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#and it’s important to not make gender nonconformity into just another box you have to fit into
figofswords · 2 years
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I feel like gender nonconformity is often taken to mean like. presenting as the opposite of whatever your assigned gender is. like as an afab lesbian if I want to be gnc that means I have to dress super masc. but I think for me at least gender nonconformity is more about completely divorcing yourself from any expectations of gender presentation one way or the other. I can dress masc or femme or androgynous, I can wear makeup or not and shave my pits but not my legs, I can be whatever I want to be on any given day without regard for what I’m “supposed” to wear. when I first started really thinking about my relationship with gender there was a period of time where I felt to be valid I had to dress really butch or it didn’t count, and if I wore a skirt that meant I’d been faking it. but I didn’t WANT to dress super butch all the time. I didn’t want to be butch or femme or androgynous or or or or, I wanted to wear what I wanted when I wanted. ultimately I gave up trying to pin down and put a name on my gender identity. I said to hell with it all. my pronouns are what they are and I dress however I dress and I don’t owe it to anyone to define any of that. my gender nonconformity isn’t a nonconformity with femininity specifically; it’s a nonconformity with any sort of gendered rules of presentation. and that was a really freeing thing to figure out. and I think that in online queer communities there’s really this pressure to put a label on everything and to identify as a specific thing and to prove your validity within your identity. non-binary doesn’t have to mean androgynous. gnc doesn’t have to mean butch. and I guess this pride month I’m just really thinking about that, that really all that being queer is about is saying a big fuck it to it all and just…existing, however you want to exist. wear what makes you feel good. be whatever makes you feel good to be. to hell with it all.
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My Two Cents On Writing Trans and Genderqueer Characters Without Focusing On Their Bodies
a.k.a. Upping your game in the sci-fi&fantasy inclusivity challenge
(a tale of a genderqueer author figuring it out zerself)
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Let’s start with this: my world has no gender binary assumptions. It is a futuristic speculative version of our reality, so the history of the binary is there; therefore, people have an understanding of man and woman, but also an understanding of bi-, tri-, multigender, genderfluid, etc.
Gender norms have been tossed and nobody gives a damn about them anymore. But most importantly, they have an understanding that the body of a person doesn’t define them.
 So, how do you describe FULL gender diversity in a world which doesn’t focus on bodies or gender stereotypes.
Quick answer is: you don’t.
 If you are going to be respectful towards the gender of your characters, then you mustn’t fall into the trap of doing the opposite of what you’re advocating for.
The thing is, that in a world like mine, any and every of my characters could be trans and it wouldn’t matter. There are trans characters I have introduced who have not been explicitly outed, unless you have stumbled upon my online list of transgender and genderqueer OCs.
Here are some of the mistakes authors (and most specifically cis authors) could and have made in order to “reveal” a character as trans:
- have them be misgendered or their identity otherwise disrespected
- have them be the object of a hate crime
- have them “play the role” of who they were assigned at birth
- talk about their bodies
 Let’s get this question out of the way:
But Rori, I write romance/erotica and I want to describe my character’s bodies!
Here’s an actual trans reader and writer who has a brilliant piece about this topic. (Warning: the author is very straightforward so beware the 18+ content, plus use of the *q-word*.)
Their strongest point is: detailed description of body-parts could jolt a trans or gender-nonconforming reader out of the story. If you intend to cater to trans readers, and intend to be respectful towards trans characters, maybe lay off the genitalia talk.
I guarantee reading trans authors would give you better ideas how to handle this, but here’s a quote from a yet-unpublished story from my world:
“My hotel has excellent room service,” I say.
She just nods and kisses me again. As I press against her, working my hips so my desire would show, I could tell by the similar reactions of her body, that these first minutes of exploring each other have been as good for her as they have for me.
~ ‘I Think I Know What Love Is’ by Rori I
 Parts 2&3 of the article above talk more about how to avoid trapping your characters in a box and I think it has something valuable to say about describing a body for SF&F authors as well. (It references “Ancillary Justice” in particular ^^)
  Back to topic.
