An Evolution

I read through some of the earlier entries on the blog and I am feeling many ways.

I'm part upset with myself for some of the things I said, particularly the things about people always calling or looking for racism and the like, which is basically the exact opposite of how I feel now. Now, I feel like various forms of discrimination should be hunted down and corrected, of course in conjunction to using critical thinking and deductive reasoning.

I'm also surprised at how I talked about God. In one post, dated almost a year ago, I said I believed. Now? If I were to be honest with you, that wouldn't be my answer.

The change, even within the past year, is so surprising. I'm scared to show people, scared that they'll think I'm a hypocrite. However, there is something else to be learned. While I could benefit from a consistency of thought and belief, that's not how things work out for me. I, apparently, am constantly changing and evolving. I appreciate where I am now because I feel it is a much better place and I have a better grasp on who I am.

I'm not sure exactly where this places me, nor am I sure that the blog will look the same a year from now, but it was still interesting to see the development.

Going to the Ladies' Room

If I walked into a women's public restroom, I'd get stares and there'd be a possibility of screams and me being arrested. But why?

I'm not sure when, but at some point, the idea of gender separate bathrooms stopped making sense. We poop and pee; those things are pretty universal. Women change tampons and pads in bathrooms. That covers all the physiological stuff. Women are said to gossip and put on make up, while men are as stoic as ever. Yet, I'm not sure all these reasons justify separate bathrooms.

There is most definitely the issue of age and safety. Some people do not feel safe sending their children into restrooms with people of the opposite sex. However, what I've found is that sometimes that doesn't even matter. I heard about a young girl in my hometown getting raped in the bathroom of a Mexican restaurant. I highly doubt that the restrooms were unisex, as that isn't a very common thing here. Does that mean the man dragged her to the men's room? Did he follow her into the ladies' room? Was I misinformed and was there no bathroom at all? While safety is an issue, I'm not sure it does us any good to separate genders for fear that someone will be raped, when the chances are still likely.

You can argue that, with protection of others in the bathroom, it is much less likely to happen. But what about the bystander effect, where people will stand by while something bad happens to someone? What if you go in a public restroom alone? There are many times I walk into the restroom at my university and I'm by myself. Hell, I've sat on the toilet for minutes without someone coming in. That would be a prime time for attack, regardless of gender separation in bathrooms or not.

Another issue of safety is that we often view sexual abuse in male-aggressor and female-victim dyads, forgetting it can work in the other way. Under this assumption, both little boys and girls are vulnerable. There is some mediation as far as parents going in the bathroom, but I'm not sure any circumstance is 100% preventable. Yet, we cannot assume that men or women will become raping machines in unisex bathrooms, nor can we pretend that their hormones will overpower them and they'll be having sex all over the place (which can still happen in gender separated bathrooms).

The best case scenario arises in private restrooms. There's no reason for single stall bathrooms to be separated. Often, the difference is condom machines in men's restrooms (or maybe women's too, not sure, I don't go in there), little boxes for tampons and pads, and diaper changing stations (which can be found in some men's restrooms, too, not just women's). In private restrooms, we might as well have two separate unisex bathrooms rather than two gender separated bathrooms.

Also, it is most important to talk about accessibility. Transgender people face discrimination in that, if they look a certain way, regardless of how they feel or, in undergoing sex reassignment, what stage they're in, people can still question it and deride them for choosing one bathroom or another. Unisex bathrooms help alleviate some of this pressure. While they may still be judged, they will have a space to use the restroom that is not dictated by a particular gender's space. Thus, unisex bathrooms have a social value as well.

Some people in countries with unisex restrooms say there is no issue. I believe that, had someone in the world's past not advocated for strict separation of genders, I wouldn't even be making this blog post. We'd accept it as another thing that's part of our society. Then, I may still be asking, as I am today, in essence, 'Why are things the way they are?'

An undercurrent to this post is 'who gets to pick the status quo? when do we decide that it is a good status quo?' I'm not really sure. This has just been something on my mind.

Colorblind

I'm not sure if I've covered this topic before, but it's worth covering again.

I read a story once about a feminist conference. There was a White man, a Black woman, and a White woman. If I remember correctly, the Black woman asked the White woman, 'When you wake in the morning, what do you see?' to which the White woman responded, 'A woman.' The Black woman followed with, 'I don't. I wake up and see a *Black* woman.' The Black woman didn't and many women of color *don't* have the privilege of just waking up and seeing just a woman. Their color is forever tied to their identity. It is as such for many people. I wake up and see a gay Black man. For many, their various identities all surface in a mirror.

