"Rave On" is the Page Turner series that asks feminist writers, artists, musicians, activists, leaders, and scholars to talk about a book that completely rocked their world. Today we feature illustrator and writer Cristy C. Road on Assata: An Autobiography, by Assata Shakur.
I'm originally from Miami, where I felt frigidly alienated for a billion reasons, many of which were ignited by the republican Cuban-American community, which seems to run the social consciousness of every Cuban community there—despite class, neighborhood, etc. I left when I turned 18 and hung out around northern Florida in the punk rock community, and I felt very alive, but sincerely in denial about a lot of the new prejudices I was seeing in this new territory.
When I was about 20, I began feeling completely isolated from the punk rock community as well. I used a lot of denial-based tactics to feel "sane" back then, because I was so romantic about this community since it had salvaged me from preteen turmoil. As I grew older, it was becoming clearer that there was still sexism and racism clouding the positive effects of punk rock.
A gigantic, Bitch-y thank you to everyone who supported us during our Bitch 500 subscription drive! With your help, we reached our goal of 500 new subscribers/renewals in two weeks! Hooray!
We are so lucky to have subscribers and readers like all of you, who stick by us even during these oh-so-tough economic times. Together, we are keeping independent feminist media alive and kicking (even if we've gotta collectively tighten a few purse strings in order to do it), because we realize that providing a feminist response to pop culture is of the utmost importance. After all, sexist media isn't going to critique itself now, is it?
As ever, our fundraising work is far from over, and if you missed out on joining the Bitch 500 (of if you did in fact join but now find yourself with tons of extra cash, you moneybags, you) there are still lots of ways to support what you love. Make a donation to Bitch Media, become a monthly sustainer by joining our B-Hive, host a Bitch house party, or just show your support by decorating your web page with one of these bitchin' badges!
Whatever you do, we appreciate it. Thank you again for your support! Your efforts are keeping Bitch Media going, so that we can keep the feminist responses coming.
Most of us have that album in our lives, the one that's the instant open doorway to our core. (Mine is Joni Mitchell's Hejira…or is it P.J. Harvey's Dry? Never mind—what's that album for you, Bitch readers?)
Our ardent devotion to that watershed CD is the theme of the new anthology Heavy Rotation: Twenty Writers on the Albums That Changed Their Lives, edited by Peter Terzian. The collection includes fine essays by Sheila Heti (on the Annie soundtrack), Stacey D'Erasmo (on Kate Bush's The Sensual World), Asali Solomon (on Gloria Estefan's Mi Terra), and Colm Tóibín (on Joni Mitchell's Blue).
It also includes Alice Elliott Dark's stunning essay, "The Quiet One," which chronicles her obsession with the Beatles' Meet the Beatles! and George Harrison that intensified at a pivotal, tragic point in her girlhood. Page Turner interviewed Dark about writing "The Quiet One"; truth-telling in fiction versus nonfiction; sexism and the boy bands; Beatle wives; and why she abandoned her belief in pop culture.
I had asked y'all to send me your burning relationship questions and quandaries, and in response I got this:
What's do I do about defriending my now-ex? Do I leave him in friend
limbo, or should breaking up automatically equal defriending? I haven't
even taken down the "in a relationship with" line because it's only
been a week and I just can't deal with everyone knowing yet.
The newspaperman, and newspaperwoman, have long captured the American imagination – and reporters, anchors, and even photojournalists have served as the protagonists in comics, animation, television and film.
As a woman writer and pop culture herstorian I can't help but be drawn to places in pop culture where women and journalism intersect – and that means I absolutely adore Lois Lane.
She is not the first woman reporter in popular culture, but Lois is likely the most recognizable – and certainly the longest lasting in the American cultural consciousness, having debuted alongside Superman and Clark Kent in 1938.