Mine is not a yes or no solution. There have been trans authors who have successfully included negative experiences of being trans in their stories. (A. Sieracki and Austin Chant come to mind.) But they are trans authors – they don’t need my list of things you could do to respect your OCs. Those are their stories.
 (Quick thing: I identify as genderqueer yet exclusionary attitudes still have me pausing on saying “our stories” even if it shouldn’t.)
 So how do we make space for trans people in writing—or most importantly, how do you represent trans people well—when you shouldn’t be making the mistakes described above.
Well, here’s a thing: you don’t have to have done anything to your body, or to be presenting a certain way, to be trans. Trans people come in all shapes and sizes.
People who use pronouns alternative to “she” or “he” have been by far the easiest.
My solution was to have everybody introduce themselves with their name and pronoun, which supports the idea that there are NO assumptions and no gender norms in my world. This way, I have already introduced a few characters as fluid, and one character who uses “zie” and is multigender.
As for the rest:
Unless you don’t want to focus at all on the character, there are ways to talk about their trans identity without stereotyping.
 1. A change of pronoun.
An example from my world would be when a character (Sergeant Sophronia Ulu) decides she will begin using “she/her”; the others acknowledge that change, and then move on to other things. You could write similar off-hand mentions to demonstrate that such a change is addressed but not obsessed over in your world.
Note: you don’t have to have the character be misgendered to show the change. The character can open the conversation with the news of their new pronouns, or you could have in-world signs that a character uses a certain pronoun.
Nowadays, some people use bracelets or buttons. Even in a fantasy universe, there could be a way to represent that – a symbol sewn into the clothes, a certain type of crown or other jewelry.
I warn you though that this method should still not be used to represent the person’s body. Don’t say “this person had sewn a fox symbol on her clothes, meaning she’d used magic to become female”.  Say “the fox was a symbol of womanhood” or “the fox on the jacket/tunic/whatever directed me to using feminine pronouns”.
Also, don’t single out your trans characters. If they wear a symbol, have cis characters wear it too!
 2. Another way would be to have the character reference their trans-ness in some form themselves.
For contemporary stories, it could be as easy as saying, “I am trans.” If you’re writing SF&F and have chosen to be as ambiguous as I have, here is the way I’ve tried to approach it:
“Well— […] I was supposed to meet my doctor on Tuesday, after this team gathering thing. I missed my last two chances for doctor’s appointment because of work and because I was on a vacation. If this occupation lasts for weeks – which it might – I might miss my next hormone doze. F**k it, I shouldn’t have cancelled my appointments!”
“You can’t miss a dose at all?” Rutherford wondered.
“Well, I could, but I don’t want to, and it makes me nervous. With the implant, I have never skipped one since I was fifteen.”
~ Chapter 27, ‘Blacklight’ by Rori I
 This is not ideal and does make the character uncomfortable, but it doesn’t put them in harm’s way. Most importantly, it is an opportunity to show respect towards the trans experience:
[M]odern healthcare was attentive to patient’s needs and everybody with a hormone implant received regular dosage, pre-programmed and regulated by physicians during scheduled check-ups. Nobody had to worry about forgetting to take a hormone pill – the implant was so much part of them that they never had to think it was there, or so Gareth had been told.
“We’re on an Army base, Suarez,” Gareth reminded. “Somebody could have a look at your implant.”
~ Chapter 27, ‘Blacklight’ by Rori I
 It gives you the chance to make space for trans and genderqueer individuals, to make them a respected part of your world.
This is perhaps the most important question when you include any diversity in your story: how does my world accommodate this character’s needs and if it doesn’t why shouldn’t it?
And let’s make this clear right now: accommodating the needs of anyone, based on their identity, their ethnicity, their race, their physical or mental health, is not a troublesome burden which authors have had forced upon them because of PC culture.
If you however believe it is, you are simply better off not including diversity in your novel. Any identity must be treated with the respect it deserves or left alone.
Therefore, a world must have tools in place to address the needs of any individual it includes. If it doesn’t, there better be a good reason why.
