tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15550074892840444522024-02-07T11:17:41.376-08:00Four-Color Princesses - by Dee Emm ElmsAmazing Women of FictionDee Emm Elmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14053652749413575579noreply@blogger.comBlogger47125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1555007489284044452.post-60028924164431203532016-12-27T23:06:00.000-08:002016-12-27T23:07:14.201-08:00"Hope is not lost today. It is found." (Princess/General Leia Organa Solo)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Coming SoonDee Emm Elmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14053652749413575579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1555007489284044452.post-56328108658057952582014-10-26T09:56:00.000-07:002014-10-26T10:13:50.404-07:00"You wanted adventure? How's this?" (Nyota Uhura)<br />
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Communication.</div>
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Now that's a daunting concept.</div>
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And this is a daunting piece for me to write.</div>
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Some of you might not think so. Some of you might question how it could be difficult for anyone -- either communicating, or writing about it.</div>
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But for me? It's really daunting -- because communication, for me, is, in and of itself, daunting; it's daunting because I have a hard time getting through to other people, and always have had trouble with that ... even when I was a little kid. I always have -- and, maybe, always will -- have a hard time getting across even the most basic concepts to others. Not the best trait for someone who wants to be a professional writer, you know?</div>
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Now, of course, you could argue that this is because I'm autistic, or that it's because I'm stupid. I've heard both premises suggested, plenty of times, in my life. I'm not sure which one is true. Heck, I've been told I'm stupid more often than I've been told just about anything in my life -- for dozens and dozens of reasons, ranging from the fact that I have trouble communicating to the fact that, to this day, I still love cartoons as much as I did when I was a kid.</div>
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I try not to let the insults get to me, the same way I tried back when I was a little kid.</div>
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But it doesn't always work. And sometimes, I lose my temper about it. And sometimes the days can seem long, when I'm contemplating how a person who might not be the brightest person in the world can objectively figure out how smart they are. And when I feel like that, it's an ugly cycle I've talked about before ... and it can make me feel like I should just curl up in a ball away from everyone. <i>After all</i>, I reason, <i>if I never even try to communicate with anyone, how can I ever fail to communicate with them? And how could they ever accuse me of being stupid?</i></div>
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And, when I feel like that, which isn't as infrequently as I'd like ... well, those are times when I'm most in need of help from my heroes. And one of the heroes who helps me the most in times like that is Nyota Uhura.</div>
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Because Nyota Uhura has been my hero since the first time I saw <i>Star Trek</i>, when I was seven years old, visiting a friend's house. I don't recall the specifics of the episode -- despite my pride in my memory, it's not perfectly photographic in the sense that there are unfortunate gaps. But I remember that Uhura wasn't on any kind of planet-side mission, or commanding the Enterprise, or making a bamboo cannon, or running from giant rubber fried-egg aliens. </div>
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Instead, she was doing what she did most of the time in the original show -- sitting at what appeared to be an incredibly-complicated communications center, with her earpiece in her ear.</div>
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And communicating. And this was awesome to me.</div>
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And this was awesome to me on a lot of different levels. It was awesome to me because, up until Uhura, I had never been able to see anyone on television -- who got to talk, and to be respected, anyway -- who looked anything like my best and fiercest and most beloved childhood friend, whom I'll call CK because I can't currently confirm her approval with inclusion in this piece. Now, of course, this wasn't exactly the most critical, media-savvy view of what Uhura meant to a lot of people, and I wish that I'd been smarter and more aware of broader social issues when I was that age, but I'm including it here because it was important to me. Honesty is part of this blog and I feel it would be dishonest not to mention that here -- because it's what got me to first notice Uhura, this crucial difference in how Nyota was portrayed so positively while also looking like my friend, which was something I almost never got to see in the media I consumed at that time.</div>
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But it was awesome to me to see a black woman who had such a positive portrayal, in direct opposition to the negative views of my family, who were uniformly racist and deeply-bigoted. I knew the horrible things my family said about my best friend and other black girls or women weren't true. Seeing that represented lifted my spirits and gave me hope that not everyone shared the ugliness that came from my parents and more distant relatives.</div>
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Of course, CK would come to love Uhura, too, once I introduced her to <i>Star Trek</i>, which she had never seen. There were no DVDs or Blu-Rays in 1979, after all, and so -- having tracked down what the show was called and when it was on -- my best friend and I sat and watched and thought Uhura was just the coolest. Not Captain Kirk. Not Mister Spock. Not Scotty. Not Sulu. Not Chekov. But Uhura. And I loved Uhura so much that I even wanted to dress like her. When a store near my house carried novelty t-shirts done up in the likenesses of the command uniforms of the various <i>Star Trek</i> crew members, I told my folks I wanted the red one. Of course, I told them that the color red was like the color Scotty wore, which was also true, but I was choosing it for Uhura. I wasn't exactly the bravest kid, as these blogs have shown. But I chose Uhura, then, and I still choose Uhura, now, to top the list, whenever I'm asked who my favorite <i>Star Trek</i> characters are.</div>
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But it wasn't just because she was like my best friend, of course.</div>
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She also had a skill that I considered to be one of the most precious abilities a person could have.</div>
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She had the skill of communication.</div>
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"Hailing frequencies open," she would say -- or other lines similar to that. And, at the time, I didn't know what "hailing" or "frequencies" really were. </div>
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So I had to imagine them, because when I didn't understand something I would imagine it. </div>
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And so I thought of hail. </div>
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I thought of a storm of information, all raining down around Uhura's ears -- the way hailstorms would pelt my senses with chaotic noise, with an endless rain of sensory information that meant close to nothing and, for the most part, usually signified less. And, so, this all made sense to me. Of course, that's what it must sound like in Uhura's earpiece -- the endless noise of space. And, to me, the endless noise of space didn't mean the silence of a vacuum. I knew some of my sciences at that age, and I knew that space was supposed to be silent. But I also knew that things on planets made noise, and explosions made noise if you were near enough to them, and people's voices all mashed together would sound like crashing waves of agonizing dissonance. </div>
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And so I imagined that this must be what Uhura was hearing in her ear piece -- the sounds of whole planets of people's voices all mixed together, from thousands of worlds; and I imagined the sounds of whole galaxies exploding, or being born; and I thought of the noise of epic conflicts across a universe that was very likely at war -- because conflict seemed everywhere on Earth, so it had to be the same in space; and I imagined that Uhura's communications desk had the power to hear the entirety of all the noise in the universe, or to narrow that range down to focus on one cricket's chirping on a planet a billion light-years away from the Enterprise.</div>
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And yet ... she handled it.</div>
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She<i> handled</i> it.</div>
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She was like me, in the sense that -- to my way of thinking -- she had to sift through the mountains and mountains of noisy data that made up her efforts to understand what she was hearing -- and she totally did it.</div>
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And she did it ... with calm.</div>
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And that amazed me. And it soothed me. And it made me feel calm, with all the noise assaulting my head on a daily basis. It didn't solve things, but it <i>helped. </i>It helped me to see a woman who, as I imagined it, was being assaulted with all the communications -- all the <i>sounds</i> -- in the known universe, and yet could listen quietly to them -- could take them in ... and <i>understand</i> them ... and sift out what was important ... and then tell people -- in the briefest fashion possible -- what they needed to know to do <i>their</i> jobs.</div>
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And that was key to me -- because Uhura wasn't just listening. She was also hearing. And understanding. And communicating right back to the universe. And she was processing all of this in a matter of critical seconds -- seconds that a Captain, or an Engineer, or a Science Officer counted on to do whatever it was they needed to do for their jobs.</div>
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And this meant, to me, that Uhura had to not only do what she was doing, and sift the information, and understand it, and communicate -- but also had to understand everyone else's job, too!</div>
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It wasn't enough for her to merely be good at communications. She had to be good at science, to know what she needed to know and understand what needed to be understood in order to sift through a mass of useless data and find the parts that Spock needed to know about and condense it down into a few seconds' worth of statements -- because the crew almost never had any time for more than a few seconds to decide what to do, to pick which action to take. And it wasn't enough for her to merely be good at communications and science. She had to know how Engineers worked, so she could relay critical information from the Engineering Deck to the rest of the crew, or vice versa. She had to understand how to bridge those gaps in communication, or to make sure that there were no misunderstandings. And it wasn't enough for her to merely be good at communications and science and engineering. She had to be good at understanding medical information, which meant not only knowing how to communicate and comprehend medical issues on the Enterprise, but also how to handle complex medical situations where medics needed information relayed back and forth with only seconds to save lives. And it wasn't enough for her to merely be good at communications and science and engineering and medical issues -- she also had to know tactics, and strategy, so she could make sure what she said to Klingons or Romulans or other Federation ships was clear ... which also meant she needed to know other alien cultures. And other alien languages. And, on top of that, there was the constant barrage of the noise in her ear piece. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And yet, she would simply turn and say "Hailing frequencies are open, Captain." Like none of it got to her. Like none of it was overwhelming, even though it had to be overwhelming to <i>anyone.</i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And there's more.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu776bonCZEQc1JMsghKuIazF39bd50xo6sC3ge1Eoy6k4Plkc_sR7qXYbEmCD10a204jhKBxdx_EiaiSAm337ZMd9KQkvLbFFSC-ZQWrYv7oVaeC-oyVRHNaeyo5jGjWFlLswrRZQxEI/s1600/Nyota-Uhura-star-trek-the-movies-13224660-580-901.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu776bonCZEQc1JMsghKuIazF39bd50xo6sC3ge1Eoy6k4Plkc_sR7qXYbEmCD10a204jhKBxdx_EiaiSAm337ZMd9KQkvLbFFSC-ZQWrYv7oVaeC-oyVRHNaeyo5jGjWFlLswrRZQxEI/s1600/Nyota-Uhura-star-trek-the-movies-13224660-580-901.jpg" height="400" width="256" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
As perfectly-portrayed in the original series by <i><a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0629667/?ref_=nv_sr_1">Nichelle Nichols</a>, </i>Uhura was also depicted as a woman who was clearly the respected equal of all the men who made up the rest of the central crew. There weren't, to my child's mind, issues of gender being discussed. I know, now, as an adult, that there were problems with some aspects of how Uhura was occasionally presented onscreen -- but, for the most part, she was treated as the equal of all the other central command characters.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And this gave me hope. It gave me so much hope for the future. And it was and is hope I needed then and need now. Because of where things are in this world when it comes to women and how we are portrayed, I want to think there can be a day when it is handled the way Uhura -- presented at the character's best -- got to be portrayed, with humanity and pride ... skilled and capable and professional and self-confident and self-determined. I needed that. I need that. We need that.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And we still do, no matter who is playing the character.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzwJzBC6P5x2vGJDelbpJrGf4j2ofQlyKf9lofPjfxmuww_wtcGvs22iexv5BYQLH3mN2sUb6TYwOKaak1UV1RxBMGiVmuXPkRE12gV6Sa4Q57L-olUVZV6QnLATqeiwp9jDebDVFwnKQ/s1600/Nyota_Uhura,_2258.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzwJzBC6P5x2vGJDelbpJrGf4j2ofQlyKf9lofPjfxmuww_wtcGvs22iexv5BYQLH3mN2sUb6TYwOKaak1UV1RxBMGiVmuXPkRE12gV6Sa4Q57L-olUVZV6QnLATqeiwp9jDebDVFwnKQ/s1600/Nyota_Uhura,_2258.jpg" height="320" width="273" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Now, of course, to that end, I want to hand all respect to<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0757855/?ref_=tt_cl_t3"> Zoe Saldana</a>, as this is principally a piece about Uhura as a character, but Saldana's take on Uhura hasn't been given as much opportunity to stand out yet, because of what I consider to be severe problems with the portrayal of women in the <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0009190/?ref_=nmbio_bio_nm">J. J. Abrams</a>' <i>Star Trek</i> films. But I felt it necessary to mention her here, because Zoe is clearly doing everything she can with the character, even though it's not enough because of the restrictions placed upon her by scripts and stories that are less-than-friendly toward women. I'll also add "Hang in there, Zoe." She's fighting a tough fight to be seen by a disinterested studio and behind-the-scenes "creative" team who clearly hold animus toward women and people of color being at the center of a big Hollywood movie, let alone a character who represents both. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
You'd almost think the "creative" team behind the revised Star Trek isn't interested in communicating with the fans about what we want to see in terms of Uhura (and Sulu, and ... and ... and ... )</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But, ah, there's that word again -- communication.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhxePTzU_fWgy8TERa7gDhABVHfSODF2Vi_FbxgOgIWPtTSAW8dr21zVQCLoe4wJumBD9jn9R-qKwSF1HMMhPsSajf4wUy76nu6ZgBlutbrFFSKRLRRq8myacCAz55L1SXo67m5JCtND8/s1600/Nyota_Uhura,_2293.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhxePTzU_fWgy8TERa7gDhABVHfSODF2Vi_FbxgOgIWPtTSAW8dr21zVQCLoe4wJumBD9jn9R-qKwSF1HMMhPsSajf4wUy76nu6ZgBlutbrFFSKRLRRq8myacCAz55L1SXo67m5JCtND8/s1600/Nyota_Uhura,_2293.jpg" height="290" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And communication through art and entertainment, in our culture right now, has become less important than other considerations -- like perceived marketability, merchandising, international distribution rights. I heard it once said that where once our stories were sagas, we now instead have franchises. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Like burger chains. Like disposable elevator music.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Like plastic.</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpWRcjmXiE6TcVRkAdveNJDzydHClb9ICvNARcvN_F3kDCzPNf1uOlYxYa317zaVlp0uNHmW_U161zaPuVJB3ygd2I0Gen_7ox-3WmGB0BRAAAWzUgupOhpD_QO8Umra2LDtRS7WuKcmw/s1600/0071-playmates-star-trek-uhura2+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpWRcjmXiE6TcVRkAdveNJDzydHClb9ICvNARcvN_F3kDCzPNf1uOlYxYa317zaVlp0uNHmW_U161zaPuVJB3ygd2I0Gen_7ox-3WmGB0BRAAAWzUgupOhpD_QO8Umra2LDtRS7WuKcmw/s1600/0071-playmates-star-trek-uhura2+(1).jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Except characters don't have to be plastic. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
They can still mean something -- and still do -- to many, many people. They can be important, and the people portraying them can be considered as more than props for merchandise.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And characters -- and the actors who play them -- can have real impact on the real world, and make real changes in people's lives by the work they do. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHVpkrmj-GrwZ83RUg473kv70AjVREcR7QB4QC4PUwThD8xk9D5z7iQuouqVFRiKjte0u8gV9KYH7D5nVxp-dloROS-yDzCdHgZSW6OdavS2VfHu1dWqOS2OJKRpWL2etw2dadHjoS5yU/s1600/obama_uhura_full.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHVpkrmj-GrwZ83RUg473kv70AjVREcR7QB4QC4PUwThD8xk9D5z7iQuouqVFRiKjte0u8gV9KYH7D5nVxp-dloROS-yDzCdHgZSW6OdavS2VfHu1dWqOS2OJKRpWL2etw2dadHjoS5yU/s1600/obama_uhura_full.jpg" height="400" width="267" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Characters like Uhura can -- and do -- and will -- inspire us. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
They will help us understand the importance of communication. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
They will help us understand what it means to reach out and communicate with others.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJbSdoNzVD-mTG_3v98uzwsr5mgVgT9S5JVCh0tDDJFEGoWh69tMbSDP6xEFs3aMWwnTF5lK4ol6ZEu_iF726vUN06OlwpWms89g20dMIu26p9fS_YjvKAaCKDExMr_ySupwx6SpT7fR8/s1600/Nyota_Uhura_Comforts_Spock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJbSdoNzVD-mTG_3v98uzwsr5mgVgT9S5JVCh0tDDJFEGoWh69tMbSDP6xEFs3aMWwnTF5lK4ol6ZEu_iF726vUN06OlwpWms89g20dMIu26p9fS_YjvKAaCKDExMr_ySupwx6SpT7fR8/s1600/Nyota_Uhura_Comforts_Spock.jpg" height="168" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And you know what?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Communicating with others is what I do now.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
For a living.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx9IfqhUqZ6oLljFXd7Ho9gy6AZ7Jei328gFfxe7B3iEnLk8N0jTygblGoupQcxxJDwZZ4M1i-TFNgGReLe31Wgry5j_obMiJ8hhXN92Y4KEJcVp1sFJa3JWV8EeyyKpF5yjDj0dnwVMk/s1600/Star_Trek_Uhura3_2014_freecomputerdesktopwallpaper_1440.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx9IfqhUqZ6oLljFXd7Ho9gy6AZ7Jei328gFfxe7B3iEnLk8N0jTygblGoupQcxxJDwZZ4M1i-TFNgGReLe31Wgry5j_obMiJ8hhXN92Y4KEJcVp1sFJa3JWV8EeyyKpF5yjDj0dnwVMk/s1600/Star_Trek_Uhura3_2014_freecomputerdesktopwallpaper_1440.jpg" height="200" width="320" /></a></div>
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In the day-to-day work I do that pays the bills to keep the lights on, guess what I do?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I'm at a desk, wearing a headset, surrounded by computers ... helping people from all over the world. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My job is ... to communicate.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvmW754gFSo-d_mOqEhMH2HVyGzHfn31J0a-HmaCuPdaTksZTM9cfZC72gqULZUvon-CyKub-M5a6JV9sTdvCLytiwm6c5EkMhjEXM0zTsTFwfreYf04rSfBtD5TOYeFE3RcyQbst0Jys/s1600/uhura28.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvmW754gFSo-d_mOqEhMH2HVyGzHfn31J0a-HmaCuPdaTksZTM9cfZC72gqULZUvon-CyKub-M5a6JV9sTdvCLytiwm6c5EkMhjEXM0zTsTFwfreYf04rSfBtD5TOYeFE3RcyQbst0Jys/s1600/uhura28.jpg" height="400" width="288" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And I believed in myself enough to get that job because of women like Uhura who helped me when I was growing up, and because of the people who portrayed and wrote her to be so powerful a symbol of what women can become, and achieve, and represent. And how women can be smart, and skilled, and professional -- but also real, and vulnerable sometimes, and deep.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And now, as I sit at that desk on that headset, I'm doing a job I love where I'm listening to find the clues to what people I talk to need to know, so I can do the necessary research and find it out. I have to hear horrible stories of struggle, to find empathy for people going through difficult times, and have strength to share their hardships, and to help them direct their actions. And I have to know law, science, medicine, industry, art, culture, literature, business, finance ... and connect with people who live all over the place sharing the common need for help.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So it's ... sort of like ... kind of like ... a certain other person's job.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOEVCUBDsZSjSeq3FC-TJT6GOrClXcvxhIU9TPJA6k5zJQIVR-RbL_LMvNXWi5XYAdgZsBT3aNZu9xFlyeQoeDV3GpWQR2yJPuwwqnpWO_xN8xzF56J4AnVDd1wdK8fabHG9-NJUG37RU/s1600/uhura+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOEVCUBDsZSjSeq3FC-TJT6GOrClXcvxhIU9TPJA6k5zJQIVR-RbL_LMvNXWi5XYAdgZsBT3aNZu9xFlyeQoeDV3GpWQR2yJPuwwqnpWO_xN8xzF56J4AnVDd1wdK8fabHG9-NJUG37RU/s1600/uhura+(2).jpg" height="313" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So when I wore that red shirt that I knew was Uhura's that my parents believed was Scotty's, I was actually wearing the uniform of what I would someday be ... to a degree.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I'm not in charge of communications on a starship, of course. Just my own life.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And, in my work -- and my life -- my hailing frequencies are open. And thanks to Nyota Uhura, and Zoe Sandoval, and most of all Nichelle Nichols, I finally understand ... on so many levels ... what that really, truly means.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiSa2-VrhzfeJhckengIGtluH93mHaySVIekI0_MLGjXpmUfu3u2rZ5q0_PwFNiP7vmyprLjwvn2gW6_J3zTpt10vY_I8C9O9Ogo2WlsSkCRaZDZyFtqkYWn85zustROoL26xeH68XT1A/s1600/t1larg.uhura.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiSa2-VrhzfeJhckengIGtluH93mHaySVIekI0_MLGjXpmUfu3u2rZ5q0_PwFNiP7vmyprLjwvn2gW6_J3zTpt10vY_I8C9O9Ogo2WlsSkCRaZDZyFtqkYWn85zustROoL26xeH68XT1A/s1600/t1larg.uhura.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></div>
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Dee Emm Elmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14053652749413575579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1555007489284044452.post-79913002020731124012014-09-27T22:31:00.003-07:002014-09-28T10:22:50.989-07:00" ... and NOBODY tells me what I can or can't do!" (Skylar Storm aka Connecticut Valentine)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh90j5KZZCyMYSaEWYOCmBsy1samNVm87vcewbM7SRkBkF3Oi2TbmQ5S6GOM0cB43y1hORnlcUBUx5tDehMcf10twuvIH1a1C0P8N42YQl9ngk5eqvtPx5VOo6NRezbRMaH0b6xzQ8VKxE/s1600/modifiedler.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh90j5KZZCyMYSaEWYOCmBsy1samNVm87vcewbM7SRkBkF3Oi2TbmQ5S6GOM0cB43y1hORnlcUBUx5tDehMcf10twuvIH1a1C0P8N42YQl9ngk5eqvtPx5VOo6NRezbRMaH0b6xzQ8VKxE/s1600/modifiedler.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
I've been thinking about how I cope with loss in my life.<br />
<br />
Have you ever lost something in your life that you truly cherished? I probably shouldn't even have to ask that. <br />
<br />
Most of us have, at some point in our lives. But, of course, not all losses are the same, and not all of them have the same impact on us. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiS10xWDGB4dqvi4lwdiOpHicwoRFOkxzUHm1idpmRcljbmByV2q5ouTYUvi_rph7ObYmZHRY0O3NE87c5UpiFS7Z0wQHEs2DUQ4xfNy8F6lz9pYUWcMWCHHF1gHGJEXo5wJ9-dNF1zmU/s1600/gameover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiS10xWDGB4dqvi4lwdiOpHicwoRFOkxzUHm1idpmRcljbmByV2q5ouTYUvi_rph7ObYmZHRY0O3NE87c5UpiFS7Z0wQHEs2DUQ4xfNy8F6lz9pYUWcMWCHHF1gHGJEXo5wJ9-dNF1zmU/s1600/gameover.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Sometimes, a loss can be trivial, inconsequential, a matter of happenstance. Such losses hold no importance to us. They simply happen, and we move on.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But not all losses are like that.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Some losses hurt ... truly, and painfully.</div>
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQt77pu_2Hjmnd36BC4HsnS68GRSaw93Rb2h9TT_wMBCiqcVFdENGVmsEFZJRyIjOd0pJXZ_HMLdTOxUNrsfoQwrfa3dvLMyeLJFuXTPtvajyl6bDJmpqbVcON4l3ViSJ0cQu2pJ6QD9E/s1600/loss.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQt77pu_2Hjmnd36BC4HsnS68GRSaw93Rb2h9TT_wMBCiqcVFdENGVmsEFZJRyIjOd0pJXZ_HMLdTOxUNrsfoQwrfa3dvLMyeLJFuXTPtvajyl6bDJmpqbVcON4l3ViSJ0cQu2pJ6QD9E/s1600/loss.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Because sometimes, these losses are personal. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In fact, I think that's what really <i>makes</i> the worst kinds of losses truly hurt the most ...</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
... because, when we suffer these kinds of losses, we also feel like we've somehow lost pieces of ourselves.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpmbsXR2qV1KFaDxxrt5yhcKG3xyO282aSlayYFYa1rKDkzVm3R3nPJKZzi9gapKpHgtBpbYLqo_M5018jh7_IfAcPsecXEc_xztMfDmicDRlPu3TBRse49BDzMGj4XLEc3e_Q8rLCW2M/s1600/puzzlepieces.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpmbsXR2qV1KFaDxxrt5yhcKG3xyO282aSlayYFYa1rKDkzVm3R3nPJKZzi9gapKpHgtBpbYLqo_M5018jh7_IfAcPsecXEc_xztMfDmicDRlPu3TBRse49BDzMGj4XLEc3e_Q8rLCW2M/s1600/puzzlepieces.jpg" /></a></div>
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It's been the case in my own life. Because I've suffered a lot of losses. And a lot of them were personal. And a lot of those losses have really, really hurt me.</div>
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And, when I've hurt like that in my life, I've often needed outside help to get to where I can feel better. In times like that, I've needed more than just outside help, in fact. I've needed heroes.</div>
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And, sometimes, in coping with the toughest losses ... I've needed the help of what people refer to as super-heroes.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi_VWFkUhjMydQgkY4_DQSd4BPWucumwRkS3lpDKiI5ypBFG7h_ri6btsPL8P9p1E3OuDQiM6kejvOeQjyZtdT3KJin7dw-xqMIyuZcxq9KjbHWPIVfHlpQGxZEn5w-q9y0_jcrbcDTIE/s1600/heroes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi_VWFkUhjMydQgkY4_DQSd4BPWucumwRkS3lpDKiI5ypBFG7h_ri6btsPL8P9p1E3OuDQiM6kejvOeQjyZtdT3KJin7dw-xqMIyuZcxq9KjbHWPIVfHlpQGxZEn5w-q9y0_jcrbcDTIE/s1600/heroes.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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And I don't mean the kind of help super-heroes offer in the pages of comic books.<br />
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And I don't mean a rescue from a fire or flood, or protection against a rampaging robot from outer-space.<br />
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But, every day, super-heroes help me, nonetheless. It's just a matter of <i>how</i> they help me that some people might never understand.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRQyeGMWuZMIq4LICxankiDtvlb7if9vLOdw_emIsj0ytXiEDMmhLEPqn4JfZrhLTdMxBdLVfIjAC1m8geU5m2JrZGOGY1cAVg3SnzkwjhAGgkRnViU459AE471lsgmB5Er_D8bxfbo7U/s1600/hers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRQyeGMWuZMIq4LICxankiDtvlb7if9vLOdw_emIsj0ytXiEDMmhLEPqn4JfZrhLTdMxBdLVfIjAC1m8geU5m2JrZGOGY1cAVg3SnzkwjhAGgkRnViU459AE471lsgmB5Er_D8bxfbo7U/s1600/hers.jpg" height="640" width="506" /></a></div>
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Because, for some people, super-heroes simply represent nothing more than escapism - the notion of getting away from real-world problems by reading about adventurous people who succeed in achieving easy-to-comprehend goals in simplistic narratives.</div>
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But super-heroes, for me, aren't at all about that kind of escape from one's problems.</div>
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For me, super-heroes are important because of what they <i>teach</i> me, and the <i>examples</i> that they set.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjJUuZUQrbh34MRab5j1yKK_RMHbpAK_iWZ6zWhBSDgdsqpsBnSp21e7wxX44AizZYB6iRGZg8ieoE_v25mfRIdY9cAPIi379zl-_R40rp_MSpxun7yHWUvZBM-e8tdeQVqfVNwTpglXc/s1600/captain_marvel___carol_danvers_by_rodavlasalvador-d73m8om.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjJUuZUQrbh34MRab5j1yKK_RMHbpAK_iWZ6zWhBSDgdsqpsBnSp21e7wxX44AizZYB6iRGZg8ieoE_v25mfRIdY9cAPIi379zl-_R40rp_MSpxun7yHWUvZBM-e8tdeQVqfVNwTpglXc/s1600/captain_marvel___carol_danvers_by_rodavlasalvador-d73m8om.jpg" height="640" width="414" /></a></div>
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Because. even though super-heroes are fictional, they can - when their stories are crafted with wisdom and care - tell us real truths.</div>
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They can show us, despite their fantastical worlds, what kinds of people we can be in real life, if we're willing to try; if we're willing to aspire.</div>
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And I can think of no better way to illustrate this idea of teaching by example than by writing here about a super-hero called Skylar Storm.</div>
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Skylar Storm, for the uninitiated, is a character who appears on the <a href="http://disneyxd.disney.com/">Disney XD</a> television series <i><a href="http://disneyxd.disney.com/mighty-med">Mighty Med</a></i>. </div>
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The series centers around a pair of former slackers named Kaz and Oliver. The two have an encyclopedic knowledge of fantasy and science-fiction, having spent much of their lives reading comic books. However, in the world of <i>Mighty Med</i>, it turns out that those super-heroes are real - and that comic books chronicle their actual exploits. Because of all their accumulated knowledge, Kaz and Oliver wind up as doctors at a secret hospital where heroes go to recover from the wear and tear of their exploits.</div>
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And one such hero is Skylar Storm.</div>
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I should warn that at this point I'm going to be getting into some heavy spoilers about the show.</div>
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Skylar hails from the planet Caldera, and is one of the most fearless and courageous super-heroes in the universe of <i>Mighty Med. </i>We find out over the course of the first season of the show that Caldera is a tough and forbidding planet of treacherous terrain and active volcanos. Also, we discover that people on Caldera don't have families as we understand them on Earth. Instead, people from Caldera are born out of pods, in a fashion that is described in a way that seems similar to that which is portrayed in the opening scenes depicting Krypton in <i>Man of Steel. </i>And <i>v</i>iolence is commonplace on Caldera. A kick to the head is the accepted societal response in the rejection of a marriage proposal, for instance. </div>
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So it's no surprise that Skylar is an expert in fighting gymnastics and hand-to-hand combat.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv4g4IyUqsZvCL8OfZzbk9JUrEJ8wqXCcOiChyphenhyphenkYpDRGrbswoPkSnMwvFnmLL6U_GU3rIrRH5CYqg1K2RG4hZrxPIlQiu4dhTcPV-c0XFMQdAvh2_osdB4FR0dhtGCSsuJ1ARpRphyeIQ/s1600/hqdefault.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv4g4IyUqsZvCL8OfZzbk9JUrEJ8wqXCcOiChyphenhyphenkYpDRGrbswoPkSnMwvFnmLL6U_GU3rIrRH5CYqg1K2RG4hZrxPIlQiu4dhTcPV-c0XFMQdAvh2_osdB4FR0dhtGCSsuJ1ARpRphyeIQ/s1600/hqdefault.jpg" /></a></div>
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In addition, Calderans can have super-powers. Skylar, at the peak of her abilities, is described to have 24 different super-human abilities, including x-ray vision and the ability to create interdimensional portals that allow her make the millions-of-light-years journey from Caldera to Earth and back again.</div>
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But, as the story of <i>Mighty Med</i> begins, Skylar<i> isn't</i> at the peak of her abilities. </div>
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You see, in the first episode of the series, we are told that Skylar had a particularly grim encounter with a super-villain called The Annihilator.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwuKryOuV61XVEwsBNgLwdvo7_aQfoh0hD8PQAs-CeEpzd-nJEB-Uh4-ebD5yBJEztL_8_l0K84Bz9TS0ug5CVZrKt84NCepRKmhTzIzDn92UYZ8CgphD0Zhw0qGA-Nz1lkxdB45jYm50/s1600/maxresdefault+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwuKryOuV61XVEwsBNgLwdvo7_aQfoh0hD8PQAs-CeEpzd-nJEB-Uh4-ebD5yBJEztL_8_l0K84Bz9TS0ug5CVZrKt84NCepRKmhTzIzDn92UYZ8CgphD0Zhw0qGA-Nz1lkxdB45jYm50/s1600/maxresdefault+(1).jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
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The Annihilator, it turns out, has robbed Skylar of all of her super-powers - all 24 of them.</div>
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And no one has the slightest idea of how to restore those powers to Skylar.</div>
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Which means that, as far as the majority of the staff of Mighty Med are concerned, Skylar can't be a super-hero any more.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLDxyoEDUwiY-_drcWOjYAs3q4vfol0JK1VlvkXNAAdKbUGTY5HljIU4JjVdayYxIU-pT6NUptwqEvDcYwGH57R5GpbxlYvCbmThDY9kYLM9pc_RKgFqNX1hen5nAhvPZLpI7wog_9v84/s1600/disney-xd-mighty-med-episode-oct-7-2013-3+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLDxyoEDUwiY-_drcWOjYAs3q4vfol0JK1VlvkXNAAdKbUGTY5HljIU4JjVdayYxIU-pT6NUptwqEvDcYwGH57R5GpbxlYvCbmThDY9kYLM9pc_RKgFqNX1hen5nAhvPZLpI7wog_9v84/s1600/disney-xd-mighty-med-episode-oct-7-2013-3+(1).jpg" /></a></div>
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She can't make objects explode with her touch any more. She can't fly any more. She can't even lift heavy objects any more.</div>
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And - worse - she is stuck on Earth, and can't return to Caldera. </div>
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But that doesn't stop the odd Calederan from coming to see her.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4zPF182LprBijeRLPgPndpcAdb-aPf6LRcndwG0sIADNgYbD8_i-NFYYKzvpy-vt-6WJ9-z_NseAeDyGFHw9JhxtsdJpGVkFh-_W356-aNPfuaXEJlvJOt9y8B9MGUv3FHuR3F5FnMG4/s1600/-0t-PNG_1544.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4zPF182LprBijeRLPgPndpcAdb-aPf6LRcndwG0sIADNgYbD8_i-NFYYKzvpy-vt-6WJ9-z_NseAeDyGFHw9JhxtsdJpGVkFh-_W356-aNPfuaXEJlvJOt9y8B9MGUv3FHuR3F5FnMG4/s1600/-0t-PNG_1544.png" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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That odd Calderan would be Experion, a former best friend of Skylar Storm's ...who, of course, you know, turns out to totally betray her and has become a super-villain in Skylar's time away from Caldera. So there's that. So, yeah - the show makes it pretty clear that Skylar hasn't exactly had the best of years over the course of <i>Mighty Med</i>'s first season.</div>
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So ... let's review: her powers stolen, she's consigned to life at a hospital on an alien world, is betrayed by her former best friend, and finds herself totally isolated from her original home. So, you might imagine that Skylar would be pretty depressed about everything that's happened to her.</div>
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Except, here's the thing - she totally isn't.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha-vQsCizQuH_GYLpphHlBLtRDDwOhnuWAdeK3Eq_sZdMn4sRLrN2UZekIwRnMvgsjwn1-XKDeCET4EYXJ6a3cS_lNt8iLLjoYZOKgAWWyforgVHSMImTZvoxbUF9hHUKzDct1qtWBE1c/s1600/225728_608x456.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha-vQsCizQuH_GYLpphHlBLtRDDwOhnuWAdeK3Eq_sZdMn4sRLrN2UZekIwRnMvgsjwn1-XKDeCET4EYXJ6a3cS_lNt8iLLjoYZOKgAWWyforgVHSMImTZvoxbUF9hHUKzDct1qtWBE1c/s1600/225728_608x456.jpg" /></a></div>
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Because, instead of being angry or bitter or vindictive about her situation - Skylar ... makes the best of it.</div>
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Yep.</div>
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After all that, she makes the best of it.</div>
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She befriends Oliver (second from left in the image above), Kaz (third from left) and even - to a lesser degree - Alan Diaz (far right), at the hospital. </div>
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Oliver, for his part, has had a lifelong crush on the Skylar Storm of the comic books, and - finding out that she's real - vows to use his super-hero medical expertise to find a cure to her power-loss. But, given Oliver's geeky behavior most of the time, she isn't holding out much hope.</div>
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And Skylar also takes her time confined to Mighty Med to better get to know the super-heroes of Earth. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ7ceegODEgCxkCGUBy_rgamzGdSUCqaIqSwJhe_O6fkUSwdMVRDbUWASt1a7Fav8ji2mot9SWffZ0BQlxLbY8TokVaZdanJMdHN0tUVrb394ui-u7AQgM1oDvtQaUzICo73JIuH-0KBs/s1600/134986_0286_ful.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ7ceegODEgCxkCGUBy_rgamzGdSUCqaIqSwJhe_O6fkUSwdMVRDbUWASt1a7Fav8ji2mot9SWffZ0BQlxLbY8TokVaZdanJMdHN0tUVrb394ui-u7AQgM1oDvtQaUzICo73JIuH-0KBs/s1600/134986_0286_ful.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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Because what could simply be a dire sentence of powerless imprisonment is seen, in many ways, by Skylar as an opportunity to find out new things and tread new ground. </div>
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She finds a path toward appreciation of her situation, instead of resentment.</div>
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Because that's what Skylar is like.</div>
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Examples of this run throughout the series, and appear in every episode in which Skylar is present.</div>
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Another example would be that even though Skylar is incredibly intelligent and gifted, she decides to attend regular human - or "normo," as the super-heroes call it - school with Kaz and Oliver. </div>
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Bored with feeling sorry for herself, and eager to be even more involved in understanding life on Earth, she joins the regular everyday world, too, affecting the civilian identity of Connecticut Valentine.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUpFZGMz5T_5AIinnc4ctBLw_ZnRlsFxrNxNigVdLYKFaw4e-qxCqRvY9ACI20HcmLwlL87I96x5mwM_0-KpYUrPBAVRtZczxWfBbabke65sUAfKkiK50X-jZxLZPUIL27lhuZJiTGavk/s1600/0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUpFZGMz5T_5AIinnc4ctBLw_ZnRlsFxrNxNigVdLYKFaw4e-qxCqRvY9ACI20HcmLwlL87I96x5mwM_0-KpYUrPBAVRtZczxWfBbabke65sUAfKkiK50X-jZxLZPUIL27lhuZJiTGavk/s1600/0.jpg" /></a></div>
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And, rather than simply a super-hero trope that is being gently satirized by <i>Mighty Med</i>, this element of the character makes her incredibly heroic to me.</div>
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And it's one of the only times when I've seen the idea of a hero adopting a civilian identity heroic in and of itself.</div>
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Because, to me, Skylar's being Connie is a step she's taking to both heal <i>and </i>better herself.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEOh674UOWNLPLfJAk0QSIek7New-J72Hgqx6XYlwQN0f8jnIZUXXUQL6UUOHfju_EmVuJxczh-5a1yhVNYe-smtF06TLhlHtqBtXt8xywKCq85EltYM3UUFy7DX3_8B2XIc553oA2myA/s1600/Picture11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEOh674UOWNLPLfJAk0QSIek7New-J72Hgqx6XYlwQN0f8jnIZUXXUQL6UUOHfju_EmVuJxczh-5a1yhVNYe-smtF06TLhlHtqBtXt8xywKCq85EltYM3UUFy7DX3_8B2XIc553oA2myA/s1600/Picture11.jpg" /></a></div>
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Because Skylar clearly sees new experiences that might be unpleasant as opportunities for learning.</div>
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And that's so admirable to me.</div>
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Because I have such a hard time with that - though, to be fair, so too does Skylar from time to time.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIUAwjzD0HeTlm8N_Go7XsfYK5AVn42qI1yfFDUWt9N-4ZGA9PPoX3_iNHnidvn2AIwawphilIv2gRu4H_YjcKW_in_AvWlVQRwjtQHI1-F7p_u2sFmQp6ZdiY6JaycW_KKH1b_zW1rZ0/s1600/0+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIUAwjzD0HeTlm8N_Go7XsfYK5AVn42qI1yfFDUWt9N-4ZGA9PPoX3_iNHnidvn2AIwawphilIv2gRu4H_YjcKW_in_AvWlVQRwjtQHI1-F7p_u2sFmQp6ZdiY6JaycW_KKH1b_zW1rZ0/s1600/0+(1).jpg" /></a></div>
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You probably would, too, if you went to school with Kaz and Oliver.</div>
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Nevertheless, though - and even with her occasional rageful flare-ups - Skylar's ability to take bad situations and turn them around into opportunities to learn and improve herself inspires me beyond belief. </div>
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And I needed that kind of inspiration in my own life when I was in school, and I didn't have it. And I'm glad that kids watching Mighty Med have Skylar's decision to become Connecticut as an example of this to hold on to when times get tough - as they surely do in school for almost every kid - in their own lives in the real world.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHaF8iIeD7wk8xFQ3qYjMG8qlf_dD6zm3vr9EG3MYk6U8vvyrP8xEuTDarxF9Yf0h_5FqZ8TbZ1MtxkhdLWHV3tCerFTdai-scx37V9sicloIT6WzxkCl4wBYRhNIyIhYRFdlI1iHGAdQ/s1600/quaffle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHaF8iIeD7wk8xFQ3qYjMG8qlf_dD6zm3vr9EG3MYk6U8vvyrP8xEuTDarxF9Yf0h_5FqZ8TbZ1MtxkhdLWHV3tCerFTdai-scx37V9sicloIT6WzxkCl4wBYRhNIyIhYRFdlI1iHGAdQ/s1600/quaffle.jpg" /></a></div>
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Of course, it wouldn't work if there weren't skilled people writing, directing and crafting the show. And it wouldn't work even then, without a very talented actress to portray Skylar. And actress <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm5514372/?ref_=nv_sr_1">Paris MaryJo Berelc</a> is excellent in the way she imbues Skylar with so many admirable qualities throughout the course of the show, qualities that come through both in her handling of the dialogue she is given and in non-verbal elements that truly bring these admirable qualities of her character to life.</div>
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Because, without all these talents working together to create the character of Skylar Storm, she wouldn't seem so vividly heroic to me, wouldn't seem like the kind of super-hero who inspires me to be a better person in the real world.</div>
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And make no mistake - whether she's acting as Connecticut or as Skylar, she's still a super-hero in the world of <i>Mighty Med</i>.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmbaCk89nzjdKrbeuWdBYGv_p9Imga8y1GIxFXIuGYXuF2q5UzjKez9y39j7Pa6uIYpa0Qr2zqm3ZCo0Qs9x0pzpgr0KZZ6xLS3qNSB0Fk2wF138z0Vo01h71kd_x1TQjck8kN8cXXRDo/s1600/mightymed-disneyxd-021.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmbaCk89nzjdKrbeuWdBYGv_p9Imga8y1GIxFXIuGYXuF2q5UzjKez9y39j7Pa6uIYpa0Qr2zqm3ZCo0Qs9x0pzpgr0KZZ6xLS3qNSB0Fk2wF138z0Vo01h71kd_x1TQjck8kN8cXXRDo/s1600/mightymed-disneyxd-021.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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She really is. And I mean that in a literal sense in the story of the show, too.</div>
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Even though her 24 powers have been taken away from her, Skylar looks not to what she's lost but to the skills she has and <i>keeps fighting as a super-hero</i>.</div>
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And that's key to the essence of <i>why</i> she's such a hero to me, right there.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI5RoWKCO4YZSJzITu9LxpsTYX5eyVBtQOahPNf00_MIwO9sG_B2ErvTV3t7A4yjphkeIpkQV2XKXl6DVSlVF4AMCj3ATckRRXm9EqcmVi4xe_h757XorOkpgLSPYLntezSeG96t3yc3U/s1600/SkylarStuntDouble.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI5RoWKCO4YZSJzITu9LxpsTYX5eyVBtQOahPNf00_MIwO9sG_B2ErvTV3t7A4yjphkeIpkQV2XKXl6DVSlVF4AMCj3ATckRRXm9EqcmVi4xe_h757XorOkpgLSPYLntezSeG96t3yc3U/s1600/SkylarStuntDouble.png" /></a></div>
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Because it is, in its own way, "easy" to be a super-hero if you've got 24 super-powers that include a healing factor that brings you back to life even if you're beheaded. It's "easy" to stand up for what you believe in when you can control galactic forces and there's little-to-no threat to your physical (or emotional) well-being.</div>
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But to fight on after <i>losing</i> all those powers? To stand up for what you believe in, knowing that doing so could get you destroyed at any moment?</div>
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That's what being a super-hero is all about, to me. And that's what Skylar does, without 24 amazing super-powers to back up her bravery. She does it because it's right, and because it's needed, and because it's why she's here on Earth.</div>
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And, with Skylar inspiring me, I'm able to better realize that it's pretty much why we're all here on Earth.<br />
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We can all be heroes, no matter if we have powers or not. And it doesn't matter whether you're wearing a costume or the clothes you wear to school. Because Skylar shows me that we don't have to listen when people tell us what we can or can't do, and that we're not the product of our own limitations, or the limitations foisted upon us by other people. <br />
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Skylar shows us that we're all, at any given moment, really the result of all our current aspirations, which can only be limited by how much we have faith in ourselves to accomplish what we want to achieve in this world. And that's so inspiring to me, because it reminds me not to be angry about what I've lost in life ... but, instead, to be thankful for what I have.</div>
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Because I have good friends. And a good life. And a good place to live with good people in and near it. </div>
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I have my ability to write. And my ability to feel. And my ability to hope.</div>
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And having that hope is so important.</div>
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And it's not just having hope that things will get<i> better </i>if only things will somehow magically <i>change</i>.</div>
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It's having hope for what's right here in front of me, right now. And appreciating those people and those elements of my life I mentioned earlier.</div>
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And it's about being grateful for them, like Skylar is.</div>
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And it's about realizing I need to be grateful even for my <i>obligations</i>, because it means there are people in the world I care about, who I know care about me.</div>
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It's realizing that when I have to struggle and have to work to get what I want out of life, I need to remember that not everyone gets that opportunity ... that not everyone even gets a <i>chance</i> to be even be <i>close to having</i> that opportunity in the first place.</div>
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And that some people don't even have anyone to care for or who care about them, and to appreciate that in life and to let people know about how much you appreciate the bonds you feel with them.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq6PQXWIdC5Uk23C55A1H-gcB_mzJOM6S1oTaLVXOBdh5d022KhrAm7CD71cBgkacy8sboYj1zF9nsipnQziEh4-P0uDjSJe3Pb0oEJcJHcU47eMGBbb6LWt8KP7_wRYouekprN4J4hm0/s1600/SkoliverKiss.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq6PQXWIdC5Uk23C55A1H-gcB_mzJOM6S1oTaLVXOBdh5d022KhrAm7CD71cBgkacy8sboYj1zF9nsipnQziEh4-P0uDjSJe3Pb0oEJcJHcU47eMGBbb6LWt8KP7_wRYouekprN4J4hm0/s1600/SkoliverKiss.gif" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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And that working for other people ... and saving people ... and even saving the people who save people ... isn't a burden.</div>
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It's a gift. And it's a gift we all have, in our own capacity to be heroes, in whatever we do and however we strive and wherever we struggle. And it's a gift that simply <i>must</i> be used. Because we need to be out there saving each other whenever we can and however we can. <br />
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And that means that sometimes the strong and courageous girl can rescue the boy, instead of it always having to be the other way around like American society seems to so-often insist, and this is another element that inspires me about Skylar's character.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtuTgXOIFdZuPunPKiLDgBA9ZxrV6aJeGsDUQ1LPgkQPMy-tJEYg2rPBDNTAwWJA4arg2BnBzZbYfJHKdBRW_toGkJiRV8-Y_so4vsobMsTD7BNXNBVPv6CbhiSmmrKusYVCAyuoOxyoc/s1600/paris-berelc-mighty-med.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtuTgXOIFdZuPunPKiLDgBA9ZxrV6aJeGsDUQ1LPgkQPMy-tJEYg2rPBDNTAwWJA4arg2BnBzZbYfJHKdBRW_toGkJiRV8-Y_so4vsobMsTD7BNXNBVPv6CbhiSmmrKusYVCAyuoOxyoc/s1600/paris-berelc-mighty-med.gif" height="179" width="320" /></a></div>
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Because Skylar is brave like a hero should be brave, powers or no. She's brave like a hero should be brave, and isn't reduced to being a damsel in distress even though her super-powers were taken from her. Because she lives up to her true potential, which has nothing to do with her super-powers and everything to do with her belief in herself and her convictions about right and wrong.<br />
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Because doing anything less than that means not living up to ourselves,<i> let alone </i>living up to the amazing and incredible super-heroes we look up to as we try to make ourselves better. And realizing that we are all amazing and incredible in our own unique ways as we strive to live up to our own potential in the real world. And we shouldn't let anyone tell us what that can or can't be.</div>
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Because living up to our potential and our noblest aspirations in the real world? Well, those are pretty much some of the most heroic things a person can do. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUWjyaC6reHelVw4O-SteiKFmT_dNbpDB0dZo67WBjBsjQu1BPgTUiig7-dIEdzUTPhvXTvGx3EUSN8t3iN43YmT4j6kW_n8jmrcbH_Xw5Hp3UjRA-pj2OjUSqaL9_f6j47d7PpXu-1Yk/s1600/thoreau.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUWjyaC6reHelVw4O-SteiKFmT_dNbpDB0dZo67WBjBsjQu1BPgTUiig7-dIEdzUTPhvXTvGx3EUSN8t3iN43YmT4j6kW_n8jmrcbH_Xw5Hp3UjRA-pj2OjUSqaL9_f6j47d7PpXu-1Yk/s1600/thoreau.jpg" /></a></div>
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Dee Emm Elmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14053652749413575579noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1555007489284044452.post-83065117360937381722014-09-22T18:34:00.003-07:002014-09-22T18:37:48.027-07:00"I am unique in this universe." (Cheetara)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwVDX7K49vNG6A3Gd62zVaIiLg-K_RF3st2reXtRqpUczzEIbHmvAW7YpYke1kRoDlVCpJp5dw6OaycCcK3MnB3ASCiLaCUEO1pGnccllSZ0hNbdCO5ZS6WcUUyD7zCuP8X8qw3Ex0ypI/s1600/cheetara_by_hectorbetancur-d6uwzfs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwVDX7K49vNG6A3Gd62zVaIiLg-K_RF3st2reXtRqpUczzEIbHmvAW7YpYke1kRoDlVCpJp5dw6OaycCcK3MnB3ASCiLaCUEO1pGnccllSZ0hNbdCO5ZS6WcUUyD7zCuP8X8qw3Ex0ypI/s1600/cheetara_by_hectorbetancur-d6uwzfs.jpg" height="640" width="510" /></a></div>
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I'm autistic.</div>
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And you know another word that's often used to describe autistic people?</div>
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"Slow."</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWmfSmMmEY2B19LQRseCiFIR5hOao-6mqPU08ylPvUc4GAcsmhrFae3LFx6RdY_zss1fG8uZxe-c9MZGCikJ1Cym0a6diKt__jgOd2nCEnmm1pfKyYs8Pk1ZuCWwHCSVcsavt560aQ6QA/s1600/barf.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWmfSmMmEY2B19LQRseCiFIR5hOao-6mqPU08ylPvUc4GAcsmhrFae3LFx6RdY_zss1fG8uZxe-c9MZGCikJ1Cym0a6diKt__jgOd2nCEnmm1pfKyYs8Pk1ZuCWwHCSVcsavt560aQ6QA/s1600/barf.gif" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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And you know what?</div>
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I often hate it.</div>
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I often hate being thought of as "slow."</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE0ghAawPSdTy7HgOcbeea0l-wOBbkNvvI7P-v8NL33T43RtMWsWAeCXpnp6pccFcv78Ndrxb3J_05HNp_2MrwXVEiBtTj-yl8F-EsdCe5fXbz-J-_7qCAcdW7GfYj2jmL6-agOP1Xv30/s1600/dunce-cap-1-630x286.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE0ghAawPSdTy7HgOcbeea0l-wOBbkNvvI7P-v8NL33T43RtMWsWAeCXpnp6pccFcv78Ndrxb3J_05HNp_2MrwXVEiBtTj-yl8F-EsdCe5fXbz-J-_7qCAcdW7GfYj2jmL6-agOP1Xv30/s1600/dunce-cap-1-630x286.jpg" /></a></div>
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And I hate how I'm treated when people think I'm slow.</div>
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Because, even when people are trying to be "nice" to a "slow" person ...</div>
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... they're not often very "nice."</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs-uAENbWRXr3v4zoHWd5VUt_0unhHXabrxogUtziPfVQMHtLZmbbrvirhniqw9venFIBzwn76f9dOyUA0qyUSI778bI4XKtzj2JWDOHcWp9KqSx6D9k4ia-qTijdeWBPiPYxcMtkbN-w/s1600/medical-id-bracelets-for-kids.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs-uAENbWRXr3v4zoHWd5VUt_0unhHXabrxogUtziPfVQMHtLZmbbrvirhniqw9venFIBzwn76f9dOyUA0qyUSI778bI4XKtzj2JWDOHcWp9KqSx6D9k4ia-qTijdeWBPiPYxcMtkbN-w/s1600/medical-id-bracelets-for-kids.jpg" /></a></div>
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Because when someone is trying to be "nice" to a "slow" person, it can come across like they think they're dealing with a lost child ... or, worse, a lost puppy.</div>
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But I'm not a lost child. And I'm not a lost puppy.</div>
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I'm an adult human being.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZwZuTeWEtkh2DtY-4uSrZx3Mcs0RjT7U6yjqUT4NEaLAGCRXCRKC53qsz-kvW47MSARfGI1u1yua2nhUSDJVEfuJKHPAJdN33OkqFNL_CGtexAGEtQk18G3yiRNJbePfbjVF_Ds9mdoE/s1600/dietrich.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZwZuTeWEtkh2DtY-4uSrZx3Mcs0RjT7U6yjqUT4NEaLAGCRXCRKC53qsz-kvW47MSARfGI1u1yua2nhUSDJVEfuJKHPAJdN33OkqFNL_CGtexAGEtQk18G3yiRNJbePfbjVF_Ds9mdoE/s1600/dietrich.jpg" height="640" width="461" /></a></div>
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And here's another secret for you about autistic people.</div>
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We're not "slow."</div>
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Not by a longshot.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiri-EJWT7d5BYOdvoPf0aNPoF_tN77zjLYZZtSu5AlQCxfcPnf6peqc9SrI2D_-oOqDJBigPvRzCxgQwWPydjGsl-5-nDzGd6FhIV7msC5AoY09i4Ga9UEcdAfvduY9Mph3YAQDgwWW18/s1600/Speed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiri-EJWT7d5BYOdvoPf0aNPoF_tN77zjLYZZtSu5AlQCxfcPnf6peqc9SrI2D_-oOqDJBigPvRzCxgQwWPydjGsl-5-nDzGd6FhIV7msC5AoY09i4Ga9UEcdAfvduY9Mph3YAQDgwWW18/s1600/Speed.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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See, we're fast.</div>
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We're <i>really</i> fast.</div>
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Because our minds are almost always ON.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuP637sTVOo5b0XtHd4-onBQV16hfFqYBsUBinN1v60d9-DF3UOWzCsTBlgZ5MbshFYSo6wCHIyFVH_0lXvDqEQBOhm4k0sdaL6_nI3pQERyJGNzCBBSqi7hPFvg_EDd9lV4XaNNy2CEk/s1600/Brain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuP637sTVOo5b0XtHd4-onBQV16hfFqYBsUBinN1v60d9-DF3UOWzCsTBlgZ5MbshFYSo6wCHIyFVH_0lXvDqEQBOhm4k0sdaL6_nI3pQERyJGNzCBBSqi7hPFvg_EDd9lV4XaNNy2CEk/s1600/Brain.jpg" /></a></div>
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And I know it's hard for "neurotypical" people to understand.</div>