There are those who support colorblind policies and approaches to social problems. 'We are all the same; we are all equal; I do not see color or sexual orientation, I see a human being.' Problem is, even though we are all human beings, we all have identities. What being colorblind does is erase those identities in the attempt to unify us as a collective. On the surface, this looks awesome. However, especially as it stands right now, colorblind approaches only serve to erase and negate the trouble history people associate with their identities, the history attached to various identities, and the barriers people without privilege face.

Now, we all operate under *some* privilege. I don't really believe that there are people with zero privilege, as it is a very contextual thing. But, if we were suddenly to switch to a colorblind style of life, the privileges that were set before the colorblindness will stay set. Problems will not be solved. It will effectively usher in a new era that says, 'Whatever happened in the past is in the past,' forgetting that some people have scars dealing with the past. For example, White people are considered to hold most of America's wealth. In a colorblind world, this would stay the same, leaving others at a disadvantage, unless the wealth was redistributed, which I'm not sure would indicate a truly colorblind world if we acknowledge that there is a gap in wealth among different demographics.

I call myself an idealist, yet I cannot go along with this colorblind approach. We have to fix problems before we are able to call everyone equal, because everyone, most assuredly, is not equal based on how things were and how things are going.

Too Much

There is an article circulating on Twitter about how, and I shit you not, 'Black women are less attractive than women of other races and Black men are more attractive.'

The real title: Why Are Black Women Rated Less Physically Attractive Than Other Women, But Black Men Are Rated Better Looking Than Other Men?

And don’t worry, that’s just a silly edit. The original title didn’t have the qualifier of ‘rated.’ So, if you have to edit a title to make it more acceptable, should you have posted it in the first place? That is not today’s message or inquiry, but it’s one that stands.

A lot of the Black women I follow were outraged, and justifiably so. They were just told by someone’s ‘research’ that they are not as attractive as other races. Really? To add insult to injury, Psychology Today is responsible for publishing the article (I sincerely hope it does not make it to print). This is not a singular thing. Kanazawa makes a lot of claims that are considered ‘research.’

Then I go on to read an article about the horrors of ‘Power Bottoming’ by a man who obviously knows a lot about gay sex. Now, don’t get me wrong, the more straight men know about gay sex, the better, because then I won’t get asked dumb ass questions. However, it *always* looks a bit suspect when someone decries something as abhorrent from a Christian perspective then gives you a detailed and bulleted list about it.

Both of these articles, and some of the responses that came out of them, are deplorable. Usually I can fight such things with an angry passion, but today, I was just sad. I was sad that some Black people made racist comments about Asian people as a result, that some Black men told the angry Black women that they should just ignore it or move on or that it reflects their self-esteem, that my sexual orientation was seen as evil and that I was told that I prefer to submit to people as a bottom and a Black gay man (yeah, go find out if that’s true or not).

I’m tired of this bullshit. I’m tired of feeling alone in wanting things to change. I’m tired of people not crossing lines to take up arms against things like this (Where are my White brothers and sisters blasting the article about Black women? Where are my Black brothers and sisters whenever my sexual orientation is called evil?). We are incredibly insular when it comes to social change, and I’m fighting within myself to not be so.

I don’t want my sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins, friends, nor any strangers, to believe that they are ‘ugly’ or ‘less attractive’ simply by virtue of their race. I don’t want anyone to grow up with the message that sex is dirty and so are gay men. I’m tired of men being able to shirk responsibility because they are men, but at the same time be called sexual beings who can only think with their dicks.

Do you not see what is wrong about all this? Stop focusing on your singular existence. That is a message to you and to me.

The (Perceived) Homogeneity of Nerd Culture

I love Socially Awkward Penguin. Upon refreshing the meme for myself, I noticed something: the ones that have any sort of gender reference are typically male and heterosexual. Interesting.

It made me think, 'This isn't the only place that happens.' We see it all the time: Big Bang Theory features 4 intelligent and nerdy men who love nerdy things. All the women... Well, they don't. Even cute little Amy Farrah Fowler, immensely intelligent but not current mention of a love of nerd culture thus yet.

I'm going to harp on this forever, because it, will probably be an issue as long as I live. I am constantly questioning the way things are, typically in favor of women, Black people, and the LGBT community. Admittedly, I need to expand my scope, because there are plenty of people who do not have representation in common (older people, various racial minorities, the physically disabled, etc). Yet, nerd culture is still typically seen as something that 'belongs' to the nerdy White, straight male.

