Not that I intended to post three blogs about the probably already over-hyped controversy about a supposedly offensive LGBT film festival poster, but I recently found a site that conducted a survey about it (if you haven't read my last two blog posts, you can read more about the poster incident here and take a look at the poster in question here).
In a survey last week by North County NOW, people were asked:
Do you think the St. Lawrence County administration was justified in removing a poster advertising a movie festival about gay issues from a public bulletin board in the Department of Social Services building?
53.1% said No and 46.9% said Yes.
682 people had responded to the survey and 246 comments were posted. Here are a couple of comments from the people who agreed with the poster being taken down:
- "It was inappropriate for the workplace. Dyke and butch are not words that I want posted -they are derogatory in nature and are not necessary to advertise any movie."
(I would assume that s/he doesn't know about the film Straight Hike for the Butch Dyke, which aired on LOGO as a twist on Queer Eye for the Straight Guy.)
- "I think you should post the poster in question so people can see the descriptions that were used! One movie in particular: Itty Bitty Titty Commitee, A rockin' lesbian love song to the heady rush of sex, freedom and rebellion. Full of mosh pits, power fists and utter charm. or Butch Jamie: Hilarious gender-bending comedy. Struggling actress Jamie is a spiky-haired butch dyke tired of auditioning in femme "drag" for women's roles."
(Hmmm. Sounds like two really great movies to me. But what can I say? I suppose I'm biased.)
About half of the people who were in favor of the poster removal argued that it didn't have anything to do with LGBT issues, but that the poster was inappropriate in the workplace as well as in a building where children and teens could see it. Another sizable percentage who agreed with the poster's removal posted a slew of hated-filled comments about the LGBT community.
For the 53% who didn't agree with the poster's removal, most of them referred to our freedom of speech. As Noam Chomsky states, "If we don't believe in free expression for people we despise, we don't believe in it at all."
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Sunday, March 23, 2008
You suck! ...but thanks for the publicity :)
As I discussed in my last blog post, Butch Jamie has recently gained a smidgen of infamy in Upstate New York regarding the censorship of a film festival poster.
I found a silly little blog post that tried to compare the poster controversy to Clarkson University hockey games. The writer says that the poster incident has nothing to do with homophobia and that it's like yelling "You suck!" to the other team at hockey games. S/he says that while both are protected legally by free speech, "It’s inconsiderate to use those words around people who may feel uncomfortable with that type of language."
While Butch Jamie is cited as one of the offensive film titles along with the movie Itty Bitty Titty Committee, the writer only uses "titty" as an example of "coarse" and "disrespectful" language. How Butch Jamie fits into this coarse language where s/he tries to argue that "much of the objection [is not because of] homosexual issues," is not addressed.
I hadn't seen the poster before today and I did find the word "dyke" in the description of the movie which probably didn't go over too well either, although there's been no mention of it.
Here's a link to a brief article about the response to the poster incident from the New York affiliate of the ACLU.
However, I do have to admit - the fact that Butch Jamie is involved in a mini controversy over free speech is an interesting sort of honor.
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I found a silly little blog post that tried to compare the poster controversy to Clarkson University hockey games. The writer says that the poster incident has nothing to do with homophobia and that it's like yelling "You suck!" to the other team at hockey games. S/he says that while both are protected legally by free speech, "It’s inconsiderate to use those words around people who may feel uncomfortable with that type of language."
While Butch Jamie is cited as one of the offensive film titles along with the movie Itty Bitty Titty Committee, the writer only uses "titty" as an example of "coarse" and "disrespectful" language. How Butch Jamie fits into this coarse language where s/he tries to argue that "much of the objection [is not because of] homosexual issues," is not addressed.
I hadn't seen the poster before today and I did find the word "dyke" in the description of the movie which probably didn't go over too well either, although there's been no mention of it.
Here's a link to a brief article about the response to the poster incident from the New York affiliate of the ACLU.
However, I do have to admit - the fact that Butch Jamie is involved in a mini controversy over free speech is an interesting sort of honor.
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Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Is Butch a Bad Word?
I found an article recently that reported how a poster advertising a gay and lesbian film festival in upstate New York got taken down from a public bulletin board because six employees complained that some of the titles were offensive. What was so offensive? Well, for one - Butch Jamie. The other films cited were Out at the Wedding (no idea why) and Itty Bitty Titty Committee (ah yes, titties. Gets them every time.) As one blog wrote - "it's questionable whether it was homophobia at play or just extreme lameness."
After the poster got taken down, gay activists got involved. As a result, the poster was then put back up but with certain words blacked out. It was a compromise of sorts, between freedom of speech and censorship. And I wonder - was "Butch" blacked out? No, it couldn't have been. Could it?