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But when your mind is going so fast ...</div>
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... it can get overwhelming.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5C9TrQ0b9vCTqfNgb4YxyEDtsCdBBfVs8tVyNocbLIIYYKRNrsXGZwOqVbr-vMh-igYpEmwGgf07_C3dV432i4CkCMsk-iBe8rFnRrpQc_Cghk8EgFRUjCpc8dYKrGhWJtqzlMcY-_ZU/s1600/overload.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5C9TrQ0b9vCTqfNgb4YxyEDtsCdBBfVs8tVyNocbLIIYYKRNrsXGZwOqVbr-vMh-igYpEmwGgf07_C3dV432i4CkCMsk-iBe8rFnRrpQc_Cghk8EgFRUjCpc8dYKrGhWJtqzlMcY-_ZU/s1600/overload.jpg" height="362" width="640" /></a></div>
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Because, in less time than it would take to look at the picture just above this sentence, my brain will easily sift through many times as many topics as in that image.</div>
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And then some.</div>
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And then <i>a lot,</i> actually. Because our brains are powered by an incredible amount of material: facts and figures and dates and sensory input and on and on and on. It's enough to write, you know, a book or something.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYhgoxr6Kt_pLGdFx9JEAYvt8V5ufC4i_Z5rh1Ep8E4YcVYNeLCKM54tuJjasM0goox8ZVQ8goELJi099BwBb7h7Udxt2CJpz8Or24hF4mabQjioL44NGIKyyf-kTqPcacqnqsWLGLdxA/s1600/wikipedia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYhgoxr6Kt_pLGdFx9JEAYvt8V5ufC4i_Z5rh1Ep8E4YcVYNeLCKM54tuJjasM0goox8ZVQ8goELJi099BwBb7h7Udxt2CJpz8Or24hF4mabQjioL44NGIKyyf-kTqPcacqnqsWLGLdxA/s1600/wikipedia.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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So I tell people to think of it this way: most autistic people have got plenty of power and speed going for us.</div>
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What we need, though, is to learn to have <i>control</i> to go along with that power speed.</div>
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And that's why I find so much inspiration in a character named Cheetara.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJRrrMS7Y16wdL0mB6gjk_nCmceKDbXd6Kno8tYUuXYeYzbgZm7cITuIN2Eyn7L9vz8D2gdsOc_2f13WIK77snAqxNjneiyJtsS19ui7Qqbzav4eh_hLrFI6SrfoNbEfPXWwNgWyq0DqM/s1600/471150.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJRrrMS7Y16wdL0mB6gjk_nCmceKDbXd6Kno8tYUuXYeYzbgZm7cITuIN2Eyn7L9vz8D2gdsOc_2f13WIK77snAqxNjneiyJtsS19ui7Qqbzav4eh_hLrFI6SrfoNbEfPXWwNgWyq0DqM/s1600/471150.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
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Because Cheetara is all about speed <i>and</i> control.</div>
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Because her power comes from the precision with which she uses that speed.</div>
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And when she combines the two, the results are spectacular.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvQ9JfiguBlzkK3TVY4OGU333dEPlor3hMW5GurL3TqHoslyADH9uK5ByFb1BIsM62Mk5a4eSg0hw6H_-LBEwnG9Iy3cIzmNakW9VkcYQ2pOftndjMDS9d1-14yGp8qOutH_PLlwkv9r8/s1600/giphy.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvQ9JfiguBlzkK3TVY4OGU333dEPlor3hMW5GurL3TqHoslyADH9uK5ByFb1BIsM62Mk5a4eSg0hw6H_-LBEwnG9Iy3cIzmNakW9VkcYQ2pOftndjMDS9d1-14yGp8qOutH_PLlwkv9r8/s1600/giphy.gif" /></a></div>
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Now, the character of Cheetara has been around for a while. The television show on which she first appeared, <i>Thundercats,</i> first aired in 1985. </div>
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That was an important year in my life for a lot of reasons, some of which I've discussed and some of which I'll get into as time goes by on this blog. </div>
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But you can safely assume that Cheetara arrived into my life at just the right time.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK0t3V2vCZTx9NCtozfg5No0xnHU59vgJ2A98Nz9TOsF5mhd3a9Xr_X_S7s9Q9_Wu2U5Px7JhNlHoSxf1BAUvarhz5gHU9TkDHJ8QEYznckpIxkG36FsREK1q9_XW0pQWn7sqYfw8x8Lg/s1600/2vlcsnap-2014-03-12-21h52m56s154.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK0t3V2vCZTx9NCtozfg5No0xnHU59vgJ2A98Nz9TOsF5mhd3a9Xr_X_S7s9Q9_Wu2U5Px7JhNlHoSxf1BAUvarhz5gHU9TkDHJ8QEYznckpIxkG36FsREK1q9_XW0pQWn7sqYfw8x8Lg/s1600/2vlcsnap-2014-03-12-21h52m56s154.jpg" height="496" width="640" /></a></div>
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Because I needed a Cheetara at that point in my life.</div>
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I needed an inspirational character who reveled in her speed instead of being ashamed of it.</div>
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Because I'd always thought of the speed of my mind as a curse before then, refusing to believe that the idea of such constant velocity could empower me the way it does Cheetara.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsf6oJu9rj4NyjwUv0QTK6o9rkHQ4EcToQdxFbhbmOUUjO1OiB7cxTaq4-q_MkJR4tVLZCLEWMiBvhnckUiPrn8nYyMj_oUxHH7V1imcUZ4iO1uu2ka2r0d2MJtccs4F8_oDaGl5Wf58U/s1600/cheetara_by_teamlattie-d4s6ll4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsf6oJu9rj4NyjwUv0QTK6o9rkHQ4EcToQdxFbhbmOUUjO1OiB7cxTaq4-q_MkJR4tVLZCLEWMiBvhnckUiPrn8nYyMj_oUxHH7V1imcUZ4iO1uu2ka2r0d2MJtccs4F8_oDaGl5Wf58U/s1600/cheetara_by_teamlattie-d4s6ll4.jpg" height="411" width="640" /></a></div>
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Now, by that point in my life I'd seen characters like The Flash by that point in my life, of course.</div>
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But I couldn't really <i>identify</i> with The Flash.</div>
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Because I felt no connection with The Flash like i did with Cheetara when I watched <i>Thundercats</i>.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs-Oi3OJEslRhYzprys_LL6L2FfmgDeP_XOb9kXsCELezgqzjck0QU8s4F4ASCedOAgFj3IxewFiGEN_pw2sgBKiHwOQV9EBGYAUnlmTLfehStAd14akVGTnU1FrfwpReR8bBfQTwIgGk/s1600/cheetara_colored_by_daverge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs-Oi3OJEslRhYzprys_LL6L2FfmgDeP_XOb9kXsCELezgqzjck0QU8s4F4ASCedOAgFj3IxewFiGEN_pw2sgBKiHwOQV9EBGYAUnlmTLfehStAd14akVGTnU1FrfwpReR8bBfQTwIgGk/s1600/cheetara_colored_by_daverge.jpg" height="640" width="501" /></a></div>
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But it wasn't just because Cheetara was a woman and The Flash was a man, though there was certainly a gendered element to it.</div>
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Rather, the key difference had to do with <i>how</i> Cheetara <i>used </i>her speed.</div>
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That's what got to me.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj72AFeqLbhY7yJiXy9AZDOE88t74Lwwk1iZiGlbJqI7XeJm6kFbfKypckDeg7FWDNzM6kZtOnD7td0HuhF2hWRbWFygmDkWgvlsgqGXU3BLKaLnPCfwXrEyLB4M98PZv-8_ZOYtQrw8AI/s1600/tumblr_n6cxk20Yxx1r3haomo1_250.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj72AFeqLbhY7yJiXy9AZDOE88t74Lwwk1iZiGlbJqI7XeJm6kFbfKypckDeg7FWDNzM6kZtOnD7td0HuhF2hWRbWFygmDkWgvlsgqGXU3BLKaLnPCfwXrEyLB4M98PZv-8_ZOYtQrw8AI/s1600/tumblr_n6cxk20Yxx1r3haomo1_250.gif" /></a></div>
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It was the way Cheeta used her speed as a means to exalt her every movement.</div>
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To turn everything she did into dance ...</div>
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... and into beauty.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy1H6EiLZFjnKygw15mPGp_h2U9uiLvinhAhLR8ZDrmfvXxKZBjtxFbSAFexVxn-SHNz5AG6wSmPbUOktJUawiYzrTxRD3QNhgR4k3hlaOC7DASLc482xfpvVlFdvZ61qupciwL50qW38/s1600/TztWZef.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy1H6EiLZFjnKygw15mPGp_h2U9uiLvinhAhLR8ZDrmfvXxKZBjtxFbSAFexVxn-SHNz5AG6wSmPbUOktJUawiYzrTxRD3QNhgR4k3hlaOC7DASLc482xfpvVlFdvZ61qupciwL50qW38/s1600/TztWZef.gif" /></a></div>
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I needed to believe, for my own life, that such beauty was possible for me.</div>
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And that I could be graceful and beautiful and strong if I could learn to harness the power and speed inside of myself.</div>
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And that, if I could only learn to do that, I could protect myself from the many threats in the world.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLRwduzpxch1TRi2lGg_xcCOc-F_fXrZmeWuLDIzc-qVkRJeKvhR6x4Z2akOAr2FsA7OomE1cmCsYXuVe230vxmV20uyYCiH4G4gd_Pud2pEn4DGJccPAKItLC7yabFthirI0-Dw9fS5U/s1600/cheetara.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLRwduzpxch1TRi2lGg_xcCOc-F_fXrZmeWuLDIzc-qVkRJeKvhR6x4Z2akOAr2FsA7OomE1cmCsYXuVe230vxmV20uyYCiH4G4gd_Pud2pEn4DGJccPAKItLC7yabFthirI0-Dw9fS5U/s1600/cheetara.gif" height="224" width="320" /></a></div>
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And there was more, even, to my love of Cheetara than all that.</div>
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Because I also loved Cheetara for what she was -</div>
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- because she was a combination of human and animal.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR608p74QQxAT06z46I0pORnViHVnNCSIuMS7DUqtyiwVj9vVOVK9OftFC2V4rI68pUuU0Svh605C0S6IiPqTJd7bC51CWRnp2ZtIntXUgnnMNtmdNUGSH3pbXD12CpaaNSvFfMBrUNd8/s1600/640x872_18989_Cheetara_Portrait_2d_fan_art_fantasy_creature_portrait_picture_image_digital_art.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR608p74QQxAT06z46I0pORnViHVnNCSIuMS7DUqtyiwVj9vVOVK9OftFC2V4rI68pUuU0Svh605C0S6IiPqTJd7bC51CWRnp2ZtIntXUgnnMNtmdNUGSH3pbXD12CpaaNSvFfMBrUNd8/s1600/640x872_18989_Cheetara_Portrait_2d_fan_art_fantasy_creature_portrait_picture_image_digital_art.jpg" height="320" width="234" /></a></div>
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And that resonated with me on a deep, fundamental level.</div>
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Because, for many autistics, feeling human doesn't come easy.</div>
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And we often feel like we have more in common with animals than with people.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpUWQNZMpwA-aVsAl1iPb8vD5C00HhCNWBMX8ABoxRve9tJBQjWDtMEC29aCVXMul7aBHPqsCMltPMqRw2GLKFH7dsQ89PJqmN3sj_QGmZjUMTV-P-M_e9MagnJrkv7zC1-JpH7LJaEBs/s1600/__Cheetara___by_TARGETE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpUWQNZMpwA-aVsAl1iPb8vD5C00HhCNWBMX8ABoxRve9tJBQjWDtMEC29aCVXMul7aBHPqsCMltPMqRw2GLKFH7dsQ89PJqmN3sj_QGmZjUMTV-P-M_e9MagnJrkv7zC1-JpH7LJaEBs/s1600/__Cheetara___by_TARGETE.jpg" height="640" width="437" /></a></div>
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Because humans, who seem to like to think of themselves as deep, or quick-witted, or clever ... well, they often do things that make absolutely no sense.</div>
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And it can be baffling. And it can hurt.</div>
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And understanding why humans do what they do can sometimes feel like a tremendous hurdle to overcome. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_5h0IHvlYnpCGnIkozYl6oquqEy7iu2z7RM6MSIVVRTYIpH4dG58TT8pJA12IR4CEz9bSp7OhLPz5xDBEkqfb7M0ewVyrkZCKHqrOKxcTToFgJPpuzv9NBjdLTfAs5ivJnFX_c3pQSbU/s1600/cheetara_by_vancamelot-d4q1ef3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_5h0IHvlYnpCGnIkozYl6oquqEy7iu2z7RM6MSIVVRTYIpH4dG58TT8pJA12IR4CEz9bSp7OhLPz5xDBEkqfb7M0ewVyrkZCKHqrOKxcTToFgJPpuzv9NBjdLTfAs5ivJnFX_c3pQSbU/s1600/cheetara_by_vancamelot-d4q1ef3.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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But when I would watch Cheetara - she seemed unaffected by hurdles. Or barriers. Or obstances of any kind.</div>
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She could go right through the crowds.</div>
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And I felt like I was right there, going right along with her, as if her physical movements weren't so much fast but on par with my own processes of thought.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg9bbGOMigwrVVHi-8be75sN-oshjcOIkM2BLooFXH_IITblJT5Vy4DmEyyzPKdWKzPCTPDssjDPIHww9pUt_YZs8MCcDdKNUgYUZjzzsrLEc6WYt92xVpIrr6iuouNgXvcf_7_F39-t0/s1600/Cheetara+(1).gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg9bbGOMigwrVVHi-8be75sN-oshjcOIkM2BLooFXH_IITblJT5Vy4DmEyyzPKdWKzPCTPDssjDPIHww9pUt_YZs8MCcDdKNUgYUZjzzsrLEc6WYt92xVpIrr6iuouNgXvcf_7_F39-t0/s1600/Cheetara+(1).gif" height="234" width="320" /></a></div>
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Cheetara became more than a character on a cartoon, to me. She became representative of something.</div>
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She became representative of what I could achieve in myself if I balanced all those elements I've just discussed together.</div>
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She became representative of the hope of what I could achieve if I disciplined myself with the efforts of a true warrior, though in a more metaphorical sense than Cheetara had accomplished as a character.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnX5hKYcPUhPrBODRr6mR8Xcr8RnnGx0Wr9AOoXnBC6xG6TGNwWLB7o-7wrpO_hUVsafGy79llKyLgxzVZrQ9lZB-VI4YHAGCFXo3ulM-5KSOIzuUnjQ4CPkzggfQ9GI6xmbpt346p-Xc/s1600/2011_cheetara_by_nazo_gema-d45ybq1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnX5hKYcPUhPrBODRr6mR8Xcr8RnnGx0Wr9AOoXnBC6xG6TGNwWLB7o-7wrpO_hUVsafGy79llKyLgxzVZrQ9lZB-VI4YHAGCFXo3ulM-5KSOIzuUnjQ4CPkzggfQ9GI6xmbpt346p-Xc/s1600/2011_cheetara_by_nazo_gema-d45ybq1.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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And it's as simple as that.</div>
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And as beautiful as that.</div>
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And, sadly, sometimes, as fragile and fleeting as that.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT650wSQrtoiHt-tzlignJkFgyMKOmKnFn9uCqqFekjMEh8rN8cux3jXYliQB67ZqbtuhoyUFggxEL_KFHal3EQTIoEYvmM0Y5rmp1n7ARsTTT3ke3d6Wm5Yr5cBZjbUNVbfhqkRDDeJc/s1600/Young_cheetara_day-astrid.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT650wSQrtoiHt-tzlignJkFgyMKOmKnFn9uCqqFekjMEh8rN8cux3jXYliQB67ZqbtuhoyUFggxEL_KFHal3EQTIoEYvmM0Y5rmp1n7ARsTTT3ke3d6Wm5Yr5cBZjbUNVbfhqkRDDeJc/s1600/Young_cheetara_day-astrid.jpg" /></a></div>
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Because I know I'm not really perfect.</div>
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And I know I can sometimes seem slow.</div>
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And when I think about those aspects of my life, I do sometimes give in to despair.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI5v94V3FZ-Jk4e73U72jBpmxLujHmvEaL4Mlizp1UNwksiHzDxOsTWFlarPBmeUiO6tqyVakqrTA3h1eOr35fKS6X-cKyxV2jV264Ly9R2QHuU5OUDbWmWObUZ19m6rphHhv6ggviuxY/s1600/Cheetara_mourns_jaga.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI5v94V3FZ-Jk4e73U72jBpmxLujHmvEaL4Mlizp1UNwksiHzDxOsTWFlarPBmeUiO6tqyVakqrTA3h1eOr35fKS6X-cKyxV2jV264Ly9R2QHuU5OUDbWmWObUZ19m6rphHhv6ggviuxY/s1600/Cheetara_mourns_jaga.jpg" /></a></div>
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But I try to keep running even when I stumble like that.</div>
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And I try to recover more quickly each time.</div>
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And I try to find that balance of power, speed and strength again so that I can once more face the world with courage and determination.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikOsO31TvaPs4c73HVNRtveneMW06At4i33JyJ_KHmpe3hUAEoTIn7yU50fpkFezjo_st7Mhid7q1ypiAFnilV61k2tbpjVAm1TZbHqZ7-XM6hS-4VSyepyR2yvWYf4hezw-8R2WKC4tU/s1600/Cheetara_thundercat_my_paintin_by_cliford417.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikOsO31TvaPs4c73HVNRtveneMW06At4i33JyJ_KHmpe3hUAEoTIn7yU50fpkFezjo_st7Mhid7q1ypiAFnilV61k2tbpjVAm1TZbHqZ7-XM6hS-4VSyepyR2yvWYf4hezw-8R2WKC4tU/s1600/Cheetara_thundercat_my_paintin_by_cliford417.jpg" height="517" width="640" /></a></div>
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And so, instead of trying to force my thoughts through narrow passages erected by people who understand only one human way of being ...</div>
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... I try to let my thoughts flow freely, within the walls of discipline that I have crafted ... rather than letting other people make those maps for me.</div>
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And then I really start to run.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgykTb5urQkje85ZJqGSCP8ApmnaBuGIDIsccT2eu1_gYjjxX_2f1rI5Ir_TJ6heZcz7nl5xyFBWGj7D-WRzQOhE6zXcBY05-hdfzQkRc5RJtk3PpiBgrqyQ9DVICQwoM02OVwbB_ju_Rw/s1600/Cheetara-Run-cardio-training.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgykTb5urQkje85ZJqGSCP8ApmnaBuGIDIsccT2eu1_gYjjxX_2f1rI5Ir_TJ6heZcz7nl5xyFBWGj7D-WRzQOhE6zXcBY05-hdfzQkRc5RJtk3PpiBgrqyQ9DVICQwoM02OVwbB_ju_Rw/s1600/Cheetara-Run-cardio-training.jpg" /></a></div>
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And when my mind is racing, and I'm unhindered by what it means to be slow or fast or human or animal or anything in-between ... that's when I get to be myself. Because that's when I realize I'm one of a kind, and not the product of anyone else's wishes or designs. And that I'm unique in all the universe. And that I'm most unique when I'm letting myself go, when I'm running in freedom and beauty and precision and power and strength and limitless joy.</div>
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That's how I feel, when I'm running in my own mind.</div>
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Do try to keep up.</div>
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Dee Emm Elmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14053652749413575579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1555007489284044452.post-75100011202328844582014-09-20T08:57:00.001-07:002014-09-20T08:57:45.822-07:00REVIEW: LEAVING MEGALOPOLIS<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT65l1UbENE2cQjHrjJ0qguyaC-jWy3tRo_mGkpddfvlhtiOB2ubDI0W398OzQRF5cFtVn2K6Xy-40p-xiLSrcEDKCOZUoFZH6JZYT5AmmE1GnPtvi1tP6p85RBBj_TOIgfjgJsRrMjgA/s1600/leavingreview.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT65l1UbENE2cQjHrjJ0qguyaC-jWy3tRo_mGkpddfvlhtiOB2ubDI0W398OzQRF5cFtVn2K6Xy-40p-xiLSrcEDKCOZUoFZH6JZYT5AmmE1GnPtvi1tP6p85RBBj_TOIgfjgJsRrMjgA/s1600/leavingreview.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Full disclosure: I think Gail Simone is an amazing writer.<br />
<br />
I've thought that for a long time.<br />
<br />
She's the writer who was chiefly responsible for getting me back into comics in my college years after a long absence brought on by my inability to handle how mainstream comics were treating women characters and women readers.<br />
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I met Gail Simone last night, for the first time.<br />
<br />
She was at the Portland landmark known as <a href="http://www.powells.com/">Powell's Books</a>.<br />
<br />
Powell's isn't quite as amazing at being a bookstore as Gail is amazing at being a writer, but Powell's is still pretty great. Do check it out.<br />
<br />
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<br />
And, while you're there, pick up a copy of the first volume of Gail's new comic book series <a href="http://www.powells.com/biblio/1-9781616555597-0">Leaving Megalopolis.</a> She wrote it, and I should also add here that J. Calafiore drew it, Jason Wright colored it and Dave Sharpe lettered it.<br />
<br />
And I mean it when I say this: seriously - pick it up. Support it. Pay for it twice so you can give it to a friend.<br />
<br />
Because it's really, truly great.<br />
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<br />
And it's great for a ton of reasons.<br />
<br />
But I don't want to really TELL you those reasons.<br />
<br />
Which is why the pictures I usually include in my blogs are so general this time.<br />
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<br />
Because you need to step into this world.<br />
<br />
And you need to do it now.<br />
<br />
Or, better yet, yesterday.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvyKPPxwkUAYh9aCFlHFZJAfwj54I4wP9hiUN0KGb-uyNIGCMcEw-HWYP5GZesHhgIImjEXKWTIUtHGXzrKlANsJGPRiMkMJQMCXTXZzz0ON2rzwN6WYDawgDiWBItMzFBe9PVQav-plI/s1600/6b406cc5349925e96bb24e40d0c8fc78_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvyKPPxwkUAYh9aCFlHFZJAfwj54I4wP9hiUN0KGb-uyNIGCMcEw-HWYP5GZesHhgIImjEXKWTIUtHGXzrKlANsJGPRiMkMJQMCXTXZzz0ON2rzwN6WYDawgDiWBItMzFBe9PVQav-plI/s1600/6b406cc5349925e96bb24e40d0c8fc78_large.jpg" height="181" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Because this is a world - and a story - that runs deeper than its surface elements.<br />
<br />
And it's about the real world, really. And real human beings.<br />
<br />
And how and why and when and where we need heroes.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt0jK94QItELexJEdUgPfGyriiEfoxQbePofgcHFsEF-8eLYc3Ayrz-AO9qqIQoTX5hJTZN5DNy28Rij_DHmUpOoKrc3gDgnNhDrKzr0EUOywXyP8BeCg1U0HvxD7_5SaVmJIj68_-6Dw/s1600/image-222516-full.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt0jK94QItELexJEdUgPfGyriiEfoxQbePofgcHFsEF-8eLYc3Ayrz-AO9qqIQoTX5hJTZN5DNy28Rij_DHmUpOoKrc3gDgnNhDrKzr0EUOywXyP8BeCg1U0HvxD7_5SaVmJIj68_-6Dw/s1600/image-222516-full.jpg" height="320" width="208" /></a></div>
<br />
And about what we've done - as people, not just as comic book fans, but across the spectrum of American media and culture - to the very idea of what makes a person a hero.<br />
<br />
And what that says about us.<br />
<br />
And what, maybe, we can do to fix it.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg49NGq1P7OM13EHlNQyAZu6kuHeCL-pVG84psVytSul-bo4ZgSlqYhw5k9vjXtilG9Uf4N2sLj4psEBEHXvG83mF_9BEzknItZRbGVvLetZXmPMY3bcaM8jSYF4-DBDdpcxHDCBDU3Ny8/s1600/image-206033-full.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg49NGq1P7OM13EHlNQyAZu6kuHeCL-pVG84psVytSul-bo4ZgSlqYhw5k9vjXtilG9Uf4N2sLj4psEBEHXvG83mF_9BEzknItZRbGVvLetZXmPMY3bcaM8jSYF4-DBDdpcxHDCBDU3Ny8/s1600/image-206033-full.jpg" height="400" width="257" /></a></div>
Because our heroes have - more often than not - become a mess.<br />
<br />
Because we've become a mess.<br />
<br />
And the core inspirational power of heroism is, to my thinking, symbiotic.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvyKPPxwkUAYh9aCFlHFZJAfwj54I4wP9hiUN0KGb-uyNIGCMcEw-HWYP5GZesHhgIImjEXKWTIUtHGXzrKlANsJGPRiMkMJQMCXTXZzz0ON2rzwN6WYDawgDiWBItMzFBe9PVQav-plI/s1600/6b406cc5349925e96bb24e40d0c8fc78_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvyKPPxwkUAYh9aCFlHFZJAfwj54I4wP9hiUN0KGb-uyNIGCMcEw-HWYP5GZesHhgIImjEXKWTIUtHGXzrKlANsJGPRiMkMJQMCXTXZzz0ON2rzwN6WYDawgDiWBItMzFBe9PVQav-plI/s1600/6b406cc5349925e96bb24e40d0c8fc78_large.jpg" height="181" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Because that's how inspiration works.<br />
<br />
It's infectious. It gets under the skin. It gets into the blood.<br />
<br />
But it can also carry with it other elements.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvyKPPxwkUAYh9aCFlHFZJAfwj54I4wP9hiUN0KGb-uyNIGCMcEw-HWYP5GZesHhgIImjEXKWTIUtHGXzrKlANsJGPRiMkMJQMCXTXZzz0ON2rzwN6WYDawgDiWBItMzFBe9PVQav-plI/s1600/6b406cc5349925e96bb24e40d0c8fc78_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvyKPPxwkUAYh9aCFlHFZJAfwj54I4wP9hiUN0KGb-uyNIGCMcEw-HWYP5GZesHhgIImjEXKWTIUtHGXzrKlANsJGPRiMkMJQMCXTXZzz0ON2rzwN6WYDawgDiWBItMzFBe9PVQav-plI/s1600/6b406cc5349925e96bb24e40d0c8fc78_large.jpg" height="181" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Because we can be inspired to stand for what is best in ourselves.<br />
<br />
And when we do that, our heroes reflect that. And when that happens, we feel stronger, and we act according to that strength.<br />
<br />
Which, in turn, further inspires others to stand for what is best in themselves.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvyKPPxwkUAYh9aCFlHFZJAfwj54I4wP9hiUN0KGb-uyNIGCMcEw-HWYP5GZesHhgIImjEXKWTIUtHGXzrKlANsJGPRiMkMJQMCXTXZzz0ON2rzwN6WYDawgDiWBItMzFBe9PVQav-plI/s1600/6b406cc5349925e96bb24e40d0c8fc78_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvyKPPxwkUAYh9aCFlHFZJAfwj54I4wP9hiUN0KGb-uyNIGCMcEw-HWYP5GZesHhgIImjEXKWTIUtHGXzrKlANsJGPRiMkMJQMCXTXZzz0ON2rzwN6WYDawgDiWBItMzFBe9PVQav-plI/s1600/6b406cc5349925e96bb24e40d0c8fc78_large.jpg" height="181" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
But not everyone wants to rise to that occasion.<br />
<br />
Because there are easier ways to feel strong without actually being strong; these ways are easier, and they're also much faster.<br />
<br />
And, today, so many people want everything to be much faster.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvyKPPxwkUAYh9aCFlHFZJAfwj54I4wP9hiUN0KGb-uyNIGCMcEw-HWYP5GZesHhgIImjEXKWTIUtHGXzrKlANsJGPRiMkMJQMCXTXZzz0ON2rzwN6WYDawgDiWBItMzFBe9PVQav-plI/s1600/6b406cc5349925e96bb24e40d0c8fc78_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvyKPPxwkUAYh9aCFlHFZJAfwj54I4wP9hiUN0KGb-uyNIGCMcEw-HWYP5GZesHhgIImjEXKWTIUtHGXzrKlANsJGPRiMkMJQMCXTXZzz0ON2rzwN6WYDawgDiWBItMzFBe9PVQav-plI/s1600/6b406cc5349925e96bb24e40d0c8fc78_large.jpg" height="181" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />And we're so anguished by the suffering we've become aware of in the world that it can - and has begun to - change the values of what we define as heroism.<br />
<br />
We value proactivity over patience. We value action - any action - over reason or strategy. <br />
<br />
And we so often come to value our heroes by the impact of their power.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvyKPPxwkUAYh9aCFlHFZJAfwj54I4wP9hiUN0KGb-uyNIGCMcEw-HWYP5GZesHhgIImjEXKWTIUtHGXzrKlANsJGPRiMkMJQMCXTXZzz0ON2rzwN6WYDawgDiWBItMzFBe9PVQav-plI/s1600/6b406cc5349925e96bb24e40d0c8fc78_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvyKPPxwkUAYh9aCFlHFZJAfwj54I4wP9hiUN0KGb-uyNIGCMcEw-HWYP5GZesHhgIImjEXKWTIUtHGXzrKlANsJGPRiMkMJQMCXTXZzz0ON2rzwN6WYDawgDiWBItMzFBe9PVQav-plI/s1600/6b406cc5349925e96bb24e40d0c8fc78_large.jpg" height="181" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
And that's what LEAVING MEGALOPOLIS is about, to me.<br />
<br />
Your feelings may be different.<br />
<br />
But that's what punched me repeatedly in the stomach as I read it.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvyKPPxwkUAYh9aCFlHFZJAfwj54I4wP9hiUN0KGb-uyNIGCMcEw-HWYP5GZesHhgIImjEXKWTIUtHGXzrKlANsJGPRiMkMJQMCXTXZzz0ON2rzwN6WYDawgDiWBItMzFBe9PVQav-plI/s1600/6b406cc5349925e96bb24e40d0c8fc78_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvyKPPxwkUAYh9aCFlHFZJAfwj54I4wP9hiUN0KGb-uyNIGCMcEw-HWYP5GZesHhgIImjEXKWTIUtHGXzrKlANsJGPRiMkMJQMCXTXZzz0ON2rzwN6WYDawgDiWBItMzFBe9PVQav-plI/s1600/6b406cc5349925e96bb24e40d0c8fc78_large.jpg" height="181" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
But indictment, by itself, is simple.<br />
<br />
"Dark, gritty, realistic" comic books indict the audience with graphic displays of sex and violence all the time, without saying a thing that's true about the real human condition of everyday life. "You should feel guilty for enjoying this comic," they say. "You should be ashamed."<br />
<br />
But that's not really saying anything. Pointing at a problem isn't the same as solving a problem. And simply shouting and waving your arms isn't particularly heroic in most circumstances.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvyKPPxwkUAYh9aCFlHFZJAfwj54I4wP9hiUN0KGb-uyNIGCMcEw-HWYP5GZesHhgIImjEXKWTIUtHGXzrKlANsJGPRiMkMJQMCXTXZzz0ON2rzwN6WYDawgDiWBItMzFBe9PVQav-plI/s1600/6b406cc5349925e96bb24e40d0c8fc78_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvyKPPxwkUAYh9aCFlHFZJAfwj54I4wP9hiUN0KGb-uyNIGCMcEw-HWYP5GZesHhgIImjEXKWTIUtHGXzrKlANsJGPRiMkMJQMCXTXZzz0ON2rzwN6WYDawgDiWBItMzFBe9PVQav-plI/s1600/6b406cc5349925e96bb24e40d0c8fc78_large.jpg" height="181" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
And that's where LEAVING MEGALOPOLIS also shines, because the writing speaks of what must be done at the same time as it illustrates the problems we have as a society with how we define heroes.<br />
<br />
It puts it in bold relief, in fact, makes it clear and easy-to-see. It's simple in its brilliance and brilliant in its simplicity.<br />
<br />
And it's the kind of story that feels like it has always been - like it has been waiting for someone to uncover it and tell it. And it feels that way because it is about human truths.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvyKPPxwkUAYh9aCFlHFZJAfwj54I4wP9hiUN0KGb-uyNIGCMcEw-HWYP5GZesHhgIImjEXKWTIUtHGXzrKlANsJGPRiMkMJQMCXTXZzz0ON2rzwN6WYDawgDiWBItMzFBe9PVQav-plI/s1600/6b406cc5349925e96bb24e40d0c8fc78_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvyKPPxwkUAYh9aCFlHFZJAfwj54I4wP9hiUN0KGb-uyNIGCMcEw-HWYP5GZesHhgIImjEXKWTIUtHGXzrKlANsJGPRiMkMJQMCXTXZzz0ON2rzwN6WYDawgDiWBItMzFBe9PVQav-plI/s1600/6b406cc5349925e96bb24e40d0c8fc78_large.jpg" height="181" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
And the gorgeous art by J. Calafiore is a huge part of that, too.<br />
<br />
Even though I'm not showing much of it here.<br />
<br />
Because you need to open those pages and see it for yourself.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvyKPPxwkUAYh9aCFlHFZJAfwj54I4wP9hiUN0KGb-uyNIGCMcEw-HWYP5GZesHhgIImjEXKWTIUtHGXzrKlANsJGPRiMkMJQMCXTXZzz0ON2rzwN6WYDawgDiWBItMzFBe9PVQav-plI/s1600/6b406cc5349925e96bb24e40d0c8fc78_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvyKPPxwkUAYh9aCFlHFZJAfwj54I4wP9hiUN0KGb-uyNIGCMcEw-HWYP5GZesHhgIImjEXKWTIUtHGXzrKlANsJGPRiMkMJQMCXTXZzz0ON2rzwN6WYDawgDiWBItMzFBe9PVQav-plI/s1600/6b406cc5349925e96bb24e40d0c8fc78_large.jpg" height="181" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Because you need to see art that depicts real, human faces. <br />
<br />
You need to see art that shows human figures expressing actual emotions and existing within a world of weight and consequence, where the things that happen from panel to panel actually matter to the narrative - the kinds of images that tell the exact-right amount of the story to go along with the dialogue.<br />
<br />
And you need to see emotion illustrated into the eyes of humanized characters that tell us how they feel.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvyKPPxwkUAYh9aCFlHFZJAfwj54I4wP9hiUN0KGb-uyNIGCMcEw-HWYP5GZesHhgIImjEXKWTIUtHGXzrKlANsJGPRiMkMJQMCXTXZzz0ON2rzwN6WYDawgDiWBItMzFBe9PVQav-plI/s1600/6b406cc5349925e96bb24e40d0c8fc78_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvyKPPxwkUAYh9aCFlHFZJAfwj54I4wP9hiUN0KGb-uyNIGCMcEw-HWYP5GZesHhgIImjEXKWTIUtHGXzrKlANsJGPRiMkMJQMCXTXZzz0ON2rzwN6WYDawgDiWBItMzFBe9PVQav-plI/s1600/6b406cc5349925e96bb24e40d0c8fc78_large.jpg" height="181" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
And, oh, do you remember what I said about how inspiration can be infectious?<br />
<br />
Well, the issues discussed in this story will infect your head, too, I'll bet. And you'll quite possibly find yourself looking at your real world in a slightly different way.<br />
<br />
And, maybe, your heroes, too.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvyKPPxwkUAYh9aCFlHFZJAfwj54I4wP9hiUN0KGb-uyNIGCMcEw-HWYP5GZesHhgIImjEXKWTIUtHGXzrKlANsJGPRiMkMJQMCXTXZzz0ON2rzwN6WYDawgDiWBItMzFBe9PVQav-plI/s1600/6b406cc5349925e96bb24e40d0c8fc78_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvyKPPxwkUAYh9aCFlHFZJAfwj54I4wP9hiUN0KGb-uyNIGCMcEw-HWYP5GZesHhgIImjEXKWTIUtHGXzrKlANsJGPRiMkMJQMCXTXZzz0ON2rzwN6WYDawgDiWBItMzFBe9PVQav-plI/s1600/6b406cc5349925e96bb24e40d0c8fc78_large.jpg" height="181" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Because our heroes reflect who and what we most want to be ...<br />
<br />
... and maybe you should think about that. And who your heroes are, and what your heroes are.<br />
<br />
Because heroes matter.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvyKPPxwkUAYh9aCFlHFZJAfwj54I4wP9hiUN0KGb-uyNIGCMcEw-HWYP5GZesHhgIImjEXKWTIUtHGXzrKlANsJGPRiMkMJQMCXTXZzz0ON2rzwN6WYDawgDiWBItMzFBe9PVQav-plI/s1600/6b406cc5349925e96bb24e40d0c8fc78_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvyKPPxwkUAYh9aCFlHFZJAfwj54I4wP9hiUN0KGb-uyNIGCMcEw-HWYP5GZesHhgIImjEXKWTIUtHGXzrKlANsJGPRiMkMJQMCXTXZzz0ON2rzwN6WYDawgDiWBItMzFBe9PVQav-plI/s1600/6b406cc5349925e96bb24e40d0c8fc78_large.jpg" height="181" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
And we need them.<br />
<br />
And we need them to be the best of us.<br />
<br />
And, right now, they're not, in America.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvyKPPxwkUAYh9aCFlHFZJAfwj54I4wP9hiUN0KGb-uyNIGCMcEw-HWYP5GZesHhgIImjEXKWTIUtHGXzrKlANsJGPRiMkMJQMCXTXZzz0ON2rzwN6WYDawgDiWBItMzFBe9PVQav-plI/s1600/6b406cc5349925e96bb24e40d0c8fc78_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvyKPPxwkUAYh9aCFlHFZJAfwj54I4wP9hiUN0KGb-uyNIGCMcEw-HWYP5GZesHhgIImjEXKWTIUtHGXzrKlANsJGPRiMkMJQMCXTXZzz0ON2rzwN6WYDawgDiWBItMzFBe9PVQav-plI/s1600/6b406cc5349925e96bb24e40d0c8fc78_large.jpg" height="181" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
So when you look at your heroes, please ask yourself some questions.<br />
<br />
Is that who you want to be?<br />
<br />
Is that what you want to be?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvyKPPxwkUAYh9aCFlHFZJAfwj54I4wP9hiUN0KGb-uyNIGCMcEw-HWYP5GZesHhgIImjEXKWTIUtHGXzrKlANsJGPRiMkMJQMCXTXZzz0ON2rzwN6WYDawgDiWBItMzFBe9PVQav-plI/s1600/6b406cc5349925e96bb24e40d0c8fc78_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvyKPPxwkUAYh9aCFlHFZJAfwj54I4wP9hiUN0KGb-uyNIGCMcEw-HWYP5GZesHhgIImjEXKWTIUtHGXzrKlANsJGPRiMkMJQMCXTXZzz0ON2rzwN6WYDawgDiWBItMzFBe9PVQav-plI/s1600/6b406cc5349925e96bb24e40d0c8fc78_large.jpg" height="181" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Because that's, in my opinion, what LEAVING MEGALOPOLIS asks.<br />
<br />
And it asks it beautifully, and painfully, and tragically.<br />
<br />
And heroically.<br />
<br />
<br />Dee Emm Elmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14053652749413575579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1555007489284044452.post-86243608810952570222014-09-03T20:08:00.003-07:002014-09-06T08:48:44.103-07:00"Maybe this is what I've been waiting for. Maybe I'm finally part of something... bigger." (Kamala Khan aka Ms. Marvel)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<h1 class="title entry-title" itemprop="name" style="background-color: #fafafa; display: table-cell; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 40px 0px 0px; position: relative; text-align: center; vertical-align: middle; width: 670px;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQef_A8CXsUp5bz4q2bUVUOupdpk7MUUgSAsXWVB6o7BdGDvzSqsTXsDcgytNcrUukAPer_Rk3lw3YkKPiQr7HY-cWXL2A824Ll3ZgJ-DG1eQ7i69AHmKv-jkURKax8N_0uv2nsf07a9Q/s1600/msmarvelbox.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQef_A8CXsUp5bz4q2bUVUOupdpk7MUUgSAsXWVB6o7BdGDvzSqsTXsDcgytNcrUukAPer_Rk3lw3YkKPiQr7HY-cWXL2A824Ll3ZgJ-DG1eQ7i69AHmKv-jkURKax8N_0uv2nsf07a9Q/s1600/msmarvelbox.jpg" /></a></div>
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<div style="font-size: medium; font-weight: normal;">
Standing big and standing tall - </div>
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<br /></div>
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it's what's expected of you, right?</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: medium; font-weight: normal;">
Especially if you want to be like your heroes.</div>
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</h1>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMUGCbdDe3ux2NKtJH07gyI__lg-c_8dZcc0bRHo1qVyyKc5MTHfN1zqWq_EAlfFOnLqMkJ6fEL3tIio5Uub8f_4HQ8XBjsAL84pvNTcozi6FLheNGhIQ59uysPl1MVx8UdQJ03CfN7ZA/s1600/Ms._Marvel_Vol_3_2_Molina_Variant_Textless.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMUGCbdDe3ux2NKtJH07gyI__lg-c_8dZcc0bRHo1qVyyKc5MTHfN1zqWq_EAlfFOnLqMkJ6fEL3tIio5Uub8f_4HQ8XBjsAL84pvNTcozi6FLheNGhIQ59uysPl1MVx8UdQJ03CfN7ZA/s1600/Ms._Marvel_Vol_3_2_Molina_Variant_Textless.jpg" height="640" width="421" /></a></div>
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Standing big and standing tall - it's what the heroes in the comics do, right?</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And I want to be a hero - to myself, and to other people.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But real-life doesn't always work out that way for me.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOMbpQCgmx7-2U-vSZTeQonu9eK-_txDMrUfos0rKKUqTZiS5bCpey3QSY6WRJkG86CX5K7YkYo9WXF_NFx9vRzrtQYKbn8S5P-2HvkuUbYOpABxUqq-H1UPt7WoGMTkvNme2-afJQYKk/s1600/3709672-kamala+khan+(ms.%2Bmarvel)%2B08.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOMbpQCgmx7-2U-vSZTeQonu9eK-_txDMrUfos0rKKUqTZiS5bCpey3QSY6WRJkG86CX5K7YkYo9WXF_NFx9vRzrtQYKbn8S5P-2HvkuUbYOpABxUqq-H1UPt7WoGMTkvNme2-afJQYKk/s1600/3709672-kamala+khan+(ms.%2Bmarvel)%2B08.jpg" height="331" width="640" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
Because sometimes, I end up shrinking away from real-life, let alone from being a hero in it.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And, as a result, I end up feeling small. And when that happens, I feel vulnerable.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And then I feel like the littlest things can send me into a panic.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh7hqYi9Zen3kw2Sc1lhJ81pSSfmZHGcmEoUKmKUcUHNOA4gii-8QRlJuI9HJx6sdhze4Psi74aGFCEnudRUvbRpyFZCi-qDJPuWShxTmMPi1nWU8JCuU557Tsx8y-RCmVesvDIYzOXtw/s1600/yeek.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh7hqYi9Zen3kw2Sc1lhJ81pSSfmZHGcmEoUKmKUcUHNOA4gii-8QRlJuI9HJx6sdhze4Psi74aGFCEnudRUvbRpyFZCi-qDJPuWShxTmMPi1nWU8JCuU557Tsx8y-RCmVesvDIYzOXtw/s1600/yeek.jpg" height="488" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And I've been thinking about this a lot lately - about this constant back-and-forth in terms of how I see myself ... and how and why it's always changing.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And that, in turn, has led me to think of a new hero who has come into my life recently and profoundly inspired me to see myself in a better light.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Which is why I'm writing here about <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ms._Marvel_(Kamala_Khan)">Kamala Khan</a>.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4g8mkFDoTKMu02zGFFP3YPeaSIXQiOhir4ZSJhf3vfdRyswdSnPIWbK4wanY8dt5wHaYtrZdAJrfxSCJmNfTZIZg48miv9PUW3lVeG-g66UATSJa63WbPHFlSFl_ciOG6Iqqxjl30bFo/s1600/tumblr_mvz41hCnFF1rcp7bmo1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4g8mkFDoTKMu02zGFFP3YPeaSIXQiOhir4ZSJhf3vfdRyswdSnPIWbK4wanY8dt5wHaYtrZdAJrfxSCJmNfTZIZg48miv9PUW3lVeG-g66UATSJa63WbPHFlSFl_ciOG6Iqqxjl30bFo/s1600/tumblr_mvz41hCnFF1rcp7bmo1_500.jpg" height="640" width="421" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
To say that Kamala Khan is currently my favorite character in comics isn't an understatement.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://marvel.com/comics/issue/49089/ms_marvel_2014_1"><i>Ms. Marvel</i></a>, the comic that chronicles Kamala's adventures, is pretty much the only comic that I will buy each and every month regardless of anything. I make sure I have enough in my bank account to afford that comic whenever it comes out and I get it almost immediately instead of waiting for the issues to come down in price like I usually do.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
That's not meant to be a slam against any of the other comics or characters I admire. It's just that I'm that much a fan of Kamala's.</div>
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<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The writing is beautiful. The art is gorgeous. The characters are fascinating. The entire creative team is genius in their subtle handling of big, bold ideas and images.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But this isn't a review of <i>Ms. Marvel. </i>Here, I'm writing about why Kamala is, suddenly, one of my biggest heroes.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And the reason is simple: <i>she helps me feel better about the world, and my place in it.</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmqN-3zYBKRApU3NFhe9dlT5tf6lxd7DPMt9EujUq8_bGwdwHSPSY4OhlOnaP94D6KEnJfFc8iYESyzMyQ-cIJlQiEEHoGoJBGAZUAuNhyCo-RZTH3ACUfQk0MnLp0LlPb_Ja6iOYXLqs/s1600/3709676-kamala+khan+(ms.%2Bmarvel)%2B12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmqN-3zYBKRApU3NFhe9dlT5tf6lxd7DPMt9EujUq8_bGwdwHSPSY4OhlOnaP94D6KEnJfFc8iYESyzMyQ-cIJlQiEEHoGoJBGAZUAuNhyCo-RZTH3ACUfQk0MnLp0LlPb_Ja6iOYXLqs/s1600/3709676-kamala+khan+(ms.%2Bmarvel)%2B12.jpg" height="432" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And she really does make me feel better about these things ...</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
... because I identify with Kamala ... even though our lives are nothing alike.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I <i>really</i> identify with her.</div>
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFGg2tvVNeGoND0KNbWBuO576vAIwp9l0hZAQdifhqyjB9u_cVEA1wCPDD2zt1-w_zuFlSoZbfVFmQdG44swqwZohuYBt52Sshd89sBCi69eOhNnmXDzMmdJQQdkXqPUxWSgFEps-k1kc/s1600/MSMARV2014003-DC21-48d6a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFGg2tvVNeGoND0KNbWBuO576vAIwp9l0hZAQdifhqyjB9u_cVEA1wCPDD2zt1-w_zuFlSoZbfVFmQdG44swqwZohuYBt52Sshd89sBCi69eOhNnmXDzMmdJQQdkXqPUxWSgFEps-k1kc/s1600/MSMARV2014003-DC21-48d6a.jpg" height="640" width="416" /></a></div>
<br />
And, I mean, that identification is manifold.<br />
<br />
Because I identify with Kamala's feelings that she doesn't fit in, which isn't exactly unique to Kamala in comics. It's a truism of many young super-heroes.<br />
<br />
But Kamala's handling of these feelings runs<i> so much deeper</i>.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgleEHRMUvyUINhyphenhyphenS2T8ht3zXUw8yl4flx5uXHD-YKtfqMUnCzKhyphenhyphen14deKCxfPJ38HUyhvgQvzPByUdeWf8EbrhOwCFCUMLTBxJLZKcrqTp6XByqC1NdghRHIDl6jJWSpQ6AI04M4tkf0E/s1600/Ms-Marvel-1-Be-You.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgleEHRMUvyUINhyphenhyphenS2T8ht3zXUw8yl4flx5uXHD-YKtfqMUnCzKhyphenhyphen14deKCxfPJ38HUyhvgQvzPByUdeWf8EbrhOwCFCUMLTBxJLZKcrqTp6XByqC1NdghRHIDl6jJWSpQ6AI04M4tkf0E/s1600/Ms-Marvel-1-Be-You.jpg" /></a><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Because I think every girl who's grown up in America knows what it's like to feel ill-at-ease when we don't match the standards that the dominant American culture sets out in front of us about what we're expected to be.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And I think we all know what it's like to dream - achingly, painfully - of being able to somehow, perhaps magically, live up to those expectations.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And to want to look at images of what we're expected to be, sometimes more than our own reflection.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFRS9sMF2JLNd8FeUP3eMZKUFYRVfvNEgJkHl50WkL5FL80VJc-2oUtvwRSjOzmRdOLZTHMbgpbUGI-YYbn5KB6X4sEkoi3g6oXUvw-XL3USGH8oNBmw4Q98tx8W9ocZVVsz41gAryyo0/s1600/tumblr_mvum8q5DmB1qerfito1_500.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFRS9sMF2JLNd8FeUP3eMZKUFYRVfvNEgJkHl50WkL5FL80VJc-2oUtvwRSjOzmRdOLZTHMbgpbUGI-YYbn5KB6X4sEkoi3g6oXUvw-XL3USGH8oNBmw4Q98tx8W9ocZVVsz41gAryyo0/s1600/tumblr_mvum8q5DmB1qerfito1_500.png" /></a></div>
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It can hurt to know you're not the "same" as everyone else, even if no one is.</div>
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And it can make you want to scream.</div>
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And it can make you spend so much time and energy just wishing ... and wishing ... and wishing ... to no avail.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinSyeDKk58NX9yqx-TlcrXjLok9PYF0LrwZUlYzVRUmSOqwjdC510O_hjeV3uHpkXWpchT2ELahm0592XYVzQ4zT1hjuGSTsO6fWSaRnw308uhFft9Gkb3YrDlIHAumZ4NAbC4WvLcexs/s1600/transform.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinSyeDKk58NX9yqx-TlcrXjLok9PYF0LrwZUlYzVRUmSOqwjdC510O_hjeV3uHpkXWpchT2ELahm0592XYVzQ4zT1hjuGSTsO6fWSaRnw308uhFft9Gkb3YrDlIHAumZ4NAbC4WvLcexs/s1600/transform.jpg" /></a></div>
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And that extends to <i>being</i> different from those Americanized standards, too.</div>
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To the point where you don't appreciate what makes them special.</div>
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And all you feel is alone, isolated and stigmatized.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2elZZ_w13XOtQsDPCF5KjtI-16Uh3ywZgbq4yHVVuWl9qAs67Z7vf_VndsgmFKrDFiQr5RcZjUVMhFw-qawADBn39qV0KhDk-cnOFVJS94FQgA2PCD0TAcbPVgu0aBfjVY8aYExwfCJo/s1600/Kamala-Khan-in-Ms.-Marvel-1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2elZZ_w13XOtQsDPCF5KjtI-16Uh3ywZgbq4yHVVuWl9qAs67Z7vf_VndsgmFKrDFiQr5RcZjUVMhFw-qawADBn39qV0KhDk-cnOFVJS94FQgA2PCD0TAcbPVgu0aBfjVY8aYExwfCJo/s1600/Kamala-Khan-in-Ms.-Marvel-1.png" height="234" width="640" /></a></div>
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Now, I do think I should point out here that my cultural upbringing is very different from Kamala's.</div>
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I don't share her background.</div>
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But I do think I understand a lot of her feelings.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXaQC6tFoZqZ4UJwiypgkMb9o2XADlMPnvb-rA7BEyIdD_SAaaXoptHoHE19wHd_Gvh3J5Vor1h_JvfSu2_V2pnwKHhF311DxRMzcOrzm7-cy06OIutYK9KSf2rlRgb9vaJYgUL5cb8u4/s1600/partpage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXaQC6tFoZqZ4UJwiypgkMb9o2XADlMPnvb-rA7BEyIdD_SAaaXoptHoHE19wHd_Gvh3J5Vor1h_JvfSu2_V2pnwKHhF311DxRMzcOrzm7-cy06OIutYK9KSf2rlRgb9vaJYgUL5cb8u4/s1600/partpage.jpg" height="319" width="320" /></a></div>
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And I understand those memories of simply <i>begging</i> to be taken seriously. And being told "no" ... no matter how well thought-out my reasoning was.</div>
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And how my parents knew what they wanted for me ...<br />
<br />
... and how my parents always seemed to prioritize what they wanted over what seemed "best" for me.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNdwZK3ww812r_LrQbD6jlAJuKJKet9hG4rgM17WREZJmhVY-BnEftdtDmi6NaIwbjazj_oKZKOEaw8k4a764K5oGvGcw8JPGV6hiwVUiboa_nByNV0kiDeFITezuXffmYXwIf1OImG9o/s1600/all-new-marvel-now-point-one-003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNdwZK3ww812r_LrQbD6jlAJuKJKet9hG4rgM17WREZJmhVY-BnEftdtDmi6NaIwbjazj_oKZKOEaw8k4a764K5oGvGcw8JPGV6hiwVUiboa_nByNV0kiDeFITezuXffmYXwIf1OImG9o/s1600/all-new-marvel-now-point-one-003.jpg" height="640" width="416" /></a></div>
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And I know what it's like to be punished for doing what I felt wasn't just right - but right because of its <i>necessity</i>. </div>
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And knowing that no matter what I said or did ...</div>
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<br /></div>
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... it wouldn't be enough to sway the authority figures in my life that I was justified.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM0dlwx4p3koVYvvEBelVQTKQlCuYo-d46NCXaYulVKP7gHWHPbMh5H8jxNr3X5KaiXJ2WzhE-63-lRwDf2LIKcxIOD9fA9nKSxhA9m6UrU6R8mNbKLmpU1bzhqqMplQ9y2FXzMOUBNJU/s1600/Aamir-Khan-and-Kamala-Khan-in-Ms.-Marvel-2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM0dlwx4p3koVYvvEBelVQTKQlCuYo-d46NCXaYulVKP7gHWHPbMh5H8jxNr3X5KaiXJ2WzhE-63-lRwDf2LIKcxIOD9fA9nKSxhA9m6UrU6R8mNbKLmpU1bzhqqMplQ9y2FXzMOUBNJU/s1600/Aamir-Khan-and-Kamala-Khan-in-Ms.-Marvel-2.png" height="227" width="640" /></a></div>
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And that's what I think makes Kamala such a great character. That, for all her differences from my own life, there are as many similarities as there are differences.</div>
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And, realizing that, I realize so much more.</div>
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I realize how wonderful this variety really is, in seeing representations so beautifully rendered of people who have not been part of my own experiences, but who are presented as fully-realized human characters the reader is meant to appreciate and empathize with even as those differences are highlighted in the stories and art.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh4zr2FAyklK21mVNhFFmVJ7mGI5ou1a9granG0jcc8RhValQmw4v_6rcuN3oRmGFuQLIfc9uDonZzVkSk5IAnSrWtb6Y1f9TGUZa4jgodHcuLZYCLjoAZEIMs5wkI7oSkoBQczkRyNG0/s1600/Kamala+Khan+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh4zr2FAyklK21mVNhFFmVJ7mGI5ou1a9granG0jcc8RhValQmw4v_6rcuN3oRmGFuQLIfc9uDonZzVkSk5IAnSrWtb6Y1f9TGUZa4jgodHcuLZYCLjoAZEIMs5wkI7oSkoBQczkRyNG0/s1600/Kamala+Khan+2.JPG" height="487" width="640" /></a></div>
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And that has an affect on me that's like a balm to my own pain over how different I have always felt in my own life. </div>
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And that realization leads to another realization in and of itself that can be a special challenge, as I've said before, for me because of my autism: the need for <i>empathy </i>- at all times, in all cases, in all situations.</div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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For everyone - not just those who fit one standard, but the width and breadth of human shapes and sizes.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQxt6zD_rDldYOyIgDcASPYij3HihWML9VTg28nEhN7uLjYOG5HS5GvWQVrdRKNO79ffX1Y_xND0gzzOnVfqPEkDKEU2lbZuzJMjANNswNnH7V-kxROloJWW-BQ_5lQKJDJf1l461OPl4/s1600/kamala-khan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQxt6zD_rDldYOyIgDcASPYij3HihWML9VTg28nEhN7uLjYOG5HS5GvWQVrdRKNO79ffX1Y_xND0gzzOnVfqPEkDKEU2lbZuzJMjANNswNnH7V-kxROloJWW-BQ_5lQKJDJf1l461OPl4/s1600/kamala-khan.jpg" height="456" width="640" /></a></div>
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And that's when the next realization piles on: that I'm one of those unconventional shapes. I'm one of those unconventional sizes.</div>
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And that, like Kamala, I have to learn the hardest empathy of all ...</div>
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... which is empathy for <i>myself</i>.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhITwF72s33Tbohy_kLlxv8QBuJJdsOo9GoXSMgdsA-kKyE47xo2AvnrH-_CwVMndxnQTNkjWoEE-P4u68GrAj2PnL0J7WmH9U0ILkRfkl11Dvq8uukJidBX6_GmHAgvNws6yYpwOWMb_g/s1600/3709667-kamala+khan+(ms.%2Bmarvel)%2B03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhITwF72s33Tbohy_kLlxv8QBuJJdsOo9GoXSMgdsA-kKyE47xo2AvnrH-_CwVMndxnQTNkjWoEE-P4u68GrAj2PnL0J7WmH9U0ILkRfkl11Dvq8uukJidBX6_GmHAgvNws6yYpwOWMb_g/s1600/3709667-kamala+khan+(ms.%2Bmarvel)%2B03.jpg" height="279" width="640" /></a></div>
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Because that's a fight for me.</div>
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Because no matter how much I try, it's hardest for me to have empathy for myself, even as I try to have empathy for others.</div>
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But Kamala reminds me that empathy for oneself has to come first before we can worry about helping other people.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYTZDuVdvCbQFUkEIGNWQEhuHutECim5Tq4sOD9ZM059pD0HcOf_TDl-4njOGa7G-RZpCNXzizOZbUyK4ENzLGj43_RKVU3f4JqOeXqAhyphenhyphen8ODz7-4jb89E1pqADv2WpSb-46-ROT7dou0/s1600/1899750_243141442536331_763387626_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYTZDuVdvCbQFUkEIGNWQEhuHutECim5Tq4sOD9ZM059pD0HcOf_TDl-4njOGa7G-RZpCNXzizOZbUyK4ENzLGj43_RKVU3f4JqOeXqAhyphenhyphen8ODz7-4jb89E1pqADv2WpSb-46-ROT7dou0/s1600/1899750_243141442536331_763387626_o.jpg" height="640" width="416" /></a></div>
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And I have to remember that, even though I am an atheist, the universe has blessed me with so many good things. </div>
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And I have to appreciate them, so that I can best use those gifts to help others.</div>
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And live up to standing as tall as I can in this world.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHEc5e8DZAV1t73UtmAr70Bv4ZY-dPgq09bMpQi0gR7DkeNbfWD6pkpZpUC7a48IXmMZ9O9gW4Z-RZzW_9J7v7xkc1zTGhGmcZ9Rww_fZS4dIsyJNgIcMObQHOCOsJdXi2qU6kuS6ChQ8/s1600/a6a3a25ef6dcfe3ad75715bca5dec6e1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHEc5e8DZAV1t73UtmAr70Bv4ZY-dPgq09bMpQi0gR7DkeNbfWD6pkpZpUC7a48IXmMZ9O9gW4Z-RZzW_9J7v7xkc1zTGhGmcZ9Rww_fZS4dIsyJNgIcMObQHOCOsJdXi2qU6kuS6ChQ8/s1600/a6a3a25ef6dcfe3ad75715bca5dec6e1.jpg" height="640" width="566" /></a></div>
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And Kamala's shapeshifting power is a wonderful metaphor for these realizations, with her powers to change her appearance based on her needs - and her mood - serving to show how much power ... and danger ... can come from how one sees oneself.</div>
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And it can make a person beautiful no matter what shape they are.</div>
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And it can make them strong.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy9jtvZ0uaCGdR-5Gxd1XQVn5achOyTyKwqLty2kY6cWnIvYJJAN02Tr27dVkis87DRp74umLxr6xYSJOnH84em_wSXoIi9Bw8UkVrTOmcX5OIEzYE3bLO8C6ECwCPU5rphTGmuGfczV8/s1600/kamala+(1).png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy9jtvZ0uaCGdR-5Gxd1XQVn5achOyTyKwqLty2kY6cWnIvYJJAN02Tr27dVkis87DRp74umLxr6xYSJOnH84em_wSXoIi9Bw8UkVrTOmcX5OIEzYE3bLO8C6ECwCPU5rphTGmuGfczV8/s1600/kamala+(1).png" height="640" width="449" /></a></div>
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And it can help us to fight back against those very powers that tell us we're not <i>enough</i> of this or that, or <i>enough</i> of anything, or <i>enough</i> to be worthwhile.</div>
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Because we totally are.</div>
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<br /></div>
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And when we realize that, there's nothing we can't accomplish.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP2sny-tx3DVF7OJPz0fDvSzskKPpsyMAnALSq9fIDX1nk5-mBzFahPbzUoplrYvt3btk9DscVQf4spdr1obkT5LtO6KK8RWPjMJ866Yd17EDU_OjT-i0FziRtHEhZlBzNwBrlKe-QVns/s1600/tumblr_n0poxtHcjH1rf3yiyo1_500.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP2sny-tx3DVF7OJPz0fDvSzskKPpsyMAnALSq9fIDX1nk5-mBzFahPbzUoplrYvt3btk9DscVQf4spdr1obkT5LtO6KK8RWPjMJ866Yd17EDU_OjT-i0FziRtHEhZlBzNwBrlKe-QVns/s1600/tumblr_n0poxtHcjH1rf3yiyo1_500.png" /></a></div>
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And we don't have to be perfect by someone else's standards.</div>
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And we don't have to even accept those standards.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We can punch them into the stratosphere, instead.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But it isn't just that kind of aggressive or destructive power that makes Kamala an amazing character to me.</div>
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And it's not in how she fights that strikes me the most.</div>
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It's in how she heals.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWSqWzx_Vg2IZx3HtAiqKUg9t3Q51ur9R-6EsuCfWrtTkvAxxU6zLhMIwdJDme-ZedEHtshZIovONLwG0G-vgXxhgkCBgOmDf9YGSBRrVXpHjn9LYOEQ7bdrLbGm0DOtn3E_TI3zSf-V4/s1600/Screen-Shot-2014-05-28-at-8.50.47-AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWSqWzx_Vg2IZx3HtAiqKUg9t3Q51ur9R-6EsuCfWrtTkvAxxU6zLhMIwdJDme-ZedEHtshZIovONLwG0G-vgXxhgkCBgOmDf9YGSBRrVXpHjn9LYOEQ7bdrLbGm0DOtn3E_TI3zSf-V4/s1600/Screen-Shot-2014-05-28-at-8.50.47-AM.png" height="409" width="640" /></a></div>
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And I cried when I first read this panel.</div>
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And I cry as I'm posting it to this blog now.</div>
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Because that one image and collection of words says so much to me about the kind of person I am and want to be, the kind of hero I want to be.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHR2XZcbrtqnmd7ewRHtQFxgq5s7lSTbHmKmtCU7EPGIwdgxi1TabRin7dlIWGaVh8chfzrpeoTiCXDfOyOQe6kqH2LMHesHzHDnhtbwMwVCxY4oxabPDMLu3aT53PcNs_CU5bes4Ycrg/s1600/background.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHR2XZcbrtqnmd7ewRHtQFxgq5s7lSTbHmKmtCU7EPGIwdgxi1TabRin7dlIWGaVh8chfzrpeoTiCXDfOyOQe6kqH2LMHesHzHDnhtbwMwVCxY4oxabPDMLu3aT53PcNs_CU5bes4Ycrg/s1600/background.jpg" /></a></div>
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Because it's great to fantasize about being invulnerable, indestructible, capable of changing shape and appearance to stand tall and fight the good fight.</div>
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But that's not where healing happens.</div>
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And it doesn't happen until we're our regular selves.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7FNEmuveYumKW62LTS9MYqvE6vO9FAFLtpaF4jK5QoSM3MpOqjmBmTWcF9FvDjInkSPDCQxY2XiBMxGrbCxvPDSbK8_KhzyKpxmvWCLMaRLGRbWCnrpQUvlKD-qMi5VwIUBoJFxzKYNk/s1600/thumb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7FNEmuveYumKW62LTS9MYqvE6vO9FAFLtpaF4jK5QoSM3MpOqjmBmTWcF9FvDjInkSPDCQxY2XiBMxGrbCxvPDSbK8_KhzyKpxmvWCLMaRLGRbWCnrpQUvlKD-qMi5VwIUBoJFxzKYNk/s1600/thumb.jpg" /></a></div>
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And that's where Kamala gets to me most.</div>
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Not as her super-hero self, and not as her normal self, but in the combination of the two.</div>
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Because Kamala is the real hero of the comic - not just Ms. Marvel.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzckpSHpWNE1_0JFYQsw8UdQAIrO-pavIJ2uuySn793FMvnTx3emr107juAwfQrUExfpqM8mMPT7Nb0T0nGdRp4Ws3qotV1y4j2ddNXI6bdLpnEH5PDaitn_Ifs4RiZpTQKYIQto5KaZE/s1600/tumblr_mvtq4kDwpg1qlnal3o1_500.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzckpSHpWNE1_0JFYQsw8UdQAIrO-pavIJ2uuySn793FMvnTx3emr107juAwfQrUExfpqM8mMPT7Nb0T0nGdRp4Ws3qotV1y4j2ddNXI6bdLpnEH5PDaitn_Ifs4RiZpTQKYIQto5KaZE/s1600/tumblr_mvtq4kDwpg1qlnal3o1_500.png" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
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And watching Kamala discover that is both strengthening <i>and</i> healing. <br />
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And it makes me feel like a hero no matter how I look, or where I am ... because I know that even when it can't so easily be seen, and even when I feel my smallest ... that heroism is there inside of me.</div>
