After Donald Trump was elected, I watched how he was leading, and I called him a fascist.
Unfortunately, everything I wrote was correct, and still reads accurately today.
Earlier this year, after George Floyd was murdered and the country began to grapple, again, with the systemic racism on which this country was built and the violent response to those attempting to tear down those institutions, I called our country fascist.
Unfortunately, everything I wrote was correct, and the situation becomes uglier by the day.
Calling America fascist isn’t enough, though. Calling Americans fascist isn’t enough, either.
We’re the new Nazis.
On January 26, 2017, I wrote a story called My President is a Fascist. Donald Trump had just come to power. I was angry and I was afraid.
Looking at the list of atrocities I believed the Trump presidency would commit, I am ashamed of the glaring omissions, my blind spots from three years ago. My list was by no means meant to be exhaustive, but my prioritization was clearly self-centered. Over the past three years I’ve worked very hard to read more, learn more, listen more, and speak up more. I’ve tried to do the thing I think is…
Today, two people said things to me that have stuck with me — and I think they will for a long time.
“I’m feeling a little overwhelmed right now, but I just keep remembering that all of this has already happened somewhere already before. We know what’s coming. We know what’s going to happen. So every headline you read, every bad piece of news, we knew it was going to come out.”
Later that day, after yet another event was closed, someone else said
“what’s the point?”
We were talking about bike races, and a women-only series taking place in…
If I never see another Bevi machine in an office, I will die a happy woman. When designing the employee recruitment pages for recent companies, I’ve made a concerted push to list values that will better an employee’s work experience, professional career, and holistically better themselves as a person and their lives.
This weekend, a hateful person created an Instagram account that had the sole purpose of posting pictures of trans women who have women athletic events. The language of every post was designed to incite violence against these athletes and encourage people to attempt to stop them from competing.
I live on the upper west side of Manhattan, a block from my local polling station. My company is amazing and accommodating, so I had all the time in the world to vote. At 8:30 in the morning, I showed up outside my polling place and marveled at the fact the line was nearly as long as when I had voted in the 2016 elections.
It was raining, of course.
Poll workers walked down the line, reassuring people that it was moving and that many people were excited to vote today.
An older lady behind me replied, “you really should…
I’m a hardcore gamer. I spent over eight years in the industry, was a pioneer on Twitch, and I play competitive games pretty much every night of the week, including ranked leagues.
I’m also female, which is probably why I feel like I need to present my resume of gamer legitimacy before I tell you why Ninja is completely full of shit.
This weekend, Ninja went on record during an interview to say that he never streams with women. For the non-gamer/non-streaming crew, Ninja plays a very popular game called Fortnite, and he broadcasts himself playing online via a platform…
This past Monday, I was having a Pretty Shitty Day. Severely jet-lagged (albeit because of an amazing vacation), I stood on the sidewalk after a really long and stressful day at work beside my apartment building, on hold with my doctor’s office to find out if my CT scan results meant an organ had to be removed from my body.
A small, portly man stepped in front of me. Through my headphones, playing musak, I heard him say, “do you know what you are doing?” …
This post has been bumping around inside my head for a long time now. I haven’t written it before because no matter how outspoken you are about feminism and inappropriate behaviors in the workplace, writing about a personal experience that can potentially be tracked is a terrifying experience. I doubt there’s a woman who has spoken up — within a company or publicly — who hasn’t feared retribution, firing, doxxing, blacklisting.
But if we don’t speak up, how do we make the change?
So, here’s a story about sexual harassment and discrimination in the workplace. It’s not the worst story…
For the past couple years, I’ve been writing pithy, somewhat snarky, reviews of the books I read over the course of the previous 12 months. While a bit late to the party, I didn’t want to give up the streak this year. So, fellow readers, without further ado, here’s what I read in 2017 — and what I think you should, too.
East coaster with a secret SF love affair. I enjoy juxtaposing things. Also: Cheese and tiny dachshunds.