The poor black student and the educated White Savior

Today the kids were watching Blindside. I haven't seen it, myself, but upon hearing about the plot concluded that it falls in to one of my least favorite movie categories: the white educated person saves/teaches/mentors the poor black uneducated student. Now, I know this film is based on a true story, as many of them are. But, I believe these films are inherently racist because they are built upon a dynamic that white movie-goers get off on. Stories where black educated people save/teach/mentor their own communities are rarely made in Hollywood because they deprive the white movie-goer of the voyeuristic experience of being a powerful and benevolent white savior doing their part to be a force of good in the world. My guess is that black movie goers have a very different experience of these films and it's not the experience of "feel good movie of the year." It's probably more like, "what the fuck??" "Why are we portrayed as needing the whites to save us, AGAIN????" I want to see films about all sorts of leaders working within their communities to help themselves. There are plenty of these kinds of stories where there is no rescuing, but instead real empowerment. And if Hollywood won't make these movies because they're not as exciting to white movie goers, than Indie films are going to have to take up the slack.

Girls and Boys

My friends know that one of my biggest pet peeves (besides "The Secret"--which I'll write about later--and drivers who turn on one way streets without checking for pedestrians) is the idea that boys and girls are born with very different personality qualities--boys are aggressive, girls are nurturing. From the moment of birth, or even learning the baby's sex, parents start preparing their children to follow gender stereotypes. Boys are given trucks and puzzles and toys that are less emotional and more practical. Girls get the reverse--dolls and stuffed animals and things that tap into the very real quality of human nurturing. Gender essentialism--the idea that gender traits are inborn--makes me crazy angry. It basically negates all the people who defy these stereotypes: the gentle, nurturing father, the adventurous and tough woman. And so many more. And if you have a study that proves I'm wrong, I'll find a study that proves I'm right. As an artist, I find the gendering of color to be ridiculous. Pink is not inherently female and blue is not inherently male. So why does our culture perpetuate these notions? There must be some investment in keeping males and females in separate and different categories. Someone benefits from this. I'll get back with you on some of the reasons in a future post.

Lately, I am fascinated by contradiction. I believe that the ability to hold two seemingly exclusive ideas within one person is a sign of psychological health. When you grow up without the proper parenting, you can get stuck in different stages of development. One of them is black and white thinking. When young, one must have black and white thinking to understand the world: hitting your baby sister with a toy is bad, giving her a hug is good; eating vegetables for dinner is good, eating cake for dinner is bad. However, as you mature, your outlook on the world becomes more complex and nuanced. You leave the black and white behind. I spent many years stuck in the black and white. Most notably was my pure disdain for meat eaters when I was a vegetarian. I was a very hostile vegetarian and if you ate meat, even if you were my best friend, I judged you as bad. Thankfully, I have moved past the black and white thinking. Now, I am a sea of contradictions. I am the radical feminist obsessed with rap music. I am the former environmentalist who loves nature, but chooses not to recycle in my apartment. I am a Buddhist who rejects hierarchy and lineages--hence the name of this blog, Rebel Buddhist.

A few summers ago I advertised on Craig's List to form a group of people who practice Buddhism, but don't want anyone to tell them how. We met for a few months in Cheeseman Park, sharing ideas with each other and feeling a sort of community. Eventually, the group died out. The concept did not. Being a Rebel Buddhist means both following my own truth and being open to the wisdom of others. And being able to hold and assimilate both, and still be me.