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And that helps me stand tallest of all, because I'm standing tall as myself.</div>
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Dee Emm Elmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14053652749413575579noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1555007489284044452.post-87863009058706957942014-08-30T10:02:00.000-07:002014-08-30T10:02:01.450-07:00"A little grime is more than fine." (Terry aka Terry the Tomboy aka LovesDirt96)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJk-r7R8aTsQsb5LnZWl3dmyZsphCmNs3fOJEXGCzTBUo-QKks9uOg1n5BuKXfwJZfFmDywRwas9_O1GRqGXHgpNAcvjDD32a8fc7jBei5xfskkpzSRzSsnhg0LnpIpW9-rAIkIEMuvU0/s1600/terryboxed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJk-r7R8aTsQsb5LnZWl3dmyZsphCmNs3fOJEXGCzTBUo-QKks9uOg1n5BuKXfwJZfFmDywRwas9_O1GRqGXHgpNAcvjDD32a8fc7jBei5xfskkpzSRzSsnhg0LnpIpW9-rAIkIEMuvU0/s1600/terryboxed.jpg" /></a></div>
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You know what's I think is the best kind of awesomeness?</div>
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The way heroes can come into your life at any time. It isn't restricted to when you're a kid. I know this is true, because I'm not a kid, but I just found a new hero.</div>
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That hero's name is Terry, though she goes by some other names: Terry the Tomboy, and LovesDirt96.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0LEm0oHOuEG_WMynixfL9JgTZ6EJB-O7cmi3hvFtoCCa1bHQJMEI-kNLZ1XE-864mS89zvZAShOoyjACcvLy6pyYwv8L0oLAN4g9iWZ5xDRaX6iaYl1LIgPQ3QCCEMs10wP2R6gQswNQ/s1600/maxresdefault.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0LEm0oHOuEG_WMynixfL9JgTZ6EJB-O7cmi3hvFtoCCa1bHQJMEI-kNLZ1XE-864mS89zvZAShOoyjACcvLy6pyYwv8L0oLAN4g9iWZ5xDRaX6iaYl1LIgPQ3QCCEMs10wP2R6gQswNQ/s1600/maxresdefault.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
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Terry the Tomboy is portrayed by <a href="https://www.youtube.com/user/liamariejohnson" target="_blank">Lia Marie Johnson</a>, a very talented actress who regularly plays the character - as well as many others - on a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/user/AwesomenessTV" target="_blank">YouTube channel </a>and <a href="http://www.nick.com/awesomeness-tv/" target="_blank">television show</a>, both called <i>Awesomeness TV.</i></div>
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Recently, though, the Terry character broke out from Awesomeness TV's format of brief sketches and became the subject of a TV movie on <a href="http://nick.com/">Nickelodeon.</a> </div>
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And that movie where I discovered Terry - and where I also discovered the fact that I think Terry rules. And I felt compelled to write this, to explain why I think she rules, and what the character means to me. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizmGLrf2NrBTKeuKJKafLrIKHwtiEPmVSa1GtS5p5o-BBaImr4iozb1W_6q9jTS3oNhcdPa5RyqU5ny6Xiew9qLkq51q397_4Fzt3LJEPuNja0M4Oj_qmQ9m_LnaTCJGlBu6zqWwT61cQ/s1600/-n0B_7uaj26l.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizmGLrf2NrBTKeuKJKafLrIKHwtiEPmVSa1GtS5p5o-BBaImr4iozb1W_6q9jTS3oNhcdPa5RyqU5ny6Xiew9qLkq51q397_4Fzt3LJEPuNja0M4Oj_qmQ9m_LnaTCJGlBu6zqWwT61cQ/s1600/-n0B_7uaj26l.jpg" /></a></div>
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In order to understand that question of why, though, you need to know the character. </div>
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So, for the uninitiated - the basic premise of the sketches and of the movie is that Terry is, true to her nickname, a tomboyish girl. Throughout the sketches and movie, Terry tries to help other people through an online advice-and-guidance video show she creates from her garage. With the assistance - and sometimes hinderance - of her style-obsessed cheerleader brother Brian (played by <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm2911799/">Chris Bones)</a> and her somewhat-hapless best friend Duncanty (<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm4555455/?ref_=tt_cl_t3">Noland Ammon</a>), Terry also uses these videos to chronicle her individual perspective on life.</div>
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And that perspective - that fearless expression of Terry's worldview in all its particular individuality - is key to what makes Terry awesome to me.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTTl2wGFgDCbIbPd_BzjWZNdCcYOq3xVug2X1rAMYWjsnBOsqRLg30nftwFC_L4njKW67OCgoDjLLLIse91dvuV2PDRLzfecHLW9RYd2xW-QEN6g4BWmD-xT9dFasWuzqwLnKIudlldU0/s1600/tumblr_mhcysrTo711rvqzo4o1_1280.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTTl2wGFgDCbIbPd_BzjWZNdCcYOq3xVug2X1rAMYWjsnBOsqRLg30nftwFC_L4njKW67OCgoDjLLLIse91dvuV2PDRLzfecHLW9RYd2xW-QEN6g4BWmD-xT9dFasWuzqwLnKIudlldU0/s1600/tumblr_mhcysrTo711rvqzo4o1_1280.png" height="640" width="640" /></a></div>
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You see, Terry knows exactly who and what she is.</div>
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And she's cool with that.</div>
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Because Terry's cool with being, well, Terry. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFe_YE2bwDpXp9pg-BiDtLiMOqImU4rtX0AzpBw82ZVeBxYeApcDcai2rXF4QEUnfjgCZZmGQ-pHKAvhh1tHqpMhBzB5lDiUMN6Bd6W4Q4Ks4_RKdTfRF8SXybuUHC4tjmCAdH9jnUKWE/s1600/terry-the-tomboy-movie-trailer-saturday-june-21-8-nhd18515-01-thumb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFe_YE2bwDpXp9pg-BiDtLiMOqImU4rtX0AzpBw82ZVeBxYeApcDcai2rXF4QEUnfjgCZZmGQ-pHKAvhh1tHqpMhBzB5lDiUMN6Bd6W4Q4Ks4_RKdTfRF8SXybuUHC4tjmCAdH9jnUKWE/s1600/terry-the-tomboy-movie-trailer-saturday-june-21-8-nhd18515-01-thumb.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
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That, in itself, would be heroic.</div>
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But Terry doesn't stop there. </div>
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Because Terry tells the world who and what she is, with her video guides.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzXRk2cnkE_QXiLBD_DLT0zp5xssexSzDsYymm6WJMutm-q0Hv9qG8ZXK__GRZfHQ9purLDrsRCicSYggDu1URhDsfheZi_iZLbVuO0gTyDjtXir6zFlLK7PCia6RGirE8diIClG7sKQE/s1600/0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzXRk2cnkE_QXiLBD_DLT0zp5xssexSzDsYymm6WJMutm-q0Hv9qG8ZXK__GRZfHQ9purLDrsRCicSYggDu1URhDsfheZi_iZLbVuO0gTyDjtXir6zFlLK7PCia6RGirE8diIClG7sKQE/s1600/0.jpg" /></a></div>
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And, yes, Terry's viewpoints can seem comedic and silly.</div>
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But that's also part of the appeal of the character, to me.</div>
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Because Terry doesn't just tell the world who and what she is. She does more than that. She shouts it. She dances to it. She posts her viewpoints without self-depreciation or irony and <i>doesn't</i> <i>care a bit </i>that other people might mock her for how the videos or viewpoints might make her look.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiF0GLkUpu_RAgde6rBsyps1z__23PiG5mZnWHAyICT8EE2DA2hfLgvJFwpvEyvOyCxQT8II6OEJIGqLSCCCNFNz54ONbq5Su71ZqY0tGP5HBuRY9ic6oO6ky5hLXL56h7YOFWw38f2ZU/s1600/terry9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiF0GLkUpu_RAgde6rBsyps1z__23PiG5mZnWHAyICT8EE2DA2hfLgvJFwpvEyvOyCxQT8II6OEJIGqLSCCCNFNz54ONbq5Su71ZqY0tGP5HBuRY9ic6oO6ky5hLXL56h7YOFWw38f2ZU/s1600/terry9.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
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What matters to Terry is is inspiring other people - getting the word out to other people that being a tomboy can be cool.</div>
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And that getting a tomboy can be cool.</div>
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And that - most important of all - being yourself is pretty much the best way to achieve true awesomeness.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9X9K97hD3vheYUxDsW2pMeCgaHD3l2L-X3rSRdvsmxWaJ3h2hh1Ih0Q43cg4GyZOe64MQumC5gUp_PqyXAKpm0wHXRgKN6Qzyv-O2NJ3xupTLWKjXWiDVJaEfPgxSOtF30ZiP0R9g5B0/s1600/Lia8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9X9K97hD3vheYUxDsW2pMeCgaHD3l2L-X3rSRdvsmxWaJ3h2hh1Ih0Q43cg4GyZOe64MQumC5gUp_PqyXAKpm0wHXRgKN6Qzyv-O2NJ3xupTLWKjXWiDVJaEfPgxSOtF30ZiP0R9g5B0/s1600/Lia8.jpg" /></a></div>
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Terry's proud of who she is. And, to my way of thinking, Terry's pride is in her strength - and her strength is in her pride.</div>
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And the way those two elements go together in Terry's character make her truly inspirational to me in real-life. </div>
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Because pride and strength simply <i>must</i> go together in real-life, too - especially when we're feeling our least confident and least impressive.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbdns7k4LmvwzsiGpS2hCZbCOdDEXZfgieeqgrAinyDJpiMR2jc-HOSTDhmKR3dG8ne1gwSZba4szDpoGLPtNmrNrhWNS7AnXpmDPB1syYngfA9GCxgHBLB9MsMNCVcmPilqX9ChASSo0/s1600/t736RB2nuQBl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbdns7k4LmvwzsiGpS2hCZbCOdDEXZfgieeqgrAinyDJpiMR2jc-HOSTDhmKR3dG8ne1gwSZba4szDpoGLPtNmrNrhWNS7AnXpmDPB1syYngfA9GCxgHBLB9MsMNCVcmPilqX9ChASSo0/s1600/t736RB2nuQBl.jpg" /></a></div>
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Because that authenticity - especially when we consider how shameful society can make authenticity can feel for our women and girls in American culture - is so important in the real world, and so sadly absent from American media so much of the time.</div>
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Because that kind of broad honestly - both in media and reality - is vital to existence, as far as I'm concerned.</div>
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Because I think it's the only way to be truly happy in real life.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4uTMZ96fUdFLWZpt-SmlkqX5EYFqu9nZyUMyr0fhQQvfA2OanYB4uHUM0r8U9aja077KaqJC6C3uwLcDP5eoimhEhclCjGp01rjFrkBq8zmVD2x5hXMQeW91HRBsXflfeRr99yzfeX6w/s1600/terry10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4uTMZ96fUdFLWZpt-SmlkqX5EYFqu9nZyUMyr0fhQQvfA2OanYB4uHUM0r8U9aja077KaqJC6C3uwLcDP5eoimhEhclCjGp01rjFrkBq8zmVD2x5hXMQeW91HRBsXflfeRr99yzfeX6w/s1600/terry10.jpg" /></a></div>
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And that's a real struggle for me, to maintain that pride and strength. Especially because, as I've said in prior blogs, I'm not the smartest person ... or the best person.</div>
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And I spend way too much time trying to be ... because I'm too often looking for perfection in myself, trying to <i>be</i> perfect as an abstract quality, judging myself when I fail.</div>
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And Terry inspires me because she's got the kind of attitude I most admire - the attitude of someone who is perfect at being themselves because that's all they're trying to be, both inside their own heads and how they present themselves to the rest of the world.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2kZWC3dZuY2go2sMw4G44ICXWCnpPl0xYPNYKz9R-6f5eqrUvwkruqJLaZICQRTnJ74xbkEJwY_5RW3rnhz0mZS59o0WvbcxMBPjSeNnnO2WaJEdUsO7hG2QqWNAmQmwds8bmux8mub8/s1600/terry2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2kZWC3dZuY2go2sMw4G44ICXWCnpPl0xYPNYKz9R-6f5eqrUvwkruqJLaZICQRTnJ74xbkEJwY_5RW3rnhz0mZS59o0WvbcxMBPjSeNnnO2WaJEdUsO7hG2QqWNAmQmwds8bmux8mub8/s1600/terry2.jpg" height="354" width="640" /></a></div>
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This lack of filtration of the self is something I've been working on in my own life for as long as I can remember. And, thanks to inspiration from characters like Terry, I've been succeeding more and more of late. Because an unfiltered life - a life where you let yourself show the world who you really are - is the only way to truly experience what life's all about, and to live in any particular moment unafraid of being judged for how you express yourself - no matter how it might look to others.</div>
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And, lately, I've finally come to understand how good it feels to throw off the weights of letting other people judge me. I've realized how liberating it can be to just express myself without worrying about whether or not it seems perfect. Plus, you know what else? Sometimes, it can really be just kind of fun to let myself be loud and proud of who and what I am ...</div>
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... and the things I truly love in life.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQZR60m47Y6RpKiptO_Pl8Q-OBXO4XwCgWXmb2B8rHdUVtSbuRVGHofEqYeTmw5FAv_vrH3FjsVIB30korOTto7ytSH1GM7LiQlVovK3xrrtroq-LylB-myD8o1jLWHmPD3tEHvHiyIjQ/s1600/terry12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQZR60m47Y6RpKiptO_Pl8Q-OBXO4XwCgWXmb2B8rHdUVtSbuRVGHofEqYeTmw5FAv_vrH3FjsVIB30korOTto7ytSH1GM7LiQlVovK3xrrtroq-LylB-myD8o1jLWHmPD3tEHvHiyIjQ/s1600/terry12.jpg" /></a></div>
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And it helps me be closer to other people.</div>
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Because those guards and filters can - and do - keep me away from other people. And having the support of friends becomes more and more important to me, the more honest and open I become about myself. I don't think people are designed to be isolated, even though solitude can sometimes be necessary. I think those of us who have been hurt by life can too often choose isolation as a path toward refusing to take a risk with other people. But, more and more, I find that life is better when you have friends, and people you let yourself care about, even though sometimes it won't be rewarded, and can sometimes lead to pain. </div>
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The pain is worth it, when you know that for every person who will turn out to be not quite what you expected them to be, there'll be someone else who turns into a best friend.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvxHyMKAzgAy04ex3PtH5Q3tGwYP9u31kMPU4JH5WTlOnEZJVa8aBoXG1TnyDOKeb7Vq_eYlMiOH9mVg-jtdLsc4VS1DWbmeM9SXRq6o6gktj6O7hztXJRqBRPeERTTZJ4BSbBZFkSjaY/s1600/terry-the-tomboy-large-marge-1024x576.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvxHyMKAzgAy04ex3PtH5Q3tGwYP9u31kMPU4JH5WTlOnEZJVa8aBoXG1TnyDOKeb7Vq_eYlMiOH9mVg-jtdLsc4VS1DWbmeM9SXRq6o6gktj6O7hztXJRqBRPeERTTZJ4BSbBZFkSjaY/s1600/terry-the-tomboy-large-marge-1024x576.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
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And Terry shows that to be the case in the essential nature of her character, and especially in<i> Terry the Tomboy: The Movie. </i>That's her best friend, Duncanty, whom I mentioned before, on the left in the picture above, but on the right is Brett (played by <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm3967559/?ref_=tt_cl_t8">Charlie DePew)</a>, a young man that initially impresses Terry in the film's plot, which revolves around what happens to Terry when she tries to win Brett's affections by doing everything except being herself out of fear that Brett might prefer Terry's early-childhood friend Britannica (<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm2733899/?ref_=ttfc_fc_cl_t19">Audrey Whitby</a>).</div>
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<i>So, wait, Dee</i>, I hear you saying. <i>This is one of those movies where the entire story is all about girls and boys fighting over each other's affections? Uhhhhhh.</i></div>
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And, yeah, I hear that. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSbAJHKOcyqNrGGG3OIhISD953FgzzuaKZXS2RQ26yibPGeKhCWv_FS42tyKR7GItQiMM3LjZ3CFa2PUe40snTaVZSa0YBBKjdBWfzZXKkn-OhMDGv5s-l7oQAo-T-7d_MMyx1eZcwnJQ/s1600/terry-the-tomboy-movie-awesomeness-tv-nickelodeon-nick-awesomenesstv-press-photo_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSbAJHKOcyqNrGGG3OIhISD953FgzzuaKZXS2RQ26yibPGeKhCWv_FS42tyKR7GItQiMM3LjZ3CFa2PUe40snTaVZSa0YBBKjdBWfzZXKkn-OhMDGv5s-l7oQAo-T-7d_MMyx1eZcwnJQ/s1600/terry-the-tomboy-movie-awesomeness-tv-nickelodeon-nick-awesomenesstv-press-photo_1.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
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But the thing is - this is part of what makes Terry such a great character, and what makes Lia Marie Johnson's portrayal of her so compellingly subversive.</div>
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Because Brett and Britannica and all the other plot elements that come and go in the film are there to illustrate some very real, very important themes, in my opinion. And those themes are what make <i>Terry the Tomboy: The Movie</i> unabashedly feminist, unabashedly girl-positive and an unabashed example of awesomeness.</div>
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Because the <i>themes</i> of the film, and the sketches - and the whole character's concept - revolve entirely around Terry.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJeMZQSq7pK1DlMuooxdbv4HTinJEAPCntHDaOdy4lKK2f99pTCNbvVuX-mxMaod0nZ9elyceVfNJHVXTMZX6qe-rBUQR7oyBzuw33W0y9Swaxnp53LCjye1R04zSmqaOayFhli4ddoVs/s1600/terrymini.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJeMZQSq7pK1DlMuooxdbv4HTinJEAPCntHDaOdy4lKK2f99pTCNbvVuX-mxMaod0nZ9elyceVfNJHVXTMZX6qe-rBUQR7oyBzuw33W0y9Swaxnp53LCjye1R04zSmqaOayFhli4ddoVs/s1600/terrymini.jpg" /></a></div>
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In fact, the film - like the sketches that preceded it - brings up an incredible number of tropes and wrongheaded ideas about the way American culture dictates how women and girls "should" present themselves, how they should act, how they should <i>be ...</i></div>
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... and then proceeds to dismantle and skewer those tropes and ideas through the power of Terry's winning personality and her unique perspective - so it becomes so much more than what could come off as just another creaky critique of America's poor attitude toward women and girls.</div>
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Terry leads on this portrayal not by mere essay, but also by example.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVNkrNn9MyT69nO27ftr5SZTGZ6CVY7TChwAevwLvUmZwgYoIvEaBywLkoMrENcV1eK6tnZcjH4rPnsf8aZ6AZAiagve814_Sr_Wxwto_UVVKXlb95zft7teQh8IMJOMyo-j6nIYl4aW4/s1600/2dxpElL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVNkrNn9MyT69nO27ftr5SZTGZ6CVY7TChwAevwLvUmZwgYoIvEaBywLkoMrENcV1eK6tnZcjH4rPnsf8aZ6AZAiagve814_Sr_Wxwto_UVVKXlb95zft7teQh8IMJOMyo-j6nIYl4aW4/s1600/2dxpElL.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
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She leads by showing girls that whoever they are, they can aspire. </div>
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And she leads by showing girls they can present themselves as who they really are inside without having to worry about being presentable by some arbitrary standard that would recuse them back into their rooms out of fear of judgment.</div>
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And she leads by showing girls that they can be tough, and rugged, and strong, and capable.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguHsxtd3saKAJtet84llbA6Nh45bY9qCuJ5qOjpj7XxB2N0R5nDnTpmSUk69DqQTesU1PbgLIPaPMIAniCb4LX1BHhmaVuyeus2syRwDnNatbGzNfE8WqsDTvRh5g31uOXYBXy6-7g3lc/s1600/lia-terry-the-tomboy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguHsxtd3saKAJtet84llbA6Nh45bY9qCuJ5qOjpj7XxB2N0R5nDnTpmSUk69DqQTesU1PbgLIPaPMIAniCb4LX1BHhmaVuyeus2syRwDnNatbGzNfE8WqsDTvRh5g31uOXYBXy6-7g3lc/s1600/lia-terry-the-tomboy.jpg" /></a></div>
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But what's also important to see there is that Terry <i>shows</i> people these things.</div>
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She doesn't just <i>tell </i>it to them.</div>
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And Lia Marie Johnson presents Terry as utterly fearless in portraying that, and - to me - that's absolutely wonderful.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihyLXI3ulhiduMn_bj2H-ZNEhgoOv6SUqhSV1o6U0DqDq_ApSPH23xxQJR9tlCCdQpL4MXttFqvcKq75tN2M7baQWrU5rxJ5Fw6l8-cm6Ms79Xw3XlLi-1pc7lQAmv2JbBWJuehfOh1Rs/s1600/tomboy.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihyLXI3ulhiduMn_bj2H-ZNEhgoOv6SUqhSV1o6U0DqDq_ApSPH23xxQJR9tlCCdQpL4MXttFqvcKq75tN2M7baQWrU5rxJ5Fw6l8-cm6Ms79Xw3XlLi-1pc7lQAmv2JbBWJuehfOh1Rs/s1600/tomboy.png" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
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Because, well, Terry isn't afraid to get dirty.</div>
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In fact, she loves dirt.</div>
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She is, after all, LovesDirt96.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhebnIltlmp6EGNPg4ovr7fFvJ0ixDVPvJkpdat4a9rKA_60UO2lhdo7Ve3aAnezrPd1AR2HGJhPFWkX5vtbas_sHF520Axr6PmdxatCTHyqj7DW-CfT0t2xh2Pgykr7TGAeNOe7BkyX8c/s1600/img_15573_terry-the-tomboy-summer-style.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhebnIltlmp6EGNPg4ovr7fFvJ0ixDVPvJkpdat4a9rKA_60UO2lhdo7Ve3aAnezrPd1AR2HGJhPFWkX5vtbas_sHF520Axr6PmdxatCTHyqj7DW-CfT0t2xh2Pgykr7TGAeNOe7BkyX8c/s1600/img_15573_terry-the-tomboy-summer-style.jpg" /></a></div>
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And that's huge to me. Because we spend so much time in American culture telling girls they can't get dirty - which, to my way of thinking, is also telling girls never to even try to achieve. Because trying and achieving - the way Terry does - will <i>inevitably</i> get a person dirty. </div>
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And, for the silliest and most superficial elements in American society, that's a problem. And that can lead to problems for girls who try and achieve and build and fight for themselves and who shout to be heard and who take over the positions our society says are only for boys.</div>
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You know ... the ones folks so often call tomboys.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrqrkNxP0HrdyHghW_bWPeHFo5yWqccWFKHjZd05rmqJRxqT2sDgDGm9q-zMu8az11hRziu6ZKmTH4SbYZStJsVP6HJlDsmBE79IMKs5VIKspTKi5VUTsjrQqzZXB8DkfvgKw-yPnFcbw/s1600/terry7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrqrkNxP0HrdyHghW_bWPeHFo5yWqccWFKHjZd05rmqJRxqT2sDgDGm9q-zMu8az11hRziu6ZKmTH4SbYZStJsVP6HJlDsmBE79IMKs5VIKspTKi5VUTsjrQqzZXB8DkfvgKw-yPnFcbw/s1600/terry7.jpg" height="376" width="640" /></a></div>
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But is Terry worried about them? Is she worried about what folks say when she walks through town covered in mud, in her trucker hat and her flannel, eating her coldcut-and-bacon sandwich?</div>
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Nope.</div>
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Because Terry's inherent awesomeness is that everything she does, she does like Terry does it.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgts3Enwk7EGScivcgZ-KbCgS-GUAVzzUFDc0bMza29nKqEdsY6gcI6QB_v_NhfzlstHtf8CKYHr4jqpmsXJPQh7x0HDWggqKKh4_vOeJPjrxisUAoDgYHZHsDKMSrONAwLWib7aofpTVk/s1600/2JQYab4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgts3Enwk7EGScivcgZ-KbCgS-GUAVzzUFDc0bMza29nKqEdsY6gcI6QB_v_NhfzlstHtf8CKYHr4jqpmsXJPQh7x0HDWggqKKh4_vOeJPjrxisUAoDgYHZHsDKMSrONAwLWib7aofpTVk/s1600/2JQYab4.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
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Whether she's swimming through mud or trying her hand at being a cheerleader, she's first and foremost always Terry.</div>
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And that unchanging, immutable quality is also pure awesomeness.</div>
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Because it also means Terry's kind of<i> indestructible, </i>in the most positive sense of that concept.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMvwhewK-p7CJRIQzVNdvCdsArvxvDKGgAnxU4TwO5FLa-5oMNU-QRe0JWrp0qg4T5-ZOUiUOaZHgYfw5jP5EVJR5cxVF8F7kZgNJtlBx_bpuito_e3MBWqp0BkSU2F8xP9T9SXr2d-a8/s1600/terry1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMvwhewK-p7CJRIQzVNdvCdsArvxvDKGgAnxU4TwO5FLa-5oMNU-QRe0JWrp0qg4T5-ZOUiUOaZHgYfw5jP5EVJR5cxVF8F7kZgNJtlBx_bpuito_e3MBWqp0BkSU2F8xP9T9SXr2d-a8/s1600/terry1.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
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And I think girls - and women - need a few indestructible heroes now and then.</div>
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We need to see that women and girls can be themselves and still win in life, without having to take off their glasses and shake out their hair and change who they are and what they look like and what they value to win the day.</div>
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We need to see that girls and women can walk through tough times and come out on the other side intact, uncompromising - taking out the trash that gets in their way in life without throwing out who they are along with it.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijfZ5P78naNn7IUJYk85nQrqE1djcr3skTPoT_iL0WMJb8INtVYAKEP4ZOFMNSlO1-VqwD-eOuef7U9j5PMH4aV49kHXlI5HqIhc5RqXyAWIcqD2YAkIYDWftXZaMbORqKPW6NBq2L_8c/s1600/terry11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijfZ5P78naNn7IUJYk85nQrqE1djcr3skTPoT_iL0WMJb8INtVYAKEP4ZOFMNSlO1-VqwD-eOuef7U9j5PMH4aV49kHXlI5HqIhc5RqXyAWIcqD2YAkIYDWftXZaMbORqKPW6NBq2L_8c/s1600/terry11.jpg" /></a></div>
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But what's also great - to the level of awesomeness - is that Terry isn't indestructible in a big vacuum like is so common with the Indestructible Hero type. She's not simply imitating the guise of the stereotypical indestructible male American hero. She's not a "dude in a dress," despite the word "tomboy" in her name. </div>
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She's not some feminized armature around the core of a stubbly loner brodude who's staring into the middle distance while he cleans his stubbly loner gear for his next stubbly loner mission. Instead, Terry is portrayed as listening to other people, being open to new ideas and new experiences and getting out into the world to try new things. And, succeed or fail, she refuses be ashamed for very long, even when she falters in front of others. </div>
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Because Terry isn't anti-social.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkDO3Q4CRH_VUzZ9Kr9yMSoPaB29xD27atV1hUg6aEq91vmJe-ucULWccobyRDP9S1W5CRh6kSvdLrq-l6HyBPKloq5ymcDZ4-l5INxS2Xwrkayxp_PDbxFdsIzZBzJhSe-Nu5IIVAXLc/s1600/10455694_10152555994031318_4153573249353044723_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkDO3Q4CRH_VUzZ9Kr9yMSoPaB29xD27atV1hUg6aEq91vmJe-ucULWccobyRDP9S1W5CRh6kSvdLrq-l6HyBPKloq5ymcDZ4-l5INxS2Xwrkayxp_PDbxFdsIzZBzJhSe-Nu5IIVAXLc/s1600/10455694_10152555994031318_4153573249353044723_n.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
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And I mean that in multiple ways. Because being anti-social isn't just and only shunning the company of others. Because, so often, girls in America are actively encouraged to be anti-social even as they're instructed to be so-called "social butterflies."</div>
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Because girls are so often taught in American society to be mistrustful of each other - by advisement and personal experience. And girls in America are also taught to compete fiercely for the resource of the attention of others, versus actual friendship. And girls in America are also told that all their achievements can only matter in metrics of popularity, exposure, media presence.</div>
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And that's not fair. And it's not right. And it's also deeply unhealthy. Because that kind of behavior can keep people from becoming who they were meant to be. It can keep hearts from opening up to the fullness of our shared human experiences with other people. It can lead to feelings of isolation, to desperate loneliness even in a crowd. And it can keep all of us from blossoming into full, uniquely individual people.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRy6a-OmTHUvDzopAWAqVwfAONKqCV1haxvSws7rvp5ZMkMfJelmJ56LgnIXWbILMZPAXoAU3K0GrBaBgjITvjiUuia-ZmleNm-8qaRQ6SrFYQNa1Ph9zfl6U9QKsPQqD4LdSV0kPeNAE/s1600/awesomenesstv-terry-the-tomboy-nickelodeon-nick-lia-marie-johnson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRy6a-OmTHUvDzopAWAqVwfAONKqCV1haxvSws7rvp5ZMkMfJelmJ56LgnIXWbILMZPAXoAU3K0GrBaBgjITvjiUuia-ZmleNm-8qaRQ6SrFYQNa1Ph9zfl6U9QKsPQqD4LdSV0kPeNAE/s1600/awesomenesstv-terry-the-tomboy-nickelodeon-nick-lia-marie-johnson.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
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And so I thank Lia Marie Johnson for portraying Terry as a character who counters all these bad examples with one amazingly awesome good example that, to my way of thinking, does a world of good to so many girls - and to everyone, really - who need an example like Terry.</div>
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Whether part of the design of the character or not, Terry ends up representing what girls - and people in general - can be if they cast aside worries of how they'll be seen by others. She represents how much fun life can be if you're willing to let yourself breathe by throwing away the shields and barriers between yourself and the rest of the world. And she represents how it's OK to be imperfect, and messy - like real-life is. </div>
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Because Terry is a good example that has helped me tremendously in my own life, and I like to think she helps others. And, as far as I'm concerned, helping people lead better lives represents the very best and most incredible kind of awesomeness there is.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6-46UwrLqLdRHCkZhsgEM6FCHR-aPpkqCnlBuF9wrRwY2tYH2uIdvss1mVmkoBNF1n_iPdZmFyRYE3tYqy43kWb74qMOWQGyVcJQtxmbt0-vd8ziGlz0QCL3tTJQplzsPn3OIODDlkGI/s1600/awesomenesstv-terry-the-tomboy-host-4x3-blog-image-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6-46UwrLqLdRHCkZhsgEM6FCHR-aPpkqCnlBuF9wrRwY2tYH2uIdvss1mVmkoBNF1n_iPdZmFyRYE3tYqy43kWb74qMOWQGyVcJQtxmbt0-vd8ziGlz0QCL3tTJQplzsPn3OIODDlkGI/s1600/awesomenesstv-terry-the-tomboy-host-4x3-blog-image-3.jpg" /></a></div>
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Dee Emm Elmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14053652749413575579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1555007489284044452.post-85906100526818552792014-08-09T11:20:00.002-07:002014-08-10T14:34:33.054-07:00"Kid, there's a lot you don't understand." (Arcee)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinUnEBaJdqwUXvRYC2SdC4MVouQGe_8jixTB-AUq-tYYsFx5rBC503WBRxV7O5e4oRQCp2yg7AqWVFzdXTv_B3IAfS4nf86OVxJ3zzAlHgxNfpTHEvbv9epE0fJi4CHYsT0xvMv6z64bY/s1600/Transformers-Prime-Arcee-fans-of-arcee-tf-22271570-677-921.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinUnEBaJdqwUXvRYC2SdC4MVouQGe_8jixTB-AUq-tYYsFx5rBC503WBRxV7O5e4oRQCp2yg7AqWVFzdXTv_B3IAfS4nf86OVxJ3zzAlHgxNfpTHEvbv9epE0fJi4CHYsT0xvMv6z64bY/s1600/Transformers-Prime-Arcee-fans-of-arcee-tf-22271570-677-921.jpg" height="640" width="470" /></a></div>
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Humans. <br />
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I just ... don't <i>get</i> them.</div>
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In fact - as an autistic person, I often feel like I have more in common with machines than with people.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV1auA0vYwFO_qaMcQqaQKgXy39fEvao1h42vAsR_2MlUcbxkJJiQqsyFDmJZknCU8UJxt-JKwmEdew8nBVPX4Q20w28ro8uQHfhkkHlXSGl_Pgo-anpvG0L0q-pYk3diBKuyyl6s9zgM/s1600/xarceex.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV1auA0vYwFO_qaMcQqaQKgXy39fEvao1h42vAsR_2MlUcbxkJJiQqsyFDmJZknCU8UJxt-JKwmEdew8nBVPX4Q20w28ro8uQHfhkkHlXSGl_Pgo-anpvG0L0q-pYk3diBKuyyl6s9zgM/s1600/xarceex.jpg" height="562" width="640" /></a></div>
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And when machines<i> are</i> people?</div>
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Well, that affinity is infinitely magnified.</div>
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So, yeah - what I'm saying here is that I really love robots.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7RtWTtwPJ-shHhYdOJBO4Fzs45EhHQ9uN5CK8cF5UBmI6spcp9DwIfZjyYfFPdjZT6hnVV1FgwqXYco8cbqbxL0lYGkFyWXWosoYThbSFqsZuyKehJdFUiN6x6okbVJQBcSnKo-o902Y/s1600/arcee204.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7RtWTtwPJ-shHhYdOJBO4Fzs45EhHQ9uN5CK8cF5UBmI6spcp9DwIfZjyYfFPdjZT6hnVV1FgwqXYco8cbqbxL0lYGkFyWXWosoYThbSFqsZuyKehJdFUiN6x6okbVJQBcSnKo-o902Y/s1600/arcee204.jpg" height="640" width="483" /></a></div>
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And I've really loved robots for as long as I can remember. <br />
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But, as a kid - I didn't just love them. I wanted to BE LIKE them.<br />
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In fact - as a kid, I liked to pretend I <i>was </i>a robot.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTBg7jAohbN7iynSRVaU5Lk92suxJtml6oPxA8uZsqWQQHl11LGfgLcbG9M47Oru1B7IvrQZBkqdTPpEyhnAwVPGLGz6mUHHmuYx_44A7exOZceDu7OdWJ1Z95r4fH4HvY_M0wyXk9zgE/s1600/chibi_arcee_aquarel_by_lyricabelachium-d3dwaku.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTBg7jAohbN7iynSRVaU5Lk92suxJtml6oPxA8uZsqWQQHl11LGfgLcbG9M47Oru1B7IvrQZBkqdTPpEyhnAwVPGLGz6mUHHmuYx_44A7exOZceDu7OdWJ1Z95r4fH4HvY_M0wyXk9zgE/s1600/chibi_arcee_aquarel_by_lyricabelachium-d3dwaku.png" height="640" width="362" /></a></div>
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It helped in a lot of ways.<br />
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It stirred my creativity. Coming up with the powers, limitations and abilities of my robot-self made for awesome mental exercises. And, if you know my history, you can probably also understand that it was, mentally, very calming and soothing for me to pretend I was a robot. It was a respite from my fears and anxieties about the emotional expectations of others, because robots generally aren't held to the same social standards of emotional scrutiny as humans.<br />
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And you know what else? It also helped me deal with some of my crushes.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1wXxMmyfmxtvlo7BHh7XyJLjVn9ietlnvFeDNW61mLNmrmHICJblMwUuPaPIkDZ4bD1usTh6vJeqEmLYc-u-FvmY1Y8OTootUTyzSf76V0zGTbaL0sJvmRXUXORd92ZH6lR1AozRFJ9A/s1600/wee_bee_and_arcee_by_prisonsuit_rabbitman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1wXxMmyfmxtvlo7BHh7XyJLjVn9ietlnvFeDNW61mLNmrmHICJblMwUuPaPIkDZ4bD1usTh6vJeqEmLYc-u-FvmY1Y8OTootUTyzSf76V0zGTbaL0sJvmRXUXORd92ZH6lR1AozRFJ9A/s1600/wee_bee_and_arcee_by_prisonsuit_rabbitman.jpg" /></a></div>
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Surprised by this? <br />
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I hope you're not. Because, hey, surprise; autistic kids can have crushes. And trans girls can have crushes. And when someone has both of those aspects in themselves? <br />
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Yeah, even then - kids like that can still have crushes.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh-970TMZUpZ1JVewiOOIR4FxTdw3TIzXVE2o8x4JrwnyGkoIhnDtYeyjHW23HApWIPWxAwEPkZHEh0s0hiZhoJZpawvX2wtKmeKbl7KglasYcxSO8T3imJUBjDyn3Wf1i3ewBFX92VqM/s1600/commission___arcee___grimlock_by_mattmoylan-d30rms8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh-970TMZUpZ1JVewiOOIR4FxTdw3TIzXVE2o8x4JrwnyGkoIhnDtYeyjHW23HApWIPWxAwEPkZHEh0s0hiZhoJZpawvX2wtKmeKbl7KglasYcxSO8T3imJUBjDyn3Wf1i3ewBFX92VqM/s1600/commission___arcee___grimlock_by_mattmoylan-d30rms8.jpg" /></a></div>
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Now, of course, for any kid who's growing up, crushes can be complicated. They can be messy. They can be something of an emotional train-wreck.<br />
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But when you add the factors of being a trans person and also having a mental disability onto the everyday emotional train-wreck of a crush, the complications pile on to each other. And the mess gets that much bigger. And the wreck gets that much worse. And when things get complicated, kids - and autistic kids, in particular - can get overwhelmed. And they can just emotionally melt down over it.<br />
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And autistic meltdowns can often be some of the worst; the messiest; the most wrecking; the most <i>damaging</i>.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvVD6N1fSeYqHrpg5zUwRb7dQlgZSSA6O3oGm0et_nhLXscc0h1fZsFVipACMasjeBqflcbJZp3dHYPTnBfOINvliXQXM8vR-AZDTcuvGzg_uE6gSE9EoRMpEOzwV-BedgGQh8eurymD8/s1600/arcee_colors_pg_01_by_markerguru.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvVD6N1fSeYqHrpg5zUwRb7dQlgZSSA6O3oGm0et_nhLXscc0h1fZsFVipACMasjeBqflcbJZp3dHYPTnBfOINvliXQXM8vR-AZDTcuvGzg_uE6gSE9EoRMpEOzwV-BedgGQh8eurymD8/s1600/arcee_colors_pg_01_by_markerguru.jpg" height="640" width="423" /></a></div>
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But that kind of damage isn't just restricted to the world around an autistic kid going through a meltdown.<br />
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It's can be internalized to wound the autistic kid right along with the rest of the world.<br />
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And it can be incredibly <i>isolating</i>, which isn't a good state to be in when a person is so wounded.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJq0yoqvqSW1pZN8PwXqotCtQiUBVVfD2Gc2YDtqk_dHE5o5gBLfRgPqrsZ-riJw1j1d8wmIJraoHtDGdy5uGajAxt-HJX_dHrV586-ECBbBJms3JAEqm8mmuKev0T1EjaJkImD0oLtKo/s1600/arceealone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJq0yoqvqSW1pZN8PwXqotCtQiUBVVfD2Gc2YDtqk_dHE5o5gBLfRgPqrsZ-riJw1j1d8wmIJraoHtDGdy5uGajAxt-HJX_dHrV586-ECBbBJms3JAEqm8mmuKev0T1EjaJkImD0oLtKo/s1600/arceealone.jpg" height="640" width="450" /></a></div>
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And so goes the cycle, so often for so many autistic kids.<br />
<br />
We find ourselves isolated and alone and, worst of all, lonely.<br />
<br />
We lose control over our lack of control. And so we rage at our condition - and at not being understood, at being seemingly-incapable of the most basic connections with other people; the scenario that has led us to this state of isolation. And, in raging, we melt down.<br />
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<br />
And then. when the meltdown is over, we find that we have wounded others ... and ourselves.<br />
<br />
And so we retreat from the source of our pain and the cause of their pain. We retreat from other people, and then ...<br />
<br />
... we find ourselves isolated and alone and, worst of all, lonely.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgHMY_bk6TrzNK0nB6C1pocC7dUlJyOYt85MczuLUAL8aODAeAJ74wDkSE3O3z7hMOpJdCfOTR7UWo34J1arf723x4xTXIT_Pi4_8X-YkgNQ5RJc3W-GudJaYYFqQdNphUuTZaoJ598dw/s1600/tumblr_m9p2pmVTqh1rripibo1_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgHMY_bk6TrzNK0nB6C1pocC7dUlJyOYt85MczuLUAL8aODAeAJ74wDkSE3O3z7hMOpJdCfOTR7UWo34J1arf723x4xTXIT_Pi4_8X-YkgNQ5RJc3W-GudJaYYFqQdNphUuTZaoJ598dw/s1600/tumblr_m9p2pmVTqh1rripibo1_500.gif" /></a></div>
<br />
And this is how it was for me. Because, back when I was a kid, there were many boys I knew and liked that I also "like-liked." And I was an absolute <i>mess </i>around the boys I "like-liked." <br />
<br />
Because, around them, I felt like they had all the control. And I didn't like how that felt. It felt like I was being squeezed to death.<br />
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I even recall thinking that had to be why they called it a "crush."<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFbzu4vb-HgA2NIXlyNoUrhPipMiS6qwqNmNpl73E9GJqRp5UqaEe5B-OQHWg1QT0I2nni8t-nU-iKh2ykgtSkO45VJ6h7691GYJiNGlf2H6pV1KDgloKoZMK8xCctmtpxsE_H0K1gxCw/s1600/grip.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFbzu4vb-HgA2NIXlyNoUrhPipMiS6qwqNmNpl73E9GJqRp5UqaEe5B-OQHWg1QT0I2nni8t-nU-iKh2ykgtSkO45VJ6h7691GYJiNGlf2H6pV1KDgloKoZMK8xCctmtpxsE_H0K1gxCw/s1600/grip.gif" /></a></div>
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But I still "like-liked" them - which also meant that I still wanted to be around them, even though it hurt.<br />
<br />
At the same time, though, they were <i>boys</i>. And I was a trans <i>girl</i>. <br />
<br />
And, in the bygone days of my primary school education in the 1970s and 1980s, it was an absolute fact for me that - for the most part - whatever the boys were interested in wasn't going to be the same as whatever it was that I liked at any given time.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5IXYsVBJ3jwS4QEVviTN3qHm4ekf-Gm1IKt5-XY9Qe0K21rta4jj9jdfDav1QM_mo5LdZy0LInhfHwbP-SnWZL1aGFeNXCdWxnlb3AldJ24f6_z_fUKv0aZN3JIEdlguWXfWDIHp6iYQ/s1600/il_fullxfull.429101513_2nkx+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5IXYsVBJ3jwS4QEVviTN3qHm4ekf-Gm1IKt5-XY9Qe0K21rta4jj9jdfDav1QM_mo5LdZy0LInhfHwbP-SnWZL1aGFeNXCdWxnlb3AldJ24f6_z_fUKv0aZN3JIEdlguWXfWDIHp6iYQ/s1600/il_fullxfull.429101513_2nkx+(1).jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
And, before you ask ... yes, in 1978, I really did carry a lunchbox - forth and back & to and from school every school day - that featured <i>The Magic of Lassie</i>.<br />
<br />
I'm sure you can imagine how that went over with the boys.<br />
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But I didn't and don't care, because Lassie rules.<br />
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But, as much as Lassie did and does rule, that didn't change the fact that I couldn't really engage the boys I "like-liked" in a discussion about how awesome it was when Lassie traveled across the country to get back to the Mitchell farm. <br />
<br />
There just wasn't any common frame of reference. They would look at me like I was speaking some kind of alien language - or, worse, try to beat me up for being "weird."<br />
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Certain words weren't part of my peers' vocabulary back in 1978. But they would be taught, and they would learn.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh46L_g6yQ5cN6uOwrN70giA6bjYk5KBG5mSNbcwnvH8MGaUmZpo8Dne-Op60rD_mxe_hBG4sGWliHZFHjrLMWQNHUbMG82DANNKeoVOLfA1AF5p3j57R25YpKrgc2Ob2ZDIeK0ghuUkVw/s1600/bundleofsticks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh46L_g6yQ5cN6uOwrN70giA6bjYk5KBG5mSNbcwnvH8MGaUmZpo8Dne-Op60rD_mxe_hBG4sGWliHZFHjrLMWQNHUbMG82DANNKeoVOLfA1AF5p3j57R25YpKrgc2Ob2ZDIeK0ghuUkVw/s1600/bundleofsticks.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
Nevertheless, I didn't lose <i>all</i> hope.<br />
<br />
Because there were still a <i>few</i> specific subject that I <i>could</i> relate to the boys about, and which I could count on every time to bridge the gaps in our communications.<br />
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And one of those subjects was the subject of <i>robots</i>.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ4hZRRjTysvMx_A7L47ZX4nDY4VM664njdON6JIAD_UT2v_JbXrd4V3GqW8xoWig5DVJsUl_JGsfWhdzPlbsZxdv-nDTHjLqhttIK2u0gTKRSnwlJrq0lwxZmmw2fBonfFAvhWKEGcIY/s1600/robo70s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ4hZRRjTysvMx_A7L47ZX4nDY4VM664njdON6JIAD_UT2v_JbXrd4V3GqW8xoWig5DVJsUl_JGsfWhdzPlbsZxdv-nDTHjLqhttIK2u0gTKRSnwlJrq0lwxZmmw2fBonfFAvhWKEGcIY/s1600/robo70s.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
<br />
See, I was a huge fan of a television show called <i>The Bionic Woman</i>.<br />
<br />
And Jaime Sommers was - and is - one of my all-time favorite fictional heroes. But that's another article for another day.<br />
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But it was from that show that I developed an interest in robots. Or ... more specifically ... Fembots.<br />
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<br />
The idea of Fembots had a tremendous impact on me, psychologically, when I first saw them on <i>The Bionic Woman</i>.<br />
<br />
Here were these strange creatures who were used for the purpose of covert reconnaissance and subterfuge, who had no free will to decide who they were or what they wanted to be, who were often wantonly destructive at the drop of a hat, who were always malfunctioning ...<br />
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... and who were <i>different on the inside than on the outside</i>.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9KeuNFTf9HJSD6YOB5ifO0LVqfx7A89H0Fe8Gi8QyKWCBvcmfQth0p0kSGg9eHu2LI216V_B9PfITqn7DGXby5aKujp1Q06YjyUSVM_-WIxV6vOeYK81XKUnLELclaYC_aJce5s_jjiM/s1600/fembotbackbox.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9KeuNFTf9HJSD6YOB5ifO0LVqfx7A89H0Fe8Gi8QyKWCBvcmfQth0p0kSGg9eHu2LI216V_B9PfITqn7DGXby5aKujp1Q06YjyUSVM_-WIxV6vOeYK81XKUnLELclaYC_aJce5s_jjiM/s1600/fembotbackbox.jpg" height="640" width="521" /></a></div>
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And these robots walked among humans, indistinguishable from them except to someone who knew to look out for them.</div>
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They were hidden amongst us all.</div>
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They were, in short, robots in disguise.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVqoo4KZPFS9ViebVc0MbNJUZU61OD3eroYtHgRb9XD_S4NioD84Uon-bd5OjFuJ0Uqmt-U3HIidhYvrbLyB_V3FfqtPXeCVLjjTHgG97mgcYsyM8pFxn5sjKca9ItjDX93cVErAwl_0Q/s1600/Arcee2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVqoo4KZPFS9ViebVc0MbNJUZU61OD3eroYtHgRb9XD_S4NioD84Uon-bd5OjFuJ0Uqmt-U3HIidhYvrbLyB_V3FfqtPXeCVLjjTHgG97mgcYsyM8pFxn5sjKca9ItjDX93cVErAwl_0Q/s1600/Arcee2.jpg" /></a></div>
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But in the case of the Fembots, it wasn't a disguise of their own making.</div>
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Because they had no free will to decide on how they wanted to live their lives, their experiences in the world were limited to whatever whim struck those who controlled them. And so they were forced to roam the Earth, looking like one thing while being another, incapable of empathizing with the humans around them, following the orders of their creators that forced them to disguise themselves to be something they're not.</div>
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So, uh, yeah, you might say I kind of understood that and related to it in my own special way.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTCctm7AzTRfndgBjOjgZ4YwmEZo5VItY5rswzcx4Md6yrz1uk20zO8klxMpmngkveZHSsLQalumrj_ahnjNNi39zqm5ug3AynmFx0dLNI9dF_sEBuJFGNVJQQY4cn3tg2oZA43vZHxak/s1600/princessage2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTCctm7AzTRfndgBjOjgZ4YwmEZo5VItY5rswzcx4Md6yrz1uk20zO8klxMpmngkveZHSsLQalumrj_ahnjNNi39zqm5ug3AynmFx0dLNI9dF_sEBuJFGNVJQQY4cn3tg2oZA43vZHxak/s1600/princessage2.jpg" /></a></div>
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Now, if you read my previous article, you know that at the exact moment this picture was being taken I was trying to invoke the presence of Kate Jackson.</div>
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And you also know that a single thought was echoing through my head:</div>
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<i style="background-color: #fafafa; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;">I'm the ugliest girl who's ever lived.</i></div>
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<i style="background-color: #fafafa; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.600000381469727px;"><br /></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMQn30_y3_0HhMI4Yng0pbCgyOxnW7WGkncBV5Df_VYYG9wKj42EPl6R6G3O7F63dh4SMALc5W3khjIViZ0-LCH-E1PWiHewl20Jzwm9Nx_Ue0fPvnGg2FU88FO8pTJDGt1XPlPM3iNns/s1600/16663.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMQn30_y3_0HhMI4Yng0pbCgyOxnW7WGkncBV5Df_VYYG9wKj42EPl6R6G3O7F63dh4SMALc5W3khjIViZ0-LCH-E1PWiHewl20Jzwm9Nx_Ue0fPvnGg2FU88FO8pTJDGt1XPlPM3iNns/s1600/16663.jpg" /></a></div>
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And so it went that I empathized with these robots. I felt like our positions were similar in how the world regarded us - that we were disregarded as strange, as dangerous, as unwanted and incapable of self-determination.</div>
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And so it went that, yes, I imbued the thoughtless Fembots, in my imagination, with their own identities and wishes that reflected my own. </div>
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I imagined them to be reluctant footsoldiers for the conquerors who used them on <i>The Bionic Woman</i> and <i>The Six-Million Dollar Man. </i>In my own adventures with my Jaime Sommers and Fembot dolls (each sold separately), I would often have Jaime befriend the Fembot after a fierce battle and help the Fembot gain autonomy and end up working for the OSS alongside Jaime and Steve - usually to beat the heck out of Maskatron, who was pretty much always a really serious dick.</div>
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And through this play, I engaged in self-care. I engaged in self-soothing. I healed myself, because nobody could see the root source of the wounds I was dealing with because I wouldn't tell anyone I was hurting.</div>
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And it helped ... a lot.</div>
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And, so, part of that self-care was sometimes playing pretend while going through my daily routine of real life that I wasn't just a girl, but a robot in disguise ...</div>
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But there was more to it than that.</div>
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In my game, I was, of course, a girl robot ...</div>
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.. but, more specifically, I was a girl robot who was also disguised as a boy.</div>
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Now, of course, I knew that I wasn't really a robot. I knew it was just make-believe - imagination and fantasy.</div>
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And I knew the difference between reality and fantasy from a <i>very</i> early age, which debunks the theories of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jean_Piaget" target="_blank">Jean Piaget </a>in much the same way the psychological and developmental sciences have debunked him.</div>
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But my imagination was serving a purpose.</div>
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And that purpose was that my imagination was serving as a protective buffer zone that stood between two separate and painful realities in my life, whether at-home while my parents were around or hanging out with the boys society told me I was supposed to hang out with in my off-time.</div>
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The robot fantasy was helping me bridge a very complicated gap between my very real brain and my equally-real XY chromosome. And it worked. And it helped me survive. And it helped me navigate the sometimes rough-and-tumble world of boys who saw me as a boy, albeit a weird boy who - despite his apparent softness - could give as good as he got when called upon to do so ... thanks to that whole wanton destruction thing. <br />
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Destruction, somehow, meant affection to boys. And I could be that kind of affectionate, too.</div>
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And a rough-and-tumble attitude was important. <br />
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But the element of disguise? That was more important.<br />
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Disguise, around boys, meant survival. It was a necessity, to my way of thinking, if I didn't want to end up being attacked from all sides.</div>
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And it was a disguise that carried its own weights and psychological prices, too. <br />
<br />
Hey, I never said it was a perfect solution. I was a kid.<br />
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One of those prices was that, in public and in-private when my parents were around, I had to try to throw off anyone who might detect me as a girl.<br />
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This was tough-going, the older I got. But it wasn't impossible.<br />
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And I still had lapses ...<br />
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... like the Christmas when I begged "Santa Claus" for the Strawberry Shortcake Berry Happy Home.<br />
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So, yeah, I had my moments of weakness with regard to allowing myself the luxury to enjoy things that were "meant for girls."<br />
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But I toughened myself and made changes as the years passed, maintaining this game of survival and this buffer zone of imaginary safety in my head. <br />
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There were no more Lassie lunchboxes. They were replaced with things that could maintain the disguise.<br />
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And, hey, lots of girls I knew liked scary stuff like monsters, too, right? And The Bride has always been awesome (but, again, that's another article for another day). But the disguise wasn't just about lunchboxes. It was about <i>everything</i>. <br />
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And, as a result, it got bigger ... and bigger ... and more and more unwieldy the further along in life I went. As I grew up, I continued to upgrade the disguise as I entered new surroundings. And the more I upgraded it, the heavier on me it got ... and the less I felt like myself.<br />
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Under the weight of the disguise, I felt trapped. I felt alone. I felt ... isolated.<br />
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And the longer it went, the more I missed and reflected upon what I'd lost in life:<br />
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Myself.<br />
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I'd done such a good job hiding who I was that I got to a point where I realized that the real me ... the one within the disguise ... was unknown to everyone <i>except</i> me.<br />
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I had left the disguise intact and let it grow over my lifetime, far too long to stay hidden ... even with air holes here and there.<br />
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And we talked about how bad things can get when an autistic person feels especially isolated.<br />
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So I lashed out at the world, in epic meltdown after epic meltdown. I lashed out at my parents, at people who said they cared about me, at my extended family, at co-workers, at strangers on the internet and on the street.<br />
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I behaved unfathomably poorly, because I was furiously unhappy and in terrible pain. <br />
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And, yes, I recognize that everything I did and said to be mean was entirely my own doing and entirely my own fault and is entirely my responsibility. I was filled with rage, and I expressed it poorly on the world.<br />
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And it's not enough, will never be enough for me to say I'm sorry for being a bitter and hateful person when I should have been helping the world to heal.<br />
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I can't ever take those unkind words back, nor can I fix hurt feelings.<br />
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But I can try to use the energy of what I've learned to encourage other people to find strength and confidence.<br />
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And I can use the perspective I've gained to educate and enlighten, if I may be so bold as to say so about my own work. <br />
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And, yeah, you know what? I <i>can </i>say that - because I <i>am</i> bold.<br />
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So there.<br />
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And part of writing this blog has also been to dismantle that disguise the best way I know how, by writing my history and explaining to the world who I am, and making myself vulnerable to other people along the way.<br />
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And, hopefully, I'm also educating and enlightening people who might be willing to read about imaginary robots but might never read anything about trans issues or trans people, who might not even be aware we exist. Or who might deny we exist. <br />
<br />
Because we are here, and we do exist. Hi. What' up?<br />
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And there are people out there who say that trans people aren't really trans, you know? They think we're just playing.<br />
<br />
There are people who claim that when we tell the world we're a "girl in a boy's body," or vice versa, that it's no different than if we claimed we were really dolphins or tigers ...<br />
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... or even robots.<br />
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And, to that, I say "How dare you?"<br />
<br />
How dare you accuse me of being so intellectually-deficient and juvenile that you think the battle I fight every day to be recognized for who and what I am is because I can't distinguish reality from fantasy?<br />
<br />
But, as someone who really was a girl in a boy's body, and who also pretended to be a robot, I'm here to tell you that there's a world of difference there, and one I hope I've started to illustrate. I've tried to show that identifying as a woman when your body's got an XY chromosome in there isn't just a matter of changing the font of your signature.<br />
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<br />
We're trans, yes, but we're trans people. Our lives are complex, we who were trans girls and who are now trans women - and that's true for trans men, too. <br />
<br />
