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10 Reasons to love One Day At A Time

Author:
oneday

By Sophia Simon-Bashall

I am not someone who watches a lot of TV programmes.

I’ve watched and enjoyed a couple of shows in the past year or so, but I am still more of a movie fan. Nothing, except Orange Is The New Black, has really excited me. Until very, very recently.

At the beginning of 2017, Netflix premiered a new show called One Day At a Time. It’s a remake of a 1975 American sitcom. It could’ve fallen into the trap of nostalgia. It could’ve tried to replicate the original. But it didn’t. It is entirely its own show – merely paying homage to the former incarnation – and it is absolutely brilliant.

You should watch it. Here are ten reasons why:

1. One Day At a Time is centered around one Cuban-American family, all of whom are proud of their heritage. Too often, Latinx representation on screen is marginal, caricatured, and negative. That is not the case here. Where stereotypes are used, they are acknowledged – and either celebrated or gently mocked. In this show the Latinx characters are allowed complexities and contradictions – they are multi-dimensional. They are flawed human beings who are ultimately good and moral. This kind of representation is so important, but especially in the current state of the world.

2. At its core, the show is light-hearted and fun. It is a wonderful relief, and it is impossible not to laugh from your belly whilst watching it.

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3. But it is also unafraid to tackle important issues, and is not neutral in its viewpoint. Across the first series, One Day At a Time talks about refugees and has a key storyline focused on deportation. It touches on these topics with sensitivity and compassion, refusing to perpetuate the dehumanisation and demonisation of migrants and asylum seekers.

4. The teenage girl in the family, Elena, takes ‘social justice warrior’ as a compliment, and is unapologetic about her beliefs.

5. And *SPOILER ALERT*
her coming out is so well done. Coming out is usually depicted as a single moment in time, and it typically has one of two outcomes: either everybody is fine with it (YAY!) or the reaction is extremely negative. This is rarely a reflection of reality. For most of us, coming out is a more continuous process, and that is exactly what One Day At a Time Elena comes out to different people in her life at different points, and each of them have different reactions. She faces several difficulties – most significantly when she tries to come out to her father – but it is ultimately a positive experience. This is encouraging for closeted LGBTQ+ people – far more so than the overwhelmingly positive depictions of coming out, which only cisgender heterosexual folk believe in. What Elena’s journey shows is the truth:
coming out isn’t all rainbows and unicorns, but it isn’t always tragic and traumatic either.

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6. Penelope – the mom – is a veteran who served in Afghanistan, and defies the notion that women cannot be strong and brave and badass. This comes out in so many instances throughout the series, and it is a delight to watch.

7. But she is also allowed to be vulnerable, too. She struggles with PTSD as a result of her time in action, and we witness some of her difficulties with this. What’s heartening is that we also get to see her find a place to help her heal, in a therapy group for female veterans.

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8.Lydia – the abuelita (grandma) – is fabulous. Played by the legendary Latina Rita Moreno, she is hilarious and fun and impossible not to love. Lydia is the heart of One Day At a Time, for sure.

9. Women and the relationships between them are at the forefront. There’s the young teenage boy, Alex, and the neighbour/extended family-member Schneider, but men are otherwise at the periphery. The relationship between Elena and her best friend Carmen is given attention and is shown to be important. The relationships between the three generations of women in the family are shown to be important. The friendship Penelope finds in her fellow female veterans are key to her moving forward in her life. Relationships between women are made to matter, and this matters.

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10. Having a man in the house isn’t portrayed as necessary. When Elena and Sam’s dad walks back into family life, his presence isn’t revealed as the missing piece to the puzzle. Penelope – despite left-over feelings – does not run straight into his arms. In fact, she realises that she is better off without him. The family is strong enough as they are – it may not always be easy but they make it work, one day at a time.

The literature of hope – a new series

Author:
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By Anna Hill

What exactly is hope? And how can we use it to keep going in the face of oppression, fear and trauma? I don’t have a solid answer for the first question (except maybe the words “warm yellow light” like physically, but also in ur soul), and as for the second I think there are a lot or resources that discuss this very topic! In this new series, created in response to my own rising hopelessness (coupled with my mental and physical illnesses) in the face of Brexit, Donald Trump and the continuing rise of fascism throughout Europe, I am going to highlight different texts (including films, books, articles, paintings and so on) that focus on Hope.

