The writer of the post was told on GoodReads that if they needed certain websites to be accessible due to a disability, then they should ask for it. Please read the entire post on DreamWidth.

I was recently treated to another round of “disabled people need to just ask for accommodations, then they’d be given them,” with the usual accompaniments of “you shouldn’t be so angry” and “you should be nicer.” (It was on Goodreads. Don’t ask. Really.)

So I figured, okay. I know this is bullshit from a lifetime of experience, but let’s gather some data.

What I did
I gave myself 7 days. Every time during that 7 days I ran into a particular kind of inaccessibility, I wrote to the owner/relevant authority and asked them to fix it. I aimed for short, factual, informative request letters.

The data on this was surprising. Though I guess it is only surprising to someone like me, who has privilege in this area.

The results
I grouped responses into categories:

1. Competent and positive: Something like, “we didn’t know, we’ll get on that.” I intended to also include things like, “I’m not qualified to handle this, let me pass you up the chain,” where the intention clearly is to get the problem solved, not make me go away. I also intended to count responses along the lines of, “we have to talk to our tech people about this, but we want to fix it and here’s a rough idea of how long it might take.” This ended up not being necessary.

Number of responses in this category: 0

2. The runaround: People who don’t know what I’m talking about and don’t care enough to find out, so you end up in an endless loop getting passed up and down the chain of command until someone finally just stops answering, or, for the bigger corporations, you get one of those, “your ticket has been closed, we hope you are satisfied,” emails.

Number of responses: 6 (23%)

3. Hostility: Some version of “we know it’s inaccessible, but we are not fixing it,” or “we didn’t know, and we’re not fixing it.” I include in this category any version of, “it would be too hard,” (universally incorrect) “not enough people need that,” or “our customers haven’t asked for that” (what am I, exactly?) There are legit technical reasons why certain access issues would be very difficult to fix, but I happen to know a fair amount about this, and most of what I’m talking about here are discrete, one-fix issues.

Number of responses: 7 (27%)

4. Silence: Complete nonresponsiveness, other than a form “we’ve received your letter” email in some cases, and often with the “we respond to every request within x days” language. (The length of time between my note and this post ranges from 11 to 18 days. I’ll update if any more trickle in).

Number of responses: 13 (50%)

That’s right. Not one positive response to the request and 50% of the people contacted didn’t respond. That is an awful high number and depressing to say the least. Some of the companies contacted included Nike.com, Google, Gmail, and even smaller businesses, such as their broker and health insurance company.

This is just not good enough, y’all. There has to be more work on the part of the privileged to include people in our whole community. When I first read this I thought maybe there was an organization that solicited websites to let volunteers go in and make the site more accessible. Then I realized people would probably freak out about having to let a stranger into their server and all that. I’m going to try and do some research into ways I could be helping out more, aside from just trying to make this blog as accessible as possible.

Cosmoqueer is available from zinelibrary.info in pdf form (AFAI can tell it is accessible).

As luck would have it, the second issue is set to come out in November. Submissions are welcomed and encouraged.

The next cosmoqueer zine is gonna be about Disney. I would love for y’all to submit some stuff. Fanart would be great, as would anything about Disney really. A story about you and Disney, a critical perspective of a certain movie, anything.
Deadline’s the end of October, latest.
You can message me about it here, here or at cosmoqueer@gmail.com.

I can’t wait to see what comes next!

I confess, I like Elizabethtown, Garden State and Sweet November. Hell, on the AV club’s list of 16 MPDG movies I like every one I’ve seen (except for maybe Autumn in New York; Geer and Ryder are not a match). These are women I always inspired to be. At 28, I feel like I am becoming them in a lot of ways and that makes me happy.

The trope is rather simple –which is likely the point –, though I’m not just about opening the hearts of societally classified men. I am this way because I like it, and also it has always been a way for me to survive and find worth in myself. My life has not been filled with happiness and light. My personality is not one that is favored in the mainstream. My abusers made it clear to me from infancy that I was worthless if I could not give to others. Being from a poor family that lived in a small town of 3,000, without transportation, and having dropped out of school with no prospects for college, created a life that was empty of most everything. I don’t/can’t work due to mental and physical health issues. I’ve experienced severe depression since before I can remember. My life has never been about making myself happy, reaching my own goals, aspiring to anything, because, frankly, there was no way in hell I could do anything. I’m sure there are folks who will read that and tell me what a liar I am. I’ll be regaled with stories about how they struggled through, made their own luck, turned their life around and I could too. While I’m overjoyed for them, I know my own life history and I’m secure in knowing I was fucked six ways to Sunday and not in a manner which is in any way rewarding, fun, or interesting.

