection of sappy romance novels, AND novels about the adventures and misadventures, the trials and failures, and the dynamic development of a female lead, without the crutch of a tired, overcooked Prince Charming. Until publishers begin searching for and publishing books that prioritize the female characters over the love stories, I think we’ve got a bit of a problem. Likewise, the overwhelming presence of heteronormativity in books and the striking absence of queer relationships is unfortunate and, frankly, harmful. The selection of female-lead books without male dependency seems extravagant compared to the handful of books where that female lead is gay, or trans, or bisexual, or gender queer. Because if there is one thing that all women have universally and historically been told by society, regardless of their race, religion, sexuality, or size, it is that we desperately and uncompromisingly need a man to be fulfilled, and to live our best life. It is indoctrinated in our impressionable brains that as long as we identify as girls, our identity will come from finding a man. And it requires a constant process of unlearning to be free of that institution. It is very possible that the lack of queer relationships and disproportionate amount of male-female romance in novels is a purposeful tool specifically used to reinforce the heteronormative ideals which are propagandized by mass media and society. I mean, if a woman is fine on her own, and isn’t searching for, or falling head-over-heels in love with a man, then forget about strong and independent, my god… she might not be straight… in fact, she might be… gay! This suspicion on its own, is enough to get the book removed from far too many libraries and bookstores and out of the hands of curious, developing minds. And I am so not down for that. Honestly, we (and the future generations) deserve so much more than censorship and neutrality on the issues that are integral to our mental and emotional development. I know that the creative brains are out there waiting to write books about strong, independent women who don’t need no man, but now it is imperative that the big publishers and the chain bookstores tell them that their stories are valid. We need children’s books about more than a white boy and his dog. We need stories about a transgender girl and her dream to be an astronaut, and about a basketball playing, hijabi-wearing teenager. We need young adult novels where the males are supporting, rather than essential (if there at all), and we need the stories of every other character you can’t find in the library, but wish you could. In an attempt to defy melodramatic hopelessness, I have compiled a list of novels that I’ve read or have been recommended to me, with female characters that embody strength, integrity, authenticity, and moreover, do not orbit around their romantic interest. They were few and far between on my mind’s proverbial book shelf, however they are so deserving of being read over and over again. Some are classics, and others are lesser known, and although many of them do have a love story, I’ve picked the novels where the woman-identifying character rebels against the conventional plotline and dictates her own story. These women have goals that eclipse their love lives. I’m no Oprah Winfrey or Emma Watson, but here is a short list of picks for my Independent Women ‘book club’: To Kill a Mockingbird - by Harper Lee Another Brooklyn - Jacqueline Woodson The Invention of Wings - Sue Monk Kidd The Secret Life of Bees - Sue Monk Kidd Life After Life - Kate Atkinson The Poisonwood Bible - Barbara Kingsolver The Help - Kathryn Stockett Twelve Tribes of Hattie - Ayana Mathis The Birth House - Ami Mckay The Red Car - Marcy Dermansky The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood The Elegance of the Hedgehog - Muriel Barbery The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency - Alexander McCall Smith The Secret Daughter - Shilpi Somaya Gowda The Paper Bag Princess - by Robert Munsch -Amy 2/23/2017 0 Comments CuRRENTLY...February.
2/18/2017 0 Comments Life: we all need a role modelAt three-years-old I may not have been a fully formed human—but I could certainly recognize the kind of human that I wanted to be. For little Leah Zielke, Belle from Beauty and the Beast was my ultimate “goals”. Pretend games around my house constantly involved recreating scenes from “Be Our Guest”, or spinning around the room singing ~~ tale as old as timmmme~~. I would wander around the house pretending I knew how to read, trying to perfect my ‘Belle with her nose in a book’ look. It went beyond pretend games though. There were aspects of Belle’s personality I began to relate to and recognize as qualities to aspire to. She was smart, she was brave, she was a little weird and she loved to read. I learnt from her that I wanted to be someone who was okay with deviating from the norm and embraced being different. I learnt I wanted to be someone who looks beyond others’ appearances or reputations, and takes the time to get to know people. I learnt I wanted to be someone who would do anything for the people they love. And I learnt I wanted to know how to read. ASAP. All of these qualities can be found in many of the other Disney princesses, however it was Belle who I consistently looked up to. The number one reason for that being: She looked like me. She had brown hair and was White, and because of that I was able to project myself onto her. I could see myself embodying her qualities because I was able to essentially watch myself act them out. Everything she did was something I would one day be able to do; weird brunette girls who love to read could be princesses and I was stoked. Being able to find myself in a Disney princess, or any other kind of childhood hero, didn’t mean I was a normal little girl doing what normal little girls do…. It meant I was a normal little White girl doing what normal little White girls did. At the time that I would have watched Beauty and the Beast there were only two non-white princesses. Jasmine and Pocohantas, however, are not without their problems. Respectively, each provide grossly over-simplified and ‘disneyfied’ renditions of Arab and Native American cultures, and thus all other races besides white were virtually cut from the available princess roster. I really can’t imagine watching every single Disney princess movie and not finding someone who looked like me. I was even lucky enough to have choices: there was Belle or Snow White! I could then decide which I identified with beyond looks and personality! (by a landslide it was Belle). Until 2009 when The Princess and the Frog came out, the reality for Black girls was that no princess looked like them. For Asian girls there was Mulan in 1998, a whole 60 years after the first Disney princess waltzed on-screen. Most disabled characters are seen as villains with hooks, and within the entire Disney franchise there has never been an openly LGBTQIA character. I do think Disney is moving in the right direction, showing an increasing interest in depicting diverse characters but #giveElsaaGirlfriend already! There are so many groups of people underrepresented in the entertainment we consume. So many little girls and boys looking to the T.V. only to see images of princesses and heroes they will never be. But they can be! And our entertainment should reflect that! Disney, Marvel, Universal, and Teletoon ETC have started making progress to fill in the holes of representation, but they are still largely gaping. Imagine if there were as many Asian princesses as there are blonde. Imagine if there was a princess who didn’t look like she stepped off of the Victoria Secret fashion show, or if there was a princess who needed a wheelchair. Imagine if all little kids could look to their entertainment to find the guidance I found in Belle. Keep going Disney -- it’s not yet enough. -Leah |