People wonder why Gaymer or Nerd Girl culture exists, typically straight males. Well, from my perspective, and I know I've said this before, it's because there is typically not a space made for anyone but White, straight males in nerd culture. It gets to the point where you keep talking about it and people don't listen, or you get fed up and deal, as if this helps change the status quo.

I have friends that do make this space for me as a gay Black man. I can name plenty of White, straight nerdy men who are more than accommodating, and I love them for it. These men are what I wish everyone, including myself, was like because they are so inclusive. However, not everyone is like this. Not everyone is okay with making a character in a movie Black because it's not how things are in comics, and not out of hate, but they don't realize the effect that white/straight/able/youngwashing in movies does to those who are not in the majority. They're lost in their own sense of nostalgia and fear of change, and they're the ones who get marketed to in general and non-token ways (aka Black characters don't have to have the word Black in their name).

Currently, I am at a loss of how to handle it. I don't always take the opportunity to educate people, or let them know that their issues with Heimdall being Black because he's White in the comics is alienating. I need to learn to step up.

My bottom line is: Nerd culture is NOT just White, straight men, but too many people treat it as such, leaving those on the outside alienated, left to deal with a status quo that does not always acknowledge them or can effectively render them invisible.

Meet Cute

So, I said I'd blog about how Z and I met :)

Well, first, we lived in the same dorm. He was a Freshman and I was a Junior. Some of the earlier details are random, like me adding him on Facebook, holding the door open for him on his birthday after we had both just come from the club (separately) and studying in the dorm lobby while he was hanging out with his friends. After a while, any thought of a relationship was out the window because I thought we were too different (I won't use the adjectives he uses whenever we go over this period in time).

It really started with yoga. I was dealing with a rather stressful relationship, so I went to yoga every week to help relieve the stress. Z was also there every week, and that's when I really started to notice how cute he was, and that he was a different person than what I had first thought. Eventually, me and my boyfriend at the time broke up, and Z and I started to talk via Facebook more often.

At the same time, a mysterious person started sending me Honesty Box messages. I clung to them because I love attention and I was lonely. Anywho, my first guess was actually Z, but he kept denying it (mm hmm). A bit more of the semester goes by and eventually we get together to watch a movie. The kicker is that I was a PA for his group of Honors freshman, although he wasn't in my particular small group, so we couldn't date. All we could do was hang out.

Thus, we hung out until the semester was officially over, and, two years ago today, we became an official couple :)

Death and Rejoice

When Fred Phelps dies, I'm not going to lie to you and say I won't be happy. I'm not going to cover it up with a euphemism and say I'm relieved. I will be glad that one of the most hate-mongering voices of our time is gone. I wasn't sad when Jerry Falwell passed either.

With Osama Bin Laden's death, many people are rejoicing. Some do so gladly. Others are not so quick to celebrate the end of someone else's life. Personally, I'm not sad. The only reason I'm not happy is because of the implications that could arise from his death (including more terrorist attacks, xenophobia on the homefront, or the sudden surge of patriotism that always seems to indicate so many good things). Yet, because I believe in autonomy, I cannot solely blame one man for spreading an ideal, just like Obama doesn't deserve all the credit in this scenario as he was not the one who singlehandedly found Bin Laden and executed him (unless you know something I don't).

If someone raped or killed my mother, do you think I'd be sad they died? No. I'd call it justice. Yet, that person's family may not call it justice. They may mourn just as I did. I think where this leaves us is a gray area. There is no black and white. We do value some lives over others, as we'd be quicker to save one who shares our genetics or family rather than a complete stranger if given the choice (which can backed up by evolutionary theory, too, the idea that we preserve those who share our genetic makeup for even family members can pass on our genes).

I'm not going to call someone hateful for rejoicing the death of Bin Laden, but nor am I going to completely turn a blind eye. Like I said, we value some lives more than others, based on context and the action of the people who hold those lives. This is one of those situations where I can more easily adopt Eastern philosophy and be okay with holding contradictory views. I can value life, but also believe that justice (and not one served on behalf of a God) can be served in the taking of one's life.

There are many questions left to be answered, yet that I think do not have answers. I think we should take the time to think about where we are and what we feel, but also be brave enough to defend how we feel (without resorting to trolling).