I don’t claim my MPDG status to make a statement that this trope isn’t harmful, or that it doesn’t contribute to a system which portrays societally classified women only in their relationship to societally classified men. I speak out on this only to let folks know that I’m not perfect. Even as an activist I am not free from the systemic messages I receive from my culture. I am a product of what is around me, no doubt. That said, I am more than that too. So if you are a MPDG, or Single Woman Seeks Good Man, or Femme Fatale, or any other trope in entertainment and in a defining moment of realization this freaks you the fuck out (as it did me), please take a few breathes and know you are not alone.

Okay, so I’m having a bit of fun with using tropes. That fact remains is that as someone who tries to unpack all the bullshit the dominate social paradigm hands me, I often get squicked out when I realize just how much I’ve been incorporating the messages. I get depressed. I mope around. I question my existence. I become embarrassed and want to hide away from all my amazing, smart friends because surely they will see how much I am a part of the hegemony and will laugh at me behind my back (they won’t; that’s why they’re amazing). I spend hours dwelling on it. Every time Jezebel decries the trope, or NPR discusses it, or someone uses the definition from Nathan Rabin — “that bubbly, shallow cinematic creature that exists solely in the fevered imaginations of sensitive writer-directors to teach broodingly soulful young men to embrace life and its infinite mysteries and adventures.” — I cringe because it’s me they’re talking about. Really, though, it isn’t me. MPDG is part of me, but that is not all I am. It’s about the portrayal of societally classified women. It’s about the way kyriarchy portrays societally classified women. It isn’t me, I’m not a trope. I’m not bad or wrong or pandering to the mainstream if I embrace these aspects of myself.

Because if I really look, I can see being a MPDG for other people helps me to be a MPDG for myself. It helped me to navigate society and struggle and strive and pull myself up out of that nightmare of a life I had before I flew off to Portland, OR to marry my heteroromantic life partner. I’m sure some people would look at my life on paper and giggle, or accuse me of being a traitor and a liar. Maybe, even, someone I casually meet on OKCupid will publicly mock me for daring to exhibit such anti-feminist traits and then I’ll be held up as an example and people will be encourage to dismiss me and my whole being for the simple fact I identify as a MPDG. Afterall, it’s more than a hobby right? It’s a fundamental part of my personality and if they are turned off by that, then I either need to change that aspect or accept that I will be Tnternet-pwned.

As Lesley mentioned in her article, crying is such a loaded activity in our society. Even though I follow a lot of badass individuals through various social justice networks, which inevitably leads to a lot of overwhelming emotions, crying is rarely spoken about.

I am not immune either; when I see someone crying, even someone I know well, I invariably have a moment in which I freeze with astonishment and fear: There is crying happening! What do I do?

Says Lesley in her article. Says me in mine. As much as I like to classify myself as badass, to strut around talking about how I would wield my anger and take no shit from no one, I have to say that I cry. A lot. My emotions overwhelm me and it is expressed through tears. I cry in sadness, anger, frustration, irritation, fear, embarrassment, etc., etc., etc. It was the source of continual “teasing” from family and friends. It was something that everyone couldn’t stop talking to me about and yet avoided like it was going out of style. For a long time, this was baffling to me. I could never talk about why I cried or work through my reaction, yet I couldn’t ever just cry without people needing to tell me I was doing so. As if I wasn’t aware.

So, yes, I am a cryer. I welcome that about myself now. Not because I think it makes me more in touch with my emotions than someone who doesn’t cry. No, that’s bullshit. I just recognize that’s how I need to respond to things and that doesn’t make me broken. It’s one of the thousands of things that society tells us is wrong. Since society is wrong about so many things it isn’t surprising to me that they’re wrong about this too.

I support talking more about crying; I think bringing that behavior out of the darkness is important. If I could just get people to treat me the same way they always do, despite the crying, then I feel like I could get a lot further. It’s like folks respond to my tears in a weird way and then blame me for manipulating them. It’s so frustrating. It is like telling me I’m blinking in a way that causes them to feel awkward or cave-in to my demands.