 And here is my last bit of advice:
Talk to trans and genderqueer people. Seek out Beta readers who can help you with representing them correctly. Do your research. Read a lot of literature written by trans authors. Here’s a list of some you can start with.
And when you get all that feedback on your story, don’t take it as “good enough”. 
The implant idea you see described in the above excerpt came from a trans acquaintance. This didn’t mean it put a stop on how far I must go to accommodate trans characters.
 Finally, one more time, and I hope this helps: if any of these steps, ideas, hints, give you a headache and overwhelm you rather than inspire you to change your story-world, then I am afraid inclusivity might not be for you.
And that’s just how it is.
 As always:
Stay readin’!
Ro-ri
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epchapman89 · 6 years
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Scenes From Cherry Roast, Denver’s Feminist Coffee Competition
Cherry Roast is an annual Denver coffee competition for all women, transgender, genderqueer, and gender nonconforming baristas of all skill levels to compete in. Founded in 2015 by Amethyst Coffee owner Elle Jensen, the Roast gives participants a chance to experience barista competition in a safe space and the event raises money for the International Women’s Coffee Alliance, which combats the sexism and inequality women face in the world of coffee.
What started as a way to prominently feature and support women in the coffee industry, Jensen’s support has grown and now includes staff members Corvus Coffee barista Kristyn Wade and Crema Coffee barista Breezy Sanchez, along with volunteer and sponsorship support from people throughout the Denver coffee and alcohol scene.
Organizers Kristyn Wade, Breezy Sanchez, and Elle Jensen.
People in and out of Denver’s coffee scene packed out Commonwealth Coffee’s roastery and cafe for nearly four hours while a total of 24 baristas from Colorado and one from the Bay Area competed through rounds of coffee triangulation, brewing, a latte art speed round, dialing in and order fulfillment, and signature drinks. Not bad for a cold Tuesday night.
Barista Abigail Forgath of Loyal Coffee in Colorado Springs was crowned Cherry Roast Champion after defeating Melissa Vaiden of Boxcar Coffee in the signature drink finale. The final round consisted of creating a beverage within seven minutes with a secret ingredient box filled with gooseberries, coconut whipped cream, tandoori popcorn, and rose water. Forgath’s inventive use of a single gooseberry as a garnish for the signature drink was not only pleasing to the judges, but whipped viewers into a frenzy.
Abigail Forgath (left) is crowned champion, literally.
Being crowned champion notwithstanding, Forgath’s biggest takeaway from the night was the people of the Roast and the impact it is having in the coffee community.
“My favorite part of the night was the support from the Cherry Roast and the people that put it together,” says Forgath. “They put so much into it. Amethyst is awesome, and so is everyone involved. They’re doing great things for Colorado at large and for the industry at large.”
Even with the fierce competition, cocktail slinging, and an entertaining night of emceeing from Commonwealth Coffee owner Jason Farrar, some of the most memorable moments of the night came from people feeling comfortable enough to simply be themselves in a room full of people. This included Boss Barista podcast co-hosts Ashley Rodriguez and Jasper Wilde starting a “fuck fascism” chant, some sporadic dancing, bottles of champagne flowing, and Jensen giving a passionate speech about the impact individuals can make in the fight against inequality in coffee.
Jasper Wilde (left) of Boss Barista pours at Cherry Roast.
As a judge and 2016 champion, Johanna Hirschboeck of Crema Coffee was not only quick to point out the significance of the inclusivity of the competition in light of SCA’s new Deferred Candidate policy, but how the people of a local coffee scene is the point of being in coffee.
“Cherry Roast is so important for the coffee community for a number of reasons, but particularly, the inclusivity of it. Given everyone’s sentiments when considering the latest SCA news, I think this is a really good event that includes everybody,” says Hirschboeck. “It’s also important to have that community, to feel that support around you… it really is designed to be a fun competition and a way to get everyone together, to be supportive, and to showcase everyone’s talents.”
Joanna Hirschboeck (left) with Vance Garrett.
After traveling to Houston and Seattle to promote the Cherry Roast over the last couple of years—and in the process, help start the Badass Babes of Coffee in Houston—Wade has embraced the Cherry Roast becoming something bigger than what she and her teammates put together each November in hopes of creating some change in the industry.