To start the series here are some emergency hope pills in the form of a comic, a non fiction book, an article and a twitter thread:

Hope in the Dark by Rebecca Solnit

This book was offered for free after the American election and so has sprung up again, although it was written during the Bush administration (so around 2003/4).

Solnit explores what is powerful about hope and I think its important to cultivate that – even if hope feels like lipstick you don’t like wearing, or an uncomfortable jumper, its in the interest of the political elite [those who benefit and uphold the current structures of power [like Donald trump]] to keep us hopeless. Because without hope there will not be energy or vigour in our protests, in our resistance. You can start with a baby step towards hope, you can start by looking after yourself, by hoping for a kinder world, for justice, for peace.

“Hope is a gift you don’t have to surrender, a power you don’t have to throw away.” – foreward to the third edition, 2015

How To Be Ungovernable

I recently read this article and I thought I would mention it because it’s important – I think I sometimes forget what noncompliance can and does look like, so this was a good reminder. Share the article as much as you can so you can be ungovernable too. Fascism shouldn’t be given a platform and we need to do our best to disrupt and fuck it up as much as we can. It’s amazing how people are organised. You can do this. You. Can. Resist.

This Fuck Theory Twitter Thread

This twitter thread made me do a 180 on my own approach to hope, political action and queer theory! This is, in part, because I am a massive theory dork, especially with queer theory – but anyone who has read queer theory can tell you it’s a pretty dismal world view.

Queer theory hinges on futurity – that is that queerness will only be redeemed in the future, that we will always strive for queerness but never get there and the death drive i.e the will to die – that is such negativity that death and loss and pain are the only queer things and the only pure resistance to heteronormativity that you can put up with. Theory is only useful if it can be used on the streets – but if this theory is used politically on the streets then queer people are in even more danger than usual. Being invested in your own survival and happiness is not “buying into” heteronormativity and capitalism, it’s necessary if you want to stay alive. Glorifying death, loss and horizons is theoretically interesting but in the present day it fucks over a lot of people and discourages them from taking part in politics and imagining a world that we CAN get to that allows more of us to be free and to cared for. Your joy is radical! Cultivate it! Share it!

The Movement by Gail Simone and [readable in full here]

This comic book series is one of the best I have ever read! It has, in true DC fashion, been stopped only 12 issues into the series, HOWEVER, what we do have is wonderful. The comic is about 6 homeless teen vigilantes who care for a neighbourhood in coral city. They call themselves the Movement and are basically fighting against police brutality – the issue starts with a policeman being sexually violent against a young girl, who is then protected by The Movement and who then try to take the policeman and put them on trial on their own court.

The lead members of the movement are a great mix of people (which is basically accuracy tbh) – some of the group are survivors of abuse, some are physically and/or mentally ill, many of them are queer, some are immigrants, some are poor, most of the group are women! The group as a whole is lead by an incredibly powerful, wondrous black girl named Virtue. Plus there is an Aromantic, Asexual character!!! Cannonly!! This is what a resistance team actually looks like! And I think that’s why it gives me such hope – rather than shifting a story of fighting against evil through a white cis middle class straight boy (looking at you Harry Potter), it is a story we can legitimately dream ourselves into. When I wrote my notes on why I loved this I wrote in capital letters: JUSTICE, REVENGE, COMMUNITY. Which I think sums it up nicely!

(As I said this series does start with sexual violence which is alluded to/replayed throughout the first six or so issues – so if you can’t deal with that I would skip this. The comic is also, on the whole pretty bloody and violent, so stay safe and stay away if you need to.)

That’s it from the first instalment of the literature of hope, hopefully some of my fellow PBGers will contribute so we can create a bank of warm yellow light for each other when our own resolves are low.

What gives you hope? Let me know! I’m on twitter @_lily_luna_

Bi Community

Author:
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By Fee Grabow

It took me a really long time to come into my bisexuality. This will sound strange to anyone who knows me because I love being bisexual. But I didn’t always.

And it wasn’t even the usual qualms about the word, how it evokes an extremely sexualized image and stereotypes about greedy, privileged traitors, but also the fact that I didn’t want to be attracted to more than one gender. It was confusing, scary and felt… deviant. It felt dirty to want so much. I felt wrong to want in the way that I did. I didn’t care so much about being called bisexual, I just didn’t want to be bisexual. Even though I have always very casually and freely expressed my desire for people of all genders, there were times and moments when I hated it. I hated my desire.
When I asked myself what I actually wanted, I always came away with an intense yearning for community. And there was no community for someone like me. There were no bisexual parties or book clubs, no bi positive banners at my small town Pride, no use of the word when I was around other queer people. The way I felt about people meant that I was isolated from a community I needed. So when I first entered queer spaces I told someone I was a lesbian, though I didn’t like that word on my tongue; I quickly exchanged it for queer, hoping no one would ask me about boys.

