harborshore (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
harborshore) wrote2009-03-31 08:43 pm
harborshore) wrote2009-03-31 08:43 pm
more than this
I'm trying to write down my reaction to "Pretty Good for a Girl", and I just can't. It's straight-up joy laced with so much anger, it's all the women I love in one long list inside my head and all the words I ever tried to put to music fighting to get out at once.
I've been a singer since I was two. That's something I say to people when they ask why I never tried smoking; that's something I say when someone wants to know what my hobbies or interests are, outside of academia and writing or whatever job I'm applying to at the moment. I've been singing since I was two, I've sung other people's songs on stage at graduations and larger concerts and outdoor music festivals. I'm not going to lie or pretend to be shy about it, not here, not right now: I'm good at it. I make stories real, on stage. It's similar to what makes me a good teacher—performance is about forgetting yourself and remembering that no matter what, the story is more important than you are.
Something else that people ask is why I never started a band. I usually laugh off that question, claiming my attention span was always too short to learn an instrument, and that my double-jointed fingers make it really complicated (and sometimes painful) to play piano or guitar. That's all true. But I know that's not the real reason.
As long as I don't turn my poems into songs, as long as I don't finish them, as long as I don't stand up on that stage with those words that are mine, I can keep hiding. Because here's the thing: I'm scared. I don't think I'm good enough, or pretty enough, or assertive enough. I don't think I could find a band who would want to make music for my lyrics, or even play my songs. Because I do write songs, I just pretend I don't.
I'm not writing that here because I want you to tell me that I am good enough/interesting enough/pretty enough. At this point, no one is more aware than I am that my self-image is a little out of whack. Trust me when I say I'm working on it, and anyway, that's not the point, not right now.
The point is that talented women are always scared. Talented women are always told they're not good enough or pretty enough to stand on the same stage as that man up there. We're taught to want them, not want to be them. I'm not ashamed to be a fan: I love this fandom and I'm really glad I discovered My Chemical Romance at the time that I did. I love that they exist, because they're fucking awesome and their music makes me so happy, and I'm profoundly grateful that they make it really fucking clear that they're feminists. I appreciate that in a band I love. It makes me less likely to get randomly nauseated by unexpected misogynist statements in interviews. (Ask me some other time about loving Bob Dylan's music but having tremendous issues with him as a person.)
At roughly the same time as I found Gerard Way and his merry band of darlings, I found the Dresden Dolls and Indigo Girls and Vienna Teng and Bikini Kill. I already knew about Ani DiFranco and Aretha Franklin and Beverley Knight and the Corrs and Adele and Alanis Morrisette and The Be Good Tanyas and Joan Baez and Fiona Apple and Christina Aguilera and Emmylou Harris and Eva Cassidy and Garbage and Hole and Janis Joplin and Melinda Doolittle and Joni Mitchell and Kate Bush and Lauryn Hill and Nina Simone. (Let's call these lists non-exhaustive, shall we?)
You know who else I found out about? Yeah. That bassist who plays in that crazy band and gets on stage to, as she puts it, make "being a woman in music seem a little less unusual and perhapes open the door to thinking it's something you could do too."
Lyn-Z Ballato, if I do start that band, it'll be because I heard you, more than I've heard anything anyone has said to me in the two years since I graduated college. In another interview, you said "Be the kind of woman you want to be, and be free to be that." I heard that too, and I've been walking taller since.
I lost track of my point again. What I meant to say when I started, is that women deserve a place in the scene. As fanfic writers, we are in some ways writing ourselves a less misogynist, more permissive, less homophobic space than the one that actually exists. And that's good, I love that, I love rewriting reality and I think it does create something real, but there's no reason that we can't have the rest as well.
Come to think of it, I shouldn't even have to say we deserve a place in the scene, behind the scenes, on the fucking stage if we want to be there. I don't even want to tell everyone to start a band (that's not the point either) but I do want, oh do I want, for all the talented women I keep meeting to realize that they are good enough to be up there. And let's take the metaphorical stage to mean whatever venue you want, shall we? An art gallery, a publishing company, a stage, it doesn't even matter. If you dream of creating something, then do it. Do it. I will buy it; I bet people on your flist will. There is no reason, no reason, that you can't be in fandom and create something of your own as well.
(Side note: this isn't to say that being in fandom isn't worth anything. This isn't to say you have to be an actual artist to be worth anything. This is just saying you could, you can. Verb Noire created a small press because they wanted more genre fiction by PoC and LGBT authors, and about PoC and LGBT protagonists.)
I guess what I want to say is this: let's start a revolution. It might be a quiet one, a slow one, but I want us to have the place we deserve. I want Lyn-Z and Kitty to not be so rare that (misogynist asshole) security guards refuse to let them backstage after playing because somehow the drum sticks, the bass and the stage sweat still isn't enough to convince him they're not groupies. I want to be able to not flinch when I turn on MTV and there are music videos playing. (Come to think of it, I want more videos like Ciara's Like A Boy.) I want female musicians in bands to not be A Big Deal. I want female fans and techs and managers and performers to be respected. I want this to be our scene, in every sense of the word. One place to start is to buy that zine that made me write this. *points up* Another is to write some music. Another is to support female musicians. Another is just this: walk taller. This is our scene; this is our space.