“We just want to place our values into grassroots efforts because that’s where change happens,” says Wade. “It’s almost as if we’re knighting individuals, and they have to go around and spread the word in their own communities. I think that’s where we’re headed; it seems to be blowing up beyond what Elle, Breezy, and I are doing now. With the Cherry Roast tonight, we just provided the space and everybody showed up. That’s great and I’m so happy about it.”
The impact of a successful coffee competition and fundraiser on a local level speaks for itself. At the end of the summer, Bob Goldman of Allegro Coffee wanted to find another way to bring the community together and created the Rocky Mountain Craft Coffee Alliance Roasting Rodeo, while Chelsea Kenney and Julia Morgan created the Hot Shots Barista Calendar to raise money for the IWCA and to start conversations about sexism and inequality in coffee.
The coffee industry is not exempt from systematic inequality, but things are changing. If there’s anything to take away from the Cherry Roast, it’s that real change will look a lot like incredible amounts of work each day throughout the year and occasionally like throwing a big party with all of your friends.
Ben Wiese is a freelance journalist based in Denver. Read more Ben Wiese on Sprudge.
The post Scenes From Cherry Roast, Denver’s Feminist Coffee Competition appeared first on Sprudge.
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EXCLUSIVE: Jill Soloway on Patriarchy, Privilege and Flipping the Male Gaze
In 2014, Jill Soloway burst onto the digital TV landscape with Transparent on Amazon and quickly became an Emmy darling for its portrayal of a complicated Pfferman clan in transition. Now Soloway, who identifies as gender nonbinary and uses the pronoun “they,” is serving up a second helping of their particular brand of art house matriarchy in the messy, cerebral, hilarious series I Love Dick.
Based on the 1997 book of the same name by Chris Kraus, the story follows a married couple, Sylvere and Chris (played by Griffin Dune and Kathryn Hahn), as they move to Marfa, Texas, where the husband attends an art institute run by a cowboy named Dick. On its face, the show is about Chris falling in love with the idea of Dick (Kevin Bacon) and using that stolen sexual excitement to reinvigorate her marriage and artistic direction, swapping filmmaking for the performance art of writing lusty love letters to Dick, which she pastes all over town. In reality, I Love Dick depicts Dick himself as a muse and explores how that designation unravels him and sends him and the rest of the characters down a rabbit hole of feminism, the male gaze, sexuality and gender norms.
Unsurprisingly, the show was able to plumb those depths courtesy of an all-female writers’ room. “It’s about wanting to keep pure that rage [of growing up other] and not feel like it had to be softened to keep the peace of the room,” Soloway says of the show’s writing staff.
MORE: Kathryn Hahn on Her Most Important Working Relationship
Soloway was born and raised in Chicago and got their start on shows like The Steve Harvey Show, United States of Tara and Six Feet Under. At home, they say they were “lucky enough” to have one parent come out as transgender. That experience became the basis for their understanding of that community, the foundation for Transparent and the inspiration for their own nonbinary identification. Soloway says they spent years as a femme lesbian but eventually identified as butch; however, the weight of that box’s trappings was crushing. Now, they’ve carved out a new path as nonbinary.
“For me, I still have all the rage [of growing up other], but identifying as nonbinary really calms me because I don’t have to go, ‘This is my lot as a woman. F**k, this is what’s expected of me,’” Soloway explains while stressing that they’re not abandoning women.
If I Love Dick, another Emmy frontrunner, is any indication of Soloway’s feminist dedication and furthering their goal of toppling the patriarchy (also referenced in the name of their production company, Topple Productions), the plan is working. On the heels of the release of their newest Amazon hit, Soloway spoke to ET about flipping the male gaze, female empowerment and that pesky patriarchy.
EMMYS 2017: The Standout Performances of the Season
ET: At first, I Love Dick seems to be about unrequited love. Then I realized it’s about turning the male gaze on its ear, and how most men can’t handle that constant attention. It’s also about the male act of looking at women together, whether it’s in porn or just in the everyday.