We suffer, because all women on Earth suffer in one form or another. The suffering is worse for some, less so for others, but almost all women who live on Earth are oppressed in some form or another. But that oppression isn't always the kind that takes the same shape. For some, it's about patriarchy controlling the mind. For others, it's about patriarchy controlling the body. For still more, it's about patriarchy controlling complex systems in our culture - like how money is distributed, what's taught in schools, who gets to speak on a given platform.<br />
<br />
But it's all about control of who and what women are.<br />
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<br />
You know who's interested in restricting and controlling us, though?<br />
<br />
And you know who is out there interested in controlling who and what women are?<br />
<br />
The bad guys.<br />
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<br />
And that's patriarchy.<br />
<br />
And I, for one, don't intend on letting patriarchy win. No matter what disguise patriarchy is wearing. No matter what agents patriarchy sends to stop me.<br />
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And not even when patriarchy employs other women as its agents of destruction.<br />
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<br />
Because I'm a woman who isn't here to destroy.<br />
<br />
And it's not part of who I really am.<br />
<br />
Because who I really am is, as far as I'm concerned, a freedom-fighter for all kinds of women no matter who they are or where they are or what they look like. Because that's what freedom for women is all about. <br />
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<br />
And that's one of many reasons that I decided to write this piece - and to make it both about my own history, and also about my favorite hero who is also a robot in disguise, one of the Transformers.<br />
<br />
Her name is Arcee.<br />
<br />
And she is awesome.<br />
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<br />
Arcee is a character first introduced in the film <i><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0092106/" target="_blank">Transformers: The Movie,</a> </i>in 1986.<br />
<br />
Voiced by the inimitable <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0089454/?ref_=tt_cl_t5" target="_blank">Susan Blu</a>, Arcee represents the emotional core in the film's story of a rag-tag group of survivor Autobots facing a planet-devouring menace voiced by <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000080/?ref_=fn_al_nm_1" target="_blank">Orson Welles,</a> which is as good a metaphor of patriarchy as any other, in my humble opinion.<br />
<br />
And, for the movie, she helps pretty much kick metaphorical patriarchy's ass. Because that's how Arcee rolls.<br />
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<br />
Of course, I was already a fan of <i>The Transformers</i> by the time the TV show and toy line first appeared, so I'll admit an initial bias in loving the film.<br />
<br />
When the show started, though, the year was 1984. I was twelve years old. And I was getting <i>my</i> ass kicked - by puberty.<br />
<br />
But when I watched <i>The Transformers,</i> my love of robots actually gave me further commonality with boys.<br />
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<br />
And, yeah, I know the whole thing was an advertisement for toys - even (and especially) the movie, but who cares? <br />
<br />
They were incredibly fun.<br />
<br />
And they were something boys liked that I liked.<br />
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<br />
So, here was a funny kind of paradox.<br />
<br />
There I was ... a girl disguised as a boy pretending she's a robot - and here's a toy and cartoon show that arrives in the miserable throes of puberty, where my external body was doing everything it could to betray my core reality. And this was a time when almost nothing could make me happy. <br />
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But these robot characters and the toys upon which they were based ... well, they did.<br />
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<br />
Now, I'm not the only kid who will tell you that Optimus Prime was a surrogate dad for them.<br />
<br />
My own father was - and is - not an accepting man. He has spent his life denigrating who and what I am even as he claims he's proud of my so-called tangible achievements in terms of career and wealth. I am proud of those accomplishments, yes, but I'd rather he were proud of who I am.<br />
<br />
And Optimus Prime, big and fatherly and kind, was a character who nurtured a desperate need in me for the idealized father who would lay down everything to protect my rights and freedoms to be the person I was - and still am.<br />
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But I remember, even as I enjoyed the show and toys, that I wished there were a girl character with whom I could actually identify and connect.<br />
<br />
But that didn't happen until the movie.<br />
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And when it did, Arcee quickly became as big a hero to me as Optimus, if for entirely different reasons.<br />
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Because Arcee was different from a lot of the other Transformers characters, even beyond being of the more futuristic design of the original shows' latter years versus the rugged and earthly designs that preceded with the characters who came before her.<br />
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Arcee, you see, was more nuanced and complex.<br />
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At least, she was to me.<br />
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I think a lot of it was Susan Blu's voicework, but Arcee was always imbued with an emotional resonance to what she did and said that always hinted at a depth of character that the original TV show never really got around to exploring.<br />
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But it was there, thanks to Ms. Blu.<br />
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And I felt it, and it echoed through the hollows in my heart from my own life's struggles.<br />
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<br />
And that echo also had to do with the few facts we did know about Arcee.<br />
<br />
Like the fact that she was a dedicated soldier who had stayed behind to fight on Cybertron when Optimus Prime and Megatron took the battle between freedom-loving Autobots and totalitarian Decepticons to Earth.<br />
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And that spoke to my just-teenaged brain, reminding me of the women who stepped up to rebuild America during and after World War 2.<br />
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<br />
And we know Arcee took that job seriously.<br />
<br />
And fought it while Optimus and Megatron lay unconscious in their spaceships, having crashed on Earth.<br />
<br />
So, that war she was fighting back on Cybertron, awake and battling the forces of tyranny while the menfolk slept? She only fought it for, like, four million years. So, there's that.<br />
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<br />
Of course, that's only one continuity, though.<br />
<br />
There are others.<br />
<br />
There are a <i>lot</i> of others.<br />
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<br />
And those are just some of them ...<br />
<br />
... because, of course, these are characters based around the sale of toys ...<br />
<br />
... and they've sold a<i> lot </i>of toys.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPa7rljRAQKFw1_OEwpNLf8XnE9P8veDnr1Z3OYaP66Vsbg5OdByjQ4bzp9j9AYhTi1Ow4Y07og3y5MkSoYiu6KmzVRm-dnf_NQfTVZWFrF4yDu_jXwBxQ706OX4KkiAzklo61DmmI7uw/s1600/timehistory.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPa7rljRAQKFw1_OEwpNLf8XnE9P8veDnr1Z3OYaP66Vsbg5OdByjQ4bzp9j9AYhTi1Ow4Y07og3y5MkSoYiu6KmzVRm-dnf_NQfTVZWFrF4yDu_jXwBxQ706OX4KkiAzklo61DmmI7uw/s1600/timehistory.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
And, through her part in the saga of <i>The Transformers</i>, Arcee has gone through a lot of different continuities and changes, too.<br />
<br />
And, once again ...<br />
<br />
I mean a<i> lot</i>.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF72xCZSGFiHOBJewvD_8wsVw6gJDgs7z8CCqK2x6X2vs-gPnnTWcLngxm3eb5IR3Qdhc0u08uU5u73aiZbaw6xZpRS5KH63IsRQpd6D6l8q1dsQx3jsy1kbAaAiy3ax05tU-w1EYHc-8/s1600/250px-Animatedarcee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF72xCZSGFiHOBJewvD_8wsVw6gJDgs7z8CCqK2x6X2vs-gPnnTWcLngxm3eb5IR3Qdhc0u08uU5u73aiZbaw6xZpRS5KH63IsRQpd6D6l8q1dsQx3jsy1kbAaAiy3ax05tU-w1EYHc-8/s1600/250px-Animatedarcee.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
But in almost all the iterations, Arcee has been a faithful Autobot warrior woman who has done whatever she can to defend others and stand up for the cause of freedom ...<br />
<br />
... with one, uh ...<br />
<br />
... exception.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN27bkfaQlRMuP42wmXxjI9DLqsNPdrXbfcEKZEGyjCvu7U5oGx9PMXNSDMTjB_65LlvnTtvErOwIhcDBK_9dvSjtUFKPUCfhGys9id6Uo1k1bIit2g10vsXDseGTW_npMANmNd0x5Z1s/s1600/1394912428_arcee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN27bkfaQlRMuP42wmXxjI9DLqsNPdrXbfcEKZEGyjCvu7U5oGx9PMXNSDMTjB_65LlvnTtvErOwIhcDBK_9dvSjtUFKPUCfhGys9id6Uo1k1bIit2g10vsXDseGTW_npMANmNd0x5Z1s/s1600/1394912428_arcee.jpg" height="640" width="525" /></a></div>
<br />
And I mention that story here because I anticipate that a few people who are reading this piece and are familiar with Arcee might point toward Simon Furman's <i>Arcee Spotlight</i> comic book, and I want to address it in passing.<br />
<br />
If you'd like familiarity with the controversy surrounding this particular interpretation of Arcee, then I point you toward <a href="http://www.tfw2005.com/transformers-news/comics-16/mairghread-scott-comments-on-idw-windblade-comic-178990/" target="_blank">this</a> and <a href="http://simonfurman.wordpress.com/2013/12/29/response-to-mairghread-scott/" target="_blank">this</a>. <br />
<br />
As always, I'll wait.<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
Back? Great.<br />
<br />
Let's continue.<br />
<br />
So, basically, that's Simon Furman. And this is what he tried to make from "spotlighting" Arcee.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo-vQLemP1g7CLTOkeRnm26RcY9BxKjpBJgi5ssDLx8M8F0I2hyphenhyphenhBO8FkMYpTifC72SOMLMYJu__DeH5JiZxhilHyt2yKe0qIo9I8EkZaxGBzL9pRSOX8fLB-i7_GJTWM4YRcT0Rub758/s1600/arcee_cover_colors__by_markerguru.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo-vQLemP1g7CLTOkeRnm26RcY9BxKjpBJgi5ssDLx8M8F0I2hyphenhyphenhBO8FkMYpTifC72SOMLMYJu__DeH5JiZxhilHyt2yKe0qIo9I8EkZaxGBzL9pRSOX8fLB-i7_GJTWM4YRcT0Rub758/s1600/arcee_cover_colors__by_markerguru.jpg" height="640" width="424" /></a></div>
<br />
Regardless of the multitude of mistakes Furman makes in his logic about gender and sex and genetics and psychology, he's also clearly ignoring the core elements of the characters with which he's working, in a quest to transform Arcee from an emotional center to the Autobots into yet another cold-blooded extreme killing-machine. <br />
<br />
He's doing what writers did every other month in the 1990s, and I don't really want to dignify that one story with much more time.<br />
<br />
Fortunately, the story has been mostly disregarded as irrelevant and Arcee is recognized as a woman despite Furman's attempt to change Arcee into a trans man. It had to be addressed, so I have. Furman's wrong, and a bad writer.<br />
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<br />
Thanks for the confirmation on that, Arcee.<br />
<br />
And, really, it's just as silly as Michael Bay splitting Arcee into a trio of motorcycles for a not-quite-cameo scene in the opening of a Transformers film.<br />
<br />
It's pointless dehumanization of an established character for an unnecessary beat in an unnecessary story, and both are mainly mentioned here for the sake of addressing the myriad interpretations of Arcee throughout the years.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfCchyphenhyphenLSxqpFnZ41ArRpARi2qd6L4wPvPX9Hnnua5Bh4iBZBcbpAfbR8IfcmhadGGCDYpWumh4OZn9c13fV42XjOHg7uBew8wdOKxd9aKRkb1F2ZLZ7vwe1cSvK1dIgZIkJsR173Yq7Qc/s1600/arcee_sisters_by_eagc7-how-the-1980s-transformers-could-have-changed-everything.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfCchyphenhyphenLSxqpFnZ41ArRpARi2qd6L4wPvPX9Hnnua5Bh4iBZBcbpAfbR8IfcmhadGGCDYpWumh4OZn9c13fV42XjOHg7uBew8wdOKxd9aKRkb1F2ZLZ7vwe1cSvK1dIgZIkJsR173Yq7Qc/s1600/arcee_sisters_by_eagc7-how-the-1980s-transformers-could-have-changed-everything.jpeg" height="300" width="640" /></a></div>
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And I try to think about how the Arcee I adore would interpret these presentations of her character.<br />
<br />
She would, I like to think, simply laugh them off and walk away.<br />
<br />
Because that's how Arcee rolls.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjTxa2h5V5HLZeaY_eu6P_cFnJePKzHZMxUm0Kws8lER7I2vNeUIZB4WTyzkJ5e3E15LqnRvBtWVmrlMNcrzmo6YMgnGR0yu_UgSaOpaxmaC5oyuMYi4iJGGRo_YkAfUYXtDEhIykdmDM/s1600/tumblr_mb5e3qB4aG1rripibo1_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjTxa2h5V5HLZeaY_eu6P_cFnJePKzHZMxUm0Kws8lER7I2vNeUIZB4WTyzkJ5e3E15LqnRvBtWVmrlMNcrzmo6YMgnGR0yu_UgSaOpaxmaC5oyuMYi4iJGGRo_YkAfUYXtDEhIykdmDM/s1600/tumblr_mb5e3qB4aG1rripibo1_500.gif" /></a></div>
<br />
And that image brings me to my favorite representation of Arcee, which is to be found in the current incarnation of the Transformers series, called <a href="http://www.hubnetwork.com/shows/transformers-prime" target="_blank">Transformers Prime</a>.<br />
<br />
I've included images of this version of Arcee throughout the piece, because I think this series is the one that most gets to the heart of what I love about the character:<br />
<br />
The beauty of her natural humanity in relation to the world around her.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ_ZFE2uIlJ0DIXmCVMPlVkI5Nu2YE4nEeMOStADK6Xkt22z5UgJXuyedOe1TxWzAwvRIr2eW6vgvTMWOsTEMKM6ckGD2ojTmNZ2b2TEzZNb0f96gPZZW9JxLg_HDFmWqL6pOyxTsZKME/s1600/arcee__by_raikoh14-d35o5sj.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ_ZFE2uIlJ0DIXmCVMPlVkI5Nu2YE4nEeMOStADK6Xkt22z5UgJXuyedOe1TxWzAwvRIr2eW6vgvTMWOsTEMKM6ckGD2ojTmNZ2b2TEzZNb0f96gPZZW9JxLg_HDFmWqL6pOyxTsZKME/s1600/arcee__by_raikoh14-d35o5sj.png" height="344" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Because the Arcee portrayed in<i> Transformers Prime</i> is written with a depth and complexity not seen since the character first appeared. It re-establishes the nuance I talked about earlier, but this time the writing is working alongside a very talented voice actor in <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0599019/?ref_=tt_cl_t2" target="_blank">Sumalee Montano</a> - and the effect is beautiful to hear and see.<br />
<br />
In <i>Transformers Prime</i>, Ms. Montano has some great stories featuring Arcee at their center in which to draw that emotional resonance.<br />
<br />
They're crafting the character of a robot, but the writers and animators and Ms. Montano all work together to wrest real human emotion from that living machine.<br />
<br />
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<br />
But, ultimately, it's Arcee's longevity and dedication as a character that resonate with me the most.<br />
<br />
Whether she's fighting a war on Cybertron or Earth, she never surrenders.<br />
<br />
And she always finds a way.<br />
<br />
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<br />
She doesn't quit, even over the long haul, and exhibits incredible patience that I wish I had.<br />
<br />
I strive to have such patience.<br />
<br />
And I see it as something to look up to.<br />
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<br />
And, yes, Arcee has made mistakes in her life, but she doesn't let them define her - something I need to learn about in my own life.<br />
<br />
Because I'm horribly impatient.<br />
<br />
And it's that impatience that keeps me from having Arcee's steady hand when it comes to her aims.<br />
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<br />
And Arcee is OK with herself, no matter what shape she's in ...<br />
<br />
... or how she changes.<br />
<br />
Or how she's changed.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS6nR03d9KGfySiO30GN4rVNt1zH1PYf5w3Z6Ok3lz6zdh95fl7SZ3uosQ_-ljAmNUkokirfC-P9fcZMYy-0LW_Jbcb2byN6g2OhUz0_D5aOuuZzDwIj-vCEkpzjVweBNSpqWd-F-CAkU/s1600/0282-nycc-transformers-prime-arcee2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS6nR03d9KGfySiO30GN4rVNt1zH1PYf5w3Z6Ok3lz6zdh95fl7SZ3uosQ_-ljAmNUkokirfC-P9fcZMYy-0LW_Jbcb2byN6g2OhUz0_D5aOuuZzDwIj-vCEkpzjVweBNSpqWd-F-CAkU/s1600/0282-nycc-transformers-prime-arcee2.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
<br />
And she maintains her good nature and keeps her emotional core intact no matter what the universe does to her ...<br />
<br />
... or takes from her ...<br />
<br />
... or demands of her.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhjuwOr4Q3OwwPu0P2ChyphenhyphenbJjVjoHW2AstZS9zwYvgEZyVMf3NjO9pb9DHOy8Lt16-wAzhhPAu0wNeQF4yO1_eadESRwnbF14qWyiMGJNFyeU3r4_nWzprKL2HOlAwZ4BUKzxi7vvD3etw/s1600/Arcee_with_Omega_Key_and_Apex_Armor.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhjuwOr4Q3OwwPu0P2ChyphenhyphenbJjVjoHW2AstZS9zwYvgEZyVMf3NjO9pb9DHOy8Lt16-wAzhhPAu0wNeQF4yO1_eadESRwnbF14qWyiMGJNFyeU3r4_nWzprKL2HOlAwZ4BUKzxi7vvD3etw/s1600/Arcee_with_Omega_Key_and_Apex_Armor.jpeg" /></a></div>
<br />
But she doesn't sacrifice her humanity to do so.<br />
<br />
Instead, she wraps herself up in her humanity and uses it to inform who and what she is.<br />
<br />
And, when she does this, she can face forward, unafraid.<br />
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<br />
And she recognizes that change will come.<br />
<br />
And she is willing, sometimes, to let the universe change her and guide her destiny.<br />
<br />
But she's also ready to make use of those changes to arm and better herself ...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH5sidPnODASQyClx7BW3FRaFJ0CS2L7XA7s0pndzONrC1C_NpbrUsTIN8v_Ycpar642mujNDjmZUepA5I1ojic7_GxJNOT_F3oJBsnZ3XntDJCqIe6vP_lPKnjWfUhU9Ug-JnlEZfQWo/s1600/300px-Animatedtoy-Arcee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH5sidPnODASQyClx7BW3FRaFJ0CS2L7XA7s0pndzONrC1C_NpbrUsTIN8v_Ycpar642mujNDjmZUepA5I1ojic7_GxJNOT_F3oJBsnZ3XntDJCqIe6vP_lPKnjWfUhU9Ug-JnlEZfQWo/s1600/300px-Animatedtoy-Arcee.jpg" /></a></div>
... even when those changes come fast ...<br />
<br />
... or seem to contradict the past ...<br />
<br />
... or make her suddenly, at first at least, unrecognizable to those who knew her in the past.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5FCfkrrGa1_J76AVCzX6dcXqgLbyQWy83RJrMCmvPe-3xOFDxNU-oMgAkzLoAMFVxci6qeycJEhWN2ebWiV8ocovLnJ548xiyW6HOmruk2Ur6kgGNFTMscARJVCv3wJD07xGOXmb8N58/s1600/300px-Prime-toy_ArceeTakTomDx.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5FCfkrrGa1_J76AVCzX6dcXqgLbyQWy83RJrMCmvPe-3xOFDxNU-oMgAkzLoAMFVxci6qeycJEhWN2ebWiV8ocovLnJ548xiyW6HOmruk2Ur6kgGNFTMscARJVCv3wJD07xGOXmb8N58/s1600/300px-Prime-toy_ArceeTakTomDx.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
But, most of all, to me, Arcee represents a character who is who and what she is, just like I try to be in my own life.<br />
<br />
And she doesn't let other people make that decision for her.<br />
<br />
When portrayed best, she is someone who demands to be seen not by her exterior appearance, but by her interior self, which remains constant in its faithfulness and loyalty and identity - no matter what she looks like on any given day. At the end of it all, Arcee is Arcee, every time.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl5Gl5pQKmmE_PKZ1-CGhVKesjHmlBOIjYmBwdJD-VuangsCZSlS-SMQjumiCmulLSFJ5UKDdeB0dQ1UKtTIOe_Z8JbQPKJk81kQ8z6hT6du-0ZtlIQ2YlfD_odIYBMEioV_AxrvKY3_w/s1600/arcee___transformers_prime_by_chibiboto-d7cfppr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl5Gl5pQKmmE_PKZ1-CGhVKesjHmlBOIjYmBwdJD-VuangsCZSlS-SMQjumiCmulLSFJ5UKDdeB0dQ1UKtTIOe_Z8JbQPKJk81kQ8z6hT6du-0ZtlIQ2YlfD_odIYBMEioV_AxrvKY3_w/s1600/arcee___transformers_prime_by_chibiboto-d7cfppr.jpg" height="512" width="640" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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And, as a trans woman, I recognize Arcee's need to be seen and respected that way as a fight I have to endure every day, and will have to endure for a lifespan that won't last 4 million years, but which will last as long as it lasts with a battle that will be fought as long as it's fought.<br />
<br />
Because there will always be people denying my existence and identity.<br />
<br />
And there will always be people who try to force me to color inside their lines.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuo7ERgFMW7c3VjAHDZNJursq5wSbm7JeWSYoxP-FnGYpXeJo3ljngLlxUyJlksJAxDgck_PDNz5OaGG3jdpxpojzLSO1FKm5fXrZ-O9vy3g_1gYLUT_cxv_ql-crgsctfK0bL5_3WGa4/s1600/arcee__tfp__by_fleetonic-d7bpiut.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuo7ERgFMW7c3VjAHDZNJursq5wSbm7JeWSYoxP-FnGYpXeJo3ljngLlxUyJlksJAxDgck_PDNz5OaGG3jdpxpojzLSO1FKm5fXrZ-O9vy3g_1gYLUT_cxv_ql-crgsctfK0bL5_3WGa4/s1600/arcee__tfp__by_fleetonic-d7bpiut.png" height="640" width="506" /></a></div>
<br />
And there will always be people who tell me I look too pink for them, or too blue for them, or tell me that those colors matter, or tell me that those colors don't matter.<br />
<br />
And you know what?<br />
<br />
When I think about Arcee, I realize that my message back to those people is in how I survive in spite of them no matter how I look in their eyes.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA7n7XVN2dRGuW264a1MKhh32vhakp2d0EMfjHY-EgEbQcqLx7fg6MOPH_UI1pzHH7OebD19Ka3aq1X33UFOBfCnPVKeEyKesNYWEM-p_sl5nuhv9Uq4NuHP_VIw6BkFBNwj_zQL_fzHk/s1600/transformers_prime__arcee_prime_by_mystic2760-d5d5e02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA7n7XVN2dRGuW264a1MKhh32vhakp2d0EMfjHY-EgEbQcqLx7fg6MOPH_UI1pzHH7OebD19Ka3aq1X33UFOBfCnPVKeEyKesNYWEM-p_sl5nuhv9Uq4NuHP_VIw6BkFBNwj_zQL_fzHk/s1600/transformers_prime__arcee_prime_by_mystic2760-d5d5e02.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
Because their eyes don't matter to me.<br />
<br />
You know whose eyes matter to me?<br />
<br />
Mine.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijvwt06Y-0TMFYvPWDW4cE7D_YfVFEFH8j8Wv7VN9PAoHCuSxleLeIDgs3VWk8VmfVQ33uBUzSRCNkRXqJKIHZWBhLt6_fLR6W-hiJGvXw7uDhTt0w4ZIDljWnNDXXUdwT8Rbn9SmZSp0/s1600/tumblr_mv4kufttJZ1s4buj1o2_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijvwt06Y-0TMFYvPWDW4cE7D_YfVFEFH8j8Wv7VN9PAoHCuSxleLeIDgs3VWk8VmfVQ33uBUzSRCNkRXqJKIHZWBhLt6_fLR6W-hiJGvXw7uDhTt0w4ZIDljWnNDXXUdwT8Rbn9SmZSp0/s1600/tumblr_mv4kufttJZ1s4buj1o2_1280.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
And I get that there will be people who say I'm not a woman ...<br />
<br />
... that I'm not uterus-y enough.<br />
<br />
Or XX-y enough.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDaDGCWFkdCM__nc_ElSapfva-sdcbrO13Q_VQWNtX-PeDMgvsaXqqpLBV_fgeA7-Kzw8cZtJkgYhv_rmbm7BjVE8ZXkBnDlDHQu02Ym3hB8RJRKW2yVA6u3vXIDBj6LEnv7I7u6PzuNc/s1600/arcee___animated_by_skyline19-d35opy3.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDaDGCWFkdCM__nc_ElSapfva-sdcbrO13Q_VQWNtX-PeDMgvsaXqqpLBV_fgeA7-Kzw8cZtJkgYhv_rmbm7BjVE8ZXkBnDlDHQu02Ym3hB8RJRKW2yVA6u3vXIDBj6LEnv7I7u6PzuNc/s1600/arcee___animated_by_skyline19-d35opy3.png" height="640" width="464" /></a></div>
<br />
And I need to be confident in who and what I am no matter what those people say.<br />
<br />
I need to recognize that being a woman means so much more than just a chromosome ...<br />
<br />
... and that it's patriarchy that builds so many societal expectations - almost all false - of what a woman needs to be or to have to be "real."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt7RhU_B7sBhQFa6qTC-Lc9WQxV6y8JAAYu-KjJo8A87lPLveWwo6CZAb3RBfEbJYM1-eDsGKn2eR17D_xAWuaWVB-IDPtmHdkbwv3ZOJsvV8KQjg3bDgLYya3Q9D9O1GWlCGmwKi35mQ/s1600/arcee_by_baumanji-d2b61w6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt7RhU_B7sBhQFa6qTC-Lc9WQxV6y8JAAYu-KjJo8A87lPLveWwo6CZAb3RBfEbJYM1-eDsGKn2eR17D_xAWuaWVB-IDPtmHdkbwv3ZOJsvV8KQjg3bDgLYya3Q9D9O1GWlCGmwKi35mQ/s1600/arcee_by_baumanji-d2b61w6.jpg" height="640" width="482" /></a></div>
<br />
I am me.<br />
<br />
I am a trans woman.<br />
<br />
And that means I'm a woman.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivvXEm7ILalxJbMwzLAvnTjpGXp6i6QWwvIEa0LktZbHZmjIbWQ0D5ei_nyHGa9zrsUmHpXSIryGJgvExpWrjKuLvJKRSa5gFZR3yLnWp5Rw2xXmaj9JkM5i9okW-92w_nkYpUEeqSAm0/s1600/1279798387_arcee-003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivvXEm7ILalxJbMwzLAvnTjpGXp6i6QWwvIEa0LktZbHZmjIbWQ0D5ei_nyHGa9zrsUmHpXSIryGJgvExpWrjKuLvJKRSa5gFZR3yLnWp5Rw2xXmaj9JkM5i9okW-92w_nkYpUEeqSAm0/s1600/1279798387_arcee-003.jpg" height="640" width="512" /></a></div>
<br />
And I'm not saying I'm a woman because of my rack, or lack thereof.<br />
<br />
And I'm not saying I'm a woman because I'm playing pretend.<br />
<br />
And I'm not saying I'm a woman because I'm into weird kinks.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwciVXFlB_VHDt0zL1wEAZibL8ecxbVb06_C435xul-Hignqnt8RhVBGMkCFnq9InlFP8ZcJgdGYE-8FPeAKpvi5DJ6QDhaJ3KH-6RWSvuNfNCq__JHJriyLpixLvWRtufnQRUPJbqe9k/s1600/arcee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwciVXFlB_VHDt0zL1wEAZibL8ecxbVb06_C435xul-Hignqnt8RhVBGMkCFnq9InlFP8ZcJgdGYE-8FPeAKpvi5DJ6QDhaJ3KH-6RWSvuNfNCq__JHJriyLpixLvWRtufnQRUPJbqe9k/s1600/arcee.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
And I'm not saying I'm a woman because I wish I was.<br />
<br />
And I'm not saying I'm a woman because I'm confused.<br />
<br />
And I'm not saying I'm a woman because I'm trying to steal attention for myself or be all flashy.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio_KES2tH2DUhyn03RQphJ-6Ya4L8lxbM7bms45X0OUEhechfPmUk9rO4kudVVbPkJlueeQwIYCTmG2g8JNMNC-a3VIGrBQiBytppJky0RDCZ2F5oT0Ip16dvatsQy5-7wFEKb_gHaryQ/s1600/tumblr_m8fz73hjgn1rr8hfs.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio_KES2tH2DUhyn03RQphJ-6Ya4L8lxbM7bms45X0OUEhechfPmUk9rO4kudVVbPkJlueeQwIYCTmG2g8JNMNC-a3VIGrBQiBytppJky0RDCZ2F5oT0Ip16dvatsQy5-7wFEKb_gHaryQ/s1600/tumblr_m8fz73hjgn1rr8hfs.gif" /></a></div>
<br />
And I'm not saying I'm a woman because I'm doing some secret psychology project.<br />
<br />
And I'm not saying I'm a woman because I'm trying to get perks.<br />
<br />
And I'm not saying I'm a woman because I'm looking to hurt people.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7zn5OWqeyXzobmEc4wTRUBT3yo58N4zcjfS8kGbg8K4X_tmZsc_SUym5m7SvozW4Cb9PjG-KFSsjZXv5FfFwVbnBa2aXtEz7tQCjzaJCh9quaYmFZo5X35SlTinLBN6mHSO0VCs0rdd0/s1600/tumblr_lrjo20AdQg1r18bi7o4_400.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7zn5OWqeyXzobmEc4wTRUBT3yo58N4zcjfS8kGbg8K4X_tmZsc_SUym5m7SvozW4Cb9PjG-KFSsjZXv5FfFwVbnBa2aXtEz7tQCjzaJCh9quaYmFZo5X35SlTinLBN6mHSO0VCs0rdd0/s1600/tumblr_lrjo20AdQg1r18bi7o4_400.gif" /></a></div>
<br />
And I'm not saying I'm a woman because I'm deluded.<br />
<br />
And I'm not saying I'm a woman because I'm sick.<br />
<br />
And I'm not saying a woman because I'm just looking for something to do.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitXU8BeEZ4K1d-T6cJKhtnEY-8lFuTjQwpwqs9xrYI-hWIpvSYhvV1iR6QcmE81qbKFekav4ULpDqVZuTk3KpJTKFl_TuR9W-GKvugugQDNPxLRfHHSJ402W4UsRInML6_cK2Jp8LNZu0/s1600/tfa__arcee_by_virume-d5aujfw.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitXU8BeEZ4K1d-T6cJKhtnEY-8lFuTjQwpwqs9xrYI-hWIpvSYhvV1iR6QcmE81qbKFekav4ULpDqVZuTk3KpJTKFl_TuR9W-GKvugugQDNPxLRfHHSJ402W4UsRInML6_cK2Jp8LNZu0/s1600/tfa__arcee_by_virume-d5aujfw.jpg" height="640" width="610" /></a></div>
<br />
I'm not lying.<br />
<br />
I'm not jealous.<br />
<br />
I'm not weak.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid0FicjhuozolnKaoFDLZ6vykbR9ZF9dyzagcbab0xK9awfjUnwWQxcPAHor-EIabb4zmpy03AnICLdnQWLRC3XS7ROqvj97JzmjbO35OTvK6iH9sdW2KCHbz9zmGvokKz53GnnQ9Cnm0/s1600/st8.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid0FicjhuozolnKaoFDLZ6vykbR9ZF9dyzagcbab0xK9awfjUnwWQxcPAHor-EIabb4zmpy03AnICLdnQWLRC3XS7ROqvj97JzmjbO35OTvK6iH9sdW2KCHbz9zmGvokKz53GnnQ9Cnm0/s1600/st8.gif" /></a></div>
<br />
I'm not nihilistic.<br />
<br />
I'm not patriarchal.<br />
<br />
I'm not spoiling for a fight.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-AZ_rOxAkwOGpm1FEIiB__uCnAU1Rf3L7JZwwKrz8bbHOFmPEJX2IavsELE3gc96fL204O5Qkio6e9sO6Ow8hWAUiUapKrtt2-a3sm59DyCOpLEZGBub8IjbkrO-BNB95tb5Wg0GEZ5c/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-AZ_rOxAkwOGpm1FEIiB__uCnAU1Rf3L7JZwwKrz8bbHOFmPEJX2IavsELE3gc96fL204O5Qkio6e9sO6Ow8hWAUiUapKrtt2-a3sm59DyCOpLEZGBub8IjbkrO-BNB95tb5Wg0GEZ5c/s1600/images.jpeg" /></a></div>
<br />
I'm not trying to make a scene.<br />
<br />
I'm not trying to make a stink.<br />
<br />
I'm not looking to increase my online presence.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSFExkxSW2TJerKPhNxMNIOHQlYiMcbrYIdmoO0ywre0Uf0DiTq0XO29_0_pkWAHqbH1TepXeXPLA-nUyNFzhmT6xIYFuhOJlHxip6xivl8nh6pw02fRiYbTRuyMg7ozLawh12AEJiMoE/s1600/Oh+look+a+Troll+Arcee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSFExkxSW2TJerKPhNxMNIOHQlYiMcbrYIdmoO0ywre0Uf0DiTq0XO29_0_pkWAHqbH1TepXeXPLA-nUyNFzhmT6xIYFuhOJlHxip6xivl8nh6pw02fRiYbTRuyMg7ozLawh12AEJiMoE/s1600/Oh+look+a+Troll+Arcee.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
I'm a woman because I was born one. It's you, world, who didn't notice. But, now you see me as I really am.<br />
<br />
And you can see me because, after what's felt like 4 million years -<br />
<br />
- I finally took off the disguise.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMOCK7uEccxldGIar0BbTXd2eLyBwu0l6eQtuGfX3AEfy9SRcrlzKCr41AEdtD-FHQ69sYKS9DUIlYzrGrlFInoAhlSE4xnr0ose4Up8AMcmeVQ9hRsq_Y1DHsve_siDXMZQ7bD-A0o3o/s1600/WFCArcee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMOCK7uEccxldGIar0BbTXd2eLyBwu0l6eQtuGfX3AEfy9SRcrlzKCr41AEdtD-FHQ69sYKS9DUIlYzrGrlFInoAhlSE4xnr0ose4Up8AMcmeVQ9hRsq_Y1DHsve_siDXMZQ7bD-A0o3o/s1600/WFCArcee.jpg" /></a></div>
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Dee Emm Elmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14053652749413575579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1555007489284044452.post-17056294005978574962014-08-03T08:12:00.000-07:002014-08-03T13:41:23.395-07:00"The circles under your eyes - how lovely you look today!" (Lily Munster)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj92svHA5GophTDOBw8zxRbIiAlxwXy-E668TzoACjWN_lGbUi6TstiIHaAfd81Zp6b5AOvbgbNH99HCAF-lX813RWWOYTpVG_3TPEEwqrAVvmcf4zozoUpNdz4DKTspQ-b72TYloxwi3Q/s1600/munsters-lily_edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj92svHA5GophTDOBw8zxRbIiAlxwXy-E668TzoACjWN_lGbUi6TstiIHaAfd81Zp6b5AOvbgbNH99HCAF-lX813RWWOYTpVG_3TPEEwqrAVvmcf4zozoUpNdz4DKTspQ-b72TYloxwi3Q/s1600/munsters-lily_edit.jpg" /></a></div>
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I'll say it straight out - I have issues with the concept of beauty ... and how that concept relates (or doesn't relate) to my own self-image.</div>
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It's very hard for me to think of myself as beautiful.</div>
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In fact, it's almost always impossible for me to think that way. And, to that end -</div>
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The picture above is a selfie I took the day I started writing this. It pains me to even think of putting it here on this blog. But I know it shouldn't pain me, is the thing. So I put it up just now.</div>
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So, yeah, it's hard for me to look at either of those pictures.</div>
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But I did it ... even though what I sometimes see when I look at pictures of myself may not necessarily be the factual information.</div>
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And when I look at myself, all I see are problems. I see my face and body as hopelessly fat. I see my skin as ruddy and flawed. I see my eyes as the wrong size and shape. I see my nose as too big. I see my hair as looking more like a cheap doll's than a person's. I see my cheeks as too wide, my ears as too misshapen, my chin as too broad, my eyelids too heavy, my eyebrows too errant, my teeth too crooked, and on and on and on and on ... forever, really.</div>
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And - here's the other thing. This is me, now with an IMPROVED self-image.</div>
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When I was a kid ... it was a lot worse.</div>
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In the top picture there, I'm smiling because I'm meeting one of my heroes ... Laurette Spang, who played Cassiopeia on the original <i>Battlestar Galactica</i> TV show. Cassiopeia, you see, was my childhood idea how I wanted to look and to be. To me, she was nothing less than a space princess. </div>
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In the bottom picture, I'm affecting a pose ... from the poster above me.</div>
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I'm trying to look like Kate Jackson.</div>
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But if you look really closely at the picture, you might be able to detect that there are other things going on in my head aside from pretending I'm one of Charlie's Angels. And, possibly because of my autism, I'm able to recall that day with perfect clarity. </div>
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In fact, I'm able to think back to precisely what I was saying to myself inside my own head as this photograph was taken:</div>
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<i>I'm the ugliest girl who's ever lived.</i></div>
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And that was always accompanied by another thought.<br />
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It was a kindred sentiment:<br />
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<i>I'm the </i>worst<i> girl who's ever lived</i>.<br />
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I often felt like a failure because of these thoughts and the realities I perceived that made me think that way.<br />
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I almost always felt like a mistake of nature.<br />
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In other words, I felt like a monster.<br />
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So, yeah, you could say it wasn't the happiest of childhoods.<br />
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But it was <i>my</i> childhood, and even as a kid I understood to value and cherish what I did have instead of<i> just </i>being sad about what my life hadn't given me.<br />
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And I tried to be grateful.<br />
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I had a lot of things in my life to be grateful for, too - even if I wasn't always brimming over with gratitude. <br />
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I had reasonable health. I had enough food not to be starving.<br />
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And I had a family, which meant I wasn't alone in the world, no matter how much I sometimes wished or felt like I was.<br />
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And, as people who have read my blog well know, I had my heroes. <br />
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In fact, I had the good fortune to have a<i> lot </i>of heroes.<br />
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And, as it happened, some of those heroes were <i>also</i> monsters.<br />
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More specifically, one of those heroes was a Munster. Lily Munster, to be exact.<br />
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Because, you see, when I watched Lily on <i>The Munsters</i>, I felt different than I usually did while those brief half-hour episodes were on TV.<br />
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When I watched Lily ... I felt beautiful, too.<br />
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But, just so there's no misunderstanding ... it wasn't a beauty by comparison.<br />
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I didn't feel more beautiful because Lily was a monster and therefore somehow wasn't beautiful. In fact, I thought and think that Lily was and always will be gorgeous. <br />
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I mean, she<i> is </i>a vampire, after all.<br />
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But her being a vampire wasn't what made her so heroic to me.<br />
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It actually didn't have so much to do with her actual physical appearance at all, really, pretty as she is.<br />
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Rather, it has always had to do with Lily's attitude.<br />
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Lily knows who and what she is.<br />
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And she's deeply proud of who and what she is.<br />
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In fact, you might even say she wears her nature on her sleeve.<br />
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And much of the humor that has made <i>The Munsters</i> a favorite of children and adults for generations now is based around that very virtuous pride that Lily and her family all possess, no matter what civil society thinks of them.<br />
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Because virtuous pride is beautiful. And virtuous pride is a truly timeless trait, and always makes any woman that much more beautiful than they already are.<br />
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And that virtuous pride extends beyond herself, to her culture - to her history - and, most critically to me, to her family.<br />
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And that kind of pride, given freely to others, helps them to feel proud about who they are, too.<br />
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And it extended to me.<br />
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Because, when those half-hour shows played, I could forget the emotional abandonment and violent condemnation I received from my own family, and see a family that wasn't just proud to be themselves but also was proud to be with each other, no matter what they were doing.<br />
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And, yes, they were all monsters, in their own way ... but that didn't matter when they were together, because of that beautiful pride.<br />
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And when that kind of pride is portrayed correctly, it's positively infectious ... even to the audience at home, who may or may not be monsters.<br />
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And when Lily is portrayed correctly, that prideful beauty just permeates the character, comes through in everything about who Lily is as a person - above and beyond her nature as a monster, above and beyond her nature as a creature of haunted houses and snakes and spiderwebs.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQXqJP625TG4qHZB-hJebZhL6KWsid6RLn-s0jvuANYF6XN5FljEON_xHBhawKLeuJp08h3G4xaPSOaD-9OR9e29BYatPwQqHoNbf3fypMmGxaMyU2xRtd4hvgNLTDHm_iHYBG-Xj6c24/s1600/munsters-lily_610.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQXqJP625TG4qHZB-hJebZhL6KWsid6RLn-s0jvuANYF6XN5FljEON_xHBhawKLeuJp08h3G4xaPSOaD-9OR9e29BYatPwQqHoNbf3fypMmGxaMyU2xRtd4hvgNLTDHm_iHYBG-Xj6c24/s1600/munsters-lily_610.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And while it's true that Lily has been played by some extraordinarily-beautiful women, I also think that it's that pride that has given the character her true longevity in the real world. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Because she's one vampire who has truly stood the test of time by means that extend well beyond a diet of plasma.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In fact, Lily Munster has been around for decades and has become a fixture of American popular culture, making her as immortal in the real world as she is on Mockingbird Lane.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLOCk2S9hUqoMhwNQFhM3PH9LYmgUbLlDxANd6A6aeFOtt9ED_fg43fWbmL2rywWb_90FnvM5Cgz81UjLHmJdkg9oi7EIFzMFF9irjms4LpRH2WQ451PX3jJQ-Iq4GW06lPdG4Qk_gu5w/s1600/SPREETY_MAIN_MockingbirdLane.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLOCk2S9hUqoMhwNQFhM3PH9LYmgUbLlDxANd6A6aeFOtt9ED_fg43fWbmL2rywWb_90FnvM5Cgz81UjLHmJdkg9oi7EIFzMFF9irjms4LpRH2WQ451PX3jJQ-Iq4GW06lPdG4Qk_gu5w/s1600/SPREETY_MAIN_MockingbirdLane.gif" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And she has transcended the medium of her televised origins, appearing in animated specials and films and comics and video games and spin-offs and reimaginings and all manner of wearable and/or displayable merchandise. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And I think she will continue to do so.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And I think that will be true no matter who plays her or what the medium is in which she appears.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg33C7mFscA1vv07iwqGSB8yG3AnxpWv0Qid6o-chwwArNZ8wQCg-ZrL4Ip9D5NnTq1YKGrALeAzloZUWnKsFi68YxfFcWcg6MSwdtQmjDNrGSFL8NQu5kAP3mKZg9xKRFUempjOZH7dPA/s1600/markymunster36.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg33C7mFscA1vv07iwqGSB8yG3AnxpWv0Qid6o-chwwArNZ8wQCg-ZrL4Ip9D5NnTq1YKGrALeAzloZUWnKsFi68YxfFcWcg6MSwdtQmjDNrGSFL8NQu5kAP3mKZg9xKRFUempjOZH7dPA/s1600/markymunster36.jpg" height="436" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And while not all variations have had the same longevity as the original, I don't think that means we should respect them less - because they've all contributed to making the character who she is today, and that refusal of the character to go quietly into the realm of obscurity - means that, to my way of thinking, the pride I'm describing that makes Lily so appealing doesn't just resonate with me.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I think it resonates with anyone who, at any time, has felt like a monster - and who has learned to be proud of the fact that they are, to everyday society, a monster.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Because Lily isn't just proud in spite of who and what she is. Rather, she <i>loves</i> who and what she is, and clearly thinks that anyone who disagrees with her can go to somewhere far less pleasant than Hell.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVRImL7PsjJRXmkThnbnk8CX8SM8l19Ms5kq7UzfR-Y9v8lIwQzEzMmk0Bv7NexwQVhl1MARBducn2vmM03trDImigMAX-s7060Iy-9F1486K2uLS2yTw0SxEeiWY5V4zryPrrN9ox9Vw/s1600/lily2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVRImL7PsjJRXmkThnbnk8CX8SM8l19Ms5kq7UzfR-Y9v8lIwQzEzMmk0Bv7NexwQVhl1MARBducn2vmM03trDImigMAX-s7060Iy-9F1486K2uLS2yTw0SxEeiWY5V4zryPrrN9ox9Vw/s1600/lily2.jpg" height="640" width="474" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And that's another part of what makes her a hero to me.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
She revels in her monstrosity. And celebrates it.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Because she has the capacity to see beauty where others might only see ugliness.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJNJJzMZ_fZv3cZnwM-kTudu1af2R5T-mSmP56Cxn4akICfyipC77ZNzCwijTuRJR1lRgTrEkVcYW0Df6hQ53T49aSQhZ5jA9hqysYMjiNI0lIOg4f1yYRtks7fd4L3xQ2L5YdxOQQ1i0/s1600/article-0-157D0BCC000005DC-55_636x365.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJNJJzMZ_fZv3cZnwM-kTudu1af2R5T-mSmP56Cxn4akICfyipC77ZNzCwijTuRJR1lRgTrEkVcYW0Df6hQ53T49aSQhZ5jA9hqysYMjiNI0lIOg4f1yYRtks7fd4L3xQ2L5YdxOQQ1i0/s1600/article-0-157D0BCC000005DC-55_636x365.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And there is wisdom in that, I think.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
There is a definite wisdom in being able to look at the world and see all the ugliness in that world and not let it drag you into becoming bitter and angry.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It's a power that, to my way of thinking, turns fate and chaos into harmony and music.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuMrC5jmhrCCgbFl48VMREQSabnxmlNjtkLSnHJv5B7-i4efP7eGpZamikEYVrDeUwtnujNn3MgAA_s1NVzxKyN6ZtxDe84DJKjv7cOZDK2K8DjOAmafzTpglDvhcicjSZvazV3FZU8n8/s1600/tumblr_mownwf2uul1r9rc67o1_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuMrC5jmhrCCgbFl48VMREQSabnxmlNjtkLSnHJv5B7-i4efP7eGpZamikEYVrDeUwtnujNn3MgAA_s1NVzxKyN6ZtxDe84DJKjv7cOZDK2K8DjOAmafzTpglDvhcicjSZvazV3FZU8n8/s1600/tumblr_mownwf2uul1r9rc67o1_500.gif" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And, growing up, I desperately - desperately - needed that music.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And Lily has always helped me find it.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And that's why she helps me see myself as beautiful, even when the murmuring thoughts in my head that are telling me I'm the worst. She tells those errant, chaotic thoughts to head for the hills, because even dragons and beetles - yes - <i>monsters</i> ... can be beautiful, even in their monstrosity.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAQlMXHcGTAdb7aU76Kz78JaOvmOq8fLNBFFafbcx-MDYnfo1UGoGNT2y5lnypD9HHT2p_ZzfDqtK5Db0rFyrdWfbzlDGh9btlTUiK2RVN-_031yij7iuagchVa29EwlJwW5hy-Ht0kzY/s1600/tumblr_ltl3r5G99J1qa70eyo1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAQlMXHcGTAdb7aU76Kz78JaOvmOq8fLNBFFafbcx-MDYnfo1UGoGNT2y5lnypD9HHT2p_ZzfDqtK5Db0rFyrdWfbzlDGh9btlTUiK2RVN-_031yij7iuagchVa29EwlJwW5hy-Ht0kzY/s1600/tumblr_ltl3r5G99J1qa70eyo1_500.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And it's so nice to have moments when those thoughts are silenced, where I can accept that ... yeah ... I'm not the prettiest person who has ever been born. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And I'm ok with that.<br />
<br />
And I'm OK with knowing that - to many people - I was something of a monster as a young transgirl and am something of a monster as an adult transwoman. And monsters kind of rule.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbmmgExQ07ohaLa7Q-oGKzOEr9H-7EfAhlAoNo0SQ3h7235bT_U9K-y974BAkOcH-xL87XaSDDvtjzvABibeN451zA5qh4rOTpzCJ7J8xFg0NDwWq5U-6W5ZfRfhmM__OlMd1pJTueFrQ/s1600/tumblr_mc5n5t4ZDt1rvsoryo1_1280.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbmmgExQ07ohaLa7Q-oGKzOEr9H-7EfAhlAoNo0SQ3h7235bT_U9K-y974BAkOcH-xL87XaSDDvtjzvABibeN451zA5qh4rOTpzCJ7J8xFg0NDwWq5U-6W5ZfRfhmM__OlMd1pJTueFrQ/s1600/tumblr_mc5n5t4ZDt1rvsoryo1_1280.png" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And we rule specifically because we're weird and strange and different.<br />
<br />
We rule because we're unique.<br />
<br />
And if you can't handle that, know that we don't care. We're not hurting you or anyone else just because we look or talk or act a little different. In fact, we celebrate our differences for the world to see when you "normal" folks haven't beaten the pride out of us.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoQ7dedOvaCljJTzsULjYIsTIDS-vYpvAAkizr5najl-NzEdEmZv3-JpRLAHzMkQ09g7cVOUEzLvX2EKTTkYLPPHfmZuCjLuq8EQt9SyslFilHOgs5sy26j_Q7txH2THQCQjnppGx5dwk/s1600/d4ea013bd3166507c24ae71b9a544b37.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoQ7dedOvaCljJTzsULjYIsTIDS-vYpvAAkizr5najl-NzEdEmZv3-JpRLAHzMkQ09g7cVOUEzLvX2EKTTkYLPPHfmZuCjLuq8EQt9SyslFilHOgs5sy26j_Q7txH2THQCQjnppGx5dwk/s1600/d4ea013bd3166507c24ae71b9a544b37.jpg" height="640" width="451" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
And, yes, I know - I've got circles under my eyes, and I'm fat, and my skin isn't the best, and not many of the "normal" people of the world will probably ever think I'm hot.<br />
<br />
And, when I brim with confidence like when I write essays like this, I don't care. Have another selfie, normals.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ8-hDBLHj5v93p9rOUi2Vr35LLGfDeKkYMD9axA3kkZRqMiFOjFhY6OmsxtwuKzlNeKk_WYL1K8gk8HuQwur0Wu19PBks18i7PjuIjc3kdU5xWx4PLGC1yd_xNucqy8yKglzE9EWo4c8/s1600/selfie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ8-hDBLHj5v93p9rOUi2Vr35LLGfDeKkYMD9axA3kkZRqMiFOjFhY6OmsxtwuKzlNeKk_WYL1K8gk8HuQwur0Wu19PBks18i7PjuIjc3kdU5xWx4PLGC1yd_xNucqy8yKglzE9EWo4c8/s1600/selfie.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
So - yeah, call me ugly. Call me a monster. Because - you know what else?<br />
<br />
We monsters don't need you normal people to justify our existence in order to feel good about ourselves.<br />
<br />
Because there are other wonderful monsters out there, and there really are Special Someones for everyone.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlv67Xx0qEpB9movpinUQR7MAaZu15TFdlJ0hu70dVPmnwfSfJhf14O7hpbltHRXNq96PK-egXIKAU52PnGMo6jmC3civTd6Dq_xUDrTk8i2hjBBBy8MHuSahvv3qKwN1hscHG5qKh1Y8/s1600/420.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlv67Xx0qEpB9movpinUQR7MAaZu15TFdlJ0hu70dVPmnwfSfJhf14O7hpbltHRXNq96PK-egXIKAU52PnGMo6jmC3civTd6Dq_xUDrTk8i2hjBBBy8MHuSahvv3qKwN1hscHG5qKh1Y8/s1600/420.jpeg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
And we do things differently from you.<br />
<br />
And you can't fit us into the peg-holes too easily, despite how badly you need to do that.<br />
<br />
And we do color outside the lines.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdsyf8uXxZAEcNwVw9EPFzvscEqyehI-30ClBg06dN6XFNCm2jpWeRl8Cbpss19u40ymY-VGM3t4pSYkmbLUqfFdPZfCRuUQQqAZWYlpqrInsTKEmhZljzpe9JfmZTqq4-4xkp4FjCYA4/s1600/M00+front+cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdsyf8uXxZAEcNwVw9EPFzvscEqyehI-30ClBg06dN6XFNCm2jpWeRl8Cbpss19u40ymY-VGM3t4pSYkmbLUqfFdPZfCRuUQQqAZWYlpqrInsTKEmhZljzpe9JfmZTqq4-4xkp4FjCYA4/s1600/M00+front+cover.jpg" height="640" width="468" /></a></div>
<br />
But you know what?<br />
<br />
We're out here having the time of our lives - whether those lives are unmercifully brief because of your hateful behavior or whether we make ourselves immortal to history.<br />
<br />
So, remember - while you're stuck within your four white walls, we're spreading our wings.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI1gHD4ZblRrqdQfEziwA7r252mD5MmaRHgrYBb-bnBtIyXyjgVz6CcH_-UZKVia0s4qEG3jHEeQ8q_XtpD8JCV3fLo2EgO6XtENjHEo93oixiFUNnNg1ZfKIIcYlLja_R-KuCjRFlOG8/s1600/lily.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI1gHD4ZblRrqdQfEziwA7r252mD5MmaRHgrYBb-bnBtIyXyjgVz6CcH_-UZKVia0s4qEG3jHEeQ8q_XtpD8JCV3fLo2EgO6XtENjHEo93oixiFUNnNg1ZfKIIcYlLja_R-KuCjRFlOG8/s1600/lily.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
And when we fly, we gain advantages you can't even imagine.<br />
<br />
Because we get a different point of view.<br />
<br />
We have <i>perspective </i>from that point of view, too - and it's perspective you can never have.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
And we can see beauty where you only see ugliness.<br />
<br />
And that means we can see ourselves as beautiful.<br />
<br />
And we can see parts of the world that are invisible to you.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXPkquhYB8ZksZFXmIJd11A1JbZlT3NWABuuBCByuGIjEfYFwsM3R156Irw8c-hF-EHZuXqopvUNyGG76HBwZA6uIL_z4c8n2Sf_StJhv71ejBFvW0dWN16rTKhdmjFmAKjOzU0M8mqOU/s1600/Mockingbird_Lane_Pilot_6_a_h.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXPkquhYB8ZksZFXmIJd11A1JbZlT3NWABuuBCByuGIjEfYFwsM3R156Irw8c-hF-EHZuXqopvUNyGG76HBwZA6uIL_z4c8n2Sf_StJhv71ejBFvW0dWN16rTKhdmjFmAKjOzU0M8mqOU/s1600/Mockingbird_Lane_Pilot_6_a_h.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
And we can look past things that make you run away.<br />
<br />
Which means we can be there for each other in the roughest times, when people really need each other in life ... the frightening times, the uncertain times.<br />
<br />
The ugly times, when those you love are hurting and need your help the most.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
And we're there for each other even when things change, and people change.<br />
<br />
And we don't have to judge by appearances when those changes happen.<br />
<br />
And we can see people because of their character and not just their appearance.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcgG4su2BvtzI6kfPNnVES_NFtANbb-8qMly7b8dsLRnPt8kODuP0M5IWTmV8N4fC6eQ4QDcIVgkQA6d7T0D2WzKFxsr_XjdZoO4m6SpnoPHsrW51S-JrritmBf5qAr9ln4BgYAOqx_qQ/s1600/Munsters-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcgG4su2BvtzI6kfPNnVES_NFtANbb-8qMly7b8dsLRnPt8kODuP0M5IWTmV8N4fC6eQ4QDcIVgkQA6d7T0D2WzKFxsr_XjdZoO4m6SpnoPHsrW51S-JrritmBf5qAr9ln4BgYAOqx_qQ/s1600/Munsters-2.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
And, sure, we fail, too - sometimes spectacularly.<br />
<br />
But, remember - we're <i>monsters</i>.<br />
<br />
<i>And monsters always come back - one way or another.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRtEhO3I-owVRQ8d-mKrI3lpwuP2tQQucoT4xeqzR7UwJVoKcJ_HOej7WtZEGoR4N87AHhSkWLk3honnhYkJPK_WD4zei7Xt-7nLs8T5ZbxDOdgaGUj6hz1Z2J1ONKPdXYTBnIfMMzAxg/s1600/munsters.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRtEhO3I-owVRQ8d-mKrI3lpwuP2tQQucoT4xeqzR7UwJVoKcJ_HOej7WtZEGoR4N87AHhSkWLk3honnhYkJPK_WD4zei7Xt-7nLs8T5ZbxDOdgaGUj6hz1Z2J1ONKPdXYTBnIfMMzAxg/s1600/munsters.jpg" height="494" width="640" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i>
And monsters are also so often family when it comes to other monsters.<br />
<br />
Because our blood-families in the real world so often reject us.<br />
<br />
So we have to make our own families, sometimes out of discarded scraps that you might reject but which we will always cherish and love forever.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR1pEI1Q5TBd92Yye5Mci0Zr0EqOjlyOeGyJfIg59cTDZW4LpHTwzDnfZryoRljC4ZI1gbpOVv46FVaIMh5WfacfI-tB-pcEXUWOCLGVwrdEMz_VeySs1DkyBUUv9qFIu73g-VHo4yfCs/s1600/munsters+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR1pEI1Q5TBd92Yye5Mci0Zr0EqOjlyOeGyJfIg59cTDZW4LpHTwzDnfZryoRljC4ZI1gbpOVv46FVaIMh5WfacfI-tB-pcEXUWOCLGVwrdEMz_VeySs1DkyBUUv9qFIu73g-VHo4yfCs/s1600/munsters+(1).jpg" height="640" width="536" /></a></div>
<br />
And that's special, and unique, and something so many people can't ever understand.<br />
<br />
And I think that this also means that we're more true to our families of fellow monsters - <i>because </i>we <i>had</i> to make them out of nothing.<br />
<br />
And in creating them, we value them a little bit more. And that brings us closer together.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEincYXZ_hYvFGFU6whmZcI8Ho8dJbGI6TVIRHnhsm6Wvnp8hb8TLufkgIsSUb25CUKR9IRk7p7GbXsjBCW2DtEOlIbMvZKAlQ1rTSvF2PyqYr4GlJ-TiZJHbT2B5em9SV07uWvvK2aTTbc/s1600/Munsters_cast_1964.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEincYXZ_hYvFGFU6whmZcI8Ho8dJbGI6TVIRHnhsm6Wvnp8hb8TLufkgIsSUb25CUKR9IRk7p7GbXsjBCW2DtEOlIbMvZKAlQ1rTSvF2PyqYr4GlJ-TiZJHbT2B5em9SV07uWvvK2aTTbc/s1600/Munsters_cast_1964.JPG" height="640" width="495" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And family - at its best and most treasured - knows that honesty with each other is the greatest beauty there is.<br />
<br />
And if that isn't enough to convince you we monsters rule ...<br />
<br />
... consider that, hey, at least none of us are Marilyn. Tsk. Poor dear.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx698gtuDyu3SNPlGw1BIeKuzdfj5IkbW9lXYFEorRoHC-SQs7MD1_BPJfFMRc4_ddXYXFQkFFFsB9jMtlnOVCpKBXkde6h9o7q2o5gSRFtgjrFSv5Y7yULDCSYUPd0sSsjnIH0LZrxvM/s1600/Munsters+Portrait.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx698gtuDyu3SNPlGw1BIeKuzdfj5IkbW9lXYFEorRoHC-SQs7MD1_BPJfFMRc4_ddXYXFQkFFFsB9jMtlnOVCpKBXkde6h9o7q2o5gSRFtgjrFSv5Y7yULDCSYUPd0sSsjnIH0LZrxvM/s1600/Munsters+Portrait.png" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
If you know the show you get the joke.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And if you don't know the show ... what are you waiting for? It's on <a href="http://netflix.com/" target="_blank">Netflix</a>. As always, I'll wait.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Back? Awesome. Don't you feel illuminated?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwl59T4t0vPnYW6GuPcJARxhOFN3kOE_TSjTb297KtQbTttJpcUByiVxWdvmms1weHO-q0fMP-booGa3YrvHWuXUxGWQt2X2H-h6_WL6xKzTC_Tjib8BghIOkTrHpSSlI-c585luSq9RI/s1600/c2a6d208cb35c82a0ce0dd603d6db5b5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwl59T4t0vPnYW6GuPcJARxhOFN3kOE_TSjTb297KtQbTttJpcUByiVxWdvmms1weHO-q0fMP-booGa3YrvHWuXUxGWQt2X2H-h6_WL6xKzTC_Tjib8BghIOkTrHpSSlI-c585luSq9RI/s1600/c2a6d208cb35c82a0ce0dd603d6db5b5.jpg" height="640" width="526" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
And, as for me?<br />
<br />
I am a beautiful, wonderful monster. And I'm proud of how I look as I finish writing this. I feel good about who I am.<br />
<br />
So, have another selfie -<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi33ZwP00nmyrCqbvXegrqsIM6n6ArVeRCWDSoO7bYh387CB7qSGrM37G42YpCepYXIeKZaX3lkihelQPoPXj2jaJCdqx1ET0JBJeq6H3NSxLjmuFKlY8qs3JW4KyA5SdWfUQWwa9gHmRY/s1600/pic2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi33ZwP00nmyrCqbvXegrqsIM6n6ArVeRCWDSoO7bYh387CB7qSGrM37G42YpCepYXIeKZaX3lkihelQPoPXj2jaJCdqx1ET0JBJeq6H3NSxLjmuFKlY8qs3JW4KyA5SdWfUQWwa9gHmRY/s1600/pic2.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
<br />
I look lovely today, don't I?<br />
<br />
Yeah.<br />
<br />
I think so, too.</div>
</div>