Self-Hatred

Landslide has done it to me again.

Somewhere along the line, I got the message that I'm not supposed to like myself. I am not the default. I'm Black, so I'm not as smart. I'm gay, so I can't get married and I can't be a real man. I don't have a religion, so I'm going to Hell. None of my friends and family ever told me any of this (besides the messages, implicit and explicit, about being gay).

I've had self-esteem issues for a long time, it's just I've learned to hide them well. I had to teach myself what self-love is and what it feels like, no one could do that for me. All my life I've been 'different' from other people, and at some point it really got to me. I honestly felt I couldn't be loved as a gay man because I'm Black, that I couldn't be accepted by anyone because I'm Black and gay. There are days where I don't wake up loving myself. Why do you think I care so much about my appearance?

Because if someone loves the outside, maybe, just maybe, they'll love the inside.

We live in a country and a world where we have to teach ourselves to love ourselves. Self-acceptance is an elusive goal. We are constantly being told that if something was different, we'll be more accepted. If I could just wear better clothes, if I could be smarter, if I could be White, if I could be straight, if I could be Christian: if I could, then someone would love me. Right?

I don't know how many of you grew up with these messages, or if you did at all. But I did, and it's taken a lot of work to get around them, but to also make sure that I didn't do the same to anyone else. When I was 12, I made fun of a girl for having big lips (which is all sorts of ironic). Then a bunch of boys one day came up to me to tell me I'm gay, eventually passing around a petition, signing their names, as another declaration of the fact. I've been on the receiving and giving ends.

I'm writing from an emotional state, so I feel a bit all over the place, but my point stands. At one point or another, I've hated myself. That's no way to live, and sometimes this is no world to live in.

Implicit

I'm going to get into some trouble for this one, but that is neither here nor there.

I believe that racism, sexism, homophobia, ableism, ageism, and all those various isms exist. I mean, I'm Black and gay; to not believe in such things gives real credence to the idea that 'ignorance is bliss.' However, all of these forms of discrimination have taken on another form. One that is not easy to discover, see, or understand. One that is constantly defended as a natural part of our status quo. These are all implicit, institutionalized, quiet, and sometimes 'innocent.'

Racism today does not look like racism of 50 years ago. Homophobia has seeped into our language in seemingly benign ways. Now you have to dig for them. However, trouble arises in that, when you dig, sometimes you think you've found something significant when it isn't, or other times people don't accept your message.

'This is the way things are,' or 'It was all innocent,' or the very common, 'It was a joke. Lighten up!' I see this especially among video game players and comic fans. Many people turn a blind eye to the extreme lack of representation of various minority groups and women, or benignly accept how these people are portrayed. And let someone raise awareness to this fact; if you do so, you have a veritable shitstorm on your hands for 'Making race an issue' or 'Looking for things that aren't there.'

Some of this is based on perception. Sometimes, if you don't see it, you just don't. However, that's why the implicit nature of these forms of discrimination is dangerous. If you don't question, you don't find anything. When you do question, you find more than what is there. But it is these same forms of implicit discrimination that is at the root of the belief that Black men are lazy, women aren't as strong as men, and the idea that comics and video games are for boys. We accept these as our daily life, not bothering to wonder if things could be better. Nor do we question how we help sustain such deplorable systems.

I have a feeling people are always going to tell me I'm looking for things that aren't there. I don't care. I'd rather be wrong some of the time than to lower my awareness when it comes to forces within our society that do us no justice (and often affect the justice system) and that support the idea that, based on different characteristics, some people are lesser or some things are only for some people.

ABCs of Gaming!

Here we go! A change from the usual social awareness stuff :)

A – Angry Birds

B – Bayonetta

C – Chrono Trigger

D – DDRMax2

E – Elite Beat Agents

F – Final Fantasy XIII

G – Gardening Mama

H – Hercules

I – Inu Yasha: The Secret of the Cursed Mask

J – Just Dance 2

K – Kingdom Hearts

L – Legend of Mana

M – Marvel Ultimate Alliance

N – Ninja Gaiden

O – Oddworld: Abe’s Odyssey

P – Pokemon

Q - Qbert

R – Robopon

S – Super Scribblenauts

T – Tatsunoko vs Capcom

U – Unlimited Saga

V – Virtua Fighter

W – The World Ends with You

X – X-men: Mutant Academy

Y – YuGiOh! World Championship 2004

Z – Zombies Ate My Neighbors!