Copyright http://www.jamesvandermemes.com/

Unfortunately a lack of accessibility is pretty well endemic in progressive circles in general. It’s especially bad with what seems like a sudden proliferation of videos (thanks, youtube) some of them from really smart people — but ALL THE DAMN TIME you see people post the video and think they’ve done enough by saying “Gosh, I know there’s no transcript/description but this is REALLY IMPORTANT and maybe someone will do a transcript for us!” without thinking about how that sounds to people who can’t access the video.

Because what it sounds like is “This is really important but I don’t give a fuck about including you in the conversation about it because you don’t work just like I do. Putting any effort into including you in the conversation is totally beneath me because I care so little about you. If you’re REALLY LUCKY maybe someone who actually does give a damn about you will step up. Otherwise, piss off.”

So yes. I’ve been a jerk and I apologize. I went back and added transcripts for Jay Smooth’s video on the policy page, and there is a transcript for AthiaC’s video as well. I found a great community on DreamWidth that let’s people request transcripts (or just volunteer to do transcripts!) where I’ve requested the first episode of Virgie Tovar’s series to be transcribed. I’m going to be working on a transcription of Nicki Minja’s video too. In the future, I won’t be posting videos without a transcript.

Now, to finish this post off with a word of wisdom, Andrea shares with folks when it is a good time to pet service animals:

So what should you do when you see wonderful shoes a service dog and its handler? The answer is easy: ignore the dog. No matter how much you want to talk about the dog, touch the dog, ask the dog’s handler questions about the dog, tell the dog’s handler about your own dog — don’t. Treat the handler exactly like you are busy treating all the people in the world who do not have dogs with them. If you have a customer service job, or you actually need (not just want) to approach the dog handler, speak to the person, not the dog. Ignore the dog, no matter how hard it is for you. A service dog is not “just” a dog, to its handler it’s a trusted partner and a vital part of what its handler needs to get through the world. Remember too that service dog handlers deserve privacy about their medical issues just as much as everyone else, and asking “Why do you have the dog?” or “what does the dog do for you?” is exactly like asking “So, will you tell me about all your medical problems?” (i.e. none of your business).

In a follow-up post about the responses he has received concerning his letter and public humiliation Vance Gilbert wrote:

See, Black people not only live in the day to day world, but we live somewhere between total race paranoia and absolute to-the-letter stereotype. We people of color certainly aren’t done coming to terms with eons of inequality and racism, and we carry its residual madness, uninvitedly, everywhere. I’m first to admit that. We are no more totally realized individuals than you are.

And let’s be clear, I didn’t get snatched off of a plane because I was Black. Nor was I removed just because I was reading an antique book of aviation. It’s the combo plate that set this thing in motion. Paranoia needs a hook for its coat. That hook has historically been race, religion, and such, and we work like dogs to teach our children otherwise.

We will tell the truth to our children, and to your children, that there is no difference between people no matter their color, for as long as we can.

Then we will lie to our children, and to your children, for as long as we can about how people do not look at each other differently thanks to hue and shade.

Then at some point, these children will learn that we weren’t done, and that so much is up to them.

The post contains some really great responses from people who have contacted Vance on the matter. I’m glad he decided to share them with us. I recommend you pop over and check them out. Also, be sure to tell United Airlines how this situation was not okay and they need to address it ASAP. We need to stand behind folks who are fighting the fight (if we can, of course). Here is a response I thought was the best:

But you know what, I too—a white man—have been profiled: 6 times out of 10 if I go to a discount store in a non-white neighborhood I get someone coming to me asking me questions as if I am the store manager. And when I stop them and say no? Sometimes they think I am security or a cop. Now, do they ever say “Sorry, I thought you were in a position of power here because you are white and this is a discount store so why else are you here…” Never. But that is what happens. Doesn’t happen to me in Chinatown or Little Odessa… Only in non-white neighborhoods. You know why? Because America still has some massive race issues to deal with. And it does go both ways. But as a white person in America the chances of me being negatively racially profiled because I am white are pretty much zilch.

Tonight I was biking my fat ass up a hill when someone drove by in a car and yelled “COW!”

At first it stung a little because we all know that word is loaded with an intense history of hatred towards the feminine and is specifically linked to the size of a persons body and their perceived desirability or sexual currency in dominant culture.

I kept on biking, and I let my fat assed rage take me to the top of the hill before I stopped. Then I promptly burst into tears.