ETA: Awesome recs in comments.
I've been a singer since I was two. That's something I say to people when they ask why I never tried smoking; that's something I say when someone wants to know what my hobbies or interests are, outside of academia and writing or whatever job I'm applying to at the moment. I've been singing since I was two, I've sung other people's songs on stage at graduations and larger concerts and outdoor music festivals. I'm not going to lie or pretend to be shy about it, not here, not right now: I'm good at it. I make stories real, on stage. It's similar to what makes me a good teacher—performance is about forgetting yourself and remembering that no matter what, the story is more important than you are.
Something else that people ask is why I never started a band. I usually laugh off that question, claiming my attention span was always too short to learn an instrument, and that my double-jointed fingers make it really complicated (and sometimes painful) to play piano or guitar. That's all true. But I know that's not the real reason.
As long as I don't turn my poems into songs, as long as I don't finish them, as long as I don't stand up on that stage with those words that are mine, I can keep hiding. Because here's the thing: I'm scared. I don't think I'm good enough, or pretty enough, or assertive enough. I don't think I could find a band who would want to make music for my lyrics, or even play my songs. Because I do write songs, I just pretend I don't.
I'm not writing that here because I want you to tell me that I am good enough/interesting enough/pretty enough. At this point, no one is more aware than I am that my self-image is a little out of whack. Trust me when I say I'm working on it, and anyway, that's not the point, not right now.
The point is that talented women are always scared. Talented women are always told they're not good enough or pretty enough to stand on the same stage as that man up there. We're taught to want them, not want to be them. I'm not ashamed to be a fan: I love this fandom and I'm really glad I discovered My Chemical Romance at the time that I did. I love that they exist, because they're fucking awesome and their music makes me so happy, and I'm profoundly grateful that they make it really fucking clear that they're feminists. I appreciate that in a band I love. It makes me less likely to get randomly nauseated by unexpected misogynist statements in interviews. (Ask me some other time about loving Bob Dylan's music but having tremendous issues with him as a person.)
At roughly the same time as I found Gerard Way and his merry band of darlings, I found the Dresden Dolls and Indigo Girls and Vienna Teng and Bikini Kill. I already knew about Ani DiFranco and Aretha Franklin and Beverley Knight and the Corrs and Adele and Alanis Morrisette and The Be Good Tanyas and Joan Baez and Fiona Apple and Christina Aguilera and Emmylou Harris and Eva Cassidy and Garbage and Hole and Janis Joplin and Melinda Doolittle and Joni Mitchell and Kate Bush and Lauryn Hill and Nina Simone. (Let's call these lists non-exhaustive, shall we?)
You know who else I found out about? Yeah. That bassist who plays in that crazy band and gets on stage to, as she puts it, make "being a woman in music seem a little less unusual and perhapes open the door to thinking it's something you could do too."
Lyn-Z Ballato, if I do start that band, it'll be because I heard you, more than I've heard anything anyone has said to me in the two years since I graduated college. In another interview, you said "Be the kind of woman you want to be, and be free to be that." I heard that too, and I've been walking taller since.
I lost track of my point again. What I meant to say when I started, is that women deserve a place in the scene. As fanfic writers, we are in some ways writing ourselves a less misogynist, more permissive, less homophobic space than the one that actually exists. And that's good, I love that, I love rewriting reality and I think it does create something real, but there's no reason that we can't have the rest as well.
Come to think of it, I shouldn't even have to say we deserve a place in the scene, behind the scenes, on the fucking stage if we want to be there. I don't even want to tell everyone to start a band (that's not the point either) but I do want, oh do I want, for all the talented women I keep meeting to realize that they are good enough to be up there. And let's take the metaphorical stage to mean whatever venue you want, shall we? An art gallery, a publishing company, a stage, it doesn't even matter. If you dream of creating something, then do it. Do it. I will buy it; I bet people on your flist will. There is no reason, no reason, that you can't be in fandom and create something of your own as well.
(Side note: this isn't to say that being in fandom isn't worth anything. This isn't to say you have to be an actual artist to be worth anything. This is just saying you could, you can. Verb Noire created a small press because they wanted more genre fiction by PoC and LGBT authors, and about PoC and LGBT protagonists.)
I guess what I want to say is this: let's start a revolution. It might be a quiet one, a slow one, but I want us to have the place we deserve. I want Lyn-Z and Kitty to not be so rare that (misogynist asshole) security guards refuse to let them backstage after playing because somehow the drum sticks, the bass and the stage sweat still isn't enough to convince him they're not groupies. I want to be able to not flinch when I turn on MTV and there are music videos playing. (Come to think of it, I want more videos like Ciara's Like A Boy.) I want female musicians in bands to not be A Big Deal. I want female fans and techs and managers and performers to be respected. I want this to be our scene, in every sense of the word. One place to start is to buy that zine that made me write this. *points up* Another is to write some music. Another is to support female musicians. Another is just this: walk taller. This is our scene; this is our space.
ETA: Awesome recs in comments.
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has Rolo Tomassi been a big thing with the NME? they seem like they might be, but probably because they have a female vocalist, which is a little unusual for that kid of music (although I can think of a few North American bands with female singers who were doing that kind of music well before RT, like The Sick Lipstick and AIDS Wolf).
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