Nothing

I call myself nothing because religion nor atheism, often considered the two opposing poles in belief systems, can answer questions. Yet, I am scared to call myself 'Nothing' because people will force labels on me. They'll tell me I really believe in God, or that I'm not a real atheist, though this is the closest to what I am by choice.

I am nothing because I don't know how hate can exist and people can justify it with God and say that it is plan, though I respect and admire those whose faith remains strong in God, Allah, or whomever despite such pain, strife, and struggling among those who share our genus and species.

I am nothing because I choose to be nothing. I am quieter with no voices talking, with no searching but that which takes place in the journey I am willfully embarking on to improve my life and, by extension, improve the lives of others.

I am Nothing. Forever, I will tell you I am Nothing.

Nothing provides answers, and, even within its amorphous cloud, provides solace.

Landslide

Writing this as I fulfill my Research Assistant duties. I can't get it off my mind.

Last night's Glee featured Santana 'coming out' (I use quotes because Santana doesn't want to be labelled) to Brittany and expressing her love for her. She bared her soul and talked about her fear of what people would think about her if she and Brittany were together. How could that not hit home?

They sang the song 'Landslide' together, and whether you are a child of the Fleetwood Mac or Dixie Chicks version, it's still a beautiful song. For a long time, it's meant a lot to me, but I never knew why. So, maybe I'll give it meaning.

For one, it speaks to me because it talks about change. Sometimes I am okay with change. I, like John Mayer, and readily 'Waiting on the World to Change.' I want things to be better for me. I want to legally marry Z wherever the hell we are one day and have the same legal benefits. I also want the world to be better for others. I don't want my little sisters to fall into the gender socialization of girls and women because I hate it; I want them to be stronger, and I want to create a world that more readily and willingly enables girls and women to be strong. I want my transgender brothers and sisters (forgive me if concrete gender terms are not appropriate here) to have the same benefits as me, for it is a shame how we treat them. There are a lot of things I want.

However, this song carries another great importance: I was listening to it around the time I was dealing with my own sexual orientation. Living in the South with religious parents doesn't make an easy time for trying to deal with and accept your sexuality. I didn't know who to talk to or where to go. In some ways, I am still dealing with accepting my sexual orientation today. I feel like I cast the image that I'm comfortable with it and that I'm confident in it. Sometimes I am. But other times I'm still scared to talk about it with people I don't know, because I'm scared they may judge me. I've been scared of going to hell, and I've been scared of losing my parents, my friends and my family.

I have been scared of changing because I've built my life around different things. My family, my friends, and God at one point. For me, being gay brought a fear of what would happen to me. What would I lose?

This song has always brought out some pretty strong emotions for me, and I'm not always sure why. The aforementioned things could be it, or it could be something nameless and ambiguous, but still powerful. The thoughts and feelings above just happen to relate.

I think, maybe, a Landslide has already happened. I'm not sure if I've re-invented myself, grown, or both. I can say that I'm in a much better place, and I want to try to create a space that is even better in the future. Change is sometimes a very scary thing for me, and the anxiety that comes from changing is something worth conquering rather than trying to escape.

Pretty _____ Rock

Do the Pretty ____ Rock. Now what's yo name?

On the surface, this song is a manifesto for all the Pretty Girls everywhere. Stand up! Be heard! I'm pretty! This premise I have trouble with. It places much weight and importance on being Pretty, which is not something everyone has but it's something that we are told to aspire to, more directly to girls but more covertly to boys (which I think is an especially insidious form of broadcasting a message for many reasons). However, I think there's something more to be said.

If looked at another way, this song is saying Stand up! Be heard! I am _____ and I am fucking proud. Where once I'd ask you not to take it away, now I'm telling you you won't take it away. In the immortal words of Ephie White: And I am telling you I'm not going.

Everyone deserves a manifesto like this. Kanye gets one for assholes and douchebags. Keri gets one for Pretty Girls. Where's my anthem for being Black? For aspiring to be a good man? For being a Gay man? I know some of these songs are out there, and if you know any, PLEASE send them my way. In the meantime, use the blank I have provided for you. Insert whoever you are and however many 'who's there are (I may post on this idea, aka multiple social identity).

I think it'd be cool to stand there, together, wherever 'there' is, united and strong. White. Black. Gay. Transgender. Bisexual. Hispanic. Asian. French. Arabic. Jewish. Disabled. Young. Old. Man. Woman. Adult. Child. Whoever.