Jill Soloway: In the pilot, when they’re at dinner and Dick and Sylvere are looking at Chris together and ask each other whether or not she’s a good filmmaker, this is the moment where Sylvere leaves her and joins Dick in this corroboration of male gaze. It is the inciting incident of the whole series, where she’s like, “I will not be the object of the male gaze. I am going to try to find my own way of seeing the world.” The truth is women are used as the conduit for men to be able to enjoy sexuality together.
How has your own identity played out in your work?
One of the things that’s been so enlightening has been moving from femme to butch. When I was more femme, it was my job to hold the beauty. Now that I’m butch and am dating more femme women, I’ve noticed that both men and other butch women want to see a picture of [the woman I’m dating]. They want us to talk about her together because images of hot girls are conduits for men to get together and talk about their desires and their worship of beauty. That’s one of the hardest things about the male gaze as you try to understand it, the ways you’re asked to participate without your consent.
I love when Sylvere asks Dick, “You don’t like being the muse?” and Dick replies, “It’s humiliating.” It reminded me of my high school dream to have a video where I’m fully clothed, wearing a turtleneck and fur coat, surrounded by nearly nude men -- as a reaction to music videos featuring nearly nude women dancing around fully clothed men.
You could see that male gaze back then; you could watch and feel that.
Do you think women can objectify themselves for monetary purposes instead of the male gaze?
If you monetize it, you own it -- and that could be anyone from a stripper to a Kardashian. These are people who are incredibly empowered, who recognize their body is a tool for empowerment. My problem is that empowerment comes one degree away from the male gaze, because you’re trying to get a man to do something by engaging their gaze. For me, the dream of being in the center of the video in the turtleneck is that you aren’t actually being looked at, you’re doing the looking. The fantasy for women, for me, is to be invisible and have my work investigated.
I can’t outrun the problem of people talking about my looks, but I do suffer from having spent years working on how I look as a way to feel powerful. Now I feel this tragic sense of “Oh, my God, I missed so many years of having a full mind.” I could’ve been becoming smarter and creating.
In I Love Dick, the women are speaking from positions of power, regardless of how they identify, their jobs or how much clothing they’re wearing. Did that come from the years you wasted on beauty, like, “Let me allow these women to be their full selves?”
Power is the word of the moment for me. It’s shorter than intersectionality or solidarity, and both words create questions about who stands for whom. We all want power; women want it, people of color want it, queer people want it, gender nonconforming people want it. We all want the power that comes with being the default subject, that’s why we’re full of rage. No man will ever understand what it feels like to grow up other, no white person will ever understand growing up as a person of color. There’s so much rage over not only wanting to be recognized as we are, but also who we would be had we been the original subject, and not been born into this other.
You hired an all-female writers’ room. What was the purpose of that, aside from creating an authentic female experience?
You’re always silently clocking your allies in whatever room you’re in, and the idea of what is “good story” or whether a story is “working” is the kind of thing that people who’ve had more time in the business might say. Like, “Alright, it’s all well and good that we’re just having fun here, but as a person with experience/the guy -- and I’m not criticizing what’s going on -- I just want to make sure you guys are getting this right.” In doing so, cisgender men might be unconsciously advocating for what makes them feel comfortable, and that would be versions of the male gaze. That could damage a blossoming possibility when you have a group of people in a room together who’ve never had the opportunity to do that before. It’s exactly the same thing with people of color. I’m sure if Donald Glover had an all-black writers’ room…
He did for Atlanta; I was just going to say the same thing.
What if someone would’ve said to him, “You need to have just one white person in there. It’s their job to rein you in because you’re going be too black!” Or, for a women’s writers’ room, there was a guy in there like, “Too much period blood!” You don’t even want that physics, so that choice was to create a room without the male gaze.
I think that space made deeper women-centered scenes possible. Like when the lesbian character, Devon, calls out the woman she’s dating, Toby, while the latter is completely naked for a performance piece that Devon thinks is exploitive. It was a rabbit hole of white feminism versus brown feminism, art for art’s sake versus creating something purposeful and a conversation between lovers.