It's a minor incident - hardly worth getting upset over, but it's interesting to reflect on. I identify as a butch woman, many of my friends identify as butch, I make movies starring butch characters, and I probably say, read, write, or at least think about the word butch everyday. It's such a part of me and my world that I don't even think twice about it. But it didn't always used to be that way.
When I first moved to L.A. after college, I was 22 and well - it wasn't that long ago, but I was really young. The world somehow seemed new to me, and in a lot of ways it was. When you're in school, you're somehow taken care of. You have set goals, set priorities, built-in friends, teachers who are supposed to encourage and inspire you, help bring out your best and develop your abilities. You have authority figures who often strive to make everyone feel comfortable, safe, respected, and well cared for. You're given a lot of attention, and sometimes a lot of praise and recognition.
Then when you're out of school it's you who needs to start filling those roles of encouraging yourself, developing yourself, striving to make yourself feel comfortable and well cared for. You are for the first time, really on your own. No one really cares whether you're "on track" or "falling behind." Your boss doesn't care if you get enough attention or if you're growing and developing to the best of your ability. And no one really cares if you feel comfortable. Sure, there are some legal issues with sexual harassment and what not, but when it comes down to it, people generally don't consider your comfort something to be concerned with.
But for some reason, I did seem to be concerned with making other people feel comfortable. I seemed to be concerned with making other people feel comfortable with me, even though apparently, I wasn't comfortable with myself. I spent my college years being the biggest, baddest, butchest mofo that ever walked the halls (even if I did giggle like a girl). But in the first nine or so months that I was in L.A., I pretty much femmed it up. I didn't wear make-up or anything like that, but I did modify my wardrobe (and started using the word wardrobe). I worked as a receptionist for awhile at an editing facility, then as a client services representative at a post production house. I figured that especially since I worked with the public, it was somehow unacceptable for me to look butch. I was somehow unacceptable.
My clothing choices ended up not being just for work. It all started in the spirit of professionalism, but then it creeped into other areas of my life as well - when I went out to dinner, went to the movies, etc. It seemed easier to dress that way than to deal with people calling me "sir" or freaking out when they saw me in the women's restroom. So big deal, you might say. You dressed a little femme; so what? Well yeah - so what. Except I didn't feel comfortable in my own skin and in my own life. I felt I had to pretend to be somebody else in order not to offend people by my presence.
Then I worked with a butch lesbian at one of my jobs. She also worked with clients, but she dressed as her usual butch self. At first I was in awe of her - that she could wear that to work and nobody thought twice about it. But I figured - if she could do it, I could do it. So I started dressing the way I wanted to, and I started feeling more confident about who I was. And that was that.
Looking back, it reminds me of something I read in a book recently. It said "In your life, other people will see their own possibilities." It's interesting. We never really know the effect we have over the other people we meet and know in our lives, but the truth is - sometimes the simplest act of living an honest life inspires someone else to do the same.
Maybe the word "Butch" was blacked out on the poster. But it isn't in my life, in my films, and in my characters. I don't usually think about what it means for Jamie to be butch, but when I think about having that part taken away from her, I realize how important it is. That part of her - that part in all of us, whatever it may be, that needs to be embraced in order to feel comfortable with who we are. Ultimately, it's about putting our ideas about ourselves before other people's ideas about us. It's about living a life of honesty and truth where other people may be able to see their own possibilities.
After the poster got taken down, gay activists got involved. As a result, the poster was then put back up but with certain words blacked out. It was a compromise of sorts, between freedom of speech and censorship. And I wonder - was "Butch" blacked out? No, it couldn't have been. Could it?
It's a minor incident - hardly worth getting upset over, but it's interesting to reflect on. I identify as a butch woman, many of my friends identify as butch, I make movies starring butch characters, and I probably say, read, write, or at least think about the word butch everyday. It's such a part of me and my world that I don't even think twice about it. But it didn't always used to be that way.
When I first moved to L.A. after college, I was 22 and well - it wasn't that long ago, but I was really young. The world somehow seemed new to me, and in a lot of ways it was. When you're in school, you're somehow taken care of. You have set goals, set priorities, built-in friends, teachers who are supposed to encourage and inspire you, help bring out your best and develop your abilities. You have authority figures who often strive to make everyone feel comfortable, safe, respected, and well cared for. You're given a lot of attention, and sometimes a lot of praise and recognition.
Then when you're out of school it's you who needs to start filling those roles of encouraging yourself, developing yourself, striving to make yourself feel comfortable and well cared for. You are for the first time, really on your own. No one really cares whether you're "on track" or "falling behind." Your boss doesn't care if you get enough attention or if you're growing and developing to the best of your ability. And no one really cares if you feel comfortable. Sure, there are some legal issues with sexual harassment and what not, but when it comes down to it, people generally don't consider your comfort something to be concerned with.