Why don't we capitalize on the opportunity to find ourselves beautiful, or, for the purposes of this post, Pretty? We don't all have the chance. I wish we did. Everyone deserves to feel like a Pretty ______, provided there are exclusions. I'm working from idealism here, and I know that, but I stand by it.

Beautiful

This was a comment on Yahoo Answers in response to a question asking whether or not atheists are grateful for their lives. The original question is rather patronizing, misinformed and presumptuous in all of the wrong ways. It is reproduced here.

"Grateful" is a synonym for "thankful". Are atheists ever thankful they were born human? That they were born intelligent? (because let's face it...atheists ARE intelligent...albeit misguided) That they were born TALENTED?

Are they THANKFUL? And if they ever feel that thankfulness, who exactly is it they're thanking? Because being thankful means you WANT TO THANK somebody...the same "somebody" whom you so cavalierly describe as "an invisible sky friend".

Are you ever thankful...EVER...when an IMPOSSIBLE situation for you suddenly, and for no apparent reason, turns out okay, even if you "don't believe" in this "invisible sky friend"?

However, this particular response is beautiful. Why can't more people see the world this way?

I feel and notice that theists and atheists have basically all the same experiences in life. Theists assume they have a very different life because of their theism. Atheists assume they have a very different life because of their atheism. Each side assumes they are living a far superior live. But here's the truth: no matter which way you go--theist or atheist--you remain human, all human, and nothing but human. You live a human life, with all the possible joys and miseries that go with that. No human can escape being human. Theists and atheists are not really different, no matter the fact that both sides are generally very sure that they are very different. But that is just all vanity, illusions, smoke and dust.

Power Sets

So, in a discussion with @GameTavernNews on Twitter, I told him my possible power sets for a hero (undoubtedly based on myself :D). Here they are!

1) Flight, telepathy, empathy and energy blasts

These powers might better be explained as the synthesis of two parents' powers. The father is able to manipulate energy and the mother has high level psychic abilities (telepathy). He inherited both powers from his parents and flies using energy manipulation (pushing the energy under him a la Dragonball Z [see: Gohan teaching Videl how to fly]). His brother inherited powers more from the father, but that manifest as teleportation (he can transform things into energy and he is able to "manipulate" the location of the resultant energy).

2) Flight, hard light construction/manipulation

The flight works here by using light energy. The hard light comes from taking this energy and making it visible and tangible. The user is able to create only one shape (an eight pointed star) but eventually learns to make other shapes. He can also manipulate the forms to create shields around objects and people. These hard light forms also take on offensive capabilities in that they can be willed to explode on contact or by delayed reaction (expansion of the light energy)

3) Visible psychic energy

I imagine the color to be blue, more than likely for a hero named Blue. These visible psychic powers manifest as telekinesis and telepathy. Energy surrounds objects, much like Lantern Corps energy to move them. Telepathy works by energy connecting to another organism's brain to enable communication or allow the user to control the organism. He is able to use this visible energy to make forcefields and is also able to propel bolts of energy as an offensive technique.

Race and Superheroes

I couldn't let this sit.

I read a ComicVine forum on some people being upset that John Stewart wasn't the Green Lantern for the upcoming movie. According to the quotes posted, some people thought a white man shouldn't be cast. Why? Well, they were accustomed to the Justice League cartoon, which featured John Stewart rather than Hal Jordan. I loved it; it was nice seeing a Black man as one of my favorite heroes. However, I like most of the GLs, save for Guy Gardner, so I would have been happy with any of them.

The question proposed by the article/forum was: Does race matter in casting superheroes? And, even as fired up as I am right now, I can only say yes and no.

I think some of the comments brought up good points in that some heroes like Storm and Black Panther shouldn't have race changes in other media because their race is integral to their identity. I would argue the same for Echo, Psylocke, Banshee, and the Huntress as their races or ethnicities are an integral and evident part of their personalities and characterization. However, others, like the Trinity for DC, may not change based on the race of the actor/actress portraying them.

I think there could be a Black Superman, Batman, or Wonder Woman. I don't see much in their histories that absolutely says they must be portrayed by a white character. I'm not clear on Amazons in Greek mythology and what ethnicity they're supposed to be, but I would just assume Greek. I think there are many characters whose race is just a matter of fact issue rather than an important part of their identity.

