“On Many Sides,” and What Racist Rhetoric Becomes.

If you haven’t heard the news of what’s happened in the small college town of Charlottesville, Virginia over the last 24 hours, let me give you an update: following the city’s decision to remove Confederate iconography from public property, far-right activists and members of the Ku Klux Klan converged on the University of Virginia’s campus last night, chanting things like, “Blood and soil,” and, “You will not replace us,” in an attempt to supposedly, “start standing up for [their] history.” The rally was condemned by many city officials (and University of Virginia officials) as a “cowardly parade of hatred, bigotry, racism, and intolerance.” A state of emergency was declared by the governor of Virginia after fighting broke out with counter-protesters, and this afternoon, a speeding car rammed into a group of counter-protesters, injuring at least 19, and leaving one person dead. Following this, Donald Trump told reporters: “We are closely following the terrible events unfolding in Charlottesville, Virginia. We condemn in the strongest possible terms this egregious display of hatred, bigotry and violence on many sides, on many sides.”

You can read more at: http://www.cnn.com/2017/08/12/us/charlottesville-white-nationalists-rally/index.html

The news is still rolling in, but let’s get one thing straight. When a white nationalist runs a car into a group of counter-protesters, it is not about hate “on many sides.” It is, however, an excellent example of the kind of acts that white supremacists have engaged in to silence, terrorize, and kill people of color in this country for centuries. Or, in other, more accurate terms: terrorism. The false equivalence by Trump of this notion of “many sides” is just another distraction from his refusal to condemn white supremacy — and yet another example of the kind of rhetoric that has emboldened such people within this country in the last few years. Make no mistake — we were never living in a post-racial society, but the kind of racist and hateful rhetoric peddled by Trump and his supporters is exactly what has given way to such violence.

This is not an issue of free speech. This is an issue of hate speech, and a continued refusal from moderates and the right to call these white nationalists exactly what they are: Nazis. If it talks like a Nazi, salutes like a Nazi, kills like a Nazi — well, I don’t think it’s exactly out of line to call a thing what it is.

Take a look at the images above. Nazi salutes. Cars driven into those who dare to stand against hateful words and actions. These are not long-dead images of the past — they are images of a hateful present, where racism, xenophobia, hatred, and bigotry are not only alive and well — they’re flourishing.

To my fellow white people: we cannot stand idly by while white supremacists terrorize and murder people of color. We must denounce acts of racism, no matter how big or how small. Call out your friends, your family, your neighbors — ruin Thanksgiving if you have to. We cannot let hateful, intolerant, or ignorant words slide, because the images you see above? These are what they become. There is no “not taking a side” on issues like this. To refuse to stand against oppression is to accept it, and to accept it is to encourage it. Remember seeing images of a hateful past in history class and thinking to yourself, “If I were alive back then, I would have done something”? You are alive right now. The fight is right now. This is your time to do something.

So do something.

#AestheticGoals

Lately, I’ve been dealing with a lot of issues relating to self identity — and there are a lot of heavy aspects within that. Let’s be honest, though: this blog has gotten pretty heavy in the last few months, so I’m aiming to make this entry a little bit lighter. I’d like to talk about my personal aesthetic — both how it’s perceived, and how I want it to be.

Growing up, I’d like to think that my aesthetic was very much along the lines of Hermione Granger — an insufferable know-it-all bookworm. As I grew older, though, I started to identify more with Harry Potter — a brash idiot with a hero complex. And maybe people would have come to view my aesthetic as such, if it hadn’t been for one thing: I dyed my hair pink in the summer of 2015.

Now, don’t get me wrong: I adore my pink hair. I like that I get to engage in activities that I didn’t allow myself to when I was younger (like dressing up in ridiculous ball gowns), because I considered them to be “too girly” (an internally misogynistic idea I’ve since abandoned). I like that people now tell me I’m “graceful” — a sentiment that (sadly) probably never would have applied to brunette Marina (and which I still don’t fully believe to be true). I like that I get to reblog and pin all those delicate ~aesthetic~ posts on Tumblr and Pinterest without feeling like a complete fraud. But I’m frustrated that I feel backed into a corner on the way I’m allowed to be viewed.

Don’t get me wrong — I love the association with Disney Princesses like Ariel and Cinderella that I’ve cultivated in the last couple of years. But goddammit if I don’t want an epic stage combat experience like the one I got to witness in Macbeth — a solid five minutes of sword fighting that ended in a violent beheading. I mean, I could probably do without the beheading, but as an actor I’d love to play a character who engages in some sort of heroic quest or battle. To an extent, I had the opportunity to do that as the character of Olivia in John Perovich’s work unexpected. Olivia was essentially a female version of Orpheus. She was an independent character who didn’t wait around to get what she wanted — she went after it, to the extent of following her lover to the Underworld on, well, a heroic quest. And while I loved playing her dearly, let’s be honest: there aren’t a ton of female roles like Olivia out there. But I want there to be.

People always ask me why I dyed my hair pink. There are a number of reasons that led up to the specific event, but I know for a fact that I’d wanted pink hair as early as the age of 5, when my older sister showed me an anime series called Revolutionary Girl Utena. The amount of anime series I’ve watched could be counted on one hand, and while I returned to this series later in life, I still have yet to finish it (though I know most plot details of later seasons). The series is widely regarded as an excellent deconstruction of tropes found in the magical girl genre, but what always stuck with me was the very concept of the series: a young princess is saved by a prince, and she in turn dedicates her life to becoming a prince so she can save other princesses herself. I wanted to be the hero then, and I want to be the hero now. I can’t tell you how many times I ran around on the playground playing Zelda (who had conveniently been bumped up to hero from significant side character/romantic interest).

Strong female role models in media are important for women and girls to see throughout their lives. And while I love many powerful side characters, I want to see ourselves as the heroes of the story. I want to see more Sailor Moons, more Utenas, more Imperator Furiosas, more Mako Moris, more Thirteenth Doctors, more Wonder Women — more Olivias!

I’ll never pass up my poofy dresses and pink hair — the princess aesthetic is part of who I am these days. At the same time, though, so is my desire to be a sword-wielding badass magical girl hero. There doesn’t need to be a dichotomy — women (and men!) can be both. I think our growing ability to shift our perspective on the kind of heroes women are allowed to be will only serve to give us more heroes in media that little girls and grown women alike can look up to. We don’t need to be saved anymore — we can be the heroes. And we deserve to be seen as such.