I burst in to tears because biking up hills is something that is a really big deal for me and a huge form of resistance against a culture that does not want my body to be seen in public, especially not while exerting energy via exercise and I was really proud of myself

I burst into tears because I am EMOTIONAL (and that’s okay!) and because words like COW and FAT and BITCH and WHORE have been trying to make me, and many other people invisible for my entire fucking life and even before that and I feel pretty over it

I burst into tears because words like that serve to reinforce a world where fat bodies are only seen in certain contexts and have kept me and many other people I know from moving our bodies in self-determined ways that reflect our different abilities and bodies and make us feel empowered

I burst into tears because that person probably just hated who they were and wanted to make me feel bad so that they could, for a moment feel cool, or funny, or like they had power over me. I feel sad that we live in a world that makes us do that to each other

And then I laughed because I am so over feeling upset about those things or holding them in my heart because of the wonderful support of people who follow me and read my words (because you really do make me stronger)

And I laughed because I am so grateful for the support of the people in my life who are real with me and honest and want me to feel empowered, like my supportive and amazing brother who was with me through this experience

And I laughed because I wished I had yelled “that’s FAT cow to you! if you’re gonna insult me, at least do it properly”.

I share this story with you in the hopes that I continue to have the strength to use my body as a form of resistance, on my own terms and in ways that make me feel joy. I share this because maybe someone will get something from my story and use it as they wish, be it hope for the future, or fuel for resistance.

in love and rage,

A FAT COW

(aka majestic legay)

HARDER, BETTER, FATTER, STRONGER FOREVER AND EVER

Coincidentally I found this video and a Ms. Magazine article about Nicki Minaj all in the same day. (You can find an HD version on MTV’s website; however, it requires watching a commercial.)

I found the video to be touching and frustrating and a super tribute to those out there who are resisting in the spotlight. It was a moment of incredible vulnerability, strength, and determination.

The article in Ms. magazine doesn’t really have anything to do with Nicki Minaji, though I thought it helped set the scene. Janell Hobson shares with us the story of “Sara (Saartjie) Baartman, a South African woman who was exhibited in England and in Paris as the ‘Hottentot Venus‘ between 1810 and 1815.” Just a few years before Mary Shelley wrote Frankenstein.

The premise of Baartman’s Hottentot Venus show focused on her supposedly too-large behind and the belief in her “missing link” status as a “Hottentot,” a now derogatory term used to describe the Khoisan ethnic group residing at the Cape of South Africa. That group was believed to be so “primitive,” straddling the line between human and animal, that only they would find someone like Baartman to be a “Venus.” Any white man who found Baartman desirable was in danger of “reverting” back to his “primitive” form (even though Victorian ladies donned bustles later in the century).

Shelley, who wrote her science fiction as a criticism of scientific violations of the natural world and the “mad” scientists who obsessed over “penetrating nature’s secrets,” may have had men like Cuvier in mind. Cuvier literally penetrated such secrets in his dissection and preservation of Baartman’s brain and genital organs. His thesis, which compared Baartman’s genitalia to those of orangutans, formed the basis for much of 19th-century scientific racism, which later evolved into eugenics. Of course present-day science is quick to remind us that race is a social construct and not based in biology, but popular culture can keep this strain of thinking alive with its reductionist representations of black (and white) female sexuality.

As Hobson points out in the comment section of her article, the connection between Nicki Minaj’s SNL skit and the Hottentot Venus through the decades relies on the universal understanding and agreement that a Black woman’s body is funny. That is a powerful idea.

I found this courtesy of Jessica Jarchow over at tangledupinlace on Tumblr. It has been one of the more adorable, amazing things I’ve seen for awhile. I love Virgie Tovar’s energy, style, and flare. She is super smart and in your face and makes a point to be clued-in to privilege and intersectionality. This isn’t a scripted, professionally manufactured video series. Oh no. This is Virgie, face-to-face, sharing her shit with us. It’s powerful in a lot of ways.

According to the NOLOSE 2011 presenter bios page:

Virgie Tovar is a fat semi-socialist fauxhemian smut-writing Latina high femme with an MA in Human Sexuality. She was voted “Best Sex Writer” by the San Francisco Bay Guardian in 2008. Virgie doubles as Dulce de Lecherous, and is a member of GLITTERACTION! A Radical Queerlesque Cabaret.

You can check out her Facebook page and her blog at the National Sexuality Resource Center. In addition, you can find Virgie at Good Vibrations Magazine and, of course, on YouTube.