I found the interface of Snapchat to be less than intuitive and I had to read a couple of different articles online about how to use it. Here’s my synopsis for the Snapping newbie.
You guys, last year I produced Dollypalooza on a faithful impetus after a really profound and spiritual visit to Dollywood during a difficult time in my life. (Dara was going through chemo, my super generous friend and philanthropist Jess whisked me off to Dollywood, we went to Night of 1,000 Dollys in Knoxville and couldn't get into the club it was so crowded.) So I risked literally every penny I had to secure the $2,000 bar minimum at the venue and the stipends I promised all of the best Dolly performance artists I knew in NYC and Philly. It ended up being a huge success, even though the show started at 11PM! We also raised $1,400 for Dolly's Imagination Library charity through our raffle and Jess, our matching donor!
This year I wondered if I got the venue for an earlier show (7PM doors, 8PM show) if we could get more folks in the house and if we could raise even more for the Imagination Library. I am aiming for $10,000. Maybe that's bananas, but we worked really hard to get silent auction prizes and raffle prizes that might get us close! Like Dolly says, "You'll never know what you're capable of until you're brave enough to try!"
This is a letter I wrote to Oprah Magazine in response to a call for reader input in the August 2015 issue. It is in response to the totally banal and fatphobic response to a reader question in O Magazine that folks should wear crop tops “If (and only if) they have flat stomachs.” I generally skim or skip the style and beauty content in O Magazine every month because it’s written towards folks who are seeking a more neutral style than I am looking for. But given the deep internet controversy I thought this was a great time to offer Oprah some unsolicited advice about how she could be doing better.
Since posts are better with photos of lots of folks with different bodies, I have asked my friends to be part of a crop top army, their photos and links are throughout this post.
When I posted my thoughts about being a good ally to fat folks by getting neutral about food, Dara and I have had a lot of conversations about it, including a pretty startling revelation that I wasn't aware of. It turns out that Dara, working to get neutral about her food self-talk in order to be a better ally to me as a fat person, was able to transition to a low-sugar anti-cancer lifestyle a lot easier with food neutrality than if she had kept up agonizing about food being "bad" or "good." Her words on this are below.
Nothing bums me out faster when I'm about to eat some food than someone commenting about food. Like this, "Oh I'm being SO BAD! I NEVER eat cupcakes!" Or "I really SHOULDN'T EAT THIS!" Or "I wish I could eat THAT but it would make me SO FAT!" Or "You're lucky you can eat whatever you WANT I will blow up like a BALOON!!!"
So what do you do when you're surrounded by the I'M SO BADs of the world?
When I'm in situations like that with people judging food I have a variety of responses. I'm pretty secure in my body and have a pretty deep analysis of the fatphobia in our culture so I'm pretty resilient to the commentary. I'm also a fat person whose reputation and activism often precedes her so I feel pretty confident piping up with something educational in the moment.
Here are some scripts that I employ...
Activist movements, as in almost all things, can suck you dry—there is always more to be done, more people to reach out to, more actions to plan, more art to make, more reaching out. But at a certain point you have to be able to say, this is my limit. But we’re not socialized in a way to know what our limits are, to think thoughtfully about our capacity, and how to use self care in order to build our capacity. We're not socialized to be able to say, "Enough, I can't do this any longer." I've seen it wear down on people until disease forces them to make big life changes.
My favorite takeaway was the authenticity quote by Kanye West. He had told Kim Kardashian West, his wife and Bruce Jenner's step-daughter, this anecdote.
Look, I can be married to the most beautiful woman in the world, and I am. I can have the most beautiful little daughter in the world, and I have that. But I’m nothing if I can’t be me. If I can’t be true to myself, they don’t mean anything.
Kanye is exactly right. When you aren’t authentic to yourself, it is nearly impossible to enjoy your life. I spent a long time being depressed, suicidal, self-hating and body hating. It robbed me of the pleasures of the everyday. Making choices and taking risks to be my authentic self has saved my life.
I wanted to tie up the loose ends about this because I don't like leaving a story hanging and also I want folks who are not using their government name on Facebook to know my story and get prepared.
I thought long and hard about whether or not to engage with Facebook ever again. On principle, I don't like that they require legal names or name authentication like this. But I have several friends who pointed out I've worked hard to get where I am and the body liberation work I do is best served by connecting with folks who I already know.
What I ended up submitting to Facebook on Monday night was a picture of my Driver's License, which has my government name, birthdate and photo like Facebook asked for. I submitted two supporting documents showing my name as Bevin Branlandingham.
Ever since Leslie Feinberg died from Lyme Disease, I've known we need to talk more about Lyme Disease in the queer community. I didn't know how to have that conversation, so I just started to bone up and educate myself.
I watched the documentary Under Our Skin, free streaming on You Tube, which according to folks I know with Lyme, it is an accurate portrayal of what it's like to seek treatment for Lyme Disease and it is shitty. It's the kind of helpless I feel when I see really big world problems that need solutions. But I know what I do have control over and that's learning more about it, asking questions and opening conversations.
After the day's events, I went to Facebook, thinking I could maybe talk to some friends who have been on lengthy dog diagnostic journeys. Or talk to some of my working class femme friends about being self-employed. Like so many times I've gone to Facebook, a nice aggregate of people I actually know in real life, I went to my phone browser and popped it in. I was greeted with a login screen, which is odd because I generally stay logged in to Facebook.
Once I logged in, Facebook asked me for my driver's license. Until I provide them some kind of identity verification from their list, I am locked out of Facebook. Not only am I locked out, but my friends report that they cannot find me, cannot message me and cannot see my profile. Facebook has made it so I no longer exist on their system.