Thank you for seeing that! I think women viewers do go down a rabbit hole with our show. One woman’s empowerment is another people’s disempowerment, and how does that get talked about in a story between two people who are falling in or out of love? So much fun for a feminist intellectual to think about!
Circling back to the man as muse, what kind of direction did you give Kevin Bacon in playing Dick?
I don’t really get too micro when it comes to a scene, I’m more creating a space for everybody to let loose. I’ll talk to Kevin about a larger emotion he’s playing and he takes care of the pain and sorrow. I do think that who Kevin Bacon is, the six degrees of separation, means something. In looking for real connections, he probably felt a little about Hollywood the way Dick feels about Marfa.
How does being nonbinary affect your work and topple the patriarchy, your goal and the name of your production company?
Luckily, I have the privilege to try being femme, butch or nonbinary. I don’t want to be frivolous about that.
You don’t want to be privileged about your privilege?
No, I don’t want to be privileged about my privilege, because there are so many people who would like to walk into another experience and for whatever reason, they can’t. I’ve been able to create space in my life to experiment, and my parent coming out was a big deal because it allowed me to notice, besides my age and where I am in life, “Where and how do I want to be today?” It’s a very strange thought experiment that feels like a little bit like your turtleneck: I’m not what you see. I’m not even the other thing, like, “Oh, Jill’s a guy now and she’s failing at that!” I don’t want to be failing at my butchness either! I just want to be. The nonbinary thing is great because I just step out of all of the questions of what I am.
I don’t hassle people about pronouns because I know how hard it is. But when people get my pronoun right, it’s such a lovely feeling to not say, “Women are this” or “She is this” or even “Butch is this, masculine is this.” I’m neither, I’m both, I’m constantly changing. It really removes me from my own self-talk of failure, a lot of which was gender.
So, the nonbinary identity itself is fighting the patriarchy by not subscribing to a label.
Yeah, it is all off my table.
What does toppling the patriarchy look like for you?
If Donald Trump could dream of being president, we can dream of anything. Things are happening so quickly; I couldn’t have even imagined I Love Dick five years ago, let alone that it would be on television. I have to believe that there could be a world where the shared values that are currently thought of as religious values, like God, actually become shared values like love and justice. I think most people prefer peace, but because of capitalism, colonialism, imperialism or any of the -isms, we’re where we are right now.
A toppled world means that the kind of masculine, war-mongering, dominance-obsessed men that have their hold on our planet would evolve in a positive way. To me, believing that I can change the world through culture, television, books or movies, that’s how I get out of bed. I don’t see it happening in my lifetime, but I have an 8-year-old, and this could be his future.
This interview has been edited and condensed. 
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EXCLUSIVE: Jill Soloway on Patriarchy, Privilege and Flipping the Male Gaze
In 2014, Jill Soloway burst onto the digital TV landscape with Transparent on Amazon and quickly became an Emmy darling for its portrayal of a complicated Pfferman clan in transition. Now Soloway, who identifies as gender nonbinary and uses the pronoun “they,” is serving up a second helping of their particular brand of art house matriarchy in the messy, cerebral, hilarious series I Love Dick.
Based on the 1997 book of the same name by Chris Kraus, the story follows a married couple, Sylvere and Chris (played by Griffin Dune and Kathryn Hahn), as they move to Marfa, Texas, where the husband attends an art institute run by a cowboy named Dick. On its face, the show is about Chris falling in love with the idea of Dick (Kevin Bacon) and using that stolen sexual excitement to reinvigorate her marriage and artistic direction, swapping filmmaking for the performance art of writing lusty love letters to Dick, which she pastes all over town. In reality, I Love Dick depicts Dick himself as a muse and explores how that designation unravels him and sends him and the rest of the characters down a rabbit hole of feminism, the male gaze, sexuality and gender norms.
Unsurprisingly, the show was able to plumb those depths courtesy of an all-female writers’ room. “It’s about wanting to keep pure that rage [of growing up other] and not feel like it had to be softened to keep the peace of the room,” Soloway says of the show’s writing staff.