One of the big issues I had with some of the comments was that the assumption that if a character is Black, White, Asian, Hispanic, etc. it shouldn't be changed. As I said before, I think race is integral for some characters. However, I think this assumption promotes the whiteness of superheroes. I harp on this a lot, but a majority of superheroes are White, male, and straight. As comic fans, we should not be so scared of change that we promote ideas like this which perpetuate the status quo. "Don't change what I love!" seems to resound from some fans on many situations, race included. I wonder, though, what a drastic "diversity upheaval" would do.

Of course, this means that minority characters can be portrayed by white actresses and actors if I'm using this logic (which doesn't sit well with me because there is a much smaller number of minority characters by comparison). So, I wonder what this would do, to see a cast of superheroes that is typical an arrangement of different minorities in the comics but primarily white in other media. I'm trying to give thought as to the other side, but I do not promote this idea. I don't think it's racist or discriminatory to try to make typically white characters other races in different media if it does not drastically alter the character, but making typically minority characters white only seems to support a status quo and is a reflection of whitewashing.

This is a hot issue, or maybe I'm deluding myself. But, like I said, I just couldn't sit on this without saying something.

Thanksgiving

You may wonder why I have so much trouble with faith and religion. I've been lucky. My parents aren't the poster children for acceptance, but my mom is on the way and my dad may be, too. I have way more than just one family. I have the love of my life. I have these and so many other things. I am lucky, but I feel like believing in God because I have been lucky is selfish.

Why did he choose to bless me when there are many other people who long for even one of the things I have listed? I wouldn't want to give up my life for a harder one, but I know I could have had one. I don't know if God favors me. I'd be sad if he did because there are whole countries full of people who deserve for more but get far less than I do.

I saw two wrecks on the way to see my family last night. I knew that some family is going to have a less happy Thanksgiving than if the wrecks had not happened. I get a happy Thanksgiving, and some people may not even get one.

I want a spot at my table for people who can't travel, who are separated from their families, who may not have families. I want people in the world to feel about their lives the way I do about mine, good or bad.

I'm thankful for so much. To whom? I'm not sure. I just know that I'm grateful and I need to show it. Maybe one day I can give someone a Thanksgiving dinner, metaphorically or literally, when they otherwise wouldn't have one.

Find something to give thanks for.

Why This Still Matters

As I sit at my desk, I get a wonderful, thought provoking idea that I cannot pass up. Thank God my advisor does not have much to put on my plate today; I (more or less) have the opportunity to get this off my mind.

I did my senior thesis on comic books (Social Interest and the Supervillain). There were some points where I felt I should have done something different. Why? Well, because I felt I was doing the Black and the gay community a disservice by not focusing the best chance to funnel my academic skill and resources (thesis) into a project relating to one or both of these demographics. Again, why? Must I always promote the progression of the Black or gay or Black and gay community? Must my efforts always go toward goals of any of these communities? Where, if there is any, is there room for me to express my passions and desires as an individual rather than a member of a group? The answer is complicated.

My Theories of Psychotherapy book mentioned a quote from one of the author's patients, which basically outlined the pressure for Black academicians to take up arms in a Black cause or promote Black history. The client felt that he could not pursue his passion, History, without being called a traitor by not focusing on Black issues. He then asked his counselor if he ever felt that pressure as a White male. The counselor replied that no, he did not feel that pressure.

So, now, in my first semester of grad school, why am I burning with the passion to do something for Black people, LGBT people, LGBT people of color, and any disenfranchised group I can get my hands on? First, there is a lack of psychological literature on people in many different demographics. I want this to change. We need to learn how to address the unique problems that many unique people face, all the while keeping in mind that "humans are like all people, some people, and no other person" (forgive me for the misquote). I want to start groups, attend conferences and generally foster inclusion and acceptance of all people.

However, I feel like advocacy and research are my "ticket" in. I will finally be accepted by groups I have never truly felt I fit into (we've covered this). I will make connections with gay people, Black people, and many others and finally feel accepted. I'm doing this out of a desire for the welfare and informed knowledge of other groups, but also out of a need to find acceptance and connection.

I believe that race is still a pertinent issue and will continue to be one, and, no, not because I'm making it one. The day we can all rise up and forget the overt and covert racism, homophobia, sexism, and the many other 'isms of the past and work to undo the damage they have caused is the day I'll give up my fight. There is racism in the gay community. Transgendered people do not find the same level of acceptance that even I do. There is much we need to change and much we need to address.