Dee Emm Elmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14053652749413575579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1555007489284044452.post-61058679363028199772014-07-14T17:47:00.002-07:002014-07-14T21:50:37.040-07:00"My hair color has nothing to do with my psychological problems." (Cat Valentine)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRXp78_DsbXlk5bxXvU2vn91gxjlege4P3re2a820HtZ_01w5FexxEI1z-EV7CqUrNoIP0dZavviWyQTXRToH-YScSIU4ivb8gyPix9ADAPAeOC9mIRzQ9KtR1KXhFT-y44EwuKJ3zzWkY/s1600/starterpic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRXp78_DsbXlk5bxXvU2vn91gxjlege4P3re2a820HtZ_01w5FexxEI1z-EV7CqUrNoIP0dZavviWyQTXRToH-YScSIU4ivb8gyPix9ADAPAeOC9mIRzQ9KtR1KXhFT-y44EwuKJ3zzWkY/s1600/starterpic.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I'm too often at war with myself.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And too often, I hate myself.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Because, you see ... deep-down, in real life, I'm really a Cat Valentine kind of person.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBWsOwA7XO2F1ieLtWTjUf1OEztLRWBZwFwesvFk3XSCaWt_IheV_kir2OilzVA-HhpgEgrJOvfWW2FH0zupfgBhS1_JgEP3fOmnHfz-4-pziMz63y9V2jP277VVaVraDU_QgXa7DaDeR1/s1600/ariana-grande-cat-valentine-victorious-Favim.com-371405.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBWsOwA7XO2F1ieLtWTjUf1OEztLRWBZwFwesvFk3XSCaWt_IheV_kir2OilzVA-HhpgEgrJOvfWW2FH0zupfgBhS1_JgEP3fOmnHfz-4-pziMz63y9V2jP277VVaVraDU_QgXa7DaDeR1/s1600/ariana-grande-cat-valentine-victorious-Favim.com-371405.gif" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Now, if you know the character of Cat Valentine, who has appeared on shows such as <i><a href="http://www.nick.com/shows/victorious/" target="_blank">Victorious</a></i> and <i><a href="http://www.nick.com/shows/sam-and-cat/" target="_blank">Sam & Cat</a></i>, then this might seem kind of contradictory.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Because, if there's anyone who's not at war with themselves, it would be Cat Valentine.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But ... I'm still a Cat. In fact, that's kind of part of the problem I have with myself in the first place - which is that I don't have a problem with myself.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOI0DBGxc6J9ueNKL8IE5hykhdjCSy66oV2v9j7mkWodg1y5Vo7Ij8wlHouIjFxnmFyvm5TQATxQwnZyRJu8IrnTh3tlSHLOWtwEQzEh_ZKIO_vuLupde7OIEnkOJqQFprJ36FtNDRSlMB/s1600/large.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOI0DBGxc6J9ueNKL8IE5hykhdjCSy66oV2v9j7mkWodg1y5Vo7Ij8wlHouIjFxnmFyvm5TQATxQwnZyRJu8IrnTh3tlSHLOWtwEQzEh_ZKIO_vuLupde7OIEnkOJqQFprJ36FtNDRSlMB/s1600/large.gif" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It isn't as complicated as it might sound, however.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Because the key concept to notice in what I've said so far is the phrase "deep-down."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Because I have trouble accepting myself.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHvTQwx3GipZ2sghJbhLy82-VGaUn1rVwUdDrtffh6DjWkjk8RTdYA-LrEcn-8sIcByx2h-jjvosQhDHNY0jFOf6SIMlG2cS1Q0sPBm0m3jlzoewUt52239rgkVOWCR4hijdhNF70OVrEU/s1600/8180586.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHvTQwx3GipZ2sghJbhLy82-VGaUn1rVwUdDrtffh6DjWkjk8RTdYA-LrEcn-8sIcByx2h-jjvosQhDHNY0jFOf6SIMlG2cS1Q0sPBm0m3jlzoewUt52239rgkVOWCR4hijdhNF70OVrEU/s1600/8180586.gif" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And you know why I have trouble accepting myself?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It's simple.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It's because of fear.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVJGX0c4RAk60Hx2l_doH9F6laVoJzqi3bGWBbC-NCuEIDpN-VwqSyV1yE3PSbNdz8uoJqV3NTLYMMgQINIi1PaF4eh30eZ7pDXBMxvUqKmhF6YWMRQsLriL8VJn4OvZ-zCbIZOPDr7alV/s1600/tumblr_mme7j2L17Y1sob13ro1_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVJGX0c4RAk60Hx2l_doH9F6laVoJzqi3bGWBbC-NCuEIDpN-VwqSyV1yE3PSbNdz8uoJqV3NTLYMMgQINIi1PaF4eh30eZ7pDXBMxvUqKmhF6YWMRQsLriL8VJn4OvZ-zCbIZOPDr7alV/s1600/tumblr_mme7j2L17Y1sob13ro1_500.gif" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I'm afraid ...</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
... a lot. I mean, like, a whole lot. People notice it. People can see it in my face - all the time. People tell me I'm always frowning, looking worried. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
What they're seeing, though? That's fear.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkc5CEPzsUL4JHf08RhOXcR76PguomHadqHyMEfdl0OUQibys1zwyaf4G2P4UCYhMO-toZQkuLlYnKVTy83vENZWIhIN5FnFDuwt5otwae-YD1KMPGC4fEjvK_4ZoLRq8OTPPXEBE16VfO/s1600/large+%25282%2529.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkc5CEPzsUL4JHf08RhOXcR76PguomHadqHyMEfdl0OUQibys1zwyaf4G2P4UCYhMO-toZQkuLlYnKVTy83vENZWIhIN5FnFDuwt5otwae-YD1KMPGC4fEjvK_4ZoLRq8OTPPXEBE16VfO/s1600/large+%25282%2529.png" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And it's hell to write this, because I'm afraid.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I'm afraid of laying out these feelings.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But a big part of this blog is doing things that scare me, so I'm writing this one no matter how much it frightens me to write it. No matter what might happen or how writing this makes my head feel dizzy and my stomach churn.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj46MFLisn1Jrst7nBiSsXM8PX-AHhvCBlvhvUW2neQvm_HjwZ6roRY8tZO8ycggVQceAATLPmpmO-sXxCx0tWtAZh5wBltmT94pa3mABC6QO0TfF5ghbeSqWn5eop1mPC0AcZITZ3X_pll/s1600/tumblr_mosvd4Ow1O1qhfu86o1_500.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj46MFLisn1Jrst7nBiSsXM8PX-AHhvCBlvhvUW2neQvm_HjwZ6roRY8tZO8ycggVQceAATLPmpmO-sXxCx0tWtAZh5wBltmT94pa3mABC6QO0TfF5ghbeSqWn5eop1mPC0AcZITZ3X_pll/s1600/tumblr_mosvd4Ow1O1qhfu86o1_500.png" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And if knowing this disappoints you, too bad. This is who and what I am, as are all these blog posts.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But it doesn't mean I'm not dreading writing it. It doesn't mean I'm not scared of what will happen once I hit that <a href="http://nick.com/" target="_blank">Nickelodeon</a>-Orange "Publish" button on the top of the screen. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But I'm going to hit that "Publish" button, and then walk away from the computer for a while after I do, fretting about how this piece will be received - convinced despite my best efforts that I've failed my readers and myself.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT-wCmK61CiY3YAavHwpvQ3q1lXzcr1zjT_5SEBV8jTpUx1sOIcYznbuN6h_2hzvt1pOQhvaqvdrruSKkGPekSCVJ2aI2fssTp1Y51_YDSctIwYo-b9Fu00gPYwH4Rlh0AgNWKs39iztuv/s1600/But_why_-_Cat_Valentine.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT-wCmK61CiY3YAavHwpvQ3q1lXzcr1zjT_5SEBV8jTpUx1sOIcYznbuN6h_2hzvt1pOQhvaqvdrruSKkGPekSCVJ2aI2fssTp1Y51_YDSctIwYo-b9Fu00gPYwH4Rlh0AgNWKs39iztuv/s1600/But_why_-_Cat_Valentine.gif" /></a></div>
<br />
Because I feel like a failure all the time.<br />
<br />
And I mean, constantly.<br />
<br />
Like, to the point of absurdity, most likely, if viewed from others' perspectives.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRe4t7dbirN7RtgMO-2njh0pRBlkAP-81BHJPvAb1l8Fg59xcUy-EEHOFrPE3PxJ-fhAudeIPXPIN1jWJshYNG0h3FoVyxQfBQiPHrdQcEat8okw5ag5CKMzIPy9aDG9feeOu-UWhWv57e/s1600/Cat-Valentine-cat-valentine-35945293-245-260.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRe4t7dbirN7RtgMO-2njh0pRBlkAP-81BHJPvAb1l8Fg59xcUy-EEHOFrPE3PxJ-fhAudeIPXPIN1jWJshYNG0h3FoVyxQfBQiPHrdQcEat8okw5ag5CKMzIPy9aDG9feeOu-UWhWv57e/s1600/Cat-Valentine-cat-valentine-35945293-245-260.gif" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Sometimes ... I feel like I break everything I touch. I feel like I mess up when I try to express the most basic thoughts or concepts. I feel like I'm an idiot. I feel like I'm socially awkward. I feel like I'm ugly. I feel like I'm downright stupid. I feel like I'm mentally deficient. I feel like I'm a poor example. I feel like I'm making all the wrong choices. I feel like I let down people who make the mistake of calling themselves my friend. I feel like I'm a waste of time.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And, worse, I feel like I don't deserve to be happy. And, heck, sometimes, I even feel like I deserve to be treated as if I'm all the things in the first paragraph.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
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And when I feel this way, I sometimes lose hope.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC7gHKVgxqJgWcJ4S7XMuBRgbBIGXrvjF9Ej263ZTY0hDm9x2FLwURob-wlSMMwgbt76SVtPJcZotTMqjFuxt_nTSB2QSfV4avNdhe6z1vy2IcbPdoSpAb_NqqJFubGlRpM1U1s5kP0icB/s1600/tumblr_mekptsTtK61rxsx9k.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC7gHKVgxqJgWcJ4S7XMuBRgbBIGXrvjF9Ej263ZTY0hDm9x2FLwURob-wlSMMwgbt76SVtPJcZotTMqjFuxt_nTSB2QSfV4avNdhe6z1vy2IcbPdoSpAb_NqqJFubGlRpM1U1s5kP0icB/s1600/tumblr_mekptsTtK61rxsx9k.gif" height="188" width="320" /></a></div>
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And, so, it becomes a self-punishing cycle.</div>
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And why does this cycle perpetuate itself in my head?</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Because I don't forgive.</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIx2x1UfW6j7COo67HL1iHTH0ulzlMs4RfpYkgbsaGFm6JT-LZTSuejNwkJJWxN6rLDQINT0foi7Upsao0eA2WAImgBFW1B-1r_W48zjSWRiLN5_ozc7itZA7LGc4JDtw31nQXo1_xp_Jp/s1600/tumblr_ma3jaqsITn1rq68ev.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIx2x1UfW6j7COo67HL1iHTH0ulzlMs4RfpYkgbsaGFm6JT-LZTSuejNwkJJWxN6rLDQINT0foi7Upsao0eA2WAImgBFW1B-1r_W48zjSWRiLN5_ozc7itZA7LGc4JDtw31nQXo1_xp_Jp/s1600/tumblr_ma3jaqsITn1rq68ev.gif" /></a></div>
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This means not just that I don't forgive other people.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I also don't forgive myself. For anything. Ever. </div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
And I do a lot of things wrong.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCDgOV2QlBWb4gqN46bBcvG5BjP_yuaShg2DZSYJ-zB78Or4vKXaK-P8-PQU0JFkmdsVuHbBcgZJZdUxOKrjnLAV6TjqQyEBwXyjOoQgW2u5L7wh2eWn4tEXimG8W8rWCM_vjSDu4sVhDF/s1600/tumblr_mnz8d81LSQ1rcqnnxo1_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCDgOV2QlBWb4gqN46bBcvG5BjP_yuaShg2DZSYJ-zB78Or4vKXaK-P8-PQU0JFkmdsVuHbBcgZJZdUxOKrjnLAV6TjqQyEBwXyjOoQgW2u5L7wh2eWn4tEXimG8W8rWCM_vjSDu4sVhDF/s1600/tumblr_mnz8d81LSQ1rcqnnxo1_500.gif" /></a></div>
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I've talked about being autistic before in these blogs posts, but I've lately begun to wonder if people know what being autistic is really like - if they even can know unless they've experienced it.<br />
<br />
And, you know what? I think they can know even without being autistic, because we who are autistic can share and express ourselves about it.<br />
<br />
But know that it's not as simple as so many of the cardboard cut-out representations of autism. We're much deeper than that, because we're people - not cut-outs.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyIjoFyHA6wT3n41cCCTHdffpN2zapmMQn9f3o6qo15BxA9SHG9bg8RWMmwtYeRsbida1t1s62LUfrswsDOPdAIMb2FBbPAvUdYoFYmd8Vn-kTtStsANf-ERRpgYbZ4PZUtqowSdGzb5g/s1600/thumb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyIjoFyHA6wT3n41cCCTHdffpN2zapmMQn9f3o6qo15BxA9SHG9bg8RWMmwtYeRsbida1t1s62LUfrswsDOPdAIMb2FBbPAvUdYoFYmd8Vn-kTtStsANf-ERRpgYbZ4PZUtqowSdGzb5g/s1600/thumb.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
So, yeah, I'm autistic.</div>
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And, as a result, I mess up all the time.</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
And, most of the time, nobody understands how or why I'm doing what I'm doing - even if it makes perfect sense to me.</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjChw0C8z_GRRmIoX2DdYqQOuKVyuh24MRaX1Ad2DjE4hiP9Hkq0OsWEOySnLmFxX_xhWYRmO2YB724Uh57uqKW7xSHJcPrRhs3F18VQGXI9AR0KyK2vcqSChlhsMfcOawbhmgblKLwy9rc/s1600/1344803796205385.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjChw0C8z_GRRmIoX2DdYqQOuKVyuh24MRaX1Ad2DjE4hiP9Hkq0OsWEOySnLmFxX_xhWYRmO2YB724Uh57uqKW7xSHJcPrRhs3F18VQGXI9AR0KyK2vcqSChlhsMfcOawbhmgblKLwy9rc/s1600/1344803796205385.jpg" /></a></div>
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And, as I said in my last piece ... I'm clumsy.</div>
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I'm awkward.</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
And my skills at manipulating the material objects world around me are virtually non-existent. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUKbVzFXk5ozywZEf6t1rdU176dWV7p_ylMRHFzqGJglTgHaKDmTZOlGC8JYh0Hf7uayvUb9gKbcXJ5BB8Mfaz7ItakIHNyVoxvjFN-juA14wPRFijs9c2TLVg3pvGb1ppDXtyHuX8mKCq/s1600/tumblr_m7vgy1iC2t1ral993o1_250.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUKbVzFXk5ozywZEf6t1rdU176dWV7p_ylMRHFzqGJglTgHaKDmTZOlGC8JYh0Hf7uayvUb9gKbcXJ5BB8Mfaz7ItakIHNyVoxvjFN-juA14wPRFijs9c2TLVg3pvGb1ppDXtyHuX8mKCq/s1600/tumblr_m7vgy1iC2t1ral993o1_250.gif" /></a></div>
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<br />
And I'm prone to jump from one thought or emotion to another rather suddenly, in ways that perplex other people.</div>
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And I'm prone to do the same in the way I talk, moving from subject to subject.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And, as a result, people don't often know how to engage in regular conversation with me because they can't connect with what I'm saying, no matter how hard I'm trying not to fail and to connect with them and to share the deepest thoughts in my mind.</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJF-pyR94jLghjjZmvzoL74eKlEVOxpSmgQ16R8h6XkOoI6Lp33CTUF_SXBMwZcZ8v4pENqiNcZINr435ozC5W9Nf10MurZ_foyracrU2ND_Lrr3iX2mOuoVg2CnYNV3Xl0ZYbTXqpH__0/s1600/tumblr_m4pc1mgkNq1rpinpvo1_r2_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJF-pyR94jLghjjZmvzoL74eKlEVOxpSmgQ16R8h6XkOoI6Lp33CTUF_SXBMwZcZ8v4pENqiNcZINr435ozC5W9Nf10MurZ_foyracrU2ND_Lrr3iX2mOuoVg2CnYNV3Xl0ZYbTXqpH__0/s1600/tumblr_m4pc1mgkNq1rpinpvo1_r2_500.gif" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And many autistic people are also very honest.</div>
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Too honest.</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
Painfully honest.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxvCaZ1N1W2hPTI2j1E2dcZM-_j-OuKclJT0U3yhRaGKbXXF2cNL7e4AvPjsg5By61YbTjfXj0a-HYy9VsxebKYgPRgZODDO1KDzWN6es1qbpmfFzhdBTtcHPvpSuN3ratu-iMcQaBV6qY/s1600/cat-cat-valentine-funny-jade-Favim.com-1072996.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxvCaZ1N1W2hPTI2j1E2dcZM-_j-OuKclJT0U3yhRaGKbXXF2cNL7e4AvPjsg5By61YbTjfXj0a-HYy9VsxebKYgPRgZODDO1KDzWN6es1qbpmfFzhdBTtcHPvpSuN3ratu-iMcQaBV6qY/s1600/cat-cat-valentine-funny-jade-Favim.com-1072996.jpg" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
And, at the same time, we can be seen as lying by other people because they think we're exaggerating when we're not. <br />
<br />
We're simply expressing how we feel in any given moment.<br />
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And this is too much for some people to handle because it makes them think, again, that we just want to be the center of everything. We don't. We're just confused and overwhelmed, sometimes.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIoDKECs2iZXT5ipUgRX7ldrGXvJRp10A10YCZRZau4U3VUW26O15i4Ij9Gjl4LEfelpmkWudumRYAQp9c8tDWlHxhYfGgR0E6YcSXdmKO9DZaY_iEyeMza45BdMIPPNjJx3E3gCZrP0o/s1600/tumblr_m5qgxduyNQ1ryzxfao1_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIoDKECs2iZXT5ipUgRX7ldrGXvJRp10A10YCZRZau4U3VUW26O15i4Ij9Gjl4LEfelpmkWudumRYAQp9c8tDWlHxhYfGgR0E6YcSXdmKO9DZaY_iEyeMza45BdMIPPNjJx3E3gCZrP0o/s1600/tumblr_m5qgxduyNQ1ryzxfao1_500.gif" /></a></div>
<br />
In this way, and in others, we also tend to also speak our minds in a way that is of-the-moment and is very much unconcerned with social constructs.<br />
<br />
Or niceties. Or politeness.<br />
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We just say what we're thinking.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOpmDcO5it9RMCejILFlPfNIblhSFw7QHJ1x32uCYxocfLD-tMEzpsUh4Kh3uXrAWHzrw4RxAzWdDDrQc7Ek4l5ZoXNTNPUbPFIW93oq9DL1lf3qOAa1G2P-GxBYBqhcLgtur8sUYqYdg/s1600/tumblr_mnzs8yc6ae1rglhono6_250.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOpmDcO5it9RMCejILFlPfNIblhSFw7QHJ1x32uCYxocfLD-tMEzpsUh4Kh3uXrAWHzrw4RxAzWdDDrQc7Ek4l5ZoXNTNPUbPFIW93oq9DL1lf3qOAa1G2P-GxBYBqhcLgtur8sUYqYdg/s1600/tumblr_mnzs8yc6ae1rglhono6_250.gif" /></a></div>
<br />
And, on that note, we're also extremely literal.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
Like, super-literal.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And that confuses people, too.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_BSsQU5o-vB1lAgFGRRb5SqT0OSVC_ELDWZYDuDYyOOhYYmkb4Y4ALU-5ltj3gsVZ3Jcs9qo3laBJEpkWMwYrViY7tiDQAfGhvSflO3tuWUlBzJ7H16vylvncIDvIpTgTGnvQlg0mhYgx/s1600/2f1dc1ace5b353c9c28394ecb8ee8171.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_BSsQU5o-vB1lAgFGRRb5SqT0OSVC_ELDWZYDuDYyOOhYYmkb4Y4ALU-5ltj3gsVZ3Jcs9qo3laBJEpkWMwYrViY7tiDQAfGhvSflO3tuWUlBzJ7H16vylvncIDvIpTgTGnvQlg0mhYgx/s1600/2f1dc1ace5b353c9c28394ecb8ee8171.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And being literal can make other people think you're angry with them.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Or disrespecting them.</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
Or, worst of all, that you neurotypical folks just think we're not just stupid but also are idiots.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKMQtAh41Tv3SEsecrr6zQePXzomwezRa6bF_mVNS_yzsMowMLk9rW3xown4We1VOrl_O4yTxKWQXZfg-yoyH4h4WBr7Yf2gNtpMK6d6IhQxsXIpu1ea7JEUoZ56woygR-xv-LUiH_5xX3/s1600/815c266c1d8566d4623dc9ac07ffbeab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKMQtAh41Tv3SEsecrr6zQePXzomwezRa6bF_mVNS_yzsMowMLk9rW3xown4We1VOrl_O4yTxKWQXZfg-yoyH4h4WBr7Yf2gNtpMK6d6IhQxsXIpu1ea7JEUoZ56woygR-xv-LUiH_5xX3/s1600/815c266c1d8566d4623dc9ac07ffbeab.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And we can often suddenly blurt out a reference to something that appears to have nothing to do with anything else going on in the world around us at that moment.<br />
<br />
To us, it's a carefully thought-out expression that often follows a clear, logical path.<br />
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To everyone else, though, these mental shortcuts can just seem like random babbling or an effort to seek attention.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieYQrrllumzOdMHCu3dpTkFw9bNsx77zF-F4hmUyDQHZBTcw2H5oWfQxIHIrCQjeUabLybKDn9Lp4By2Xx0STqmxpkNn0SYQUZ-zwfxlaNx8NtEwdWWuUDqlzWlxMSFhpJZQokofqqdwo/s1600/tumblr_m3hk3j5X7V1qhq1zgo5_r1_250.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieYQrrllumzOdMHCu3dpTkFw9bNsx77zF-F4hmUyDQHZBTcw2H5oWfQxIHIrCQjeUabLybKDn9Lp4By2Xx0STqmxpkNn0SYQUZ-zwfxlaNx8NtEwdWWuUDqlzWlxMSFhpJZQokofqqdwo/s1600/tumblr_m3hk3j5X7V1qhq1zgo5_r1_250.gif" /></a></div>
<br />
And, because we often have our own unique path to get to where we're going in our own heads, this can mean we have very specific issues with how other people do things.<br />
<br />
In fact, we sometimes have to work out our own very specific patterns of behavior to achieve what others can manage when they're just being off-the-cuff.<br />
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And, because of this, we sometimes don't adapt well when other people are the ones deciding on plans and rules and methods.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
And it doesn't help that we often have to find these shortcut pathways to doing simple things, what others call "life hacks" just to get ourselves through everyday situations that give us difficulty.<br />
<br />
Because, while it may be therapeutic or helpful for us ...<br />
<br />
... it's seen by other people as just, you know, kinda weird when we have certain preferences, certain ways we've conditioned ourselves to think and act and deal with things based on our own lived experiences.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBT4_M6MGWe5pSJ79sPFYtUhc9ny9SwbvA13QgO5P7tesw9JXOH3pAC_6SA1JgnvTFyYTB-prWcofPApCN4j464fEi-bIFZmqoP6xbtAWzHzx-0bF7R80EkMamXuh1iXpCgFqw5yOrbe4/s1600/tumblr_mat5z10nO21rc443co1_400.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBT4_M6MGWe5pSJ79sPFYtUhc9ny9SwbvA13QgO5P7tesw9JXOH3pAC_6SA1JgnvTFyYTB-prWcofPApCN4j464fEi-bIFZmqoP6xbtAWzHzx-0bF7R80EkMamXuh1iXpCgFqw5yOrbe4/s1600/tumblr_mat5z10nO21rc443co1_400.gif" /></a></div>
<br />
And we're also often very sensitive to certain lived experiences that you deal with every single day. Now, that's a concept I've had trouble explaining to other people. But I try to get it across like this. <br />
<br />
When you wake up and have a glass of orange, juice it can taste like the most refreshing thing ever because it's been a while since you tasted orange juice? <br />
<br />
Well, imagine if every time you ever experienced anything, no matter how many times you'd experienced it, it was like that. And, now, imagine if every time you ever did any sequence of events, there were so many permutations that it felt like it was a whole new experience, and that you couldn't rely on past data to tell you what was actually going on ... so that you had to interpret everything as if it were totally new information every time anything happened to you. So, yeah, there's that when you're autistic.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQUjWuPq7ghK08JS-lTntN6A7UgB8QpeCNdjxWLQUfdtHUd97gzAgUaScZWU2ungoVK2Gn5NpNI2oAKPbUv6tjLRBCUq0eVhpUJlpBktsvvM3oYujQczH1TqgoNa18RCzXPhcdL9Gu_Ys/s1600/large.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQUjWuPq7ghK08JS-lTntN6A7UgB8QpeCNdjxWLQUfdtHUd97gzAgUaScZWU2ungoVK2Gn5NpNI2oAKPbUv6tjLRBCUq0eVhpUJlpBktsvvM3oYujQczH1TqgoNa18RCzXPhcdL9Gu_Ys/s1600/large.png" /></a></div>
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And you know what else? Pain works that way for me, too.<br />
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Because every wound is new. Every damaging experience is like it's the first time. Whenever I cut my finger, it's like I've never cut my finger before ... so, try to imagine your first paper-cut. <br />
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And everything around us is always trying to tell us how we should feel, from media to family to friends to you-name-it. And we don't like being forced into a particular way of being.<br />
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And, sometimes, the reactions of others - and of ourselves - can result in a mental meltdown, when our brains are reeling and we don't know what's happening in our own body and mind.<br />
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And these reeling emotions can come from anywhere and anything, because it's not about how familiar the experience is ... because, like I said, may experiences are always new. So it can come ... from a paper-cut. And the reactions of other people are so routinely confusing about just about everything in life, that every discomfort can become a trauma - or a source of fascination in you. You just never know. <br />
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So you roll with it and try to study the world and try to control the data and to understand the input ... and to understanding emotions in other people, too.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-ojPYXLztxAwHiDxObd-1z5PtPIwsKJNqBhJQO7r_-jdQ7wY4p-gaOf5obfaOHUTrWp60O5ELvFqNlOZ_5P-5d57ixTi0UsvxgiJZju-n-eYJbnfE9ntSm4DViWiLeKH7S5iXcARa3gM/s1600/Tumblr_losjgxTsvT1qieo7ho1_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-ojPYXLztxAwHiDxObd-1z5PtPIwsKJNqBhJQO7r_-jdQ7wY4p-gaOf5obfaOHUTrWp60O5ELvFqNlOZ_5P-5d57ixTi0UsvxgiJZju-n-eYJbnfE9ntSm4DViWiLeKH7S5iXcARa3gM/s1600/Tumblr_losjgxTsvT1qieo7ho1_500.gif" /></a></div>
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And my autism also means, with its emotional roller-coaster of confusion, that I'm often very broad and gregarious in the way I express myself. I gesture and gesticulate and wiggle and sway ... </div>
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... which most people don't like ...</div>
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... because they often end up on the receiving end of it.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGEz4_qpDDTbydGEJyq6fZsUXiu1GyFlgYFil-foy8B9ECy0LWMI_MthaZZvz1OQq9D1jmgnZOaif93wboA-0-jDEV7raMLyuMrP2WkMWVVPhWBHxw6i7wTz2gjuRACJlqkBacM2j12M3l/s1600/Sam_and_Cat.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGEz4_qpDDTbydGEJyq6fZsUXiu1GyFlgYFil-foy8B9ECy0LWMI_MthaZZvz1OQq9D1jmgnZOaif93wboA-0-jDEV7raMLyuMrP2WkMWVVPhWBHxw6i7wTz2gjuRACJlqkBacM2j12M3l/s1600/Sam_and_Cat.gif" /></a></div>
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And this is where my greatest fear comes to life. Because I realize in writing this that what I truly fear isn't actually the hate - or the pain of rejection, in and of itself.<br />
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I'm telling the truth when I say I don't care about that.<br />
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What I care about is being wrong. Because I'm terrified of making mistakes. And I can become timid, not toward people, but toward the world when I present the things that appeal to me.<br />
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And, while I don't fear the hatred of others in and of itself, I fear being incorrect because of what will happen next - that overwhelming swarm of confusion as I struggle to figure out how to right the ship of my not-so-great brain, that the fresh pain of the rage of others will leave me confused and bewildered and unable to function and that my autism will get the better of me and that I'll have a meltdown. <br />
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For me, those are real cause-and-effect processes. I don't want the overwhelming emotional input of the hatred of others. I fear that I won't be properly prepared for others' hatred. And I fear that people must secretly hate me. Like, really really really hate me. And that they'll express it out of nowhere when I'm really least prepared for it, which I fear would be disastrous for my state of mind.</div>
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And, as a result, I kind of anticipate these moments of being overwhelmed. And, as a result of that anticipation, I get defensive about dealing with the words and thoughts and ideas of other people before much has really happened.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfkxngBsIpETMwM4xUmnVOv0gNXyX_-682XCD4YZ40EJDpjzdx8dBuwKJJRwfitW59A7srs3pIQAzmlRnQY8hVxKjkej3HZO44sIYCXPfR5CRkBlHlPmGztX-dXk2LnZQ5oHRX4puyIWo0/s1600/CatANDTORI.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfkxngBsIpETMwM4xUmnVOv0gNXyX_-682XCD4YZ40EJDpjzdx8dBuwKJJRwfitW59A7srs3pIQAzmlRnQY8hVxKjkej3HZO44sIYCXPfR5CRkBlHlPmGztX-dXk2LnZQ5oHRX4puyIWo0/s1600/CatANDTORI.png" /></a></div>
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And, in turn, this filter sifts the input I get from other people and targets pretty much only the negative things they say about me, no matter how much I want to be positive.</div>
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Because I'm scared - not of being hated, but of this abject terror at being unprepared, so I anticipate hatred the way someone might when they're about to get jabbed by a needle at the doctor's office. They know the pain is coming. They see it as inevitable, really, and so they anticipate it and prepare themselves for it.</div>
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And this, in turn, can sometimes lead to my thoughts getting very dark in terms of how I view the real nature of people and the world around me.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixmDHTNx_oU8jF_VLwfa7NBoyUR-kKbpGpAuhLcjLDccolZKHsBveZOhHu6AiUcreAC5st3mVJWOhcDPntQP3MSIKAzvrktebFjjVotzQNXNa-bU7xTvZbMlZrUogaeVoz5z7WzqETQlMC/s1600/t_7d900beeaca1489f9d913f6b56345dfc.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixmDHTNx_oU8jF_VLwfa7NBoyUR-kKbpGpAuhLcjLDccolZKHsBveZOhHu6AiUcreAC5st3mVJWOhcDPntQP3MSIKAzvrktebFjjVotzQNXNa-bU7xTvZbMlZrUogaeVoz5z7WzqETQlMC/s1600/t_7d900beeaca1489f9d913f6b56345dfc.jpg" /></a></div>
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You see - like I said, I don't care that I'm sometimes hated, despised, the object of disgust.</div>
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And I want friends, but I kind of expect that other people will hate me. Because, when I expect it, I'm prepared for it. </div>
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But I don't trust many real people to be my friends. It's why I had so many stuffed animals and dolls as a kid.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfr05rmJxV7YcQVa4Rsxm1qu8UVvydA0b7p_0R77FkXktWIwjizVhcp383jdHdJkS05U9R1wi6a8N32qb3yyyEPBMnfMHwY0J6Xqq5EZbNgjavAuyrFqHSXziTSTQTnpwfNM1q2rnHDoMm/s1600/135964306368638534.GIF" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfr05rmJxV7YcQVa4Rsxm1qu8UVvydA0b7p_0R77FkXktWIwjizVhcp383jdHdJkS05U9R1wi6a8N32qb3yyyEPBMnfMHwY0J6Xqq5EZbNgjavAuyrFqHSXziTSTQTnpwfNM1q2rnHDoMm/s1600/135964306368638534.GIF" /></a></div>
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Because dolls and stuffed animals and toys and games and rides can't run off on you. They are all based around objects, so these objects - if given some kind of mental priority by you - automatically understand what you mean when you say what you say. They get why you're doing things. They don't care that you fall down or drop things. And they won't suddenly flood your brain with unprovoked input you didn't ask for that's all negative and nasty, within a certain framework of likelihood and predictability.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Because they certainly don't hate you. So there's no hate to prepare for. And if there's no hate to be expected, there's not going to be any out-of-nowhere malice displayed on the part of others that you have to be wire-tense and prepared-for.</div>
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And, well, I'm not ashamed to admit that stuffed animals and toys and games and rides can also be a lot of fun, to be honest.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeXAwph7RR0bsoOjH6RCDFjIB_FEH8qcmmr8MQO_CkApF603_8QLX2MEKkYc9OoLjuQouu9RXCPKpmXYYKbaD2OWrCFEjzPJx5O0MN0SQhDx47Soh4o3vP3N9hWB8AlWCPWkPVmZXJeYJw/s1600/large+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeXAwph7RR0bsoOjH6RCDFjIB_FEH8qcmmr8MQO_CkApF603_8QLX2MEKkYc9OoLjuQouu9RXCPKpmXYYKbaD2OWrCFEjzPJx5O0MN0SQhDx47Soh4o3vP3N9hWB8AlWCPWkPVmZXJeYJw/s1600/large+%25281%2529.jpg" /></a></div>
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But, at the end of the day, they're not a substitute for real people.</div>
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And they're not a substitute for being out in the real, normal world.</div>
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And there's an important word to me - "normal."</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAoE_YnSrwZsTs7VSWuTpsovgYQ1Sj9txc82YJ6kLCtM40Rmgxy-r7IFbTENgAvcgcoeLFkvtnFXRlmyp2q-6PH2vQf-jTUnT_AHwJOigbB0iEq7hx9a2KvoRE677P7Uq3gKdjQyCVKN8b/s1600/img-thing+%25282%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAoE_YnSrwZsTs7VSWuTpsovgYQ1Sj9txc82YJ6kLCtM40Rmgxy-r7IFbTENgAvcgcoeLFkvtnFXRlmyp2q-6PH2vQf-jTUnT_AHwJOigbB0iEq7hx9a2KvoRE677P7Uq3gKdjQyCVKN8b/s1600/img-thing+%25282%2529.jpeg" /></a></div>
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But it's not important in the way you might think.</div>
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Because I have no desire to be normal.</div>
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In fact, I've always felt very proud to be one-of-a-kind in my manner, style, expression, and nature.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZdS-qN0Um0j6oCt9hIL1-hv0n-jNoVnMQslR99sPTb1OUkYejnAGo8X2twAzC-7h170Pv1FrHioYHiUNmEVv7DDrGHFBHTeeaGvFoARFtWYyo-UPiIsZX9chZ7VGtG-tK74uOp6s2zcTa/s1600/1bb40898f04b9049a3c767f55e9af5e6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZdS-qN0Um0j6oCt9hIL1-hv0n-jNoVnMQslR99sPTb1OUkYejnAGo8X2twAzC-7h170Pv1FrHioYHiUNmEVv7DDrGHFBHTeeaGvFoARFtWYyo-UPiIsZX9chZ7VGtG-tK74uOp6s2zcTa/s1600/1bb40898f04b9049a3c767f55e9af5e6.jpg" /></a></div>
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But with that pride has always come a sort of grim acceptance ... that the price I have to pay for being unique is to be hated ...</div>
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... as if this was as inevitable as my own failure ... which is kind of pretty much the most unfair indictment on other people someone can manage to express.</div>
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And which makes me automatically so totally defensive from the start when I'm dealing with other people.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-XE2TT5ZucktNUF-cNyagf64lsqDXQJvEtt-9EPb7Nbk6dvAba0kkCMIoiqIcMvDQaWANqcplyYGJiNYEMXliKJTQrwNg_IS8U2voYIfwMX22Biw_x5mQxL8S9_KUOGQhpsE18gGE1Rm6/s1600/Cat-Valentine-cat-valentine-35944972-500-216.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-XE2TT5ZucktNUF-cNyagf64lsqDXQJvEtt-9EPb7Nbk6dvAba0kkCMIoiqIcMvDQaWANqcplyYGJiNYEMXliKJTQrwNg_IS8U2voYIfwMX22Biw_x5mQxL8S9_KUOGQhpsE18gGE1Rm6/s1600/Cat-Valentine-cat-valentine-35944972-500-216.gif" height="138" width="320" /></a></div>
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Which, of course, doesn't help me make any friends, either.</div>
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And that makes me so scared I get to be afraid to take the risks I need to take.</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
And it makes me even more fearful that I'll lose what little material possessions I've got in the world - and contributes to a desperate need on my part to constantly seek distraction in the form of what entertains or pleases me.</div>
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So, yeah, as a kid, I had a lot of toys. </div>
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Because I could handle those relationships.</div>
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Because the echoes of real human connection didn't hurt. And I trusted them.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyk8TXhuu1muJyJpGDE5JUQlqRgUIZE7L40rdDcAWBxS3BI8tfKg5zxocUwDnwi2HDAFKZSEHc7ID-MYlH7H0vOIJplYbR26md55l9SpkFNFGc05XWqHoth75Jn-QB0KDtizuxUaMGnz2R/s1600/Cat-valentine-gallery_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyk8TXhuu1muJyJpGDE5JUQlqRgUIZE7L40rdDcAWBxS3BI8tfKg5zxocUwDnwi2HDAFKZSEHc7ID-MYlH7H0vOIJplYbR26md55l9SpkFNFGc05XWqHoth75Jn-QB0KDtizuxUaMGnz2R/s1600/Cat-valentine-gallery_large.jpg" /></a></div>
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And they were there for me in ways other people weren't.</div>
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They weren't afraid to be close to me ...</div>
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... or, worse, disgusted by the thought. They <i>liked</i> spending time with me.</div>
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So, for a long time when I was young and figuring out who I was in the world, I spent that time both alone and desperate not to be alone.</div>
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I've written about some of those feelings before on here, and about how much those moments hurt and how alone it made me feel. But - as much as I wanted to be loved, I was too scared of the fresh feelings of the pain of retributions that come with raw hated to take the chance on it with other people. I'm not proud of it. But it's what happened. And, as a result, I learned to be alone even when I was surrounded by other people, living in my own world and doing my own thing - convinced that everyone would hate me anyway, so why bother. </div>
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So, dismissing other human beings, I often find myself retreating into my own world even when there are people around me - because I'm so convinced they will hate me, anyway, that I don't even want to try. Because I don't want that pain, even as I find that I couldn't care less about the hate. So, I amuse myself and pass the time.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp6aUPGEJM9-KvnY6n69oRNxkT3BeqmfUrw54Wv4ZA2wZiz2fqtj2rPHXhXI9nqbTKYC5S3RxN1_jnTzJHsevO7DMF_xdIttBRuud2UP62IoVV99yqfAr83jXesFfAPto2SVlUAiSFbCfP/s1600/Cat-Valentine-cat-valentine-35945238-500-210.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp6aUPGEJM9-KvnY6n69oRNxkT3BeqmfUrw54Wv4ZA2wZiz2fqtj2rPHXhXI9nqbTKYC5S3RxN1_jnTzJHsevO7DMF_xdIttBRuud2UP62IoVV99yqfAr83jXesFfAPto2SVlUAiSFbCfP/s1600/Cat-Valentine-cat-valentine-35945238-500-210.gif" /></a></div>
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And, besides all that, the things I like to do aren't things other people like. I enjoy coloring. I enjoy <i>Transformers</i>. I enjoy <i>Star Wars</i>. I like unicorns and ponies. I like pop music and variety shows. I like bubble gum ice cream. I like<a href="http://www.yoo-hoo.com/" target="_blank"> Yoo-Hoo Chocolate Drink</a>. I like breakfast cereal for dinner. I like breakfast cereal for lunch and breakfast, too. I like candy. <br />
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And I love <i>Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles</i>.</div>
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And I love the <a href="http://disneychannel.com/" target="_blank">Disney Channel.</a><u> </u>And I love <a href="http://nick.com/" target="_blank">Nickelodeon</a>.</div>
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But I know from painful experience that most other adults my age don't give the slightest thought to any of these things.<br />
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And, worse, I know they have active disdain for them. And disdain feels, to me, like hate. It hurts. And, because I associate with these things so much, I sometimes feel like that hate extends out to me.<br />
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So, I fight back, the only way I know how - in advance.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZXxbdlRMCmE8gFcPNKPkL5smQV6X-h4LdRLukW9ErxUze3Qqn-j35QL9edGmMiK6J0mfUphhCuo6mzoVj-l8SfZOsR28cNdYKNQiAQ0txVpo3clXDhTOGOi716fYzLc16EhXUoAMEQP4/s1600/Cat-Valentine-cat-valentine-35945298-331-183.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZXxbdlRMCmE8gFcPNKPkL5smQV6X-h4LdRLukW9ErxUze3Qqn-j35QL9edGmMiK6J0mfUphhCuo6mzoVj-l8SfZOsR28cNdYKNQiAQ0txVpo3clXDhTOGOi716fYzLc16EhXUoAMEQP4/s1600/Cat-Valentine-cat-valentine-35945298-331-183.gif" /></a></div>
<br />
Starting to see the problem here?<br />
<br />
I recognize, rationally, that this is a fight that's going on pretty much entirely in my own imagination. But that doesn't mean I'm not feeling real pain, experiencing real sorrow from it. <br />
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And that doesn't mean I don't still feel like I'm making a fool of myself around people who I imagine always feel superior to me with all my flaws and mistakes and weird behaviors.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIH-suQ1WSBFqCEdSprj4zRVxVrP13g-9Ry-CKJOli91SNBjWrp6PbOlGczedJjxa4MByUAN6JNgTZay8gdQ5c9jx6hCIZs_KvrWnOjfxVCOgc2C2OM_pKP3et3pF9ZvxEqkFoC1hmitE/s1600/jennette-mccurdy-ariana-grande-birthday-gifs-biebs-2.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIH-suQ1WSBFqCEdSprj4zRVxVrP13g-9Ry-CKJOli91SNBjWrp6PbOlGczedJjxa4MByUAN6JNgTZay8gdQ5c9jx6hCIZs_KvrWnOjfxVCOgc2C2OM_pKP3et3pF9ZvxEqkFoC1hmitE/s1600/jennette-mccurdy-ariana-grande-birthday-gifs-biebs-2.gif" /></a></div>
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So, where does that leave me? It leaves me thinking that one of the worst things in the world is to be bad at doing things. It leaves me convinced that people hate those who are bad at everything. It leaves me convinced that people will hate me. It leaves me convinced it's the nature of people to hate me. It leaves me feeling that I'm bad at everything. It leaves me thinking that people who are bad at everything are weak. It leaves me feeling that other people are mostly bad. It leaves me thinking that bad people attack those who are weak.<br />
<br />
Put those thoughts together into an overarching narrative. What do you get? You get a world where I'm a weak failure because I'm bad at things, and where pretty much everyone else in the world hates everyone who's bad at things, and that they're all out looking for weak people to attack. And you get a world where I can't handle those attacks, even as I don't care that I'm going to be attacked - in the abstract, at least.<br />
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And I bet you can guess how that makes me feel a lot of the time.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguIoYhAkMfmVy_gnu1ExFQ66MDzJOEpaWUqH8pnG4KMZPOLotjXnwVrAZ1c9RvU0QZj5DVhKwvZObx4qfIjyM_twmNHVYRxPTTM9tH_Egc_Xwbnp4wlMiQE97w2bhzcVrNasn5mjfXOds/s1600/Crf18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguIoYhAkMfmVy_gnu1ExFQ66MDzJOEpaWUqH8pnG4KMZPOLotjXnwVrAZ1c9RvU0QZj5DVhKwvZObx4qfIjyM_twmNHVYRxPTTM9tH_Egc_Xwbnp4wlMiQE97w2bhzcVrNasn5mjfXOds/s1600/Crf18.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
If you answered "Scared and alone, hugging my computer" - then, well, you guessed right.<br />
<br />
And, you know, despite her buoyant nature in many of the episodes of the various shows to feature Cat Valentine, we've seen her suffer at least a little bit these same vulnerabilities. She, too, knows she's not the smartest tool in the shed, as it were. She knows, too, that some people in the world will be very cruel to her because of the way her brain works. She knows, too, that people will be cross with her when she makes mistakes. And she knows, too, that such mistakes are inevitable, given who and what she is. And she's also usually very unpleasantly surprised when criticized.<br />
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But where Cat is a hero to me is in how she eventually always handles these situations when they happen.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwmoETqltOunLQGAcGQdFtQJC52iyYvMskqCy1Vkk3oI7eWy1egPSlhggcfA5tSBHK_TUy52HOCOtHJ-8gwp074_fygnmT480BjKdWZqkVW5DEXWjzdrirS5laRtDMpArfEqb2AJs_LRc/s1600/tumblr_mgyaol7BP31rrori1o1_r2_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwmoETqltOunLQGAcGQdFtQJC52iyYvMskqCy1Vkk3oI7eWy1egPSlhggcfA5tSBHK_TUy52HOCOtHJ-8gwp074_fygnmT480BjKdWZqkVW5DEXWjzdrirS5laRtDMpArfEqb2AJs_LRc/s1600/tumblr_mgyaol7BP31rrori1o1_r2_500.gif" /></a></div>
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After she gets over her surprise, she deals with it.<br />
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She doesn't let herself care about it. And she goes right on living her life.<br />
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And she goes right on being Cat.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgORPaxntCdhoggv65mdd5r4lxK2Aut5NVOl2GniiJeeIljqM-je3pJXoONjoW6ftcTZTSqH5am-7akQ-ip4zunrZUuu5ejiK62KnVSyLMDXqPviUKJkBvCWdN5WCguyoYcqmonobZONFQ/s1600/Tumblr_mb6fqvZBI21ral993o2_250.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgORPaxntCdhoggv65mdd5r4lxK2Aut5NVOl2GniiJeeIljqM-je3pJXoONjoW6ftcTZTSqH5am-7akQ-ip4zunrZUuu5ejiK62KnVSyLMDXqPviUKJkBvCWdN5WCguyoYcqmonobZONFQ/s1600/Tumblr_mb6fqvZBI21ral993o2_250.gif" /></a></div>
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She lets herself be true to who and what she is every single time. And much faster than I ever can.<br />
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And, before I started writing this essay, I used to let myself think I was ALWAYS doing that, too. But, what got me to want to write this piece was realizing that sometimes, I'm not letting myself be who and what I am. And what I realized in writing this is that the thing that's stopping me isn't coming from this imagined hatred of me by other people. It isn't the feeling of being unprepared and the sensitivity to fresh pain.<br />
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It's this silly fear that's kept me going around like this, for years, in a circle.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuzR42iVdak4WTRr_PLUPHVNVx4Qf_pAqx96NPlHY-mHq0L7RNGkwYM2-my_h8uX3hz6u4s4C2KAF5LVgXY4d9J42tMdCItslbqyQ8V-TzT77VYzw60JHci09hXLh7e89by7WXqVLFJ9g/s1600/large+%25281%2529.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuzR42iVdak4WTRr_PLUPHVNVx4Qf_pAqx96NPlHY-mHq0L7RNGkwYM2-my_h8uX3hz6u4s4C2KAF5LVgXY4d9J42tMdCItslbqyQ8V-TzT77VYzw60JHci09hXLh7e89by7WXqVLFJ9g/s1600/large+%25281%2529.gif" /></a></div>
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For so long, I've been letting myself NOT be the Dee that I am, the Dee that's so similar to Cat Valentine, but who isn't. <br />
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Because I was making myself lose the fight so I wouldn't have to be hurt by the loss. <br />
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Because I was so ashamed of being defeated by life that I gave up first.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMucJ6MK9RBBv3Bo8SwI4WcazvcfvqW-2rTI_mrR82iqxyv6Mb0vGsPYrEgAKbhQM16mlle6LGuISGzorZEHocb-_Kmab67kdT42SxP1xPa6gkIyca2fdMY0imojQpMNuzcbjOxlsnM64/s1600/Cat-cat-valentine-31699660-160-160.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMucJ6MK9RBBv3Bo8SwI4WcazvcfvqW-2rTI_mrR82iqxyv6Mb0vGsPYrEgAKbhQM16mlle6LGuISGzorZEHocb-_Kmab67kdT42SxP1xPa6gkIyca2fdMY0imojQpMNuzcbjOxlsnM64/s1600/Cat-cat-valentine-31699660-160-160.gif" /></a></div>
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And this has colored my feelings about other people, setting me up for a mindset where I put everyone else in the world down ... proactively ... without raising myself up. <i>I may totally suck as a human being</i>, says my internal logic, <i>but everyone else is awful in a completely different way. </i>This way, I was prepared to be hated. Being hated I could handle. Being unprepared to be hated - not so much. That made me feel like a failure, because I couldn't handle the shock.<br />
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And I'm tired of thinking like this, because it's boring and stupid and not who I am deep down when I'm not afraid of being hurt.<br />
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So why be afraid? Why not throw that fear out the window and let myself feel what I really feel inside my mind and body?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQJWrSm0eSrbIim8lc1LF4dPDxBKlZ7i9RWjC_JHiJ36fDRbBGgdjvzVlrlM-8bJ3PAwhah-7LZiu8AsVCoQ_ACZ7ywjF7cfloqN49tiE7YxBzA5DJyK18ybekodRAT4qymbPRcI_isbE/s1600/Cat_valentine.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQJWrSm0eSrbIim8lc1LF4dPDxBKlZ7i9RWjC_JHiJ36fDRbBGgdjvzVlrlM-8bJ3PAwhah-7LZiu8AsVCoQ_ACZ7ywjF7cfloqN49tiE7YxBzA5DJyK18ybekodRAT4qymbPRcI_isbE/s1600/Cat_valentine.gif" /></a></div>
<br />
And who cares if I can't dance? And who cares if I celebrate too loudly, or annoy some people because I express too much joy at simple things? <br />
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And who cares if people think - know - that I'm kind of stupid?<br />
<br />
I can be fantastically stupid. And that can be fantastic.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRIBS_HNm43mT5bMYpNmih13fXQ7i55lwGWpU0LxutsyVdth4qNfhTspXJ86jLTLHMNYwcWqBrj5rmJkZ5Fc34t5zHFvpcK8bR2BRTxAvqOydpwzO5g9JIHwG-K0n_32EGmX7lLZOms6s/s1600/arinotafailure.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRIBS_HNm43mT5bMYpNmih13fXQ7i55lwGWpU0LxutsyVdth4qNfhTspXJ86jLTLHMNYwcWqBrj5rmJkZ5Fc34t5zHFvpcK8bR2BRTxAvqOydpwzO5g9JIHwG-K0n_32EGmX7lLZOms6s/s1600/arinotafailure.gif" /></a></div>
<br />
Because I can't really make myself give up, no matter how down on myself I get. <br />
<br />
That contradiction will just keep causing me pain, like a belch of logic that won't leave the esophagus of my brain. And that's not how I want to live, want to think, want to be. Because it's worse than stupid - it's hateful.<br />
<br />
And I'd much rather wave off hateful thoughts and feeling and celebrate the joy I feel deep down at life when I let myself cast off the burdens I feel when I'm around other people, whatever their level of perception about me might be.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrq7H_Iq6SlbDMHcdy05Hvc-a9JqxExbXADLUUPCqbtFW88W9UGAIRxcIjU9lI6A1_2XvkYAB7pTaadtZ3QLomuzi5U-0TPPH3lcGenLMTFWxmF1AUuMwcopx_rmfFTPZ-tX3HqxOt55g/s1600/35.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrq7H_Iq6SlbDMHcdy05Hvc-a9JqxExbXADLUUPCqbtFW88W9UGAIRxcIjU9lI6A1_2XvkYAB7pTaadtZ3QLomuzi5U-0TPPH3lcGenLMTFWxmF1AUuMwcopx_rmfFTPZ-tX3HqxOt55g/s1600/35.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
And that's why Cat and I are alike. <br />
<br />
Because, ultimately, yes, we both have doubts sometimes - and we can both be hurt. But, at the end of the day, we're going to do what we're going to do.<br />
<br />
In this case, it just took me several years to figure out what Cat figured out over two television shows and four seasons of comic adventures. Maybe she's a little bit smarter in how she does things than I am in this respect. So what?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGu2ptzj6trahuhHZP_Lmig_5mGPHYO56nkc62vn34tSdk4aG05AmAVWWMqTBUjE4Z69pDTRIR2-bRWQ7lqaXnr8PF75v7hGLXbESNNipRi45OEdVrlUmzvtLg2ZFTUm1lS-MWuyMaS_4/s1600/a_0abc238d.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGu2ptzj6trahuhHZP_Lmig_5mGPHYO56nkc62vn34tSdk4aG05AmAVWWMqTBUjE4Z69pDTRIR2-bRWQ7lqaXnr8PF75v7hGLXbESNNipRi45OEdVrlUmzvtLg2ZFTUm1lS-MWuyMaS_4/s1600/a_0abc238d.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
Because, while - yes - she might be smarter than me in that respect, that doesn't mean I can't learn from her, like I do when I've watched the amazing <a href="http://arianagrande.com/" target="_blank">Ariana Grande</a> portray Cat Valentine over the years. Because when I watch Cat Valentine get into and out of predicaments, her attitude has always inspired me, and made me think to myself that I wish I had the strength to let loose with my thoughts the way she does, at which point I realize over and over that I do have that strength ... but too afraid of the wounds I felt sure would be caused by their hate to go "unprepared" into those moments.<br />
<br />
I didn't care about what other people thought of me, but I did care about the input. But not Cat ... well, not in the long-run at least.<br />
<br />
Because Cat has that special kind of courage that I treasure - the courage to stand tall in whatever she is doing and to let the world's input bounce off of her like she's a movie action hero.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDw3czF_unRXe6yPLWDt8-FTFnakkjuWQ0uMB7A5PyX_k9jl-tijCJjJGPcQk_TLknTnVdP_ASnbFVPWdBye7pJmMUMTRgbZ7lZLb1_PRIAmH2jDB4LLcBAdz3pd6u2Sv568tprSaNNkQ/s1600/CatTheSlap.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDw3czF_unRXe6yPLWDt8-FTFnakkjuWQ0uMB7A5PyX_k9jl-tijCJjJGPcQk_TLknTnVdP_ASnbFVPWdBye7pJmMUMTRgbZ7lZLb1_PRIAmH2jDB4LLcBAdz3pd6u2Sv568tprSaNNkQ/s1600/CatTheSlap.png" /></a></div>
<br />
But I also realized that if Cat allowed herself to fear input the way I do, she'd most often be alone.<br />
<br />
And that's when I realized the key to Cat's strength.<br />
<br />
She gets it from her friends.<br />
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<br />
Cat's friends stay true to her ... and, as a result, she can stay true to her friends - and she has real, true friends within the context of the show. She has the kind of friends who won't abandon her and will stand by her, the kind of friends I recognize that I've needed in my own life, the kind whose criticisms are good-natured and whose barbs aren't meant to hurt and whose input can be warm and friendly and not just caustic.<br />
<br />
And this has made so much of a difference in my life, the times when I have friends like this.<br />
<br />
But I don't let myself have friends as often as I should, the way Cat does.<br />
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<br />
And I have envied her these friendships, fictional though they are - because they're something I aspire to in my own life, and something I too often fail to let myself have.<br />
<br />
And there's a reason for that.<br />
<br />
Which has to do with trusting other people into my personal space.<br />
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<br />
<br />
And trust, I realized, comes from NOT always anticipating failure - because you can't be positive when you anticipate failure ... and you can't have a positive outlook on the unknown when you always anticipate failure. <br />
<br />
Because ... really ...<br />
<br />
... who knows what the future holds in any given moment?<br />
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<br />
And I'm realizing in writing this that a big part of trusting other people is forgiving them.<br />
<br />
Which brings me to the center of why Cat is my hero.<br />
<br />
She forgives the world for its imperfections - and, in so doing, tries to make it better, brighter, more colorful.<br />
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<br />
She forgives people when they remark on her style, manner, dress, ideas, voice.<br />
<br />
She doesn't have to overcome an overwhelming barrage of input because she's able to let the data go and move on with her life. She isn't storing it up like resentment, the way I do, with every little confusion making me progressively more and more frustrated. And, you know, I think that Cat probably deals with the same kinds of frustrations I deal with ... and handles it, because she can forgive in a way that's moment-by-moment, kind and compassionate not just when she wants it to be but in all cases, for all the world.<br />
<br />
It's like her forgiveness is a constant shield that protects her senses from becoming overwhelmed, and it's a powerful kind of shield at that. I'm trying it now - letting go, forgiving the world the times it has let me down and frustrated me, and it feels like I'm finally coming in out of a long and self-induced rainstorm.<br />
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<br />
And it means that I don't need to express my frustrations about other people as a barricade against them hurting me. <br />
<br />
I don't need to strike in a pre-emptive way, don't need to - for instance - lash out at intellectuals because I'm not as smart as them.<br />
<br />
Because, you know what? I love geeks and nerds, even if they've hurt me. I don't need to shield myself from them, because I love them.<br />
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<br />
But it's not just one-sided.<br />
<br />
So, you know what? I also love fashionable, gorgeous and stylish people who are in on the latest trends ...<br />
<br />
... because I don't need to shield myself from stylish and fashionable folks who might think I look stupid for wearing red with my red hair, which I like to do.<br />
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<br />
And I don't need to proactively express disdain for social customs and rituals and behaviors.<br />
<br />
I don't need to torture myself mentally to unlearn all the social constructs and mannerisms because <i>I'm certain I'll fail at them so why even bother?</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
So I don't have to feel seething contempt as a barrier against failure when it comes to my little habits and quirks, like the way I tug my hair when I'm nervous or excited or happy.<br />
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<br />
And I can dress up to be pretty, because I'm not building shields against making fashion mistakes.<br />
<br />
And maybe I'll just let myself wear a skirt I think is pretty rather than not bother to buy it because <i>it surely couldn't look good on me and who wants to make that mistake.</i><br />
<br />
I can wear what I want and not just surrender to jeans and a t-shirt because I'm too gross to wear anything else.<br />
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<br />
And I still won't care what other people think.<br />
<br />
But I won't curl up into a ball despite this, convinced that I'm despised before I have evidence, waiting for a pendulum to knock me out my seat.<br />
<br />
I'll simply continue on being me.<br />
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<br />
And I'll accept that people want to show me affection.<br />
<br />
And I'll accept that people care.<br />
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And I'll believe them when they express it.<br />
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<br />
And I will show the world my stories and my art, rather than remain convinced that they will all be hated and despised. <br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Why bother?,</i> I used to say. <i>Everyone will think they're horrible.</i> <br />
<br />
So what? What an adventure that will be to get as far as I can outside the lines.<br />
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<br />
And if people don't like my superheroes, so be it.<br />
<br />
And if people don't like my horror stories, so be it.<br />
<br />
And if people don't like me, their damn loss - not a damaging wave of hate in my own head.<br />
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<br />
And I will trip and fall.<br />
<br />
And I will be stupid some days.<br />
<br />
And I will spill things on myself - maybe even on-purpose, because I want to - and it will be <i><b><u>TOTALLY AWESOME</u></b></i>.<br />
<br />
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<br />
And I will sing, like I always do, without wondering when someone is going to tell me how awful my voice is and therefore always waiting to be silenced.<br />
<br />
And I will express affection toward others, like I always do, but without thinking in my head that I'll be hated in return.<br />
<div>
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<br />
And I will be as gracious with gifts as I always have been.<br />
<br />
But I won't let myself get depressed wondering if the gift was given with genuine affection or out of obligation.<br />
<br />
I'll just smile and say how much I appreciated it.<br />
<br />
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<br />
And I will not expect even my closest friends to hate me in advance of whatever I say or do.<br />
<br />
And I will come at them with positivity in the hopes it will be returned, instead of anticipating total failure.<br />
<br />
And I will ask my friends to be proud of me and to truly care about me.<br />
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And I will wave my arms like a maniac when I listen to music I love, like I always have and always will ... but I won't pay a mind toward cringing at my shoulders like I'm about to be struck from behind.<br />
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And I will sway to whatever music suits me like I always have, but I won't grit my teeth waiting to hear someone yell that my taste in music is horrible.<br />
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And I will do all of this with the abandon of someone who isn't waiting for the hammer to fall.<br />
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And I will dance when I want.<br />
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And I will dance how I want.<br />
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And I will dance in any way I want.<br />
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And I will trust myself.</div>
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And I will forgive myself.</div>
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And I will love myself.</div>
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I'm know I'm not Cat. I'm Dee. I'm Den. I'm Dennis. I'm Dee Emm Elms and Dennis Michael Elms, and all the other variations of my name, both the ones I've been given and the ones I've given myself. And I'm proud of every part of me, not ashamed. </div>
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But, despite and because of all of this - I am <i>a Cat</i>. And, well, we Cats ...</div>