MORE: Kathryn Hahn on Her Most Important Working Relationship
Soloway was born and raised in Chicago and got their start on shows like The Steve Harvey Show, United States of Tara and Six Feet Under. At home, they say they were “lucky enough” to have one parent come out as transgender. That experience became the basis for their understanding of that community, the foundation for Transparent and the inspiration for their own nonbinary identification. Soloway says they spent years as a femme lesbian but eventually identified as butch; however, the weight of that box’s trappings was crushing. Now, they’ve carved out a new path as nonbinary.
“For me, I still have all the rage [of growing up other], but identifying as nonbinary really calms me because I don’t have to go, ‘This is my lot as a woman. F**k, this is what’s expected of me,’” Soloway explains while stressing that they’re not abandoning women.
If I Love Dick, another Emmy frontrunner, is any indication of Soloway’s feminist dedication and furthering their goal of toppling the patriarchy (also referenced in the name of their production company, Topple Productions), the plan is working. On the heels of the release of their newest Amazon hit, Soloway spoke to ET about flipping the male gaze, female empowerment and that pesky patriarchy.
EMMYS 2017: The Standout Performances of the Season
ET: At first, I Love Dick seems to be about unrequited love. Then I realized it’s about turning the male gaze on its ear, and how most men can’t handle that constant attention. It’s also about the male act of looking at women together, whether it’s in porn or just in the everyday.
Jill Soloway: In the pilot, when they’re at dinner and Dick and Sylvere are looking at Chris together and ask each other whether or not she’s a good filmmaker, this is the moment where Sylvere leaves her and joins Dick in this corroboration of male gaze. It is the inciting incident of the whole series, where she’s like, “I will not be the object of the male gaze. I am going to try to find my own way of seeing the world.” The truth is women are used as the conduit for men to be able to enjoy sexuality together.
How has your own identity played out in your work?
One of the things that’s been so enlightening has been moving from femme to butch. When I was more femme, it was my job to hold the beauty. Now that I’m butch and am dating more femme women, I’ve noticed that both men and other butch women want to see a picture of [the woman I’m dating]. They want us to talk about her together because images of hot girls are conduits for men to get together and talk about their desires and their worship of beauty. That’s one of the hardest things about the male gaze as you try to understand it, the ways you’re asked to participate without your consent.
I love when Sylvere asks Dick, “You don’t like being the muse?” and Dick replies, “It’s humiliating.” It reminded me of my high school dream to have a video where I’m fully clothed, wearing a turtleneck and fur coat, surrounded by nearly nude men -- as a reaction to music videos featuring nearly nude women dancing around fully clothed men.
You could see that male gaze back then; you could watch and feel that.
Do you think women can objectify themselves for monetary purposes instead of the male gaze?
If you monetize it, you own it -- and that could be anyone from a stripper to a Kardashian. These are people who are incredibly empowered, who recognize their body is a tool for empowerment. My problem is that empowerment comes one degree away from the male gaze, because you’re trying to get a man to do something by engaging their gaze. For me, the dream of being in the center of the video in the turtleneck is that you aren’t actually being looked at, you’re doing the looking. The fantasy for women, for me, is to be invisible and have my work investigated.
I can’t outrun the problem of people talking about my looks, but I do suffer from having spent years working on how I look as a way to feel powerful. Now I feel this tragic sense of “Oh, my God, I missed so many years of having a full mind.” I could’ve been becoming smarter and creating.
In I Love Dick, the women are speaking from positions of power, regardless of how they identify, their jobs or how much clothing they’re wearing. Did that come from the years you wasted on beauty, like, “Let me allow these women to be their full selves?”
Power is the word of the moment for me. It’s shorter than intersectionality or solidarity, and both words create questions about who stands for whom. We all want power; women want it, people of color want it, queer people want it, gender nonconforming people want it. We all want the power that comes with being the default subject, that’s why we’re full of rage. No man will ever understand what it feels like to grow up other, no white person will ever understand growing up as a person of color. There’s so much rage over not only wanting to be recognized as we are, but also who we would be had we been the original subject, and not been born into this other.