My Issues with New Avengers

1). Spider-Man and Wolverine: Why do Wolverine and Spider-Man get dual membership in New and the main Avengers? Are they that important? I made the comment that Spider-Man isn't cool. I said that out of anger and I wish Peter Parker was real so I could apologize in person. However, he is not. I don't like him and Wolverine on any Avengers team. I do not like change. To me, there is something about them that is better served in a solo series (Spidey) and with the X-Men (Wolvie). I feel like they are only on the team to generate money because they are popular Marvel characters.

2) Carol has been B-Listed: Again. She deserves a solo title. She deserves to be on the Avengers team. I feel as though she has proved herself and she tried HARD to reinvent herself after House of M. She's also a good and capable leader. So, why is she constantly treated as second in command? Do the other Avengers doubt her that much?

3) The death of Doctor Voodoo: I actually found this a bit disrespectful. A Black man is Sorcerer Supreme, one of the most important parts of the Marvel universe. And (spoiler alert) he just died. Really? People actually DO get upset when prominent minority (sexual orientation, gender, race) characters get killed.

4) The story: Eh. Kinda weak. It didn't draw me in. It was a little confusing and I'm still not sure what happened (the lackluster ending does not help).

5) Issue 6's banner: ONE OF THESE AVENGERS WILL DIE! Just not a fan of this type of teaser.

6) Carol: I'm totally a Carol Danvers fanboy. I cannot lie. But imagine if SHE had tested her mettle in that mystical battle? Or anyone but Wolverine for that matter. I think it would have shown so much more resolve if she, Bobbi, Luke or Jessica had fought the battle. It would have shown so much more character and strength if one of these characters had fought. But no, Wolverine fought the freaking battle.

I know I got all rant-y, but the last issue had me a little upset. I'm leaving myself open to a bit of criticism, and I feel I must be prepared for any comments that may arise. I just wish this title was better, though I don't know what better means :/

Prologue - NaNoWriMo

On a whim, I decided to do NaNoWriMo. I think it'll be fun :) Here's the prologue to my story! Tentative title is: Struck. I sincerely hope it's not as sucky as I feel it is.

Prologue

I always considered our world to be “normal.” There is a reason that superheroes don’t exist. There is a reason that all of my fantasies about being a superhero won’t come true. There are times when I’m so lost in them, I can feel the power surges. I can feel the rush of adrenaline when I think of saving the world or fighting a random villain causing mass chaos in my general vicinity. However, my fantasy stops. I am still in the real world. I’m not going to get superpowers.

So, watching the news with my boyfriend, I never expected this day to come. There had been news of a meteor potentially crashing down to earth. What did I think? Was my life going to be all Deep Impact or something? No. As far as I know, the meteor is going to land somewhere in Africa. Yes, it is the motherland, but I’m not particularly concerned about the crash site. Maybe there was a tribe living there; maybe animals; maybe an expanse of wilderness. However, I am too disconnected to use any of my empathy or sympathy to care.

We brace ourselves, as little as we need to, for the impact. We don’t know what is going to happen, whether or not the meteor would or could trigger an extinction event. Scientists proposed that the meteor large enough to do damage to the earth where it landed, or was supposed to land. If it happened to land in the ocean, well, crisis averted. It would create minor tidal waves.

So, as we sit on the couch on this boring Thursday night watching “Meteor 2011,” I wonder what change, if any will come. How exactly is my life going to be affected by this? As the meteor grows closer to the atmosphere, a slight apprehension grows in my body. I feel more and more tense as the celestial body gets closer. There are cameras from satellites in space, news crews near the projected site of impact.

“Are you okay?” Jamie asked.

“Yeah?” I wasn’t sure why he was asking that question.

“Well, you don’t really look like you are.”

“Oh.” I must have been grimacing. I straighten my expression. The more we watch the meteor coverage, the more tension I feel, like something was constricting my body. And, when the meteor finally strikes the atmosphere, my eyes fly open. It feels like a shockwave. My ears are ringing and I can feel myself let out a scream, but I can’t hear it or Jamie frantically trying to figure out what’s wrong. I fall to the ground, holding my head. I almost miss the meteor splitting off into five parts. The reporters are speechless for a moment, gathering what to say before reporting what is happening

Between the pain and the awe at the meteorites, I don’t know what to do with myself. However, my body does: everything goes black. I awake less than an hour later, feeling fine. Jamie greets me with a glass of water, an expression of mixed relief and worry on his face. He tells me where the meteors landed; there was coverage from all over the globe. One in Antarctica, Africa, America, Japan, and Turkey.