But for some reason, I did seem to be concerned with making other people feel comfortable. I seemed to be concerned with making other people feel comfortable with me, even though apparently, I wasn't comfortable with myself. I spent my college years being the biggest, baddest, butchest mofo that ever walked the halls (even if I did giggle like a girl). But in the first nine or so months that I was in L.A., I pretty much femmed it up. I didn't wear make-up or anything like that, but I did modify my wardrobe (and started using the word wardrobe). I worked as a receptionist for awhile at an editing facility, then as a client services representative at a post production house. I figured that especially since I worked with the public, it was somehow unacceptable for me to look butch. I was somehow unacceptable.
My clothing choices ended up not being just for work. It all started in the spirit of professionalism, but then it creeped into other areas of my life as well - when I went out to dinner, went to the movies, etc. It seemed easier to dress that way than to deal with people calling me "sir" or freaking out when they saw me in the women's restroom. So big deal, you might say. You dressed a little femme; so what? Well yeah - so what. Except I didn't feel comfortable in my own skin and in my own life. I felt I had to pretend to be somebody else in order not to offend people by my presence.
Then I worked with a butch lesbian at one of my jobs. She also worked with clients, but she dressed as her usual butch self. At first I was in awe of her - that she could wear that to work and nobody thought twice about it. But I figured - if she could do it, I could do it. So I started dressing the way I wanted to, and I started feeling more confident about who I was. And that was that.
Looking back, it reminds me of something I read in a book recently. It said "In your life, other people will see their own possibilities." It's interesting. We never really know the effect we have over the other people we meet and know in our lives, but the truth is - sometimes the simplest act of living an honest life inspires someone else to do the same.
Maybe the word "Butch" was blacked out on the poster. But it isn't in my life, in my films, and in my characters. I don't usually think about what it means for Jamie to be butch, but when I think about having that part taken away from her, I realize how important it is. That part of her - that part in all of us, whatever it may be, that needs to be embraced in order to feel comfortable with who we are. Ultimately, it's about putting our ideas about ourselves before other people's ideas about us. It's about living a life of honesty and truth where other people may be able to see their own possibilities.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
June Cleaver Eats My Beaver
As I discussed in my blog last week, two of my shorts are now available for download from TLA Video on a compilation called Iron Girls 4. Last week I talked about my film Ballet Diesel, the butch lesbian with closeted girlie habits. This week I'll tell you a little about the other short on the compilation, Girl for Life.
Girl for Life is a comedic infomercial spoof that teaches butch women how to enter any women's restroom with "confidence and ease." It's based on real events in that restroom-gender-drama (i.e. people thinking I was a man) was a daily experience for me and I'm sure it is for many of you as well. I do have a minor role in the film, but I cast two of my friends in the leading roles - Karman Kregloe (in the photo below on the right), who now writes for AfterEllen.com, and Shannon Morris (on the left).
There used to be a quarterly queer screening series in L.A. called Film Fatale, organized by Rosser Goodman from KGB Films. In honor of their fifth anniversary they created the Filmmaker Five, where five filmmakers were selected to make a film under five minutes with $50 in only five days. The entire film was to be made in the five days - written, shot, and edited.
At the beginning of the five days, each filmmaker was given an image to begin their film with and an image to end their film with, both of which could be interpreted however we wanted. Five days later, there was a screening where the films played in a sort of loop, with one film's ending image being another film's beginning image, and so forth.
My film was to begin with June Cleaver and end with blowing bubbles. So I did what any other full-fledged dyke would do, and I made a T-shirt that said "June Cleaver Eats My Beaver" to start the film with.
At the end of the film, I had the character I played blow bubbles above the infomercial title card.
And now, six years later, you can watch it on your computer...
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Girl for Life is a comedic infomercial spoof that teaches butch women how to enter any women's restroom with "confidence and ease." It's based on real events in that restroom-gender-drama (i.e. people thinking I was a man) was a daily experience for me and I'm sure it is for many of you as well. I do have a minor role in the film, but I cast two of my friends in the leading roles - Karman Kregloe (in the photo below on the right), who now writes for AfterEllen.com, and Shannon Morris (on the left).
There used to be a quarterly queer screening series in L.A. called Film Fatale, organized by Rosser Goodman from KGB Films. In honor of their fifth anniversary they created the Filmmaker Five, where five filmmakers were selected to make a film under five minutes with $50 in only five days. The entire film was to be made in the five days - written, shot, and edited.
At the beginning of the five days, each filmmaker was given an image to begin their film with and an image to end their film with, both of which could be interpreted however we wanted. Five days later, there was a screening where the films played in a sort of loop, with one film's ending image being another film's beginning image, and so forth.
My film was to begin with June Cleaver and end with blowing bubbles. So I did what any other full-fledged dyke would do, and I made a T-shirt that said "June Cleaver Eats My Beaver" to start the film with.
At the end of the film, I had the character I played blow bubbles above the infomercial title card.
And now, six years later, you can watch it on your computer...
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