You hired an all-female writers’ room. What was the purpose of that, aside from creating an authentic female experience?
You’re always silently clocking your allies in whatever room you’re in, and the idea of what is “good story” or whether a story is “working” is the kind of thing that people who’ve had more time in the business might say. Like, “Alright, it’s all well and good that we’re just having fun here, but as a person with experience/the guy -- and I’m not criticizing what’s going on -- I just want to make sure you guys are getting this right.” In doing so, cisgender men might be unconsciously advocating for what makes them feel comfortable, and that would be versions of the male gaze. That could damage a blossoming possibility when you have a group of people in a room together who’ve never had the opportunity to do that before. It’s exactly the same thing with people of color. I’m sure if Donald Glover had an all-black writers’ room…
He did for Atlanta; I was just going to say the same thing.
What if someone would’ve said to him, “You need to have just one white person in there. It’s their job to rein you in because you’re going be too black!” Or, for a women’s writers’ room, there was a guy in there like, “Too much period blood!” You don’t even want that physics, so that choice was to create a room without the male gaze.
I think that space made deeper women-centered scenes possible. Like when the lesbian character, Devon, calls out the woman she’s dating, Toby, while the latter is completely naked for a performance piece that Devon thinks is exploitive. It was a rabbit hole of white feminism versus brown feminism, art for art’s sake versus creating something purposeful and a conversation between lovers.
Thank you for seeing that! I think women viewers do go down a rabbit hole with our show. One woman’s empowerment is another people’s disempowerment, and how does that get talked about in a story between two people who are falling in or out of love? So much fun for a feminist intellectual to think about!
Circling back to the man as muse, what kind of direction did you give Kevin Bacon in playing Dick?
I don’t really get too micro when it comes to a scene, I’m more creating a space for everybody to let loose. I’ll talk to Kevin about a larger emotion he’s playing and he takes care of the pain and sorrow. I do think that who Kevin Bacon is, the six degrees of separation, means something. In looking for real connections, he probably felt a little about Hollywood the way Dick feels about Marfa.
How does being nonbinary affect your work and topple the patriarchy, your goal and the name of your production company?
Luckily, I have the privilege to try being femme, butch or nonbinary. I don’t want to be frivolous about that.
You don’t want to be privileged about your privilege?
No, I don’t want to be privileged about my privilege, because there are so many people who would like to walk into another experience and for whatever reason, they can’t. I’ve been able to create space in my life to experiment, and my parent coming out was a big deal because it allowed me to notice, besides my age and where I am in life, “Where and how do I want to be today?” It’s a very strange thought experiment that feels like a little bit like your turtleneck: I’m not what you see. I’m not even the other thing, like, “Oh, Jill’s a guy now and she’s failing at that!” I don’t want to be failing at my butchness either! I just want to be. The nonbinary thing is great because I just step out of all of the questions of what I am.
I don’t hassle people about pronouns because I know how hard it is. But when people get my pronoun right, it’s such a lovely feeling to not say, “Women are this” or “She is this” or even “Butch is this, masculine is this.” I’m neither, I’m both, I’m constantly changing. It really removes me from my own self-talk of failure, a lot of which was gender.
So, the nonbinary identity itself is fighting the patriarchy by not subscribing to a label.
Yeah, it is all off my table.
What does toppling the patriarchy look like for you?
If Donald Trump could dream of being president, we can dream of anything. Things are happening so quickly; I couldn’t have even imagined I Love Dick five years ago, let alone that it would be on television. I have to believe that there could be a world where the shared values that are currently thought of as religious values, like God, actually become shared values like love and justice. I think most people prefer peace, but because of capitalism, colonialism, imperialism or any of the -isms, we’re where we are right now.
A toppled world means that the kind of masculine, war-mongering, dominance-obsessed men that have their hold on our planet would evolve in a positive way. To me, believing that I can change the world through culture, television, books or movies, that’s how I get out of bed. I don’t see it happening in my lifetime, but I have an 8-year-old, and this could be his future.
This interview has been edited and condensed. 
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