I don’t remember when I started to call myself bisexual. But I remember realizing fairly quickly that it meant more than I thought it would. People do think I am dirty and greedy and unimaginable. They think I’m the weakest link. They think I don’t belong, that I have it easy, I’m a joke, a problem. They reduce me to how I relate to men. They reduce me to who I sleep with. (In their imagination. Despite what I say and do. As if all bisexuals desire men. As if all bisexuals have binary genders.) They throw queer baseline understandings of sexuality and gender out of the window in the name of protecting this community. When I started learning about queerness, I was ecstatic to find out that we believed gender to be a constructed, fluid, expansive, deeply personal thing that may or may not say something about our desires, bodies or lives. And that we embrace how intricate and complicated desires, bodies and lives are. I was probably even more ecstatic to hear that sexuality, while a root cause of the oppression we experience, was also something to be proud of and excited about. Apparently, that doesn’t seem to apply to bisexual people. But it has changed nothing. I’m still bisexual.

Some days, I hate it. It makes me feel unsafe in the larger queer community. I can’t just assume that people are okay with me. It’s complicated; my mother still doesn’t understand and I had to do this bi thing where you come out 7 times because your parents latch onto the possibility of heterosexuality. It’s painful and I work through it by being loud and obnoxious and so damn bisexual.

And I did find community. Mainly on tumblr but also elsewhere. After I moved to Berlin, I even found community in real life.  I came across small things, like bi-characters, a blog dedicated to bisexual (head)canons. I found The Bi Women Support Network, a survivor-led resource to support bi, pan, and queer women, the organisation Bisexual Woman of Colour and the Bisexual Organizing Project. I learned about BiCon and EuroBiCon. I followed Black non-binary bisexual hero Jacq Applebee on twitter. I started listening to The BiCast, a bisexual podcast. I read Shiri Eisners book “Bi: Notes for a Bisexual revolution”. (Read it. Now.) I realised that there is stuff out there that I can look for, as well as accidentally find when I start somewhere.
And that is what I want everyone else who is struggling with the fact that they like more than one gender to know: you can have community. It’s out there. It’s not as readily available, it’s not as well funded, it’s mostly online, sometimes inaccessible, but it’s there. (How to create bisexual activist spaces off and online might be something to write about later!) And whether you chose the word bisexual or any other one under that umbrella (pan, poly, queer), whether you are attracted to (cis) men or not, whether you are asexual but bi+ romantic, you are really very welcome. Don’t let anyone tell you we don’t care about trans people, that we don’t care about ace people, we don’t know what non-binary means (hi, hello, I’m a bisexual non-binary trans person), we prioritise cis men (we don’t; bisexual women, cis and trans, are the leaders of our community), we don’t have a history (we do), we haven’t done anything for this community (we have), we have no actual problems that warrant a bisexual movement (oh, damn, do we) – all of that is bullshit.
We battle the same issues other queer communities face. We deal with transphobia, classism and racism. I refuse to let that be used to discredit us, because those are widespread issues in all queer movements. But we do have a history and a present of facing those issues with dedication and love. Thanks to tumblr and twitter, to young queers, and some fucking resilience.

You have a community. You have a community. You have a community.

You don’t have to dedicate your life to the bisexual revolution; we are here regardless. You don’t have to love anything about yourself. You don’t have to tell anyone. We are here and we are trying really hard to make things as okay as possible for you. It’s all very confusing, loving people and not loving people and figuring out who those people are and what that means about you, but please know that there is a place for your wholeness, for your desire and pain and love. You don’t have to give up anything about yourself. You have so much time and space to fully understand your desire or just leave it be. You are so amazing.

What is queer fiction?