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... we always somehow manage to land on our feet.</div>
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Dee Emm Elmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14053652749413575579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1555007489284044452.post-51784499099809782532014-07-03T21:23:00.001-07:002014-07-05T12:48:54.999-07:00"But when I would dance, all those names - they would slip away." (Raquel "Rocky" Oprah Blue)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBHLgIKYhAVq8LKfQ8QH_LpGmkOSf2edJL9rrDqVT01iYqlbA-gJaYPpGAB2l_WVA9EAEadinIy_ZSqRQowzJwI51cONunB242RwEfmlOiVGs1G4jvWPpm6Kh28KapdlgZWtlFyICoyBSk/s1600/rockybluesquare.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBHLgIKYhAVq8LKfQ8QH_LpGmkOSf2edJL9rrDqVT01iYqlbA-gJaYPpGAB2l_WVA9EAEadinIy_ZSqRQowzJwI51cONunB242RwEfmlOiVGs1G4jvWPpm6Kh28KapdlgZWtlFyICoyBSk/s1600/rockybluesquare.jpg" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i>
<i>"When I was growing up, I went through this really insane growth spurt. And everyone made fun of me and called me names like 'Giraffe' and 'Tree' - and, just in case you are wondering, yes, the weather is fine up here. I mean, everyone made me feel so awkward. But when I would dance, all those names- ... they would slip away. I wasn't awkward. I was- ... I was me! And I was graceful, and ... I felt alive."</i></div>
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- Rocky Blue</div>
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So - ... I've been thinking today about the nature of friendship, and I've decided something.<br />
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It's confession time. <br />
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I'm terrible at dancing.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDD_Swt1TPK1ALyJIBYo8rD2z2PCSsItCnQwj8g1LS8smSIIoSwMA6HmN2d_gGgS3p3ZmJg8P8iX03NaFzM8_biLql6L3gjlwT-UcDn4iUny0kXcqGsiEubBP2GJlOvrGNkV5etPBihSRv/s1600/spittake.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDD_Swt1TPK1ALyJIBYo8rD2z2PCSsItCnQwj8g1LS8smSIIoSwMA6HmN2d_gGgS3p3ZmJg8P8iX03NaFzM8_biLql6L3gjlwT-UcDn4iUny0kXcqGsiEubBP2GJlOvrGNkV5etPBihSRv/s1600/spittake.gif" /></a></div>
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I know. I know. You're shocked.<br />
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But it's true. <br />
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And it's also true that I'm terrible at a lot of things. A <i>lot </i>of things.<br />
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It's true, though. You see, I'm autistic - as regular readers of my blog know. </div>
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Now, I don't mean to bore people as I repeat facts like that so endlessly in these pieces, but I also try to bear in mind that any readers I might have may be discovering these stories at any given point. So, this piece could be someone's first time reading about me. And I feel like I should fill in some of the blanks for new readers when the subject is relevant to what I'm writing a given blog entry.</div>
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So, for those who've read everything so far - and you know who you are - I ask for your patience as I bring new readers up to speed like this.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvve34nLm6LWPs_yselK5GO5e9-WXxKtSCNPBeI9UXg95XXitX_OO5cajM2B-kEV5uR0BIYKnbHrBbFmtMBIlQ3ZNz4gjMaONDxYFPXne9rDM_wT2HZ_mHKX9ytILlrIAKkxo-B6_dVKcS/s1600/previously.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvve34nLm6LWPs_yselK5GO5e9-WXxKtSCNPBeI9UXg95XXitX_OO5cajM2B-kEV5uR0BIYKnbHrBbFmtMBIlQ3ZNz4gjMaONDxYFPXne9rDM_wT2HZ_mHKX9ytILlrIAKkxo-B6_dVKcS/s1600/previously.jpg" /></a></div>
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So, yeah, I'm autistic. I struggle with a lot of things that other people take for granted; things like making light conversation, understanding when someone is making a joke and making eye-contact in social situations. And I'm also clumsy. I don't understand fashion. I don't understand non-verbal cues. I'm bad at routine tasks like tying my shoes and remembering to shut off lights when I exit a room. </div>
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None of these things come easy for me. And, sometimes, this makes me feel a little bit less-than-stellar. </div>
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And sometimes, it makes me feel like a complete loser.</div>
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<i>But, Dee</i>, some of my readers might say - <i>aren't you always talking about being strong and brave and courageous and confident here on your blog? Aren't these positive traits pretty much your focus in the majority of the articles you write? </i></div>
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And the majority of my answer can be summed up like this: "Yep." But there's also second part to that answer, which is that just because I believe in having a positive outlook doesn't mean I always have one, all the time, in every situation - because I don't. Sometimes, I succumb to negative thoughts about myself. Sometimes, I feel like a failure. Sometimes, I feel stupid and ugly and gross. </div>
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Sometimes, I even feel like ignoring everything and retreating into my own thoughts while life happens all around me.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXlpAYOEfIRR8GlZZ390gkltRerPWwRO4S2_tcW7Ntsr3vEVIpJMsD70y2B8jrEvRXOvsLZDH5r8l2s-BEuet6CNNtay3_ZYThu-ENzProt1XuZWfUlPfkrBATohZC8mqllEA_e6r0ogWN/s1600/Dina_Rocky_CeCe_001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXlpAYOEfIRR8GlZZ390gkltRerPWwRO4S2_tcW7Ntsr3vEVIpJMsD70y2B8jrEvRXOvsLZDH5r8l2s-BEuet6CNNtay3_ZYThu-ENzProt1XuZWfUlPfkrBATohZC8mqllEA_e6r0ogWN/s1600/Dina_Rocky_CeCe_001.JPG" /></a></div>
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And while I recognize that my autism makes it more likely - in my case, at least - that I might have to struggle with these issues on any given day, I also refuse to blame my autism for my failures. I don't give myself the luxury of that kind of thinking, for good or ill.</div>
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And so, as a result, I tend to put the blame on some kind of deep, personal failing on my part - some kind of overarching view of myself as a failure. So - in short - I often am literally my worst critic. And, it hurts. </div>
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And it's at those times when I most want someone in my life upon whom I can rely on an emotional level, the way some people rely on their biological families for comfort when times get their toughest.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFXBJlEgeO3kt0D50R1zbL57SxeEwHj0vNi9CNQ-U5Oy3dPX-VrPCey0vclKx-eZOwyCycXwfX-rnv3_d36TQeftPEqPU4XcsTDH9jE-BQIzhpwq2966cQHIRdr5njfZ-68qeBMUkc6Ny1/s1600/Rocky-cry-ty-it-up-.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFXBJlEgeO3kt0D50R1zbL57SxeEwHj0vNi9CNQ-U5Oy3dPX-VrPCey0vclKx-eZOwyCycXwfX-rnv3_d36TQeftPEqPU4XcsTDH9jE-BQIzhpwq2966cQHIRdr5njfZ-68qeBMUkc6Ny1/s1600/Rocky-cry-ty-it-up-.gif" /></a></div>
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But, for some people - including myself - those kinds of connections aren't a part of their lives. </div>
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Because some of us found ourselves dealing with issues that kept us distant from our biological families in all kinds of different ways.</div>
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But the result is so often the same, in that those of who survive this isolation have no choice but to learn to get along without the benefits of this kind of comfort. And so we toughen ourselves to the world around us, even if it's not necessarily a reflection of who we are deep down inside.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ7frlsiewUwnIx1b59e553IyOkjSk5kKpvul8N9MbQxTTDyIKwK6Gh8gndhju5KsiL7T1zg9sbPXevVz1MwehlVaOO_jFinS5jBv4Bo2k4oiXf1lp0tE1d-MqpsgcyLWvDFMBB4QjrZgm/s1600/375993_206664019423228_204772279612402_435093_698458122_n_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ7frlsiewUwnIx1b59e553IyOkjSk5kKpvul8N9MbQxTTDyIKwK6Gh8gndhju5KsiL7T1zg9sbPXevVz1MwehlVaOO_jFinS5jBv4Bo2k4oiXf1lp0tE1d-MqpsgcyLWvDFMBB4QjrZgm/s1600/375993_206664019423228_204772279612402_435093_698458122_n_large.jpg" /></a></div>
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I certainly did that in my own life, out of an ugly frustration with how other people treated me and how I saw myself as weak and vulnerable. </div>
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I even took to wearing combat boots, a spiked leather jacket with a spiked leather belt, olive drab camouflage pants. </div>
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It wasn't really who I am, but that's how I dressed.</div>
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And a teacher noticed my new look when I debuted it at the start of my junior year at <a href="http://www3.beaverton.k12.or.us/beaverton/" target="_blank">Beaverton High School</a> in 1988. I was 16 years old. "Dennis -" said the professor, a worried look on his face. "You look like you're going to kick some shit. Or get the shit kicked out of you. What brought about the change?"</div>
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My answer came to mind quickly and painfully. "I just got tired of people attacking me." </div>
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And it was just that simple. Because I was just that tired. And I had figured that affecting a presence that would depict me in a constant state of aggressive readiness would deter people from those attacks against me.</div>
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And you know what? It totally worked.</div>
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Everyone left me alone that year. I was free to do what I wanted, when I wanted, where I wanted. I wasn't teased by my fellow students. I wasn't mocked. I wasn't beaten. I wasn't assaulted. </div>
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Because everyone was afraid of me. Or, rather, they were afraid of the "me" that I presented to the world.</div>
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And it was in this year that I learned a lot about human nature in terms of how much attention people often pay toward each other. And, actually, that's not quite accurate to say - because what I really learned was how <i>little</i> people often pay attention to each other.</div>
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And how much of it relies on what's visible on the surface - style, performance, presentation, choreography.</div>
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Dance.</div>
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But - as I said - I'm terrible at dancing.</div>
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And, so, too, I'm terrible at the dance of social interaction.</div>
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So I couldn't keep up the facade, even though it was a powerful shield against bullies and aggressors. I couldn't keep up the pace of that particular dance, couldn't maintain myself with the gruelling toll it took on my body and mind, the trauma that often left me feeling so desperate and haunted and broken ... and lonely, even when I wasn't alone.</div>
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I stayed that way through most of high school. I kept my head down, kept my face buried in books. <br />
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I didn't smile. I didn't acknowledge other people.<br />
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I just went about my business, kept my mind on the tasks at hand.<br />
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And I stayed that way until I got to college - when I reached a critical point; I couldn't stand what I had pretended for two years to become, but I felt powerless to fix it. I felt, as I said, like a loser, and worked hard to keep everyone away from me even as I deprecated myself at every turn, cruelly and self-dismissively to the point of mental self-abuse.<br />
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But I didn't do it on my own. I had to be rescued. And I was.<br />
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And, more important than the mere fact that I was rescued has to do with HOW I was rescued.<br />
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I was rescued because someone else decided to care about me - and to even hold me in regard and esteem. <br />
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And I mean the real me, because this person was perceptive enough to see who I was inside and out.<br />
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And who absolutely, positively refused to tolerate me when I put myself down in any way. And this was very new - and very strange to me. This was an alien notion, that I would be invited into someone else's dance.<br />
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But this person was willing to fight for me, for reasons I still don't completely understand to this day and have no desire to demand from that person. And this person fought for me, and against me as I mentally assaulted myself over and over in the weird paradox of desperately wanting a friend but having been convinced I didn't deserve one. But she persevered, this person. <br />
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And she became my friend. <br />
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And I became hers, despite all my best efforts to drive her away from me, my attempts to frustrate her efforts toward that friendship. And make no mistake - she got frustrated with me. ALL the time. <br />
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But she stayed true to me.<br />
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And it was then that I realized something else about people, and life, and that social dance.<br />
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When it comes to real friends, there's no such thing as being terrible at dancing ... because your friends appreciate what elements you bring to the dance, and what you bring to your friends' lives - even if it's not exactly what could be called "conventional" - and even if, sometimes, what you bring really has nothing to do with dancing.<br />
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<span id="goog_1056899066"></span><span id="goog_1056899067"></span><br />
And, at the time, I found this to be a beautiful and comforting realization - one that has helped me keep my wits in times of despair, and one that has helped me so much in those times I mentioned earlier in this piece when I'm feeling down about myself and my own abilities.<br />
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But as I think about these kinds of friendships, and what they mean to me in my own life and when iI see them reflected in the world around me ... I find myself also, sadly, recognizing that those kinds of relationships can be more rare than we might like, or admit.<br />
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And that line of thought is what has led to to write today about a character I greatly admire named Rocky Blue.<br />
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For the uninitiated, Rocky is one of the two main characters on the <a href="http://disneychannel.disney.com/" target="_blank">Disney Channel</a> television show, <i><a href="http://disneychannel.disney.com/shake-it-up" target="_blank">Shake it Up.</a> </i>The series ran for 75 episodes over three seasons from November 7, 2010 to November 10, 2013.<br />
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And I loved every minute of the show, and - in particular - how awesome Rocky Blue is in every single episode.<br />
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Because Rocky Blue is basically who I strive to be when it comes to being a friend to other people while also being true to myself.<br />
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On the surface, I know that Rocky and I have had very different lives. She is the daughter of a father who is a doctor and a mother who is the owner of a pair of salons. She is also very tall, is a vegetarian and is at the top of her class in grades at school. She believes in the existence of a god.<br />
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She is also an amazing dancer, even though she doubts that she is when the show begins.<br />
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And I understand her doubt, even though we - the audience at home - can see that she's meant to be a dancer.<br />
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But, over the course of the series, we see her doubts and fears slowly ebb. We see her confidence rise, to the point that by the end of the series she's quite possibly the most confident character in the entire cast. <br />
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And, as I followed along in her adventures with her best friend Cece Jones, I realized very quickly that Rocky was the kind of person I've always wanted to be.<br />
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Which isn't to say that she's perfect, despite how often I ascribe the need for perfection to myself.<br />
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She can be incredibly stubborn - like I can. She can be a little elitist about her intelligence - like I can. She can be demanding of her friends - like I can. She makes a lot of mistakes in social circules - and, wow, do I ever do that.<br />
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But it's not the mere existence of Rocky's human flaws and mistakes that make me admire her and want to be like her.<br />
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It's how she handles herself <i>despite</i> those flaws. That's what inspires me.<br />
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She brushes off those criticisms.<br />
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She rises above them. <br />
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And she stays true to her convictions and her individual style, even at great cost - and even when people denigrate her for being who she really is, in whatever form that may take and even when it might seem to deviate from popular style.</div>
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And it's not that she doesn't care what anyone thinks or says.</div>
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It's that she's got better things to do than truly worry about such things.</div>
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Like being true to herself and to her friends - and, sometimes, even her frenemies.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAuwmUPtnH7MFQ7egCFOweqlyXAS6iOtOeaL6VVy_XtDHWbsMX6wMNHBvmNwwu45RtlxL5dWMDmgDWDRZSaTy264qktmRiRdDa2WAEIbcAuoltyHPutWpdpFavELXm9mij7kXAHlGlfpA0/s1600/1-973a7897-0c2e-11e3-9062-7637b2d61c06.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAuwmUPtnH7MFQ7egCFOweqlyXAS6iOtOeaL6VVy_XtDHWbsMX6wMNHBvmNwwu45RtlxL5dWMDmgDWDRZSaTy264qktmRiRdDa2WAEIbcAuoltyHPutWpdpFavELXm9mij7kXAHlGlfpA0/s1600/1-973a7897-0c2e-11e3-9062-7637b2d61c06.jpg" /></a></div>
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You see, the key theme of <i>Shake it Up</i> - and, yes, I think even kids' shows like this have central themes, sometimes more than so-called "mature" programs - is being true to one's friends, and seeing through the differences that divide people across cultural and social lines.</div>
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It's an understated theme, yes - but it's very much at the heart of and in the backbone of every episode of the show.</div>
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And, most of all, it permeates the relationship between Rocky and Cece.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9cCmiBqQxSt66oaeSY2DBYTdbiHpr7mEZGv57j95X63K1uvsrsGEKHsxSanyG7oWMEhfkrgVy20k_lq4A8OqggvEVgQI9f64rcb83DWh__3oSrph9DAeF2DMSU4WSXQEt7RTg_LcIPNVu/s1600/21c92aac750ea8f36af8d4c2fb0e9851.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9cCmiBqQxSt66oaeSY2DBYTdbiHpr7mEZGv57j95X63K1uvsrsGEKHsxSanyG7oWMEhfkrgVy20k_lq4A8OqggvEVgQI9f64rcb83DWh__3oSrph9DAeF2DMSU4WSXQEt7RTg_LcIPNVu/s1600/21c92aac750ea8f36af8d4c2fb0e9851.jpg" /></a></div>
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Now, I must admit I have a lot more in common with Cece than with Rocky. </div>
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Cece is a goofball, who isn't terribly interested in studying ... despite her intelligence. She's smarter than she'd ever admit or that people see on the surface. </div>
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But Cece isn't the character I most admire or want to emulate in the way I view myself and other people, in terms of how I shape my friendships, even though I more often than not come to the realization that I'm being a total Cece more often than I'd like.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmaeJyACs6GqfZaMNEOu4uwC65KjMK6LxHjtS0KrEn-IThyfTc7X9meoXsLdyLJkzQUb-4nhyphenhyphenB4x9uOyEnMFMV5-iDS91_8_6-ZlX_6xMYY0nwSSqY7mlRbin6IbfwIT6Kgi-NjzX4hKUb/s1600/Tumblr_lyz6nuWKfi1rp3d9zo2_400.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmaeJyACs6GqfZaMNEOu4uwC65KjMK6LxHjtS0KrEn-IThyfTc7X9meoXsLdyLJkzQUb-4nhyphenhyphenB4x9uOyEnMFMV5-iDS91_8_6-ZlX_6xMYY0nwSSqY7mlRbin6IbfwIT6Kgi-NjzX4hKUb/s1600/Tumblr_lyz6nuWKfi1rp3d9zo2_400.gif" /></a></div>
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But real-life isn't quite as simple as a<i> </i><a href="http://facebook.com/" target="_blank">Facebook</a> quiz about "Which character from <i>Shake it Up</i> are you?" </div>
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So, while the simplest way to put it is that "I'm a Cece" who wants to "be a Rocky," I recognize that I have both characters' traits inside of me.</div>
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The question of who I really am, then, and who I want to be ... in the real world ... is which traits I execute as best practices.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy5ET7fnk3-rHoZG9g8umxOSq9hmDg8ep4CrOybBDcEDILNZM4x-ZXYA2Qu-aI7bUwjYJ-PQpHoCtWB0ntZVZgV9u8cKyiX764hZPn1XpNx3uniGsUmPDioppA5pFw09gWen4oDw_g6ACr/s1600/126461_0482_ful.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy5ET7fnk3-rHoZG9g8umxOSq9hmDg8ep4CrOybBDcEDILNZM4x-ZXYA2Qu-aI7bUwjYJ-PQpHoCtWB0ntZVZgV9u8cKyiX764hZPn1XpNx3uniGsUmPDioppA5pFw09gWen4oDw_g6ACr/s1600/126461_0482_ful.jpg" /></a></div>
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Now, Cece and Rocky don't always get along - and I experience that conflict in my own life. </div>
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I fight with myself all the time. And I know a lot of other people do. But what I observe is that it is my Cece side that wants to run away and hide and curl up in a ball, rejecting other people and putting myself down and hearing only the echoes of negative words inside my head.</div>
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But, here's the thing - it's my Rocky side that helps me to love my Cece side.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYwHqVqnCnAvKcbcIslU-O-Nc02IY4v9ZVePqLIygqeAtUEQq_IihXccbGxcwmoWTJMa6DD9Oh3MLZXdsl07UhDAoDc4i0qxdQrrDJmeMElolBBAsccpqUzm8IbI8XV7gVYGkKABL3UFwT/s1600/ThWER.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYwHqVqnCnAvKcbcIslU-O-Nc02IY4v9ZVePqLIygqeAtUEQq_IihXccbGxcwmoWTJMa6DD9Oh3MLZXdsl07UhDAoDc4i0qxdQrrDJmeMElolBBAsccpqUzm8IbI8XV7gVYGkKABL3UFwT/s1600/ThWER.gif" /></a></div>
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I am particularly reminded of the episode "Add It Up," where Cece gets "outed" as being dyslexic. She has hidden this trait from everyone, in much the way I used to hide my transgender status and my autism from other people. </div>
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That episode resonated with me in so many ways, because Cece - in the moment when she was confronted by the world realizing something about her that she had tried to hide - retreats even before anyone gets a chance to tell them how they feel about this "revelation." </div>
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The short answer is: her real friends don't care, and only see her as the amazing girl she is - because, make no mistake, Cece is amazing in her own ways. But Cece represents, to me, so much of my own self-doubt and fear, so much of my feigned bravado that surges forth when I try to keep myself from admitting my doubts, so much of the flash and sizzle of my most confident moments that also can sometimes act as too much of a shield from my own vulnerability - even from myself.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC-9x95YwOeQ1qQOeafbyGPxr_KqBSKFD251bG5h_c8DezXvZb8Lxh39z9ily3OnAKm6qsFYKwiIMpPO49MhF_rbBwUNaE-6xzaHBN0VDi2jS78D6kjC2qCdHzOJpxQ3A-pel2vIHRV53q/s1600/bella_and_zendaya__rocky_and_cece__png_3_by_xcupcakeglitter-d5lxu99.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC-9x95YwOeQ1qQOeafbyGPxr_KqBSKFD251bG5h_c8DezXvZb8Lxh39z9ily3OnAKm6qsFYKwiIMpPO49MhF_rbBwUNaE-6xzaHBN0VDi2jS78D6kjC2qCdHzOJpxQ3A-pel2vIHRV53q/s1600/bella_and_zendaya__rocky_and_cece__png_3_by_xcupcakeglitter-d5lxu99.png" /></a></div>
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But while Cece reminds me of my my big, loud moments ... it's Rocky that represents who and what I want to be in that situation. Because it's Rocky who is the most filled up with love in the entire show, and who truly loves herself most of all.</div>
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When Rocky is plagued with doubt, she turns to that love of herself to see her through by reminding her of her own worth. When she's facing a crisis, she reminds herself of who she is and what she can do in order to get through those bad times. When she's counseling a friend, she helps that person see the need to push as hard as possible toward self-confidence as the only way out of the downward spiral of self-loathing. </div>
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But that isn't even meant to say that Rocky's an expert in love, herself.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYwjzvf2h5TccJjBxP46i1RbP3VdzVpsYDnY9TuXKaoSNvWq-ziAa_tCBUU_a52kAQyYnm0OajarGq1dP1ZjgMoV35l0z-JFBk1JdZbRweTJNQf0N4YePWzYGVxLHKmvfnAXL03srNyneW/s1600/Tumblr_mkhrf6PKJC1r45tf8o2_r1_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYwjzvf2h5TccJjBxP46i1RbP3VdzVpsYDnY9TuXKaoSNvWq-ziAa_tCBUU_a52kAQyYnm0OajarGq1dP1ZjgMoV35l0z-JFBk1JdZbRweTJNQf0N4YePWzYGVxLHKmvfnAXL03srNyneW/s1600/Tumblr_mkhrf6PKJC1r45tf8o2_r1_500.gif" /></a></div>
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Rocky can be shy, and can be prone to panic. Like Cece, she can too quick to judge a situation ... the key difference between the two characters there being that Rocky most often errs on the side of caution rather than taking foolish risks.</div>
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But when Rocky does take risks, she commits to those risks in a way that I find admirable. She TAKES the risks. She MAKES the leap. </div>
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And she's willing to stand up and dance, even when those risks might seem unusual to others. And even though she knows she might risk ridicule, she goes through with her promises and commitments, and always shines when she does, often turning what could seem like awkward situations into big opportunities for success.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTe3hr2HYkPG0sp0LnhnePHzBjXq9urpieWcWuQvESjZx0sUnQ60CT4-pmGPnh8UQkOXBe7kefwZMQvMOvjAH9vwCU-zpnIOxSyswK_LVuNfVDuXxsMq2TQWWDcJzdBpva7BFhVaY6vvwq/s1600/Rocky7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTe3hr2HYkPG0sp0LnhnePHzBjXq9urpieWcWuQvESjZx0sUnQ60CT4-pmGPnh8UQkOXBe7kefwZMQvMOvjAH9vwCU-zpnIOxSyswK_LVuNfVDuXxsMq2TQWWDcJzdBpva7BFhVaY6vvwq/s1600/Rocky7.jpg" /></a></div>
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These are traits I need to learn in my own life, and they're embodied by Rocky so perfectly that I find myself inspired by her in every episode of the show, no matter how many times I see those same 75 episodes repeated.</div>
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As expertly embodied by the stunningly-talented performer<a href="http://zendaya.com/" target="_blank"> Zendaya</a>, Rocky is a young woman who knows who she is in life and what she wants, because of how in touch with her thoughts she has allowed herself to be. Rocky wears her identity on her sleeve, which is a trait I think I embody also.</div>
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But here's the difference and the point where I must still aspire even now in my life: dancing through the criticisms.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihkXJt-HX-1RK_tj_Ggsjgkg2FDEIioDh3G6m0eozccFq3j92pO496JtfhjYldeU7yMxKlppEZPXje0rfyU-KwmClT799ZC0ym5IuhUw2Dslsnf4CmRgBgNA5gXY8fhKnRvtS5t-joSL8l/s1600/1731225_o.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihkXJt-HX-1RK_tj_Ggsjgkg2FDEIioDh3G6m0eozccFq3j92pO496JtfhjYldeU7yMxKlppEZPXje0rfyU-KwmClT799ZC0ym5IuhUw2Dslsnf4CmRgBgNA5gXY8fhKnRvtS5t-joSL8l/s1600/1731225_o.gif" /></a></div>
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And I realize that there's an old axiom I have always denied, but which I have come to realize through Rocky is true.</div>
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You have to truly love yourself before others can love you.</div>
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And when you do love yourself, you're automatically a superstar, no matter the size of your audience.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLm6hccxO5fgVpaQTuvscrmtvAQqBQsgc_KSNv9XlPBC7qVeFooG7zf5GWwdtTj8LPDmecdQ2QFWcFKnDlWrlDhc5prM18n62GLxpfXBRa7o3PuCEfgru-MU3a5nngmJ_UE8CzN8ngATgr/s1600/Shakeitup.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLm6hccxO5fgVpaQTuvscrmtvAQqBQsgc_KSNv9XlPBC7qVeFooG7zf5GWwdtTj8LPDmecdQ2QFWcFKnDlWrlDhc5prM18n62GLxpfXBRa7o3PuCEfgru-MU3a5nngmJ_UE8CzN8ngATgr/s1600/Shakeitup.gif" /></a></div>
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And she helps me to realize that friends aren't a weakness.</div>
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Because I used to think that way. </div>
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I used to be afraid of friendship. I used to be afraid of closeness. I used to pretend I was happy dealing with people exclusively through electronic media. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYH1g3VHl0KmVEvu-fw_PTEvCz2wVo9g8qgh2_MgHy8U_jTQV-xQVasyjk2n7fwpP_WAC8fQy3IW92D1FpuJsM06aAOjveCcKogHq0DapUf7z31shAMEmICby7iH84bzk7aTN2I8rLNiWm/s1600/Shake-it-up-ep-Wild-it-up-shake-it-up-29936234-1024-768.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYH1g3VHl0KmVEvu-fw_PTEvCz2wVo9g8qgh2_MgHy8U_jTQV-xQVasyjk2n7fwpP_WAC8fQy3IW92D1FpuJsM06aAOjveCcKogHq0DapUf7z31shAMEmICby7iH84bzk7aTN2I8rLNiWm/s1600/Shake-it-up-ep-Wild-it-up-shake-it-up-29936234-1024-768.jpg" /></a></div>
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But I wasn't happy. I wasn't fulfilled. I wasn't content.</div>
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I was depressed.</div>
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And I wanted so badly to express myself in the real world to shine, and to dance.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghGd3-kXkg9dN2E2B_Jc7pvEYS5E1GNKP0gRIbOLhYqP_bKdaiw9cZ8bjsRInCJB791MdWoYcp401n71ujvIYcCqJktt7vNN0K0tfNrCQARgksQ3yk32JOkyy1YdqIr-aa1wXBAE_FLUSf/s1600/raquel-rocky-blue-and-knit-herringbone-tights-gallery.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghGd3-kXkg9dN2E2B_Jc7pvEYS5E1GNKP0gRIbOLhYqP_bKdaiw9cZ8bjsRInCJB791MdWoYcp401n71ujvIYcCqJktt7vNN0K0tfNrCQARgksQ3yk32JOkyy1YdqIr-aa1wXBAE_FLUSf/s1600/raquel-rocky-blue-and-knit-herringbone-tights-gallery.jpg" /></a></div>
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And, while the internet is the tool through which I am sending out this message, the fact is that it isn't the only place where I make my stand with my friends.</div>
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With help and inspiration from amazing characters like Rocky, I've made changes in my life over the last few years. I've stepped outside my door. I've opened myself up to risks. And I've been unafraid to stand tall as who I am - even though I might not be as good as other people at some things, or might feel like I wouldn't compare.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcMu46z7VfOzvYxcS2wbxirnoEcTr-nMo_hyWrxgLwilV2nPy1PfaFMOCyBIdIEXFS2oHaViFzlqa_NKA9mL3zNR-QDNylhSUMjDeg5rrRA4uP2zCOOTrvXgvxcdb9ruaJ0Mpz7J1KHV3y/s1600/Modelitup1.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcMu46z7VfOzvYxcS2wbxirnoEcTr-nMo_hyWrxgLwilV2nPy1PfaFMOCyBIdIEXFS2oHaViFzlqa_NKA9mL3zNR-QDNylhSUMjDeg5rrRA4uP2zCOOTrvXgvxcdb9ruaJ0Mpz7J1KHV3y/s1600/Modelitup1.gif" height="277" width="320" /></a></div>
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But what Rocky has taught me is that an audience of friends doesn't mean your real friends are lying to you when they tell you they appreciate you.</div>
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Real friends aren't being disingenuous when they see your beauty and tell you how you shine. </div>
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They're celebrating your victories with you.</div>
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And being able to joyfully celebrate those victories the way Rocky can means being willing to open up about the failures in a way that's honest and true about yourself.</div>
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Because friendships celebrate both successes and failures.</div>
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And, yes, sometimes your friends' concern for you can make it feel like they're haunting you, or showing up in your life when you least want them there.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKv0ZumxFFpaYcU2i5pG3YHM5nttuAY_aVFevXBzWyt-FJiZCd8L2yZlHqbyx1wx0rNrrRAKkMIVDEqbq6BNlb8JYW8vOVUPQADawFvZS3CNayc46oZYrFgs7mJeXHzj6kMUY_uYx3kqmx/s1600/129304_9372_ful.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKv0ZumxFFpaYcU2i5pG3YHM5nttuAY_aVFevXBzWyt-FJiZCd8L2yZlHqbyx1wx0rNrrRAKkMIVDEqbq6BNlb8JYW8vOVUPQADawFvZS3CNayc46oZYrFgs7mJeXHzj6kMUY_uYx3kqmx/s1600/129304_9372_ful.jpg" /></a></div>
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But it's that concern that lets you know, too, that there's going to be someone who misses you in those times when you're feeling alone.</div>
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And this leads to the thought that being a friend like that to yourself has to come first ...</div>
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... so that you know that you matter to the world, that you're part of the dance, and that you can't just be easily replaced by some other amusement.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNQ0lbG07QxI8biOx63-PEZ2ZDMegpSzjhyG26WquizTTSS-9TnoIDFvC4c1HieB50hPSfRRZXp_SaHe5TKcPo_AHx15SBK1_v8RG7sT0K31-1gdYU7DpqWaTSKib5_VYd9FJeALQsdNn9/s1600/126461_0222_ful.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNQ0lbG07QxI8biOx63-PEZ2ZDMegpSzjhyG26WquizTTSS-9TnoIDFvC4c1HieB50hPSfRRZXp_SaHe5TKcPo_AHx15SBK1_v8RG7sT0K31-1gdYU7DpqWaTSKib5_VYd9FJeALQsdNn9/s1600/126461_0222_ful.jpg" /></a></div>
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Sure, your friends need to do the best with what life has given them - but your real friends recognize you as one-of-a-kind and irreplaceable and precious ... but only if you see that in yourself, like Rocky does.</div>
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And that's the true nature of sharing.</div>
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And that's the true nature of togetherness, no matter the setting or the dance or the costume.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKlb4biKwbw1EjCU-yi2v0szDxTWzEwEiYLU3v6b26t4TWWnniIwclVGUwhgdpq5ueCQsfkVXG3H9J4cPBNkTYQIB8J8PqUL6Qiz3e3af5vyyE5Sz6PLsahJfc_z5bLgs5-Ag_LE-Kv2zo/s1600/1646220_1307778904895.2res_267_400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKlb4biKwbw1EjCU-yi2v0szDxTWzEwEiYLU3v6b26t4TWWnniIwclVGUwhgdpq5ueCQsfkVXG3H9J4cPBNkTYQIB8J8PqUL6Qiz3e3af5vyyE5Sz6PLsahJfc_z5bLgs5-Ag_LE-Kv2zo/s1600/1646220_1307778904895.2res_267_400.jpg" /></a></div>
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And - when you do this - tough situations suddenly become less important than the people you're with when you're experiencing them.</div>
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And - when you do this - defeat or victory really does become less important.</div>
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And- - when you do this - the little competitions that thwart you every moment of your life seem to matter a lot less than sharing them with your friends.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC8-myjzCkkEBOKOzN47RNkDlsRmB2oMxNSHNJeuBnlJnS66vfmm40Xin-hmnTThTvj55QJOFkPAcY0rhipMeOXU4cDJ0yxi-qFmRyctKWVPZf6eow5AcLx4PI7U88qxHUIGRmonrxhdRJ/s1600/A+todo+ritmo+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC8-myjzCkkEBOKOzN47RNkDlsRmB2oMxNSHNJeuBnlJnS66vfmm40Xin-hmnTThTvj55QJOFkPAcY0rhipMeOXU4cDJ0yxi-qFmRyctKWVPZf6eow5AcLx4PI7U88qxHUIGRmonrxhdRJ/s1600/A+todo+ritmo+%25281%2529.jpg" /></a></div>
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And words matter less than actions when it comes to how your friends treat you.</div>
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And truths become self-evident.</div>
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And criticism stops hurting quite so much, because you know it's from a place of caring.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge3IDQpc-V0LZ6ynx47uNwz2-uUtL-yIFTcS12_f0ERZpNX3hU0HrQ-tpDMrNgatUcNkBHSMww5XpwEYZQOQiWMWnKW0w6E2T1aiYFGfOCyJ6qZE1DLUJsiP7t135EzsBr3XrthQHEqAMc/s1600/Gunther_hessenheffer_and_rocky_blue_shake_it_up_mij.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge3IDQpc-V0LZ6ynx47uNwz2-uUtL-yIFTcS12_f0ERZpNX3hU0HrQ-tpDMrNgatUcNkBHSMww5XpwEYZQOQiWMWnKW0w6E2T1aiYFGfOCyJ6qZE1DLUJsiP7t135EzsBr3XrthQHEqAMc/s1600/Gunther_hessenheffer_and_rocky_blue_shake_it_up_mij.gif" /></a></div>
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And - most of most of most of most of all, to me - those feelings you get when you share with your true friends can make you stand tall.</div>
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And when you can stand tall, like that, no hateful names in the world can matter - because you realize the beauty of who and what you are.</div>
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And when you can do that, all you see is love you share in the world with the people who care about you.</div>
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Dee Emm Elmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14053652749413575579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1555007489284044452.post-38381780945360943952014-06-02T01:55:00.002-07:002014-07-03T21:34:54.750-07:00"Tonight, I'll prove myself worthy!" (Danielle Moonstar)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
"Tonight, I'll prove myself worthy!' <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuLvIp9jp3mbTQLhS7b-l7Xe-PrOqd4ctUoCb3jHGPZYwQtYghs4XYeYEthJ1LHWDpJYq9uQA1oRUXFwcH9o30MgeMwhLsg1A9T3-HRSzHnQ2h1igjINpNLkYZBKUiB4Ii8BEmTx5456n4/s1600/bill_sienkiewicz_demon_bear_dani_moonstar_mirage_sketch_heroes_con_2013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuLvIp9jp3mbTQLhS7b-l7Xe-PrOqd4ctUoCb3jHGPZYwQtYghs4XYeYEthJ1LHWDpJYq9uQA1oRUXFwcH9o30MgeMwhLsg1A9T3-HRSzHnQ2h1igjINpNLkYZBKUiB4Ii8BEmTx5456n4/s1600/bill_sienkiewicz_demon_bear_dani_moonstar_mirage_sketch_heroes_con_2013.jpg" /></a></div>
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I have nightmares ... a lot. </div>
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If you've read various posts I've written on here that deal with some of the more unpleasant elements of my past, then that might not surprise you. <br />
<br />
I've dealt with my share of monsters in my real life.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_mzL1STBl6mUhksp85Oxj7OjmyoDk7vcGU_2Wzy493mLyMarl102tV5SlD_-ya_0nXdhyZfWT8e76Ea_CwPTe9LzQiUb4ox6MEsPpCwka3ET_ZzDYBrkP-ZbAp-cJXz9vJ5ry79LYDkGX/s1600/tumblr_n3zvlz1rJp1shdts2o1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_mzL1STBl6mUhksp85Oxj7OjmyoDk7vcGU_2Wzy493mLyMarl102tV5SlD_-ya_0nXdhyZfWT8e76Ea_CwPTe9LzQiUb4ox6MEsPpCwka3ET_ZzDYBrkP-ZbAp-cJXz9vJ5ry79LYDkGX/s1600/tumblr_n3zvlz1rJp1shdts2o1_500.jpg" /></a></div>
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But so have a lot of us. <br />
<br />
So many of us know what it's like to feel hunted.<br />
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We can feel hunted when we watch movies. We can feel hunted when we watch TV commercials about movies. We can feel hunted when we watch TV. We can feel hunted when we watch commercials. We can feel hunted when we're at the grocery store to buy products advertised in commercials. We can feel hunted when we go out to any kind of store. We can feel hunted when we go out anywhere. We can feel hunted when we go outside. And we can feel hunted in our dreams and nightmares.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUKknhnvpofo7XEi8xBJlNXthVDxqHcaZBr-XONw6QPlLETeaSe-WKVytahALCqVB-nDRGZ_TQNl7YY97435nqR3V487v2YgQJbm6jjzjKVWZ5JcsakuuXK0dcET0Yqw3cXWH_jAcuhGTY/s1600/p2_newmutants18_preview.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUKknhnvpofo7XEi8xBJlNXthVDxqHcaZBr-XONw6QPlLETeaSe-WKVytahALCqVB-nDRGZ_TQNl7YY97435nqR3V487v2YgQJbm6jjzjKVWZ5JcsakuuXK0dcET0Yqw3cXWH_jAcuhGTY/s1600/p2_newmutants18_preview.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
Now, I know I make a lot of lists like that in my blog posts. I lay out point after point and scenario after scenario, all in one big paragraph, pointing out the same contention over and over again in slightly different ways and with slightly different examples.<br />
<br />
<i>Yeah, we know</i>, I'm sometimes, told; <i>we get it, and you don't have to keep repeating it. </i>And that's fine - except that it assumes that people who <i>get it </i>are the only ones I'm talking to. But they're not. Because I know<i> they </i>know. But you know who doesn't know? Everyone else. And so I write, here, to try to explain things to those who don't know and to express my perspective to those who do.<br />
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And that's why my approach to explaining my nightmares ... and dreams ... can perhaps be seen as a little unconventional to some - aside from the fact that I truly adore the unconventional, because it can be awesome.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibCoXkHhwMO6j8B_j25XsFy04AA1e61vwdu68oB2DB3ezm1qMAkt5stzIqn5N36kFDTJaTwXQWMCZ-b1e14Jhfqu_V1HlPzQJR6ASWhG7w4uTEiWj1_clKws-ygfpf3MBVpUlEunTez7Ae/s1600/1593282-dani.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibCoXkHhwMO6j8B_j25XsFy04AA1e61vwdu68oB2DB3ezm1qMAkt5stzIqn5N36kFDTJaTwXQWMCZ-b1e14Jhfqu_V1HlPzQJR6ASWhG7w4uTEiWj1_clKws-ygfpf3MBVpUlEunTez7Ae/s1600/1593282-dani.jpg" /></a></div>
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And it takes a certain kind of unconventional approach to turn nightmares and dreams into concrete terms that can be understood in reality ... because both nightmares and dreams are so often unconventional. And so, as I sat down to write and began thinking about why I do what I do, and how I do it, and how to explain that process to people, I got to thinking about the many inspirations in my life who craft the imaginary into true reality.<br />
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And, in particular, my mind came back again and again to thoughts of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dani_Moonstar" target="_blank">Dani Moonstar</a>. <br />
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Her name, right there in the sentence above, is a link. Do read up on her if you're not familiar.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaHTcdITUeSAEx025LcTvj26u5YDxLxQCJDMeSNWOBdP3xcT5raleoMnUMNMb8b6Qbg_-hgGTKfm6R2Ze266XGPcn_VUIHnxz4aqdzodVNaVttS_hqKccdET9hUWcFrZdkSWq6ff6INpTg/s1600/Dani+Moonstar+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaHTcdITUeSAEx025LcTvj26u5YDxLxQCJDMeSNWOBdP3xcT5raleoMnUMNMb8b6Qbg_-hgGTKfm6R2Ze266XGPcn_VUIHnxz4aqdzodVNaVttS_hqKccdET9hUWcFrZdkSWq6ff6INpTg/s1600/Dani+Moonstar+%25281%2529.jpg" /></a></div>
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Now, as you can see, Dani is a very complex character ... albeit, admittedly, often by virtue of the meandering nature of the "illusion of change" so common to mainstream super-hero comic books. She has been portrayed as severely mentally-ill and unbreakably mentally-healthy. She has been shown to be incredible weak and incredibly strong. She has been shown to be both incredibly skilled as a tactician and amazingly foolish as a leader. She has been wrong about everything and right all along more times in more stories than I'd care to count. She's been a mutant, a powerless victim, a martial arts master, a Valkyrie ... and everything in between.<br />
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And it's very much accurate to say that comic book characters can't really be counted on to behave in one way or another. <br />
<br />
I get that, myself. I get that there can - and will - be what could be seen as inconsistencies in characters who are so often created by committee and handed off to different writers and artists. It's the nature of mainstream American superhero media. Over time, a single character will take on different forms in any kind of serialized medium like comics.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiWsVbsmmTqrUTSl-7gDIXxufPgLlHuA-ZerdmUsVa3WKpalaWB5PJbMT_wXAAcuJ_n00pI3tA9bonpDfVxhhxUZpXgHd8hc7bFeW5hihONEhR713I2cNAkbnihdvBNt4wxrsmXRdegWaa/s1600/comparison.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiWsVbsmmTqrUTSl-7gDIXxufPgLlHuA-ZerdmUsVa3WKpalaWB5PJbMT_wXAAcuJ_n00pI3tA9bonpDfVxhhxUZpXgHd8hc7bFeW5hihONEhR713I2cNAkbnihdvBNt4wxrsmXRdegWaa/s1600/comparison.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
But this piece isn't about an analysis of the editorial prowess, or lack thereof, in <a href="http://marvel.com/" target="_blank">Marvel </a>comics.<br />
<br />
This is about what Danielle Moonstar means to me ...<br />
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... and how, in all her various incarnations, she helps me be a better person.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh55eM2tz8xUlhkM2o1SISroa_IHUK8IXjRXsfF-n-0CiI-89b_hsM0hTBvN0wLrwYeE-LkwFCaQm8A7XXDYpNS2y24-PcXNGrYsLHYARFCX0jOEedRR8XUfrBFs0eBZI7q61DxebIuTF2E/s1600/2hqf5li.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh55eM2tz8xUlhkM2o1SISroa_IHUK8IXjRXsfF-n-0CiI-89b_hsM0hTBvN0wLrwYeE-LkwFCaQm8A7XXDYpNS2y24-PcXNGrYsLHYARFCX0jOEedRR8XUfrBFs0eBZI7q61DxebIuTF2E/s1600/2hqf5li.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
You see, I learn from Dani.<br />
<br />
As the leader of the <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_Mutants" target="_blank">New Mutants</a></i> in the 1980s, Dani taught me how to cope with one of my biggest fears at that time, which was working with other people. She was - and still, often, is - portrayed as a natural leader of others. Now, it shouldn't need to be said that I'm no leader. I've never even liked the leader/follower dynamic in and of itself. I prefer groups that naturally lead themselves without a figurehead taking some position of so-called authority. <br />
<br />
But Dani helped me to realize that leading others doesn't mean establishing some great social hierarchy instead of getting things done. Dani's natural position of leadership stems not from any capacity for demanding obedience from her skills and abilities and the confidence she inspires specifically <i>because </i>of her abilities in other areas. I admire this idea for those times when leadership is, and will be, demanded of me. I'll know what to say and do based not on some abstract ideal of what makes a good leader, but because I'm the best person to handle the given situation where my leadership is called for if it is needed. When those moments come, I'll be ready for those challenges because of who I am and not simply for what I'm trying to do. And I'll know what to say when life throws me into a situation where I have to be the one to take charge.<br />
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Of course, Dani's actual skill-set is a lot different from my own.<br />
<br />
But a strong personal skill-set isn't the only way Dani leads.<br />
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She also leads by virtue of her empathy. And it's an empathy that inspires me in how she uses it.<br />
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Now, I'll inform you - just in case this is your first time reading my words - that I'm autistic. I have a condition that is expressly described by many psychologists as making empathy a challenge.<br />
<br />
But reading about Dani using her gifts doesn't just tell me that having empathy is a virtue. That wouldn't be enough to inspire me, any more than any comic-book character's super-powers could inspire a person. Aquaman's ability to breathe underwater doesn't make him inspirational. It just means he can breathe underwater. But Dani's empathy - well, that's a different story.<br />
<br />
You see, when you lack empathy, it's hard to figure out how other people ... "do empathy." It's like trying to imagine yourself with a tail. Sure, you can conceive of it ... but you don't know the muscles to stretch or contract to make it move. You don't <i>have</i> those muscles. And not understanding why other people do or say things can lead to severe misunderstandings, and a lot of fear. <br />
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<br />
And so, as you can see from the picture above this paragraph, even Danielle Moonstar sometimes has a total lack of understanding about why people are doing things ... just like I do. Knowing that she, with her incredible gifts, can fail ... well, it helps me avoid frustration at my own imperfection when I try to apply this skill to my own life. She helped to teach me that, even with the best capacity for empathy, there will be failures and misunderstandings.<br />
<br />
But what Dani has also helped me to teach myself is that empathy, like a muscle, must be exercised for it to be its strongest.<br />
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And she has also taught me that exercising empathy means truly communicating with other people. It means exposing oneself to the risk of rejection. It means having an open mind and asking genuine questions, even when you know the other person might not be too receptive to them.<br />
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<br />
Because Dani's empathy isn't simply a magical gift. Yes, she has mutant powers that allow her to understand other people's thoughts ... but she doesn't necessarily just make that her go-to method of learning about other people. If she did, there'd be nothing inspirational about her - she'd just have all the answers magically dropped into her lap. But that's not how Dani works. Instead, she uses the same skills a real person has to use, with all the associated frustrations that other people can cause in trying to exercise those skills.<br />
<br />
And, because of this, she has also taught me that - as with any mental skill - being empathic requires the efforts of finding balance and self-control.<br />
<br />
And, here, Dani has also taught me that - by accident, or by intent - one's empathy can also reach too far, extend too deeply into another person, encroach too much on someone else's wishes to disclose the truths about themselves.<br />
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You see, Dani - at one time - had the ability to conjure up illusions drawn from the minds of other people. Then, later, she gained such control over her power that she could craft illusions of her own making and give them the appearance of real three-dimensional objects. <br />
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In other words, she could take dreams and turn them into something resembling reality.<br />
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And that resonates with me. Because, as should be obvious, I'm a writer.<br />
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<br />
And writers turn their own imaginations into a semblance of reality every time they put words to the page.<br />
<br />
That's what being a writer means - to me. <br />
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It means pulling elements of non-existent imagination out into the real world, even if they take the form of your worst nightmares or most private dreams.<br />
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But, as Dani shows, there's a cost to it. <br />
<br />
There's a cost to being so creative ... and that's that giving greater life to your dreams and nightmares can lead to your being haunted even more by them.<br />
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In fact, it's where we're most haunted in ourselves that we can reflect on the greatest truths.<br />
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<br />
In fact, a writer must go back again and again to those most haunting and terrifying places within themselves and within the world around them to delve into these important and hidden truths. <br />
<br />
Even when writers are writing the lightest and silliest stories, we are often dealing with real aspects of our real thoughts and lives. <br />
<br />
We have to prove ourselves every night when we close our eyes and face our fears, whether it's the primal fear of the dark or the fear of those around us causing us harm or of the harm we've done or might do to ourselves. It could be fear of being alone. It could be fear of being connected to other human beings, or of society itself. It could be fear of rejection - or, heck, even acceptance - at the hands and words of our fellow humans.<br />
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<br />
But what we have to remember is that we <i>are</i> human. The whole idea of mutants is a metaphor. The Sentinels know it - mutants are humans. Humans are mutants. We are us. <br />
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And, because of that, we're imperfect. We mess up. We ruin what's good in our lives sometimes. We'll often run away from these confrontations, and avoid these challenges.<br />
<br />
But going into those shadowy corners of our psyches is what leads us toward a clearer understanding of ourselves that lets us stop hiding our faces from the light and stand tall and proud.<br />
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<br />
And there's more to this metaphor of Dani's powers and what they can do - as they relate also to empathy and the idea of exploring and understanding one's personal space. Through the metaphor of Dani's journeys, she has also taught me about another benefit to standing tall.<br />
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And that's the benefit that, when you stand tall, you can see more of the world around you.<br />
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And that's a great tool to have in understanding and observing what you're aiming at in life.<br />
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<br />
Yes, sometimes the footing might not be so great. The ground can be rocky and covered with imbalancing elements, especially in the metaphorical realm of self-analysis.<br />
<br />
But, as is the case with Dani, our greatest tools in taking aim at understanding ourselves come not from outside of ourselves, but from within us. <br />
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We don't need self-help books, though they can help us improve ourselves and the way we use the tools with which we excel in our lives, for good or ill.<br />
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<br />
We don't need to find other people to do the job for us, though friends and allies are important.<br />
<br />
Dani shows me that I'm the one who has to fight. <br />
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I'm the one who must take the leading step forward. <br />
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<br />
<br />
I'm the one who must be ready to adapt, whether I have powers and abilities one day that I suddenly lack the next. <br />
<br />
And adaption is important in the world, especially when confronting dreams and nightmares, because, in real life, you never know where - and who, and what - you'll be from one day to the next, no matter how much you might seek consistency. <br />
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Changes will happen to you, whether you like it or not. Sometimes, that change can make you feel out-of-control, overwhelmed, overcome.<br />
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<br />
Somtimes, we can feel like there's a total lack of harmony with the world in which we live.<br />
<br />
And finding that harmony is another inspirational element of Dani's character.<br />
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Because Dani has taught me that in order to find harmony when dealing with others, one must find harmony in one's own life - and in one's own existence.<br />
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<br />
And it's hard for me to find that harmony. It's a challenge. And there are times when I feel like I'm out of sync with everything around me, like there will never be another moment when I'll feel at peace or comfortable.. But what Dani helped to show me about these moments is that <i>seeking</i> harmony is always in my control, even when <i>achieving</i> harmony might not be. <br />
<br />
Failing to succeed at achieving it doesn't mean I shouldn't keep trying to achieve it, even if the days of harmony are fewer and more far-between than I'd like. Because sometimes things happen that are out of our control. Sometimes, Dani reminds me, we'll lose what we try to hold on to the most.<br />
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And it's when those out-of-control moments of loss happen to us that we <i>most </i>need to observe the world around us, to find our center and our resolve.<br />
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<br />