Author:
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By Anna Hill

When I first started my search for mirrors in the form of queer books I was often recommended entirely non-queer books. I think this is because people have fundamentally misunderstood what queer fiction is and how good and valuable representation works. Here are some of the problems I have found:

One [side] character does not a queer book make

Throughout my journey the recommendations people made to me simply reaffirmed some of the things I already knew – that only white men are gay enough, or even interesting enough to be represented; and that if you are a lesbian or worse – a bisexual woman – you do not exist. I was recommended good books, but not good queer books. Books with straight girl main characters and straight romance pushed as the most important aspect of girls’ lives, with sad, buried gays and sick pitiful gay friends, but never part of the main story.

The lie that a queer book is one with a glimpse of a queer person has been spread, for example by lists like this. Books like Weetzie Bat and The Perks of Being a Wallflower have been put on it, but it’s Weetzie Bat’s best friend who is gay, it’s Charlie’s best friend that is gay! The main character in both these stories is straight. On other lists people have suggested Liberty’s Fire, Remix or Letters To the Dead – all of which have queer side characters, brothers or friends, but are lead by heterosexual and heteromantic love stories.

Queer books should be intersectional

On top of that the number of queer books I was recommended to begin with normally told the stories of white, cisgender, male characters. From Will Grayson, Will Grayson to lesbian classics like Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit, Carol or Fun Home (all of which do count as queer fiction), all are overwhelmingly whitewashed. The queer literature we continue to celebrate often simply reaffirms the idea that there is an acceptable, palatable type of queer and the majority of the queer community are not it.

The moments when you finally find those books that make you feel seen and validated are radical and nourishing. They are so important that, without them, I don’t think I would have survived. Being able to claim a historical and literary ancestry helps to centre queer survival and power today. Suggesting so-called queer fiction which doesn’t centre intersectional queer main characters allows all queers to be disempowered from their own narratives; we are not important or valid enough to be the heroes of any stories, even our own.

A quick counter-list of 15 queer books to read:

(I have yet to read any aromantic or agender books :()

KEY:

* are for poc

b is for bisexual characters

a for asexual

I for intersex

t for trans

  1. The colour purple by alice walker*
  2. Snapshots of a girl by beldan sezen*
  3. Huntress by malinda lo*
  4. Aristotle and dante discover the secrets of the universe by Benjamin alire saenz*(b)
  5. Brown Girl Dreaming by Jacqueline Woodson*
  6. The song of Achilles by madeline miller
  7. Far from you by tess sharpe (b)
  8. She of the mountains by vivek shraya*(b)
  9. Not otherwise specified by Hannah Moskowitz*(b)
  10. None of the above by I.W Gregorio (i)
  11. Moon at Nine by Deborah Ellis*
  12. Pantomime by Laura Lam (i)
  13. From under the mountain by Cait Spivey*(a)
  14. A safe girl to love by Casey Plett (t)
  15. If I was your girl by Meredith Russo (t)

GirlCon – come along!

Author:
girlcon logo

By Anna Hill

What is Girlcon?

Inspired by the book Beauty Queens by Libba Bray, where a bunch of teen beauty queens crash land on a desert island, Girlcon is a two day convention aiming to celebrate teenage girls, young women and non binary folk and create solidarity and community.

The conception of the convention stems from a specific and incredibly relatable conversation held in the book:
“You know, instead of some old, backassward pageant competition, we should have a con. A Girl Con! How awesome would that be?” Adina said.
“What would we do at Girl Con?” Jennifer said, giving the words a cheesy announcer’s voice.
“We could have some wicked cool workshops — writing, films, science, music, consciousness-raising…”
— Beauty Queens, p. 152

They go on to talk about having “a seminar on DIY zine production”, and talks about comic books! Excited by the prospect of a space where girls need not apologise for being themselves, a discussion of what Girlcon could consist of happened on youtube in 2013. After these discussions the first girlcon took place in 2015 and was a great success!

Girlcon is back for a second year with even more content and discussions lined up; from a discussion about rage to talks on queer animation stories and black feminist thought as well as an Asexual and Aromantic meet up and a panel on Beyonce’s new album Lemonade.

Why create Girlcon?

The reason that the organisers of girlcon are so committed to its existence are various; it needs to exist to say that girls and non-binary people should be able to take up all the space they need. It needs to exist to fight against the the toxicity of patriarchal competition; other girls are your friends, your support, your loves, not your enemies. It needs to exist so we can learn from each other and listen to each other.

When and where is Girlcon?

30th – 31st of July, Woodhouse College, London, N12 9EY!!

Here is the facebook event page and here are the free tickets (we just need to keep track of numbers!). For more information about the schedule and anything else follow us on twitter and tumblr and like our facebook page!

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