Of course, as an autistic person, I don't handle change well. Sort of like the aforementioned lack of empathy, a resistance to change is often seen by psychologists as a hallmark of the autistic state of mind. And saying I don't handle change well doesn't really cover it. <br />
<br />
Sometimes, I hate it. <br />
<br />
Sometimes, it sends me into a mental state that many refer to as a "meltdown." It's where my emotions almost completely get the better of me and I can't do anything at all. I feel like I can only ... feel - and by feel, I mean feel <i>everything</i> around me. Everything turns inward. Everything triggers anxieties and terrors. Everything ... well, melts. And it's no fun - at all. And when these meltdowns happen, other people often don't understand what's going on with me or why I suddenly feel so overwhelmed ... or seem hopeless, even when I'm not.<br />
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<br />
And, as a child, I often thought the same way Dani is thinking in the panels just above this sentence. I would sometimes think that - for all my talents and gifts and abilities - I wasn't meant to exist on this planet. <br />
<br />
And - as hard as it is for me to write this - there have been times in my life when I felt like maybe I wasn't meant to exist in the world. I would look into a mirror at the "boy" looking back at me and say "Why am I me? Why did you do this to me?" <br />
<br />
I never believed in any god, so the "you" was meant to be the universe, the mathematical tumble of genes and interconnections that led me to that moment in front of the mirror - a general blaming of the universe for pain I didn't feel as though I had caused. In some cases, the demons weren't necessarily my own, but they still haunted and hurt me.<br />
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<br />
<br />
And, while I never wanted to die, I understood the desolation that some people feel where they think they simply ... shouldn't be. So this was a catharsis in reading of Dani's struggles. I knew, of course, that she wasn't real. But that didn't change the fact that I could vent so much of my frustration in life simply by flopping onto my back on my bed and holding a <i>New Mutants</i> comic book over my head, arms outstretched, saying out loud "Dani - I have been there." <br />
<br />
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And when she would inevitably face off against those personal demons - in whatever aggrandized form they would take, I would cheer inside. I would burn warm in my marrow with solidarity for her and feel the rush of knowing what it felt like to believe in oneself, to take the fateful steps that meant confronting fears instead of surrendering to them - even when there was still so much fear alongside those feelings.<br />
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<br />
Of course, being willing to confront one's demons isn't the same as fighting them.<br />
<br />
And sometimes the moment when we see just how tough the fight is going to be is a troubling one.<br />
<br />
Sometimes, it can be downright terrifying when we're confronted with the enormity of what we have to do simply to exist free from our own self-destructive fears. The challenge can, in fact, often seem insurmountable.<br />
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<br />
<br />
But Dani knew that she <i>needed</i> to face her demons instead of running from them. She knew it wasn't just a challenge, but instead a requirement for survival.<br />
<br />
And I knew that this was the only way I could defeat them in my own life ... and, too, in my own situation, that defeating them was essential to my very existence on Earth.<br />
<br />
And so when Dani's arrows would sing, I would feel like they were inspiring me to take aim at the fears and doubts inside of myself and let fly with all my confidence and ensure that I'd hit those metaphorical demons inside of myself where it would hurt them the most.<br />
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<br />
So Dani's successes helped me find the courage to seek out my own, yes. But, if Dani were perfect, there wouldn't be much of an inspiration there ... or any kind of long-term success.<br />
<br />
Because here's the thing about one's personal demons -<br />
<br />
They have a habit of surviving even our best efforts to stop them.<br />
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<br />
And in fighting those battles, accepting those challenges and confronting those fears ... there's a sort of an arc, when we view these events from the context of history. <br />
<br />
What feels like - and may very well be - a series of random, inconsistent events ... well, they start to form together into the arc of our lives, our successes and failures being turned from nonsense into narrative. We take those dreams and realities and bring them to life, in a way, specifically so that we can confront them. So - there's that metaphor again that Dani so perfectly represents to me. As a writer, I have to go deep within my own mind and within what I can empathize with from the minds of others to draw out these truths that hide within illusions. I make them real in the sense of crafting the illusion into something that can be represented on the page. And, once confined into some kind of reality, even the most frightening of our dreams and nightmares can be faced, if never truly outright defeated.<br />
<br />
And, yes, we often end up fighting the same battles over and over. But each time we do, we're a little more confident and a little more prepared. <br />
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<br />
And that's why it's so important - to me - to look at where Dani wa once, where I was once. It's important for me to see, in myself and in this inspirational character who has helped me so much, that there were times when we weren't sure we belonged in the world ... in order to truly appreciate how much both of us were willing to work in order to survive.<br />
<br />
Because, sometimes, it takes those crises of consciousness in ourselves for us to truly value our own existence. Sometimes, we need our inner demons to remind us that we'll fight as hard as we'll fight to avoid surrendering to them.<br />
<br />
Sometimes, in order to truly feel alive, we need to understand the fragility of our existence and our own mortality. And we also need the empathy to see the mortality of those living all around us.<br />
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<br />
And this is where another element of Dani's story touches me deeply, as you may already know if you've read my piece on <a href="http://fourcolorprincesses.blogspot.com/2012/12/i-am-in-control-of-my-life-valkyrie.html" target="_blank">a certain other Marvel character who is one of my favorites.</a><br />
<br />
Because, you see, in addition to all these other inspirational elements that make up who Dani is ... she's also a Valkyrie.<br />
<br />
And Valkyrie are - to me - awesome.<br />
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<br />
They're awesome because their courage is built around the notion of mortality. <br />
<br />
They come as symbols of death, yes - but not to destroy. <br />
<br />
They come to represent the cycle of life and death coming to an end ... as a kind of rescue, as healing, as a cure, as a means to ... defend.<br />
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<br />
Plus, there's the fact that Dani as a valkyrie is pretty awesome.<br />
<br />
It's sometimes as simple as that.<br />
<br />
Awesome things make me happy. And being happy helps. A lot. And Dani's confidence and character make me happy. A lot.<br />
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<br />
She makes me happy in her moments as a warrior - like I am.<br />
<br />
She makes me happy in her moments as a leader - like I can be.<br />
<br />
She makes me happy when she takes quiet moments to appreciate life - like I do. Those quiet moment are precious and must be protected. Yes, they are far too infrequent. But so what? It just means we need to really stop and appreciate them.<br />
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She makes me happy when she uses her power to craft illusions into visible representations of reality - like I try to do when I write.<br />
<br />
She makes me happy when she uses her gifts to mount a defense for those who cannot defend themselves - like I try to achieve when I write.<br />
<br />
She makes me happy even when she has no super-powers at all ... except perfect aim against injustice - like I seek when I write. And writing to bring justice to voiceless people who may not have the luxuries of speaking out like I do - out of situation, or fear, or pressures or other unfathomable needs ... that's why I do what I do.<br />
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<br />
She makes me happy when she's strong and serious - like I often am.<br />
<br />
She makes me happy when she's relaxed and kind - like I am, less-frequently (but I'm trying!).<br />
<br />
She makes me happy when she's powerful and strong ... and when she's goofy and silly ... because that's how we all are, deep down - a mess of different thoughts and feelings and ideas. Yesterday's traumas can seem like today's cartoons.<br />
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<br />
And she makes me happy in whatever capacity a writer will portray her. Whether she's Mirage, or Psyche ... whether she's a mutant or a Valkyrie ... whether she's having a rough go of it or standing strong on the page in pure confidence ... whether she's at the top of her game or at the bottom of a long valley of misfortune.<br />
<br />
She makes me happy, too, when she helps me think of how I will prove myself the next day, and the next. She helps me think of tomorrow as I go to bed at night. I try to appreciate every breath of life, no matter how much the day made me hurt. I try to find the balance and harmony and faith in myself to recognize that no matter how much things change, I will walk into my dreams and nightmares proudly. <i>Tonight</i>, I think, <i>I'll prove myself worthy! And I'll be back at it tomorrow - </i>because<i>,</i> no matter what, I know she takes each step on her journey with an eye toward seeing it through and proving herself.<br />
<br />
Just like me.<br />
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Dee Emm Elmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14053652749413575579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1555007489284044452.post-51212727411164134692014-05-19T15:05:00.001-07:002014-05-25T21:24:29.385-07:00"We are just ordinary people who fate selected to be more than human." (Sue Storm aka Sue Richards aka The Invisible Woman)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Some parents are super-heroes. </div>
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That statement is, by now, an axiom.</div>
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But there's a critical element that's often overlooked when the axiom is expressed. And that's the "some." But, with even a slightly-deeper analysis, it becomes easy to see why so many people miss that part.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ0FehCExT3P_3IW1uJ1Y-IvttvDH440pcF_SpoNlW4_C4pXquaOBpSat03uIct4_X1MP0aU5BpFwcZ0858BxYimgpgh2avFfGLwxizsn31YGvTFpk30pJHBjvFAqF2xNtwfdC9TDI8byE/s1600/1726519-susan_blackcos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ0FehCExT3P_3IW1uJ1Y-IvttvDH440pcF_SpoNlW4_C4pXquaOBpSat03uIct4_X1MP0aU5BpFwcZ0858BxYimgpgh2avFfGLwxizsn31YGvTFpk30pJHBjvFAqF2xNtwfdC9TDI8byE/s1600/1726519-susan_blackcos.jpg" height="640" width="398" /></a></div>
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So many people want desperately to believe that their own parent is uniquely special. It' can often be difficult to look back on the people who, in one or another - whether in a few ways or many - helped make you into the person you are today ... and find them wanting in your eyes.</div>
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And, even when it's not difficult to do so ... it's usually painful. And gender-nonconformers, most especially, know this all-too-well. And it's hard for us not to think of this as our fault. And it creates a lot of guilt - because we feel like we've failed our parents ... and, too, our fathers. We feel like we didn't turn out quite how they wanted us to be - and we're often right. </div>
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We who were transgirls weren't the happy, carefree, "normal" boys our parents foresaw - we aren't kids who will be afforded the kind of childhood our parents envision for us.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHGbgoTMlpCvP4UDAGE_xMbUFUIp8zofcNehRZNHWXhIOMDtDAAQXyXbHv6A3D_N64kY7dZo09vrs_xvQyzXbaEJV0n1TFHDozG8Gz5UnFyZaosPE4Vm0qUuNY5TBWFiRCJ4SOpuMuu4Bb/s1600/757308-franklin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHGbgoTMlpCvP4UDAGE_xMbUFUIp8zofcNehRZNHWXhIOMDtDAAQXyXbHv6A3D_N64kY7dZo09vrs_xvQyzXbaEJV0n1TFHDozG8Gz5UnFyZaosPE4Vm0qUuNY5TBWFiRCJ4SOpuMuu4Bb/s1600/757308-franklin.jpg" height="640" width="419" /></a></div>
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And that concept extends toward any kind of childhood where A doesn't exactly equal A. Kids like that - we're different. We're bizarre. We're inexplicable. We're difficult. We're challenging. We're blasphemous. We're weak. We're puzzling. We're complicated. We're wrong. We're dangerous. We're weird.</div>
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In other words ... </div>
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... we're mutants.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQfLZ1Lu83QZNUtABJlFsIS_93iHrdbIxsoG9mRrF_jJAG8pjoKFNVz-uhyphenhyphenMiQsBdY0GUddXWhhHYVLAfFFnpM3frG_BIVhdxE9KYeyqPoReTtpdl6zvtIyIu50Dxl95s9CeIiTdXoMMsm/s1600/powerfrank.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQfLZ1Lu83QZNUtABJlFsIS_93iHrdbIxsoG9mRrF_jJAG8pjoKFNVz-uhyphenhyphenMiQsBdY0GUddXWhhHYVLAfFFnpM3frG_BIVhdxE9KYeyqPoReTtpdl6zvtIyIu50Dxl95s9CeIiTdXoMMsm/s1600/powerfrank.jpg" height="640" width="528" /></a></div>
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And a mutation, by virtue of their unfamiliarity to a parent, is often<i> scary. </i>And it's that fear that leads to everything else, to all the problems a parent faces. Look at every one of the descriptors in the paragraph above and consider them. Add " <i>... because we're scary</i>" to each one, and realize that those are the feelings that run through many parents' minds when a transgirl reveals who she really is to the people who are raising her.</div>
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Because, suddenly, all bets are seemingly off for the parents of a transgirl. Depending on the environment in which the parents, themselves, were raised, the whole set of preconceived ideas about what it means to be a parent might go out the window. It's uncharted territory for many parents, dealing with their peculiar and particular little mutants. This, too, is <i>scary - </i>because, often rather suddenly, the trail has no signposts.</div>
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And it's especially difficult, too, because transgender children are often trying to figure out who they are in life even as their parents are dealing with all these issues of unfamiliarity and fear. And, when we figure it out, that often becomes even more frightening for our parents - because they start thinking about the foundations upon which our future will be built - regardless of the legacy our parents want to leave behind in the world.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjH6z8jAyFV1CXbUNmkvESpgL3TcRdO_AgUR4czrM9E7xROb4Yzl_JiqaRKg3FM45WeyyQ5KgTs-mc2g_nt8SBHXYW6-QJIMvGO_zQPaR8tDvPwQbrpezU0BhQZRzs2k0MYxxZ37HfDXkH/s1600/2750198-franklin___valeria_ff__1_2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjH6z8jAyFV1CXbUNmkvESpgL3TcRdO_AgUR4czrM9E7xROb4Yzl_JiqaRKg3FM45WeyyQ5KgTs-mc2g_nt8SBHXYW6-QJIMvGO_zQPaR8tDvPwQbrpezU0BhQZRzs2k0MYxxZ37HfDXkH/s1600/2750198-franklin___valeria_ff__1_2.png" height="328" width="640" /></a></div>
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And so come the question every parent asks when they find out their child is gender-nonconforming. And these two questions can get the average parent completely stuck. They're like gateways that not everyone can pass through. They define the differences - when it comes to kids who are gender-nonconforming ... between average parents, good parents, great parents ... and parents who are super-heroes.</div>
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And the first question is often the most painful for the parent:</div>
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<i>Am I the villain in all of this? </i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijSCGTJfwnX-Hi7QetTBEMLJOQZPkhlWQgiY7Sdh_k9RiBCronkTyQIgkrHvDIsObmGeDKhGX2S9PnhMEBLNIBC3nflKkf1JCiRL7RhJy36KUgXQ9wpmMVuG-07v9HSdzkxBR5IfX33AZL/s1600/momvillain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijSCGTJfwnX-Hi7QetTBEMLJOQZPkhlWQgiY7Sdh_k9RiBCronkTyQIgkrHvDIsObmGeDKhGX2S9PnhMEBLNIBC3nflKkf1JCiRL7RhJy36KUgXQ9wpmMVuG-07v9HSdzkxBR5IfX33AZL/s1600/momvillain.jpg" height="640" width="406" /></a></div>
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This process of thought is, of course, predicated on the idea that there has to be a villain in a situation where a parent has a gender-nonconforming child. </div>
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And bad parents don't often get beyond this point. Bad parents don't even get to the second question. They get lost in the first one. They end up spending a lifetime of regret looking for a villain to blame for their gender-conconforming child.</div>
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And that's tragic - because there there isn't a villain. There's absolutely no villain - not even an X chromosome that ends up turning into a Y when it shouldn't. There's no villain, even when a brain's function and structure and behavior matches one gender's but other parts of the body match another's. There's no malice in the factors that lead to a kid who doesn't conform to his gender. And there's no villain, even when a child is facing challenges in the world that the parent never expected they would have to face. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5m6hDzAaS9LU-mGkMG-TsEcYyENpNOW6H9DzOwRszD6Qom2VJrQk9ReNmLAEmD1rfCB1rq4XZERQ2esaK4GKcFnBbzqhvDXA1-6vMKoeC1bkCC9-Q3Tb08Wzcx_FeUsS_wh4NA1dMQHGK/s1600/valfantasticfour4.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5m6hDzAaS9LU-mGkMG-TsEcYyENpNOW6H9DzOwRszD6Qom2VJrQk9ReNmLAEmD1rfCB1rq4XZERQ2esaK4GKcFnBbzqhvDXA1-6vMKoeC1bkCC9-Q3Tb08Wzcx_FeUsS_wh4NA1dMQHGK/s1600/valfantasticfour4.png" height="640" width="634" /></a></div>
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But good parents emerge out of the miasma of that question in recognizing that it's nobody's fault - but also recognizing that a gender-nonconforming child surely <i>will </i>face challenges in a world that isn't built expressly for gender-nonconforming kids.</div>
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Which leads these parents to the second question.</div>
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<i>What do I do now?</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT9ZeDgqdnS-7Nf6D63yZb0TAm-Wvf1VKVolJTWfNbwXNC_Hhl8SUTKT-_WYYm1zMJQNWUi0cTE_RRVWXqR8Z5Xx7f8hpGlQCE8iHdFjaBWzE2MJYkRt5SbEzSfePZwkcztV8ZCNlWZJqX/s1600/tumblr_inline_mk318yFxNS1qz4rgp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT9ZeDgqdnS-7Nf6D63yZb0TAm-Wvf1VKVolJTWfNbwXNC_Hhl8SUTKT-_WYYm1zMJQNWUi0cTE_RRVWXqR8Z5Xx7f8hpGlQCE8iHdFjaBWzE2MJYkRt5SbEzSfePZwkcztV8ZCNlWZJqX/s1600/tumblr_inline_mk318yFxNS1qz4rgp.jpg" height="640" width="560" /></a></div>
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And it's true that, even after reaching this second gateway into understanding, many parents continue to blame themselves - only, for those who make it this far, it's often more about not having all the answers than guilt for what has actually happened. These are parents who want to know, in advance, what all the right answers are in raising their child ... and who feel the extra pressure of the fact that their child is gender-nonconforming. </div>
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And parents who are more than good - who are truly great parents - realize that there aren't any easy answers to that second question. And great parents accept this even as they suffer through those difficult times with their kids. </div>
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And all kids - whether or not they conform to their gender - are going to be disappointed in their parents from time to time - even if their parents are great parents.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-UiqJcO0YkEBZHUZqX1zN9avPAegHMttJY1VIysrWaIYmVgxsnJzzCjgkwmcFcd-8v8eK65bbeVUCZ1eL58VdekNMtXcY-p8LEl5FYw1fkIgHL7amRNqE9qlnNB_wT0lXPmZIO4fST21U/s1600/tumblr_static_tumblr_mq3cootdve1sphfn8o1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-UiqJcO0YkEBZHUZqX1zN9avPAegHMttJY1VIysrWaIYmVgxsnJzzCjgkwmcFcd-8v8eK65bbeVUCZ1eL58VdekNMtXcY-p8LEl5FYw1fkIgHL7amRNqE9qlnNB_wT0lXPmZIO4fST21U/s1600/tumblr_static_tumblr_mq3cootdve1sphfn8o1_500.jpg" height="640" width="600" /></a></div>
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But kids are smart. </div>
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Kids know when parents give up ... and when parents fight on, to get it right.</div>
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And kids know what real apologies - and real commitments - from parents really sound like.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghipOE7-64dOhnsUlReG9RysPGajIkxlyA9ECaWKaexQdWwGzbMW-8TWhMvtnalK6clJaZURYbjFneAfnkel941YlkeZ3m8r4gfYnIfTsKiXTgYSh1lQFxJY99FPpkwYd965Qk53xGrpq9/s1600/mutantpower.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghipOE7-64dOhnsUlReG9RysPGajIkxlyA9ECaWKaexQdWwGzbMW-8TWhMvtnalK6clJaZURYbjFneAfnkel941YlkeZ3m8r4gfYnIfTsKiXTgYSh1lQFxJY99FPpkwYd965Qk53xGrpq9/s1600/mutantpower.jpg" height="336" width="640" /></a></div>
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But even the best-made plans don't make for super-hero parents.</div>
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Because being a super-hero parent isn't about getting this step right. That makes for great parents, yes.</div>
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But superhero parents? The gateway into becoming a super-hero parent is tougher than that. It's a bigger responsibility. It requires more energy and more work and more commitment and more dedication even with the recognition of the risks involved - even at great personal cost.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_dPMBFv-IN_JhTR6AxL5e_TCMlrz-iyoPg4wndyMfsJ_eY_1HChsqbg1lYhYkSWnOwTTBqEJQFmnE2cdqsUEsxchzoqOqy57nY58mh0QkTYha-GP01rdWwciaKaNvwKnSOGGNKP_5zM4M/s1600/udoom3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_dPMBFv-IN_JhTR6AxL5e_TCMlrz-iyoPg4wndyMfsJ_eY_1HChsqbg1lYhYkSWnOwTTBqEJQFmnE2cdqsUEsxchzoqOqy57nY58mh0QkTYha-GP01rdWwciaKaNvwKnSOGGNKP_5zM4M/s1600/udoom3.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
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So - what's the critical difference between these gateways?</div>
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Average parents have a kid. Good parents make the most of the life they and their kids are given in this world. Great parents fight for their kids. But real, honest-to-goodness super-hero parents? They're the ones who take the experiences of their own parenting lives - all their joy, pain, tragedy, triumph, hope, fear, anxiety and strength ... and use all that energy to try to make the rest of the world outside their homes a better place for not just their kid, but all kids.</div>
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But that leads to a question of my own: <i>what is it that makes these super-hero parents capable of being super-heroes in the first place?</i></div>
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It's certainly not so simple an explanation as an easy, one-word explanation like "kindness," "generosity," or "fairness."</div>
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Super-hero parents can say things kids don't always want to hear. They can - and do - force difficult truths out into the open. They are people who are on a particular kind of mission in life when they reach out to help others. But it's still a mission - and the words sometimes hurt. Super-hero parents aren't afraid to tell us when we're wrong. And they tell us often - because we're often wrong.</div>
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And they tell us when we're wrong because they are protecting us every minute of every day - and, by <i>us</i>, I mean <i>all of us</i>. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKLIZeOfCJKwOdMRgdZSOuUGNsJdPiZI-_d2rl60-zfvwYoiaErxV2IumTalQXq_plXbuHus_733GxGJuChWo9hHhpCi1a3ujiNwx_b6N0AqqEKzrwelWPEgiZ1LlTIKDr7Cj3FGqAeevI/s1600/Cover_for_Marvel_Knights_-4-%252C_no._5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKLIZeOfCJKwOdMRgdZSOuUGNsJdPiZI-_d2rl60-zfvwYoiaErxV2IumTalQXq_plXbuHus_733GxGJuChWo9hHhpCi1a3ujiNwx_b6N0AqqEKzrwelWPEgiZ1LlTIKDr7Cj3FGqAeevI/s1600/Cover_for_Marvel_Knights_-4-%252C_no._5.jpg" height="640" width="422" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It's one thing to recognize that your own child needs to be protected. That's not parenting; that's instinct. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But to reach out toward all the children in the world who might benefit from protection - to stand up and refuse to let kids other than your own be hurt ... that's being a super-hero.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It's not just keeping yourself and your child safe. It's about shielding the rest of the world, too.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3TBBxhrmjhJC3CTqBo2k2urn3uZumEicBPRf0HdKRIMAYrbc54ZDzMx89hfwEpw-p4cbGXLuiIxDR8M5yYNu8N0uOudNlgcjdx8pbYfVjgrxyMvYC6LUcs1WKIS2ueIhJ_0V49GNGklBC/s1600/windriderx23s_Invisible_woman_by_skulljammer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3TBBxhrmjhJC3CTqBo2k2urn3uZumEicBPRf0HdKRIMAYrbc54ZDzMx89hfwEpw-p4cbGXLuiIxDR8M5yYNu8N0uOudNlgcjdx8pbYfVjgrxyMvYC6LUcs1WKIS2ueIhJ_0V49GNGklBC/s1600/windriderx23s_Invisible_woman_by_skulljammer.jpg" height="640" width="502" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And more than just shielding the rest of the world ... it's about where those shields come from.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Great parents can hold up shields and protect their kids ... and even, sometimes, the kids of other people's families by happenstance or coincidence or societal bonds. But for there to be a way that a parent can help protect and safeguard all the children of the world? No such shields often exist. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And that's why super-hero parents make their own.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3L99JBUnP_YVTxcMztBqQWxS-uZJckvWEAnXQ6-lR57fYQK6GhJ2k3Hs-55xgthtuVXE6NqUoERalIDEIuby4WlhhkAbMzwFadCfb7LRcS4H7myj0Avfyvs5KC0rvOHOlCobGsya2B7Vl/s1600/uploads_0fa141a4-b75f-44d1-aefe-ffe8ac5607f3-Susan_Storms_Comics.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3L99JBUnP_YVTxcMztBqQWxS-uZJckvWEAnXQ6-lR57fYQK6GhJ2k3Hs-55xgthtuVXE6NqUoERalIDEIuby4WlhhkAbMzwFadCfb7LRcS4H7myj0Avfyvs5KC0rvOHOlCobGsya2B7Vl/s1600/uploads_0fa141a4-b75f-44d1-aefe-ffe8ac5607f3-Susan_Storms_Comics.jpg" height="640" width="496" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Super-hero parents are the ones who build a shield out of nothing to protect all children, not just their own. They build them out of the energies that burn within them. They build them from the experiences and pains of the past. They build them from their fiery dedication to a better world. They build them out of the pain they experience on Earth, perhaps from their own lives ... or perhaps from the empathy they feel when their own children suffer ... or when the children of others suffer.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Their power is one of the purest - and noblest - application of the concept of<i> defense.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And they defend because it's the right thing to do - no matter who is being defended, like them or not.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4cpxiSFgzxt1ntIjBZGbv0FjQMqYCCV-3MhTCdIW22cX_yekyWIlB1iMzb2wniueGNZNRVkrtqqEi0rEyCOK_02d6-L8kzYD_w4ErmJEfXWY5y1IJ_jiHJMHkxOVQJ7RyxWod-XzXHHjc/s1600/PICT0125.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4cpxiSFgzxt1ntIjBZGbv0FjQMqYCCV-3MhTCdIW22cX_yekyWIlB1iMzb2wniueGNZNRVkrtqqEi0rEyCOK_02d6-L8kzYD_w4ErmJEfXWY5y1IJ_jiHJMHkxOVQJ7RyxWod-XzXHHjc/s1600/PICT0125.jpg" height="406" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
And a super-hero parent recognizes that this function of being a defender for their own children and for others' is an ongoing process. <br />
<br />
It isn't something that just comes out of nowhere. And these parents recognize that it is a product of <i>all </i>of those tough life-experiences, not just the ones they can't figure out a way to get out of or to keep their child from experiencing. They recognize that they, themselves, are a work in-progress, and approach that not so much without fear but with a willingness to feel fear and to step beyond it. They recognize that there are parents out there who may be just starting out on that road, who may be inexperienced and struggling.<br />
<br />
And, instead of feeling superior, they reach out toward them - even if that super-hero parent is at the beginning of their story - just starting to learn, themselves.<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv5UmaXp3cWugh4pesCmRKMw3rC-TAKiwOtjPg8dVhPGPEbRYVDlwFh1JVAJxylffrXz-n7SsZA1k2njgS-klmJnQhq-PeluXqs0B35kl4FPv2VvkgeR4FDxb8K3DHpnOyp3y0as9fi6he/s1600/tumblr_n3kv4yRO2w1rtpgrxo1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv5UmaXp3cWugh4pesCmRKMw3rC-TAKiwOtjPg8dVhPGPEbRYVDlwFh1JVAJxylffrXz-n7SsZA1k2njgS-klmJnQhq-PeluXqs0B35kl4FPv2VvkgeR4FDxb8K3DHpnOyp3y0as9fi6he/s1600/tumblr_n3kv4yRO2w1rtpgrxo1_500.jpg" height="640" width="500" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And super-hero parents know, too, that there will be wounds and scars from being a parent.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
They know the process won't be without injury.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
They know that they will, eventually, be totally changed by being a super-hero parent.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFqnOaZKBy0C_CEBBiMwAXqlSb5OaLp-9aM7PcG3Hj9vXtohaxXonQnoWJBLHJDDRSOpLO6SbN4_vn5VY7IbWHwogqM9EwpxWAP95uK1YIz01EA905sFu4XZatA3V3WOu87YPIEhyn4xwG/s1600/image-for-j-bones-list-sue-storm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFqnOaZKBy0C_CEBBiMwAXqlSb5OaLp-9aM7PcG3Hj9vXtohaxXonQnoWJBLHJDDRSOpLO6SbN4_vn5VY7IbWHwogqM9EwpxWAP95uK1YIz01EA905sFu4XZatA3V3WOu87YPIEhyn4xwG/s1600/image-for-j-bones-list-sue-storm.jpg" height="640" width="392" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
And they know that the fight will take many forms, as must their shields.<br />
<br />
They know that the threats in the world that might harm children can take on a near-infinite number of forms, and they do not recoil from the challenges.<br />
<br />
Because they also know that every fight can - some day - be won, no matter how challenging it might seem ... and no matter how insurmountable - even if - and especialyl when - that fight is not specifically their own.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXcayYW2cRKYZRK4D8OFf__LkAMC3w4qx4uabKllW14rxw60NNFdgKQ3-I7OtX3N9bdAOjwyfl_VSrUW7JXyTJaxWk7D_aGXnHbSnTkOKvdcGR1f-1-PG97Wjn6cj8tTT1YLNDiWOuqyu2/s1600/fantasticfour_611_komen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXcayYW2cRKYZRK4D8OFf__LkAMC3w4qx4uabKllW14rxw60NNFdgKQ3-I7OtX3N9bdAOjwyfl_VSrUW7JXyTJaxWk7D_aGXnHbSnTkOKvdcGR1f-1-PG97Wjn6cj8tTT1YLNDiWOuqyu2/s1600/fantasticfour_611_komen.jpg" height="640" width="420" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
And they can do all this without worrying about themselves, because a super-hero parent knows that how they're perceived doesn't matter. The act of protection is what matters.<br />
<br />
And they know they may be maligned or seen in a bad light for doing what's right for their children and the children of others' ... and they fight on anyway.<br />
<br />
They fight on no matter what their own shape or form is, or how they might not seem to fit the pattern of everything else around them.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjl7g8cKiUi9jLYfzvBDQDXcbnyJFP5VfmHPfBXNPruezsl5kYn2Kki-zbNIHQFA1rMMtvhXjpckJ8mBP6GtvInHbGX8PLjf7bZsvumSAiRp0VQQDrPRbVE5T1Dat9ijJtNDKt-FKNP2ha/s1600/Susan_Storm_%2528Earth-13122%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjl7g8cKiUi9jLYfzvBDQDXcbnyJFP5VfmHPfBXNPruezsl5kYn2Kki-zbNIHQFA1rMMtvhXjpckJ8mBP6GtvInHbGX8PLjf7bZsvumSAiRp0VQQDrPRbVE5T1Dat9ijJtNDKt-FKNP2ha/s1600/Susan_Storm_%2528Earth-13122%2529.jpg" /></a></div>
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<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And they do it even when the whole world seems to be attacking them for what they know is right.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In fact, they often do it specifically so they will be the target, and not their children.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
They're willing to draw the fire, and then to even ask for more. And that doesn't scare them.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1vh6Fw4r5EOOptvE-74TnWf_xwxK3IAPvIDySmie7FTOWGGuOlsKkJJAhWr0ebLoG4IIAkukra4iMybrGKgH4q460RnifEhICPYA7kku-kzGLCRfiNVRAWSw_VqWAexRn36ursPLbgRac/s1600/tumblr_lilz1dni811qcds6zo1_1280.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1vh6Fw4r5EOOptvE-74TnWf_xwxK3IAPvIDySmie7FTOWGGuOlsKkJJAhWr0ebLoG4IIAkukra4iMybrGKgH4q460RnifEhICPYA7kku-kzGLCRfiNVRAWSw_VqWAexRn36ursPLbgRac/s1600/tumblr_lilz1dni811qcds6zo1_1280.png" height="640" width="444" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And these super-hero parents also know how to do so many different things, all at once, in fighting that all-important fight. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
They know that the tools that worked today may not function tomorrow, and so they are always working to innovate and evolve.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And they know that what was for defense yesterday may someday need to be a weapon instead, whether they like it or not.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvefCaxaGdQA9ItiYqtH7taOGI_UoXw6X0US1hiSFYEeZ1pavpQJIRhEyO7N53D2M5vzrEKSJzyqUujE8Ptt98-erszB0GwDilmA_H_ztvGwnlEyWdDt0roCc65LFQ4ifeSH-4ksr63UX9/s1600/invisible+woman+redesign+COLOR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvefCaxaGdQA9ItiYqtH7taOGI_UoXw6X0US1hiSFYEeZ1pavpQJIRhEyO7N53D2M5vzrEKSJzyqUujE8Ptt98-erszB0GwDilmA_H_ztvGwnlEyWdDt0roCc65LFQ4ifeSH-4ksr63UX9/s1600/invisible+woman+redesign+COLOR.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And they know that a super-hero parent can never be stationary ... can never hold still. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Because the world isn't holding still around them.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Because a super-hero parent knows that they have to keep moving, to keep traveling, to keep traversing a world of ever-changing threats and situations that require the utmost skill - and an ever-positive outlook - to even hope to navigate.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfFsGHPuGPJKEi7XrpXRQCfQxc-k1K1UE-QuZTlpXmSAexNccFZEzkwWx5dDx8kOqRS6fXEfj7nQRHGFoUh0taSqa4k6uuMckRP4E6T52DMDmLgKY46L-Bo3QnukSo4SXITeM9n4GRG3u_/s1600/tumblr_mkf8c58QCF1rpjcyqo1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfFsGHPuGPJKEi7XrpXRQCfQxc-k1K1UE-QuZTlpXmSAexNccFZEzkwWx5dDx8kOqRS6fXEfj7nQRHGFoUh0taSqa4k6uuMckRP4E6T52DMDmLgKY46L-Bo3QnukSo4SXITeM9n4GRG3u_/s1600/tumblr_mkf8c58QCF1rpjcyqo1_1280.jpg" height="532" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So, by now, a person might be getting the idea that I'm suggesting super-hero parents are somehow perfect.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
That's not what I'm saying at all. Stress and challenges and fatigue can get to a super-hero parent just like a regular everyday parent ... because super-hero parents <i>are</i> regular, everyday parents - with the critical difference that a super-hero parent recognizes they don't have the option to give up. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But the difference is that when a super-hero parent has to scream at the unfairness and cruelty and wrongdoing in the world, they use that scream to marshal the troops.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEireq9pveiFUfI46BUEy7zsFKNTqBkupbwouEGcT5jotsi6YSA0K0LGMPIo5ZIH2SSoQaKKwP-RIzflSd5B4Gh9xY0jrNfvAN59kNZ_L6eZmuI-n_qmRV92hvxQHIAv-9xddw_3r5brrNu0/s1600/Susan_Storm_%2528Earth-11035%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEireq9pveiFUfI46BUEy7zsFKNTqBkupbwouEGcT5jotsi6YSA0K0LGMPIo5ZIH2SSoQaKKwP-RIzflSd5B4Gh9xY0jrNfvAN59kNZ_L6eZmuI-n_qmRV92hvxQHIAv-9xddw_3r5brrNu0/s1600/Susan_Storm_%2528Earth-11035%2529.jpg" height="424" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And when they scream, the world hears them. Because it must.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And when they call, the troops come to them. Because they must.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And when they wind up on the ground, they use that as a new perspective - a new position from which to launch a fresh attack against the world's injustices, instead of as a cause for despair.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQYEkSEPWHS1YQxSIzhE8rb9AFNN85k2Xm14rhKEuGxE0cDgNJLuz-72uR8fFwq8sKuM9S5AlMSmlovo6Bb_3czO63i8XRmnhjDXqA5pDa6TAEMiPqAzSzG3GaUYE0AogQtTn0yWpgtdN1/s1600/tumblr_l5yzzxbQHM1qcrzobo1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQYEkSEPWHS1YQxSIzhE8rb9AFNN85k2Xm14rhKEuGxE0cDgNJLuz-72uR8fFwq8sKuM9S5AlMSmlovo6Bb_3czO63i8XRmnhjDXqA5pDa6TAEMiPqAzSzG3GaUYE0AogQtTn0yWpgtdN1/s1600/tumblr_l5yzzxbQHM1qcrzobo1_500.jpg" height="550" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And they network.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Oh, wow - </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
do they ever network.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2JCP8AFaeOzIzgro_NLYsecW8FoHP762kBSK4cZSlROKS-2CW5b_H9pyUFHq-WUS3bSiZi3fNfxd-4BgVjSS5R9zmUlg3LxKtGpNsDFoSBsEYnw6uNUvIdx4_HXWqswhoXVIWMWEcTXWX/s1600/Susan_Storm_%2528Earth-700089%2529_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2JCP8AFaeOzIzgro_NLYsecW8FoHP762kBSK4cZSlROKS-2CW5b_H9pyUFHq-WUS3bSiZi3fNfxd-4BgVjSS5R9zmUlg3LxKtGpNsDFoSBsEYnw6uNUvIdx4_HXWqswhoXVIWMWEcTXWX/s1600/Susan_Storm_%2528Earth-700089%2529_001.jpg" height="485" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In fact, they <i>build </i>networks. They construct them right there, out of nothing but their own willpower and determination. And they keep on building in other ways, too.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
They don't just read books on parenting. They write them. They don't just visit websites on parenting. They create them. They don't just talk about parenting. They craft speeches and presentations and symposiums and conventions and committees ...</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
... and, when it's called for, they even lecture. And they can lecture anyone - and I mean <i>anyone</i>.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcPUs6cJiP5o8kU1nNUIFUgXWFHoOJPxJ3GOE1pqvbnpl7of3uE8qlGoyah4u_TTW5upVl4gC800mtSGlihNJgWJKsakjZfTtXjO1Nax665kxfh32Q_kD6NVmhVtXNx_iHdUVJr88kNQjN/s1600/posturing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcPUs6cJiP5o8kU1nNUIFUgXWFHoOJPxJ3GOE1pqvbnpl7of3uE8qlGoyah4u_TTW5upVl4gC800mtSGlihNJgWJKsakjZfTtXjO1Nax665kxfh32Q_kD6NVmhVtXNx_iHdUVJr88kNQjN/s1600/posturing.jpg" height="628" width="640" /></a></div>
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And they do all these things even when they don't necessarily have the skills to do so built into their histories. They do so when it's needed - whether they know how or not. And they know the results might not be perfect, but they know that it has to be done - and that the process of learning is something they are also sharing with their children, helping them gain empathy for what their kids are going through by immersing themselves in the unfamiliar and reminding themselves what it's like to be in the middle of uncharted territory.</div>
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And, like their kids, they thrive in that territory.</div>
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And they find that they've grown into new roles, new identities, like putting on new uniforms that represent new duties and new roles they never knew they had inside of them - but which they undertake nonetheless because there's a need out in the world.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaV6O7TDjKT5J79UBnkWsTvH191TzoytGJmHCwdpssZiFI68lteEQNcsq4KLao9SZib20s64WPdYxnt5CqGdRgSWJJuUzb-McsNHyUtqlURSYV5FZn3WFs8URhO2TFfGJTy7QThD-v77LQ/s1600/susan-storm-fantastic-41.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaV6O7TDjKT5J79UBnkWsTvH191TzoytGJmHCwdpssZiFI68lteEQNcsq4KLao9SZib20s64WPdYxnt5CqGdRgSWJJuUzb-McsNHyUtqlURSYV5FZn3WFs8URhO2TFfGJTy7QThD-v77LQ/s1600/susan-storm-fantastic-41.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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And what's even more amazing is that they so often do this in a very specific and particular way that brings up the reason why I have used the image of Sue Storm and dedicated this piece about Sue to these super-hero parents.</div>
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And here's why:</div>
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Superhero parents - no matter their roles - are often <i>invisible.</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfihftn5G6myQTQZlg64_OhkLBizlID_28cr9X8NmAjINLK6Ms38QlNMsn64dF66ElzEKAH0g9dkrAgDmbLq1kPTxnghgoEvtAw_jUeUvmrrGomyIeiMlIuNhiMj_Sj96qh7kGgULIdiYK/s1600/Hasbro+Marvel+Universe+Team+Pack+Fantastic+Four+Invisible+Woman+Susan+Storm+Variant+Mr+Fantastic+The+Thing+Herbie+Action+Figure+One+Per+Case+%252820%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfihftn5G6myQTQZlg64_OhkLBizlID_28cr9X8NmAjINLK6Ms38QlNMsn64dF66ElzEKAH0g9dkrAgDmbLq1kPTxnghgoEvtAw_jUeUvmrrGomyIeiMlIuNhiMj_Sj96qh7kGgULIdiYK/s1600/Hasbro+Marvel+Universe+Team+Pack+Fantastic+Four+Invisible+Woman+Susan+Storm+Variant+Mr+Fantastic+The+Thing+Herbie+Action+Figure+One+Per+Case+%252820%2529.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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And that's because super-hero parents aren't looking for glory, aren't looking for fame ... and aren't looking for notoriety.</div>
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They're doing what must be done because it <i>must</i> be done - and it's as simple as that.</div>
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Because no true parent wants to eclipse their child. Rather, a real parent wants their child to be the one who takes the stage, the one getting the positive attention of the world, the one gaining strength and confidence and the ability to look upon themselves with real pride.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0aEM8K9ZEbWH7vCW8P9_nEJG25fLiz2KBzfeyDBlZFJ8Ke0GO1FZ7sq5lVP-Fl8zrQANmAGPNLDMJmfssZS45zHZIn9S6zGUNDkqUp_Pj1HGY4mOdZyHpRXU94NVFu2RhQaion0V90EgG/s1600/franklin0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0aEM8K9ZEbWH7vCW8P9_nEJG25fLiz2KBzfeyDBlZFJ8Ke0GO1FZ7sq5lVP-Fl8zrQANmAGPNLDMJmfssZS45zHZIn9S6zGUNDkqUp_Pj1HGY4mOdZyHpRXU94NVFu2RhQaion0V90EgG/s1600/franklin0001.jpg" height="490" width="640" /></a></div>
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So super-hero parents fight and scream and battle and war and defend and attack - and, so often, do it all invisibly, thanklessly, knowing the only real validation they will get is when they see a world where children who dealt with the crises their own kids dealt with aren't suffering any more.</div>
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And, for these invisible parents, that will be enough.</div>
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But it shouldn't have to be.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDeiI31xGfaLtJQpN31bn458Fg6QQ3ButS2cposAkygqMTiHZCkMogWnvtAvVBkPAoXAiYToLTJnBUUCXE2w1pATN99LuyvR-lb-ymGVbiQdA2YBa4J5FtuC3hJmgyR7p8gkP5mMDA8QPt/s1600/bruce_timm-sue-storm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDeiI31xGfaLtJQpN31bn458Fg6QQ3ButS2cposAkygqMTiHZCkMogWnvtAvVBkPAoXAiYToLTJnBUUCXE2w1pATN99LuyvR-lb-ymGVbiQdA2YBa4J5FtuC3hJmgyR7p8gkP5mMDA8QPt/s1600/bruce_timm-sue-storm.jpg" height="640" width="432" /></a></div>
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We should reach out and thank these parents for fighting this fight. We should join them, in fact. We should speak now, and thank them for what they do, because we don't always see how hard they're fighting, and how many opponents they're facing. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We should reach out to parents like the folks who write blogs like <a href="http://raisingmyrainbow.com/" target="_blank">Lori Duron,</a> <a href="http://www.livingaboldlife.com/" target="_blank">Kelly Byrom</a> and <a href="http://nerdyapple.com/" target="_blank">Sarah Manley</a>. If you don't know who they are, then increase your awareness in the world. Visit them and hear what they have to say. Learn - and become a better parent. Find where you are on that scale I discussed, and if you're average - or good - or even great ... then, extend yourself until you're a super-hero like them.</div>
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<br /></div>
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There are so many real-world super-parents and real-life struggles that need to be shown to that real world. And if you're fighting those battles, invisibility can be a weapon. But, as Sue Storm knows, so can being wholly and completely visible.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHL3XBRybFny2oBjyEKwIK39U1uK66pZQPNHIfdi2c3vcgeFBugl4o3CuicuMPCNGEjtXgg2CMqo_Z8pFrWUrSsDyCyFsDolb67PF4kv81I_yS6d1Od1ZV0oIvaZ7f89Xn-3wRYd_THMc3/s1600/Susan_Storm_%2528Earth-616%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHL3XBRybFny2oBjyEKwIK39U1uK66pZQPNHIfdi2c3vcgeFBugl4o3CuicuMPCNGEjtXgg2CMqo_Z8pFrWUrSsDyCyFsDolb67PF4kv81I_yS6d1Od1ZV0oIvaZ7f89Xn-3wRYd_THMc3/s1600/Susan_Storm_%2528Earth-616%2529.jpg" height="640" width="387" /></a></div>
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Dee Emm Elmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14053652749413575579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1555007489284044452.post-41805586087261386222014-05-04T14:49:00.006-07:002014-05-11T21:15:53.334-07:00"I am a savage. And I will have a savage's revenge." (Red Sonja)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6XOdQ_SaaytYevPX2A1E9rT7gv6aw9-bZ9Jy8dJ91XI-hAcHpxlx5Tqm1S51KivLb30X9UERTyaBvZ9ptQUeIWgZAZTWJwoJGvchDQfQtXPU47NQDxG1F120ytaBy7Kn1O8MmtfAT7cv-/s1600/GabDellOttoRedcSonja.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6XOdQ_SaaytYevPX2A1E9rT7gv6aw9-bZ9Jy8dJ91XI-hAcHpxlx5Tqm1S51KivLb30X9UERTyaBvZ9ptQUeIWgZAZTWJwoJGvchDQfQtXPU47NQDxG1F120ytaBy7Kn1O8MmtfAT7cv-/s1600/GabDellOttoRedcSonja.JPG" height="640" width="416" /></a></div>
<span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Let's travel back in time, to a long-gone era.</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="text-align: justify;">The year was 1985. I was 13 years old. And, one hazy July weekend, I was preparing myself to break some societal rules.</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Of course, in my life, rule-breaking has never been a problem. We redheads can be like that.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1c7U_K9wQwFkQKWvI-CrxLuYJXfVoA3v44CuVbgJ9K36sRl8WT3Ps-AOpry8karutHNussz_EeRTQJgzgN2Co7Azwq8iRWxiN1FjvBR0YY0RuFIOKTi643Zb9bIZtgPU2-iiugQGcLAlz/s1600/a55dedf4905bb0729c8761c5b71bdf54.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1c7U_K9wQwFkQKWvI-CrxLuYJXfVoA3v44CuVbgJ9K36sRl8WT3Ps-AOpry8karutHNussz_EeRTQJgzgN2Co7Azwq8iRWxiN1FjvBR0YY0RuFIOKTi643Zb9bIZtgPU2-iiugQGcLAlz/s1600/a55dedf4905bb0729c8761c5b71bdf54.jpg" height="640" width="421" /></a></div>
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Now, I've talked before about being a <a href="http://fourcolorprincesses.blogspot.com/2012/12/the-cat-and-contrary-hellcat.html" target="_blank">contrarian</a> - and about being a redhead. And how both have led to situations that have lent themselves toward me becoming kind of a social rebel. </div>
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<br /></div>
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I've talked about how, as a kid, I <i>needed</i> to be a rebel in order to survive. But, sometimes, breaking the rules and being a rebel isn't just about survival.</div>
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Sometimes, it's also kind of fun to scoff at the rules and authorities of society.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgATPiOM0YjchdNlVQR7Xe6rZWFdj1v5nzc361kFiN1QqG-jWeu-7rFgipT0rIfra3ZkXKGMl10o3n0piA3yoUJD26i0S6QWsHDMgt5X59QfWEyGwNXgCfaPlXvQAYrhwLWTclQGh19rcL0/s1600/sonja-is-drunk-again.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgATPiOM0YjchdNlVQR7Xe6rZWFdj1v5nzc361kFiN1QqG-jWeu-7rFgipT0rIfra3ZkXKGMl10o3n0piA3yoUJD26i0S6QWsHDMgt5X59QfWEyGwNXgCfaPlXvQAYrhwLWTclQGh19rcL0/s1600/sonja-is-drunk-again.jpg" height="458" width="640" /></a></div>
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Sometimes, it means sneaking into a movie theater in 1985 with your best male friends; they also happen to be your only male friends, because you're a transgirl who doesn't make male friends quite as easily as the male friends do with each other. You might even have a brutal crush on one of them, which makes the decision to break the rules and sneak into the movies with him an even easier choice than it might otherwise be.</div>
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And if the one you have a crush on happens to be the ringleader? Even better.</div>
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And if he want to sneak into a horror movie? Well, that's just- ... wow.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5z3Zv6AalcPgeVrVmnBxxwh8gehErCwnC_0XxkSwMhxRVIjSBBiaSD2TBpCO3B3aMevqh8WYFkKQS2OY-dN62rlmN1MO3SOdK-gEslzM4kdY7896ZGK6CPv61wTIiaCt4-whDgGK9Mfu6/s1600/POSTER-DAY-OF-THE-DEAD.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5z3Zv6AalcPgeVrVmnBxxwh8gehErCwnC_0XxkSwMhxRVIjSBBiaSD2TBpCO3B3aMevqh8WYFkKQS2OY-dN62rlmN1MO3SOdK-gEslzM4kdY7896ZGK6CPv61wTIiaCt4-whDgGK9Mfu6/s1600/POSTER-DAY-OF-THE-DEAD.jpg" height="640" width="422" /></a>T</div>
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That horror movie was <i>Day of the Dead.</i> And we knew it would take some doing if we wanted to experience "the darkest day of horror the world has ever known." <br />
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Here, it should be noted for any younger readers of my blog that movie theaters back in 1985 weren't commonly quite like ones we have today. These theaters were much smaller and more intimate, with people working there who actually paid attention to things like movie ratings and tearing tickets. So sneaking into a theater wasn't simply a matter of standing around and not being noticed. And, because of this, the plan felt a lot more dangerous for us than it was in, you know, reality. We plotted and co-ordinated and mapped out and cased double-checked and triple-checked and quadruple-checked.</div>
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We analyzed the components we would need to get the job done. We knew that we would need a great deal of familiarity with the layout of the theater. We knew that we would need to know who was working, and where they'd be. And, most critically, we knew we had to have someone on "the inside" while the others waited on "the outside," and that this someone had to be someone was willing to accept the principle risk of getting caught. Whoever was going in and taking that risk had to have steely nerves. They had to be cunning and smart. Above all, they had to be willing to get their hands a little dirty; or, more accurately - since this was a movie theater - a little sticky.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg7hrkuooXO5ESCfQtxi38ZKGiPe-vb2sOGZ8rrYjQbDT-d3nePdamKnNZIOKUpNKI5a7slX7hh3LhyphenhyphenIioJ18JobY6JEsyd0dStTkUKT2tVRK168UBcFBX_CTrBVxbjXIL_vl4UlcDflzq/s1600/181303.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg7hrkuooXO5ESCfQtxi38ZKGiPe-vb2sOGZ8rrYjQbDT-d3nePdamKnNZIOKUpNKI5a7slX7hh3LhyphenhyphenIioJ18JobY6JEsyd0dStTkUKT2tVRK168UBcFBX_CTrBVxbjXIL_vl4UlcDflzq/s1600/181303.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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So, of course, I volunteered.<br />
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The plan was, to our thinking, simple and ingenious - and, certainly, hadn't been tried by other kids our age who were certainly nowhere near as intelligent nor sophisticated as we clearly were. Because we had come up with the why-hadn't-anyone-ever-just-tried-this concept of one of us buying a ticket to a Rated-PG movie and then propping open the exit door from the inside to allow the other member of our cotiere to quietly gain access to a Rated-R film.<br />
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That film was <i>Back to the Future.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjNBSX-uBc-K_K0NHoapJO2yzF2ZmAGLABDwGUaI6y_JID5U16o0WMBaPGdIj4XooOMqRR0A2u8CGebtg9O0xkimEISPnzzp8ntzRkzsORv9cC6xpbaOQVCY6ZM8gaBuogqSEXqy2ORH_p/s1600/back-to-the-future.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjNBSX-uBc-K_K0NHoapJO2yzF2ZmAGLABDwGUaI6y_JID5U16o0WMBaPGdIj4XooOMqRR0A2u8CGebtg9O0xkimEISPnzzp8ntzRkzsORv9cC6xpbaOQVCY6ZM8gaBuogqSEXqy2ORH_p/s1600/back-to-the-future.jpg" height="640" width="414" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i>
And, yes, the irony of those ratings isn't lost on me now that I was picking the "family-friendly" option of <i>Back to the Future</i> - as American censors of the time apparently had less of a problem with a woman having a crush on her own son than with non-existent zombies, when - today - quite the opposite would probably be the case. Still, that was our plan ... to rebel against the conventions of theater etiquette - and, coincidentally, capitalism.<br />
<br />
"One ticket for the 5:30 <i>Back to the Future</i>, please," I said, voice quavering as I paid the admission price. My vision was blurry from how nervous I was. My heart was pounding, hard. <br />
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You will, however, note that - despite my terror-stricken participation in this conspiracy - I was polite. We may have been rebels, but we were still certain that we were the good guys in all this.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsLfL16aJrCtBll8TIJtneBB4iRCJ3W2rn4MAj-B38Y0o9B_ypB2b1NX30FTrhNd3fYLfgUR2Pu2t3LsrreyJO4jCOd_vfbYwS1hS6aj5G1cTCm121nrkLPBMRy3vZlmLT3Y71mqpdkPg0/s1600/how-to-draw-the-rebel-alliance-starbird-from-star-wars-starbird-symbol-step-7_1_000000138381_5.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsLfL16aJrCtBll8TIJtneBB4iRCJ3W2rn4MAj-B38Y0o9B_ypB2b1NX30FTrhNd3fYLfgUR2Pu2t3LsrreyJO4jCOd_vfbYwS1hS6aj5G1cTCm121nrkLPBMRy3vZlmLT3Y71mqpdkPg0/s1600/how-to-draw-the-rebel-alliance-starbird-from-star-wars-starbird-symbol-step-7_1_000000138381_5.gif" height="640" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Of course, </span><i style="text-align: justify;">Back to the Future </i><span style="text-align: justify;">was playing to a packed house - so nobody noticed the timid transgirl having a panic attack in the moments preceding my plan.</span></div>
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I sat in my seat, barely able to pay the slightest bit of attention to <i>Back to the Future </i>once it started. The plan had me waiting a bit until all the films at the cinema were running in their respective theaters. I tried to distract myself with the movie I was attending, but I couldn't. There was something about a guitar, and then a skateboard, and then a time machine involving some car with spaceship doors.</div>
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But all I could focus on was the lighted red carpet aisle and its descent down to the outside-leading exit. And I was going to use the exit for an entrance. Quiet, you. </div>
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Then, right around the time when Old Man Peabody was shooting at the DeLorean, I made my move and got up from my seat. Trepidatiously, I made a complete spectacle of myself trudging nervously down that red aisle, casting furtive glances over my shoulder. Reaching the exit, I pushed past the red velvet curtain and opened the door.</div>
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My friends were waiting, and quietly entered the theater. We stood behind the curtain, listening to the audio for what felt like a moment that would keep the attention of the audience. </div>
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It felt excruciating, waiting. But then Marty McFly got hit by a car, and we saw our chance and took it. We quickly raced up the aisle and out into the nearby restroom, into the stalls. We were wheezing at first, trying to catch our breaths, giggling conspiratorially about what our miniature rebellion had thusfar achieved.<br />
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Just call me Princess Leia. But, that's another article.<br />
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What matters for this article is what happened after we exited the bathroom, peeking around every corner of the twisty maze of hallways that made up the space between the interconnecting auditoriums of the theater.<br />
<br />
We were unopposed. We were on the verge of victory. And then, just like that, our progress toward seeing <i>Day of the Dead</i> was halted before that movie had even started playing.<br />
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Our rebellion against the tyrannical rules of the MPAA was stopped by the worst possible circumstance.<br />
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Other kids had already tried it. Constantly. And they'd been succeeding ... for a while.<br />
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But by the time the night showings were happening - the theater had conceived of a countermeasure in the form of placing numerous ushers all over the entrance to the theater showing <i>Day of the Dead. </i>I cursed them for their conscientious foiling of our adolescent plans. <i>Burn forever in Hell, ushers</i>, I remember thinking. It was a deserved response, right? <br />
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<i><br /></i>
So, just like that, our rebellion had come to an end ... or, so it had seemed.<br />
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My crush - the Ringleader - cursed under his breath: "Crap." He shook his head as if shaking the disappointment out of his shoulder-length hair. And then, "Wanna go see <i>Red Sonja</i> instead?"<br />
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You see, nothing ever bothered that Ringleader. It was one of the reasons I adored him. The worst situations could roll his way, and he could shake them off and move on and remain unperturbed. He had a transcendental kind of confidence - which is a rare and awesome thing for anyone to have.<br />
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And so it was that we went to see <i>Red Sonja</i>.<br />
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And it was horrible. And I mean it ... was ... <i><b><u>horrible</u></b></i>.<br />
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I remember thinking at the time that the universe must have been having a tremendous amount of fun at our expense, that this entire movie had been crafted just to torment us for our efforts at sneaking into a theater - that we were somehow being cosmically punished for our transgressions.<br />
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But that didn't change the fact that I had a<i> lot</i> of fun.<br />
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You see, that night burned itself into my mind as a magical night, no matter how bad the movie was.<br />
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But it wasn't the movie that made those memories. It was everything that surrounded that night. I still have a crystal clarity of the joy I felt at that act of rebellion, even though it failed. I vividly remember loving the feeling of my heart pounding in my chest, even as it was terrifying to me at the time. I recall the panic of racing into the bathroom with my partners in rebellion. <br />
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I remember holding as still as I possibly could, practically holding my breath, waiting for that mad moment when we dashed from the exit to the hallway. I even felt a tremendous exaltation when I pushed the exit door open and let my friends into the theater with me. And that night is when it really hit me: I liked breaking the rules, sometimes. I liked going against the grain, sometimes. I liked being bad, sometimes. I liked situations that were a little bit out of control, sometimes. I liked being a little bit bad. I liked being a little bit rebellious. I liked being a little bit wild.<br />
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And I also<i> really</i> liked being around other people who weren't afraid to break the rules if it suited them.<br />
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I knew that, in order for society to function, we had to all be Gallant ... most of the time.<br />
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At the same time, though, as a kid, I always had a thing for Goofus. He went his own way, and never cared about the proprieties of the social order. And that was awesome to me.<br />
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But I realized, too, that night, that rebellion and being bad for its own sake - while sometimes <i>really awesomely fun</i> - is also kind of hollow ... and meaningless ... and pointless. It's like a really bad movie: you might have a great time, but at the end of the day you haven't improved yourself or the world in which you live, and that can bring great sorrow that often overwhelms however good you felt when you were in the moment. And, with a good memory like mine, there's a feeling that's not so much built out of guilt or regret, but out of disappointment at a totally wasted opportunity to make more out of something than what you made. And the things you do in life can have repercussions, echoes that can outlast the ephemeral hours of the moment itself. The things we do don't just go away. Sometimes, they're unfortunately immortalized.<br />
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So this apparent paradox sent me into a bit of a moral quandary as time went by in my life. <br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>How do I fulfill my need to be rebellious against authoritarians, while at the same time making use of the outpouring of energy that accompanies it so that those moments have meaning for me afterward? </i><i>How can I be who and what I see myself as being while still also being what I consider to be a good person?</i><br />
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In short, I wondered:<i> How can I have my cake and fight evil, too?</i><br />
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At the same time, I found my mind going back again and again over the years to that stunningly awful movie, <i>Red Sonja</i>. And, more specifically, it got me thinking about Red Sonja as a character, wondering what exactly had made the movie so bad ... beyond issues of acting, effects, editing. I thought about it from a writer's perspective from time to time, as I worked on honing my own craft and abilities - wondering why that film was such a spectacular example of a situation where absolutely nothing on the page - assuming what ended up in the film had been on any page - seemed to work. <br />
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I knew that the character had existed outside of that movie, and that she was kind of a spin-off character from the <i>Conan </i>property, of which I had only a passing familiarity.<br />
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So - as a mental exercise - I decided to seek out the source material that had led to such excrescence. <br />
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And let's just say I wasn't a fan of what I found.<br />
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Red Sonja, you see, was - according to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roy_Thomas" style="background-color: white; background-image: none; color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none;" title="Roy Thomas">Roy Thomas</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px; text-align: start;">, </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Doug_Moench" style="background-color: white; background-image: none; color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none;" title="Doug Moench">Doug Moench</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px; text-align: start;">, and </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Howard_Chaykin" style="background-color: white; background-image: none; color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none;" title="Howard Chaykin">Howard Chaykin</a><span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">, at least - a woman whose ferocious thirst for justice and skill with a warrior's blade came about as a part of her life not by her own needs but as a reaction to being raped, and by supernatural intervention.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">The result is that we get a character whose origin is fundamentally one of being the object of the machinations of others. She is GIVEN a motivation to fight. She is GIVEN amazing warrior-skill. She is GIVEN a vow of chastity. Like gaining powers and abilities as the result of clearing a stage in a video game, Sonja's history and abilities are not so much earned but acquired.</span></span></div>
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And the more I saw of Red Sonja, the more confused and frustrated I got - because where she should be awesome, there were so many conflicting elements of her character and presentation that repulsed me even as some other elements seemed like they should be so cool.</div>
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She was the character that just wouldn't go away, no matter what I did. She was a puzzle I couldn't solve - and I hated that I liked her in the abstract even as she frustrated me in the specific.</div>
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But she kept showing up in my life.</div>
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I remember adoring her when I saw her portrayed by an actor battling an animatronic dragon at Universal Studios, even as I thought back with disgust to the elements of rape in her origin. </div>
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In fact, she seemed the equal of Conan in the theatrical show in terms of sword-skills and tenacity. Presented as a figure bereft of her skeezy origin, there was no reason she shouldn't be amazingly cool. The problem was, at least to me, that Sonja was awesome and savage but was never awesomely savage nor savagely awesome. There was always a critical element missing. </div>
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And that damned origin story of rape and magic hung over her, constantly sexualizing her and tearing away her achievements every time she showed up anywhere ... and in the way many artists would (and still sometimes do) portray her.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrVhHjSjcVcbtG3gfr7hV4isFw1xr4o9UQZv9c1CfA37McVrn9flit3DzM7v0c99LDE4kn6EtKP1nc2z0g6flyVbFHQFrVDdp4iUV0KtGcA-UxL7XdC8eApbyczIrt9L3cVnxf3luSuRS3/s1600/Alex+Miranda+Red+Sonja.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrVhHjSjcVcbtG3gfr7hV4isFw1xr4o9UQZv9c1CfA37McVrn9flit3DzM7v0c99LDE4kn6EtKP1nc2z0g6flyVbFHQFrVDdp4iUV0KtGcA-UxL7XdC8eApbyczIrt9L3cVnxf3luSuRS3/s1600/Alex+Miranda+Red+Sonja.jpg" height="640" width="470" /></a></div>
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And, no matter how amazing she was supposed to be, so many people also wrote her as somehow comically inept.</div>
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She was written, often, as furious and indignant - to the point where her abilities and skills became secondary.</div>
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In the <a href="http://marvel.com/" target="_blank">Marvel </a>books, she often showed up as a Hulk equivalent ... too angry to think with intelligence, to savage to respect the abilities of anyone around her. </div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">In the first run of Dynamite comics that followed decades later, she was too often a hyper-sexualized character who was perfectly in-keeping with those dismal days of art that was too-often meant solely to titillate a male audience.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">And so it was that my philosophical issue with what had happened that hot night in July sort of blended with the puzzle of why Red Sonja as a character and </span><i style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">Red Sonja</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;"> as a film just didn't seem to work, no matter who wrote her. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">It also didn't help in matters of keeping these two that my memories of that night were a sea of red: red uniforms on the ushers, the red carpet of the aisle, Red Sonja herself. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">As a result of this, Red Sonja actually became a mysterious symbol of frustration and confusion in my life, a symbol that didn't quite work the way it was presented ... but which, if you looked sideways at it, seemed like it should. And it bothered me for years and years, both as a philosophical issue and a literary thought-experiment. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">And that's where author <a href="https://twitter.com/GailSimone" target="_blank">Gail Simone</a> comes into this picture.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">You see, Gail Simone is - in addition to being an amazing writer - someone who has a keen observational skill about what makes a character work and what makes a character not work.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">And, for me, she solved two puzzles that have boggled my mind since I was 13.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">And it all comes down to agency.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">You see, Gail made me realize the problem wasn't with Sonja's origin as suffering a tragic loss. That element is universal to so many amazing characters.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">It's that when you throw in the victimization of rape, the supernatural elements, the magical vow of chastity ... you take away Sonja's agency, and you can't get it back no matter how convoluted a method you try.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">So, sometimes, you have to be a little savage as a writer - cutting away what doesn't work from a character, and reinterpreting what does ... so that a costume that might have been designed for male titillation takes on a whole different meaning.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">Gail gave Sonja the one thing so many failed writers couldn't give her.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">Gail gave Sonja agency, so that her sexualization and the titillation <i>meant </i>something that Sonja controlled - as opposed to her being controlled by some outside forces, like a worthy man or an ancient goddess of revenge.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">Gail taught me that source material isn't to be worshipped or accepted, but that it's good and healthy to take great leaps if it means getting rid of monstrous elements in a piece.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">Gail has taught me that a writer should write for the good of <i>this </i>story - not so obvious as it sounds to many writers, especially in the continuity-and-canon venue of comic-book heroes, where changes are seen so often as anathema.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">But here's the key. The changes Gail made? They were good changes, and they were better than what came before. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">And that's why Red Sonja is, now - finally, after so much time - both awesomely savage and savagely awesome.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">And I think this is because Gail's work always carries with it elements of real-life heroism and real-life activism. These elements aren't presented broadly on the page, because Gail is too skilled a writer to do that. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">But they're there. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">And they give Sonja a direction for her rage, a conduit for her power and a target for her savagery.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px; text-align: justify;">Yes - Sonja, as written by Gail, is consistently seen by other characters in these stories as a "primitive" savage, but - in point of fact and presented as such in the same tales - is more human and humane than many of her opponents.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">And, lest you think that this revised Sonja is too far steeped in the tropey paradox of savagery and nobility combined into one character, know that Gail's Sonja is - aside from being a good person - also wonderfully ignoble.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">And, likewise, Gail's Sonja is decidedly unafraid to remind the readers of this fact.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">And this is where Gail also, finally, helped me put to rest the debate that had plagued me for so long ... since that night in July in 1985.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;"><i>If you know you enjoy a life where you indulge your capacity to be a little wild, to be a little savage ... and you know you're a good person ... how do you keep from simply indulging base needs, base desires ... and how do you avoid that feeling of emptiness that comes when the wine jug has nothing left for you?</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">I had learned the answer from life's experiences, but I could never figure out a way to articulate it properly until Gail's Sonja made it so painfully obvious: you direct that savagery toward a careful purpose. You direct it toward doing the right thing. And you safely vent those feelings on those who most deserve righteous fury.</span></span></div>
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And you enjoy it where and how you can. </div>
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You live life, and you cherish the joys of being alive.</div>
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And, even as you commit to deeper philosophical truths, you keep your thoughts open to at least some of the things that matter on day-to-day existence. </div>
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It means recognizing the fundamental truths of what's important in life, and how far they extend.<br />
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It is about having a warrior's control, and the freedom to experience the joy of achievement in life's battles.<br />
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And it means never being afraid to feel true outrage at the injustices of the world.<br />
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It means picking one's battles ...<br />
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... but knowing when they truly matter ...<br />
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... and knowing the stakes that one must be willing to give up in order to win the important ones - and how hard one must fight.<br />
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And it means recognizing that our lives aren't perfect in their continuity ... that we are sometimes different from who we were in the past, and that our stories don't necessarily make sense in a coherent narrative. <br />
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We re-invent ourselves, and are re-invented by people who can have impact on our lives.<br />
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And we find that we are OK with that, because we might end up better - more capable, more ferocious in our commitments, more savage in our handling of our refusal to accept our flaws as impossible-to-change ... of the impossibility of improvement.<br />
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We find that our savagery of nature frees our confidence to soar.<br />
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And with that freedom comes an equal sort of calm to our savagery ...<br />
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... because we know that we don't always have to use it. But we're ready to do so if the need arises.<br />
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And, most of all, we recognize ourselves as warriors who can use the full strength of our power. We are familiar with it because it's a part of us that we don't lock away or fear. We don't try to deny our nature as beings of emotion and ferocity and, yes, savagery - in the name of good causes, in the name of protecting the world. And it's a fight that we face every day.<br />
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In this way, we know as confident women that we don't have to be afraid of our own success. We know we can enjoy our lives without taking shame in who and what we are. And we know that, while there are many battles in our lives to come, they will be met with our confidence and strength - and, yes, our savagery. In fighting for the ideals in which we believe, we warrior women are not simply willing to die to keep ourselves and others safe. We are also willing to live for it, too. And a woman who is willing to live for what she believes in can be the most dangerously savage kind of all when it comes to protecting herself, and the other people she has sworn to protect in her life. It is my wish that women will read this and feel empowered by it. If that idea scares you, ask yourself why. <br />
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If the idea of strong women scares you, it definitely should.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ2PG1p6KtvXOE099GKhoAS_z0I_uG9jqJYKMPkQZG814LD4bQPcV_Olx-q7qwxJa9bSXctwer5mdC8JmdMUGFQOxET89a4GEyIcwyvYlIYAZV95JrZpFTUKuIho262eYtCnkKB2plbscf/s1600/redsonja10c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ2PG1p6KtvXOE099GKhoAS_z0I_uG9jqJYKMPkQZG814LD4bQPcV_Olx-q7qwxJa9bSXctwer5mdC8JmdMUGFQOxET89a4GEyIcwyvYlIYAZV95JrZpFTUKuIho262eYtCnkKB2plbscf/s1600/redsonja10c.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
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Dee Emm Elmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14053652749413575579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1555007489284044452.post-77361047214408896432014-04-12T17:49:00.000-07:002014-08-09T13:34:39.441-07:00"I thought I heard a scream." (Alice Hardy)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsrOjGO6cZuznVPinzOP7WYJz94Sby-mygbL79aazm4btCjNeReV3QqIfJ8LQKU45J78Vr8GG-2MS5s6mmj9walqYPshlRIBH1ISA3tU4PxgXq09lCad1r5nSyxOEZbSHpbufjpnudQGvt/s1600/alicecropped.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsrOjGO6cZuznVPinzOP7WYJz94Sby-mygbL79aazm4btCjNeReV3QqIfJ8LQKU45J78Vr8GG-2MS5s6mmj9walqYPshlRIBH1ISA3tU4PxgXq09lCad1r5nSyxOEZbSHpbufjpnudQGvt/s1600/alicecropped.jpg" /></a></div>
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I've spent a lot of my life being frightened - being scared.</div>
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And you know what?</div>
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I'm good with that.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghP_GsC8NEKfEu6aSQYO-xPPyPz7RGHnYPxkPf4PUjtmyh5UoSyjhICeqfFF4i9ktzDNFvoCfLbBRbXzjdolo3-KSjpqqAQ-Z4_G6OCzw3vuPXkiiTPXd8V9AZ3CAEEGsJhK845CvOsyIr/s1600/The_Haunted_Mansion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghP_GsC8NEKfEu6aSQYO-xPPyPz7RGHnYPxkPf4PUjtmyh5UoSyjhICeqfFF4i9ktzDNFvoCfLbBRbXzjdolo3-KSjpqqAQ-Z4_G6OCzw3vuPXkiiTPXd8V9AZ3CAEEGsJhK845CvOsyIr/s1600/The_Haunted_Mansion.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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I'm fine with the phantoms dwelling in haunted houses. <br />
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I'm good with the the monsters lurking under beds.<br />
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I'm cool with the creatures hiding in closets.<br />
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And - in my life - do I ever know from closets.</div>
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It's why I've had to learn to accept what scares me - and that there will be lots of times when I'll have to be scared. Learning this has proved over and over in my life to be my only option to survive, let alone flourish. Acknowledging my childhood fears has proved to be the only way I can ever really gain any traction in this world. </div>
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By accepting what scares me, I try to take control of my fears. I try to break the metaphorical chains that try to hold me in place when I'm too scared. I try to use that turn those fears into something I can more easily handle.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieZvmIP8Hjryu-8u_rTilMpMIL43h6achnqfuHT-NHxX6zMsQwanKtcBhylaL-_2wkMnldg9jDnIM2JK26rMCwAI-1Cksc6H8PPfRkf9P6ibXMgaUeUoVCHFMv2CVcttJl0Td_QcovAC4X/s1600/51o6HzAzoPL._SX300_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieZvmIP8Hjryu-8u_rTilMpMIL43h6achnqfuHT-NHxX6zMsQwanKtcBhylaL-_2wkMnldg9jDnIM2JK26rMCwAI-1Cksc6H8PPfRkf9P6ibXMgaUeUoVCHFMv2CVcttJl0Td_QcovAC4X/s1600/51o6HzAzoPL._SX300_.jpg" /></a></div>
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I don't like to be chained. I don't like to see others chained. It doesn't even matter if the chains are literal or metaphorical in terms of what I accept for myself or others. Restricting an innocent person is wrong - period.</div>
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And there sure were a lot of those metaphorical chains as I grew up; I've discussed many of them throughout my blog. </div>
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Not least among them was seeing myself as a girl in a world and at a time that didn't always treat girls or women with the greatest of dignity or respect, particularly in the media. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSbA6TagWRn0W1TFVx1ryx-allU0eruyO_oBbNXd8ci1upVkjKVOmcERVrITpAvNdBIHA9nQZCl5mj4uJYaVYGqx_QUZPPWOnuDUjFymi-hqhL5tiGxzCpznHBO-j7VAVyzcxVbGbj2zkX/s1600/thisiscomputer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSbA6TagWRn0W1TFVx1ryx-allU0eruyO_oBbNXd8ci1upVkjKVOmcERVrITpAvNdBIHA9nQZCl5mj4uJYaVYGqx_QUZPPWOnuDUjFymi-hqhL5tiGxzCpznHBO-j7VAVyzcxVbGbj2zkX/s1600/thisiscomputer.jpg" height="320" width="238" /></a></div>
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You see, as a child, I looked everywhere for role models. Lacking people in real-life I felt like I could or wanted to emulate, I looked to fiction. And that meant I was looking to girls and women in the media who seemed like they could handle a life I often found so difficult to understand or control. I felt a tremendous amount of vulnerability as a child because of this lack of real-life role models. I felt like everything I was doing, I was making up as I went along - and that feeling didn't go away for a long time. </div>
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Heck, I still feel vulnerable in writing all of these pieces and putting them out into the world, exposing my history - memories - emotions. But, throughout my life, I've found characters who could inspire me, characters I could see as role models for various reasons.</div>
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One of them was a movie character named Alice Hardy.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmdXO89K1NHdeTfHQ6oeQgNrRSg0FQx-o6F5qKMdkoWO24WsEyi8pC-orXbNGQkhqdnAAISzpFhUrvuTmOD0bQdor3lRrruWWjYdBWOXDQM54sv3ARvGER-kcEGnPMTPqt_3yhXO-V_MC9/s1600/friday_the_13th_1980_6.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmdXO89K1NHdeTfHQ6oeQgNrRSg0FQx-o6F5qKMdkoWO24WsEyi8pC-orXbNGQkhqdnAAISzpFhUrvuTmOD0bQdor3lRrruWWjYdBWOXDQM54sv3ARvGER-kcEGnPMTPqt_3yhXO-V_MC9/s1600/friday_the_13th_1980_6.png" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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For those unfamiliar with the character: Alice Hardy is a young woman who takes up a job as one of a number of counselors at a long-shuttered summer camp that a man named Steve Christy is hoping to reopen after he and the others fix up the place.</div>
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Oh, and and the camp? It's called Camp Crystal Lake.</div>
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And the movie is called <i>Friday the 13th</i>.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9e81XryK_2EO0Me8arG90efCnMvUXEkalmtkBgZ1r3DN5yG_-lhYml0BEt8WibjqAZkcHmjd3mc-Kr2lZC-L2QxMDBRdNhbw142AkG8C6v_ya9QYePREyfhXr6PhSsJHxOitnp8F3FXRX/s1600/f-13.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9e81XryK_2EO0Me8arG90efCnMvUXEkalmtkBgZ1r3DN5yG_-lhYml0BEt8WibjqAZkcHmjd3mc-Kr2lZC-L2QxMDBRdNhbw142AkG8C6v_ya9QYePREyfhXr6PhSsJHxOitnp8F3FXRX/s1600/f-13.jpeg" height="320" width="205" /></a></div>
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<i>Now, wait a minute, Dee</i>, I can hear people say. <i>Isn't </i>Friday the 13th<i> a slasher movie? Isn't it one of those infamous movies where people die horribly, often in bizarre ways, usually depicted on-camera and in graphic detail? Because if it is, h</i><i>ow can it be empowering and inspiring to you?</i></div>
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My answers: yes, yes, and because it is. But that's not much of an answer, so I'll elaborate. And in elaborating, I'll be spoiling some of the major plot points and surprises in <i>Friday the 13th</i>. I'd tell you to watch it at this point, before you go any further, if you'd be cool with that. I hope you are! But, on to the elaboration.</div>
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Come back here when you've finished watching it.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNvSXszUke5XoSIl4Bl0VvuZ9KlpnY6I5IEdJzqhkJOzpxAD_zfhlvP1hooJMlqgkmwHPEwvDARGDxYZFhSq3GeCFE3HbUxbG25iI6BAQd3YzFCWs2gNORgLthch7Pec2ifAZ0ll4o7pqu/s1600/men_women_and_chainsaws.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNvSXszUke5XoSIl4Bl0VvuZ9KlpnY6I5IEdJzqhkJOzpxAD_zfhlvP1hooJMlqgkmwHPEwvDARGDxYZFhSq3GeCFE3HbUxbG25iI6BAQd3YzFCWs2gNORgLthch7Pec2ifAZ0ll4o7pqu/s1600/men_women_and_chainsaws.jpg" /></a></div>
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Now, the picture directly above this paragraph is the cover of an edition of a book called <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Men-Women-Chain-Saws-Gender/dp/0691006202/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1397340842&sr=8-1&keywords=carol+clover" target="_blank">Men, Women and Chainsaws: Gender in the Modern Horror Film</a>,</i> written by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carol_J._Clover" target="_blank">Carol J. Clover</a>. </div>
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If you're a fan of horror films but you haven't read the book, you should. If you're not a fan of horror, you should read it anyway - especially if you're a fan of gender studies and of theory on the presentation of women in popular media. </div>
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In short, everyone should read it. Go get yourself a copy. Once again, I'll be here when you get back from acquiring it.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ITIfiKxnJ4TuLLsi_7hFrLtE-A0qJwK0HY1lhXFpVGgRZ9GgqDOKA4uB5bHDJLZNw127Ydof3O_d2mNLIMlDkX9-zJWtkgdTgs8uOAeiIw7Wma8F77py-v8l3Ni6mwWbfZMO4dWeDvUO/s1600/k4982.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ITIfiKxnJ4TuLLsi_7hFrLtE-A0qJwK0HY1lhXFpVGgRZ9GgqDOKA4uB5bHDJLZNw127Ydof3O_d2mNLIMlDkX9-zJWtkgdTgs8uOAeiIw7Wma8F77py-v8l3Ni6mwWbfZMO4dWeDvUO/s1600/k4982.gif" height="400" width="266" /></a></div>
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I hope you enjoyed the book. It's really good. But for those who don't feel like listening to my advice - or who can't afford a copy and/or don't have access to a library that carries it - I'll summarize.</div>
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Basically, Ms. Clover's theories argue that one of the chief elements of slasher horror movies is to generate empathy in the audience not for the killers but for the characters who are struggling to survive against impossible odds. She argues that. for men who are viewing these films, the situations depicted give these men the opportunity to gain a better understanding of what it means to be victimized - an empathy men often lack in everyday situations. The extreme settings of horror films help to afford this empathy, and the male audience is rewarded in that empathy by seeing the character with whom they empathize get the upper hand by film's end, as the trope of the "Final Girl" who survives a horror onslaught sees a heroine emerge - often out of a situation that seems completely hopeless.</div>
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And for women, these so-called Final Girls really can be heroes.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMKuEx8SSgwAYxGm1vt4BdSQavPmmgFsLaEkHyHlEvPnG3L8-A4lt1fuSzzShFPGr9huBuifv9ZhTOzWlAXgku8yX3Qv1Ka0OrDMhidmgBvFDsrCasTtgZF7wF94S3RYykqPQu72Y0F2el/s1600/tumblr_m8svts7J6C1rdkzz5o1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMKuEx8SSgwAYxGm1vt4BdSQavPmmgFsLaEkHyHlEvPnG3L8-A4lt1fuSzzShFPGr9huBuifv9ZhTOzWlAXgku8yX3Qv1Ka0OrDMhidmgBvFDsrCasTtgZF7wF94S3RYykqPQu72Y0F2el/s1600/tumblr_m8svts7J6C1rdkzz5o1_1280.jpg" height="320" width="230" /></a></div>
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Played by actress <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0454415/?ref_=fn_al_nm_1" target="_blank">Adrienne King</a>, Alice Hardy is one of those heroes - and one of my favorites. </div>
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But I want to point out that Alice isn't a hero to me because she's physically strong, or stoically brave or unstoppably powerful. She's none of those things in <i>Friday the 13th</i>. She's portrayed as a quiet, artistic woman by Ms. King, who imbues her with a visible vulnerability - like someone who has been hurt in their past. Snippets of dialogue here and there suggest that this may be the case, but it is mostly in Ms. King's non-verbal performance that these elements become clear. So, no - she's not a conventional hero in the typical sense of the American cinematic tradition.</div>
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What she is, though, is <i>human.</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguXvXTpn76JLiySRpxj08H9fNdgNNkcK8OfAJd6LNg3CI4qeJi6dUlr-l_3Jg2_TySDtrf4awct3vmDCihiIW-ljEY9zJ_g-2BuU6-n0gEHfYkOKRuHgtv2KGnfSLGGuYRj4CIvzgH5QTh/s1600/3234379-alicefilm.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguXvXTpn76JLiySRpxj08H9fNdgNNkcK8OfAJd6LNg3CI4qeJi6dUlr-l_3Jg2_TySDtrf4awct3vmDCihiIW-ljEY9zJ_g-2BuU6-n0gEHfYkOKRuHgtv2KGnfSLGGuYRj4CIvzgH5QTh/s1600/3234379-alicefilm.png" height="320" width="244" /></a></div>
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And, being human, she's frightened sometimes. She's worried sometimes. She fails sometimes. She fumbles in the dark, gets her clothes caught on appliances, panics, cries. She's not perfect.<br />
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And that's why she reminds me of myself.<br />
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And not just because we both have red hair.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRM8ij5_KHx_SxJz-3QJn7yxty4BN6Ntyw5uPmzTnfmwY0wLkOe8x_6rAAMDXre-Satt8qkc45r3i2m8ZJN4jG2iMXJ1RBCX1ZpV3T1txMhyyR43AlvsD7WF8K9-2PEPUVsd0ZBzvbrKJB/s1600/1345775629.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRM8ij5_KHx_SxJz-3QJn7yxty4BN6Ntyw5uPmzTnfmwY0wLkOe8x_6rAAMDXre-Satt8qkc45r3i2m8ZJN4jG2iMXJ1RBCX1ZpV3T1txMhyyR43AlvsD7WF8K9-2PEPUVsd0ZBzvbrKJB/s1600/1345775629.jpg" height="134" width="320" /></a></div>
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It's specifically because of how vulnerable Alice seems until she's pushed by crisis. I'm like that. I know from self-analysis and from the words of others that I don't give off the appearance of being tough. </div>
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I don't put out that kind of energy, and neither does Alice.</div>
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And I know that sometimes, in my desire not to be hurt, I can rebuff people who might be earnest. I know that sometimes, I'm too careful - too unwilling to trust other people. Sometimes, people can come to me with the best of intentions and I shut them down and turn them away, even when I might not necessarily want to ... out of a desire not to be hurt, to experience pain I've already felt too many times in my past. So, I turn away from them - and Alice is like that in <i>Friday the 13th</i>, too. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYpgQexeUsPeNu53RBc0IuLUcyDaiSwYUP-409M3UQU5GHPqtJ2yDIpvcJb5RX6fr6OQo-F047bfFkOUo2opx8duD_w5EudPCR7W5Q9oNOcI1FGzkrcnKpVInrWvs7qQKgeQmiy660q83B/s1600/original.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYpgQexeUsPeNu53RBc0IuLUcyDaiSwYUP-409M3UQU5GHPqtJ2yDIpvcJb5RX6fr6OQo-F047bfFkOUo2opx8duD_w5EudPCR7W5Q9oNOcI1FGzkrcnKpVInrWvs7qQKgeQmiy660q83B/s1600/original.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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</div>
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And she also reminds me of myself because - when her battle for survival starts - she shows that she's a fighter, but not a warrior ... until the situation calls for it.</div>
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And in today's world, as has always been true, women have to at least be fighters to survive - and have to rise to the level of warriors to defend themselves when the situation calls for it.</div>
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And Alice defends herself like a warrior, even though it is not her nature as a default. She becomes a warrior, takes on that warrior spirit because she has to do so if she wants to see another day in the film's story. She realizes that she can't let her fears weaken her. She discovers that she must take ownership of that fear, and use it to heighten her capacities as an individual.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSW2j68i-mO6VmDqgydlSOEc2Sj3eqmL3LQD-RXemVKEc9ZyUhULXMxbfe055dxuyMjOOK5jzOlMb8FG9zlyz8FSb6LmYq4ZIBBt1SgN-T_OaxJNAgqEE9cua_Fwg1ZIsjXDy3jgcZeqVs/s1600/cDP1v42836.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSW2j68i-mO6VmDqgydlSOEc2Sj3eqmL3LQD-RXemVKEc9ZyUhULXMxbfe055dxuyMjOOK5jzOlMb8FG9zlyz8FSb6LmYq4ZIBBt1SgN-T_OaxJNAgqEE9cua_Fwg1ZIsjXDy3jgcZeqVs/s1600/cDP1v42836.jpg" height="223" width="320" /></a></div>
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And, what's more, this transformation from fighter to warrior in Alice's nature is made even more apparent in <i>Friday the 13th</i>, to me, because the film's chief antagonist isn't a maniacal supernatural demon or an undead creature in a hockey mask.</div>
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Because the villain in Friday the 13th isn't supernatural at all.</div>
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Instead, the villain of the piece is a tragic figure - a woman who has given in to the grief of losing her beloved son to a terrible fate.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilgxlD95qkIdcqb4DO77MhzDbNFNLlvhtjgVoF8F2vhyphenhyphennEOB766FNxw_Dj8v0g8VI3ECRwDW0xgiqNCBIr5J-QOCRpB5U4fADvQmCJWfHil7Wg5JsKEAsjdTSmop8l40kgeWAXoXXd_1-C/s1600/giphy.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilgxlD95qkIdcqb4DO77MhzDbNFNLlvhtjgVoF8F2vhyphenhyphennEOB766FNxw_Dj8v0g8VI3ECRwDW0xgiqNCBIr5J-QOCRpB5U4fADvQmCJWfHil7Wg5JsKEAsjdTSmop8l40kgeWAXoXXd_1-C/s1600/giphy.gif" height="165" width="320" /></a></div>
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<i>"<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17.030000686645508px;">Did you know a young boy drowned the year before those two others were killed? The counselors weren't paying any attention... They were making love while that young boy drowned. His name was Jason. I was working the day that it happened. Preparing meals... here. I was the cook. Jason should've been watched. Every minute. He was - he wasn't a very good swimmer. We can go now, dear."</span></i></div>
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Those are fateful words spoken toward the end of <i>Friday the 13th </i>by its chief antagonist, Pamela Voorhees - and for those who are surprised by this revelation, remember that I did warn you that there would be spoilers.</div>
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But for those of us who watched the film, we were shocked when Mrs. Voorhees was revealed to be the hidden killer - and reminded that sometimes it's right not to be so quick to trust others.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhACSgwemq1nZsMdLQFwfvecNpKSyA4rfZ8y8esyd9OsHgAZdhn0AapYaiQofxfdrzhejaUR2FLMRFPTJ3pktMfA517BUly3VMbthheSytBB9E6Dd9wHcLxuNUGj-WwoHZPmz1LEBToltMi/s1600/friday_twoshot.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhACSgwemq1nZsMdLQFwfvecNpKSyA4rfZ8y8esyd9OsHgAZdhn0AapYaiQofxfdrzhejaUR2FLMRFPTJ3pktMfA517BUly3VMbthheSytBB9E6Dd9wHcLxuNUGj-WwoHZPmz1LEBToltMi/s1600/friday_twoshot.JPG" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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Trust, to me, has to be earned. And, as tempting as it can be to put one's faith in others, one must only ever truly <i>depend</i> on oneself. This doesn't mean that a person has to become cold and distant, but it does mean that a person has to be careful.</div>
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And that's a lesson I learned from Alice Hardy - the idea of balancing trust and caution, of the need to open up to others, but also to be attentive to reality. She taught me that there can be severe and serious consequences when we lose sight of either of those ends of the scale by straying too far from the place that's right in-between them. </div>
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And those consequences can be dire, indeed.</div>
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And this is another element of horror films I want to talk about in terms of finding in them heroes.</div>
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In the end of the story of <i>Friday the 13th</i>, there's no heroic male knight saving a gorgeous female damsel. There's no Darth Vader villain with imperious intent. </div>
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Instead, there is only an emotionally-devastated woman fighting for her mad love of her deceased son and another woman who is struggling for her very life. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4NdN3UF-yxOfEzQsAjP9cg7nZO-P9SgkBhTbKxBOrQy0aDhnk3O0oEwEdFVxzk_8d49TETwRcNK-4cG8O_jIJy2QCCUPJdvKG2XnJJA6hHPqLyZOpNMD7Dfg5VRvhzcujrr-IF9iEmuWr/s1600/adriennekingbetsy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4NdN3UF-yxOfEzQsAjP9cg7nZO-P9SgkBhTbKxBOrQy0aDhnk3O0oEwEdFVxzk_8d49TETwRcNK-4cG8O_jIJy2QCCUPJdvKG2XnJJA6hHPqLyZOpNMD7Dfg5VRvhzcujrr-IF9iEmuWr/s1600/adriennekingbetsy.jpg" height="177" width="320" /></a></div>
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And I remember thinking, as a young person watching <i>Friday the 13th</i> for the first time, that I was honestly surprised that here was a movie where the epic final battle was being played out between two women, without a male character in sight.</div>
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And it was awesome. It was terrifying, but it was awesome.</div>
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It was awesome because hero and villain were like me - fighting for real emotional and invested reasons instead of for land or property or to "win" a woman. Theirs was a battle between two wills, with stakes so high that it was clear that only one would emerge alive.</div>
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And you just didn't <b>SEE</b> that in movies. It didn't really exist in the movies I knew. There weren't any films that I knew of back then where the main characters were women, where their stakes were the focus of the story, where their actions determined the outcome. And there certainly weren't any movies that I knew of where there were action scenes between women characters.</div>
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It seemed rare, and special, and magically epic to me - and also liberating and empowering. Here was proof that movies could tell stories that were about women and for women that depicted different kinds of women dealing with the same intense crises that were usually restricted for male characters in the movies I knew - life and death, survival and extermination, tragedy that wasn't restricted to disease or a lost romance. </div>
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It was grungy and dirty and brutal - and I loved it because it said that women could be all those things and still be women, and still be strong, and still survive. Women could be survivors. Women could be tough. These women were fighting for their lives, rather than worrying about breaking nails. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjls2vwZgTCASBY9Y933q-6ZNmdd4PkbFF9yYEAMAItpOJ2DtZEyD6fzoLVq-YalA6qGx-v_5A5DqPMgKj4iRfJC5OxF5Gsix637mQjwnX2YCH63LohfVNCIqvHrBexj0YGeinC1RC7pAth/s1600/friday_the_13th_1980_film_killing_mrs_voorhees.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjls2vwZgTCASBY9Y933q-6ZNmdd4PkbFF9yYEAMAItpOJ2DtZEyD6fzoLVq-YalA6qGx-v_5A5DqPMgKj4iRfJC5OxF5Gsix637mQjwnX2YCH63LohfVNCIqvHrBexj0YGeinC1RC7pAth/s1600/friday_the_13th_1980_film_killing_mrs_voorhees.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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And, in the end, Alice emerges victorious ... though she must resort to the destructive tactics of her opponent, must meet the force enacted against her with force of her own. </div>
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But, in that critical moment, she realizes that she can only survive the confrontation by fighting back in exactly that way - by reversing the circumstances and using Pamela's own weapons against her.</div>
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And it works. And it's tragic, because even as we root for Alice to survive ... we also feel a terrible sadness for Mrs. Voorhees, who has been driven to such madness by being so closely connected to another person that she cannot distinguish herself from her own son ... to the point where the two are only able to be united again in death ... or something maybe a little like it.</div>
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Thus, the portion of the ending of <i>Friday the 13th</i> in which Alice dispatches Pamela isn't so much a victory for Alice as an imperfect act of desperation.</div>
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And it leaves Alice alive ... but deeply-wounded, physically and mentally.</div>
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She is depicted as damaged by these events. She is not a reveler. She isn't cheering for the tragic violence that befell her and her friends. She isn't even cheering for the defeat of her enemy. When the violent fight for survival ends, Alice is simply ... exhausted.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUtmFs98JrVwPILhEKv_G9QabFzH4m81rMTPrVcmLl0mnWj6O_twrcFskKcHUqauLjaBkzJh-FJMDmr3ol4SG3OfR0I19YxrXz6gxxQxYDcOS6yOApLqBnU3afO1wefykvr5RhJqZ7rC5Z/s1600/F13-Adrienne-King.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUtmFs98JrVwPILhEKv_G9QabFzH4m81rMTPrVcmLl0mnWj6O_twrcFskKcHUqauLjaBkzJh-FJMDmr3ol4SG3OfR0I19YxrXz6gxxQxYDcOS6yOApLqBnU3afO1wefykvr5RhJqZ7rC5Z/s1600/F13-Adrienne-King.jpg" height="229" width="320" /></a></div>
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And I understand that fatigue so much.</div>
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I look at that image, and I feel Alice's exhaustion. I feel the agony of trying to recover from terrible events when they befall me. I understand the need to sleep away - even if it's just for a time - from the grief and fear and anguish I'm feeling when I've struggled. </div>
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The fight for survival, in my mind, and its sometimes-violent outcomes shouldn't be portrayed in fiction as a time for celebration. Where there has been death and tragedy, there should instead be a return to peace ... and reflection.</div>
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And it is that reflection that I remember being refreshed and surprised by at the end of the movie - that so much suffering and horror had become a memory, but that this was so much different from the way violence was portrayed in, say, the ending of <i>Star Wars. </i>I remember thinking as a child, watching <i>Star Wars</i>, that it was sad that nobody seemed to care about all the people who had died in the war - that they were celebrating the victory and the destruction of the Death Star and Luke and Han and Chewbacca becoming heroes ... but that the crucial missing piece from the story was what all that death and horror had done to them. They seemed unaffected, disinterested. </div>
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And yet, there's Alice Hardy - who begins the story, remember, somewhat disattached and distant in terms of how she deals with other people, someone who has been wounded. But I think the wounds that she felt ... re-opened as they are by Pamela's betrayal and attack ... are what allow her to grieve. It's as if, by virtue of her already having those wounds and imperfections, her grief and exhaustion doesn't have to go hidden once she has proved her will to survive. She is beaten down in these moments of the film, but she isn't beaten. Her hand is draped in the water, and she is clearly in a state of shock even as she is recovering from what she has endured. </div>
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And then, <i>this </i>happens.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG5LXILdTfbk_Exd2EyrxAbFw-p90vX7k7ptOnRAkS4jdQ5SHkyuhWZ_CLmmWv-dtlca9g8tZB5-PF5JPBUYBtIeOIa5rzfaQWgpvwqnVOFbJGSbGdJLCZYA9s-Ojsr2x_cePT6k_ZIpwf/s1600/qualityjason.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG5LXILdTfbk_Exd2EyrxAbFw-p90vX7k7ptOnRAkS4jdQ5SHkyuhWZ_CLmmWv-dtlca9g8tZB5-PF5JPBUYBtIeOIa5rzfaQWgpvwqnVOFbJGSbGdJLCZYA9s-Ojsr2x_cePT6k_ZIpwf/s1600/qualityjason.gif" height="179" width="320" /></a></div>
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That would be Jason, of course - making his first appearance in the last few minutes of the original <i>Friday the 13th</i>. And, really, if you've just been spoiled by this, then you have no one to blame but yourself.</div>
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It's also one of the scariest moments in a horror film in the entire history of horror cinema, in my opinion. The first time I saw this image, it haunted me for months. More than the visual qualities of this moment is the use of sound - the gentle, calming music broken up by Jason's undead rage. And I felt exactly like Alice in that moment, like something had grabbed me that instantly turned my blood to ice.</div>
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And then Alice wakes up.</div>
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Now, normally, I would hate for a movie to end with a dream sequence. But here, it's perfect, because of the exchange between Alice and Sergeant Tierney:</div>
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<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0454415/?ref_=tt_trv_qu" style="color: #70579d; text-decoration: none;">Alice</a>: The boy - is he dead, too?</div>
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<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0140972/?ref_=tt_trv_qu" style="color: #70579d; text-decoration: none;">Tierney</a>: Who?</div>
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<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0454415/?ref_=tt_trv_qu" style="color: #70579d; text-decoration: none;">Alice</a>: The boy! Jason!</div>
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<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0140972/?ref_=tt_trv_qu" style="color: #70579d; text-decoration: none;">Tierney</a>: Jason?</div>
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<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0454415/?ref_=tt_trv_qu" style="color: #70579d; text-decoration: none;">Alice</a>: In the lake, the o- ... - the one who attacked me! - the one who pulled me underneath the water.</div>
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<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0140972/?ref_=tt_trv_qu" style="color: #70579d; text-decoration: none;">Tierney</a>: Ma'am - we didn't find any boy.</div>
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<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0454415/?ref_=tt_trv_qu" style="color: #70579d; text-decoration: none;">Alice</a>: But he- ... then he's still there.</div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: small; line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">This ending is perfect to me because it reminds me of myself so very much. To me, the way Alice says the last line about Jason being there is a complex work. She says it with awe, fear and great sadness ... all put together into one. It's a perfect ending to the tragic story of Pamela and Jason in this film, because while Alice has escaped the horrors of that terrible Friday the 13th at the camp, she will still be changed and haunted by all that's happened to her. She doesn't brush it aside, and even in this moment of respite from evil ... her thoughts are of the sad little boy who surely must be lying below that lake somewhere - at least to Alice's way of thinking.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: small; line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">It reminds me of myself because of how obvious it is - thanks to Adrienne King's performance - that Alice feels so many conflicted emotions. In my experience, artists tend to be thoughtful people who - by virtue of what they do and how they create - often see situations and events from a multitude of different perspectives. </span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: small; line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">This can make for beautiful art, but it can also complicate how artists feel about what happens in their lives. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: small; line-height: normal; text-align: justify;">Nothing for an artist can be quite as simple and cut-and-dried as even artists might like, including tragedy and violence. It's just not in an artist's nature, as I understand it. And artists must take what has happened to them in life, and ponder it, consider it; and, most of all, create from it.</span></div>
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And Adrienne King knows what she's talking about in terms of portraying an artist, because she is one in real-life, too.</div>
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I got permission from her to display her beautiful painting called "Alice's Dream" here on my blog, and I am honored to do so. To me, it paints a perfect picture of what the ending of <i>Friday the 13th </i>really is to me - beautiful, sad, tragic, quiet, violent, scary, tranquil ... a perfect blend of different states of being all represented in color and light and texture and shape.</div>
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You can see more of Adrienne King's gorgeous art on her website by clicking <a href="http://www.adrienneking.com/" target="_blank">here</a>. I encourage everyone who visits to become a patron of her work. She also is the force behind Crystal Lake Wines, which you can find out more about by clicking <a href="http://crystallakewines.com/" target="_blank">here</a>. </div>
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Just above this paragraph is a much more current photograph of Adrienne King. You'll notice that the label on the bottle of wine features Ms. King's art and is a depiction of the final scene shown above on my blog for <i>Friday the 13th. </i>This leads me to one last moment of observation for this piece, which is this: as a horror fan, I have had the opportunity to read the thoughts and ideas of performers who have starred in horror films at the beginning of their careers. Actors like Johnny Depp and Kevin Bacon got their early movie careers going in horror (Kevin in <i>Friday the 13th</i>, actually!). For some performers, these are bitter memories of past embarrassments. <br />
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But, as you can tell from visiting Ms. King's website and looking at her art and tasting her wine, she has made these events part of herself. She has incorporated an infamous slasher movie into who she is today, despite some self-described difficult times and challenges associated with her connection to the <i>Friday the 13th</i> film series. And every single time I hear anyone talk about meeting Ms. King, they describe the experience as warm and gracious and inviting, that she talks with fans and enjoys hearing how they were affected by what she created in the character of Alice Hardy. While I have never met her, myself, I'd say that's an indication of the kind of will to survive that left me so inspired by Alice Hardy. <br />
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It means that, even after rough times, people who've been through difficulties can emerge on the other side stronger and better and more successful in life. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDK4oQr0R8ap-hA1JuMgDyzCL18bjcVBllP2Vx3YMer3vPdomfZMi95PiwfN9SyACKH_o6niI-8mvCzaDY5A4VZvkG92Xj9_MTJnrDXTuxyXO-RfozgvOjm-eC0H3bilT1uIWFyZX_h_nS/s1600/adriennekingjpg-03fb273224ab1f25.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDK4oQr0R8ap-hA1JuMgDyzCL18bjcVBllP2Vx3YMer3vPdomfZMi95PiwfN9SyACKH_o6niI-8mvCzaDY5A4VZvkG92Xj9_MTJnrDXTuxyXO-RfozgvOjm-eC0H3bilT1uIWFyZX_h_nS/s1600/adriennekingjpg-03fb273224ab1f25.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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We who survive the troubles and tragedies in our lives are all Final Girls, and we all share the solidarity of surviving difficult events. <br />
<br />
But, ultimately, we are more than our histories, and we are not bound by them. Because we aren't <i>still there</i>.</div>
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<br />
We're still <i>here.</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNBmqgvb6NAG-c7wz-v8wf-NXYovJdB99edrFLEm5ENtqk73mjkDlHFQE_YKaVrS4_tumIYXZbB4ZLStmwonFJChxyrkXV0lSl6EBUIOwWH8J37I1yKWYQafx91NIvjOu3f9DYSb5T1GWN/s1600/F13-Adrienne-King-OregonLive.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNBmqgvb6NAG-c7wz-v8wf-NXYovJdB99edrFLEm5ENtqk73mjkDlHFQE_YKaVrS4_tumIYXZbB4ZLStmwonFJChxyrkXV0lSl6EBUIOwWH8J37I1yKWYQafx91NIvjOu3f9DYSb5T1GWN/s1600/F13-Adrienne-King-OregonLive.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
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Dee Emm Elmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14053652749413575579noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1555007489284044452.post-72620377325220967702014-03-18T23:05:00.001-07:002014-05-03T21:59:45.017-07:00"Uh, I've got a name. Ha! And it's a boy's name, too." (Fa Mulan)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrmTHrov3XheZdO-nXt1Lq7vRmcpXmNKU42KSygOlT0TdZwixogEDXQhp-EQpdZ9YQ-daMjbcO496VSRCjaREP-KEfozHULtnJXwP2jfAEthcYzhyfTKVcOUQWAwNVIdXqTtx7OemaWtnL/s1600/Mulan.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrmTHrov3XheZdO-nXt1Lq7vRmcpXmNKU42KSygOlT0TdZwixogEDXQhp-EQpdZ9YQ-daMjbcO496VSRCjaREP-KEfozHULtnJXwP2jfAEthcYzhyfTKVcOUQWAwNVIdXqTtx7OemaWtnL/s1600/Mulan.png" height="320" width="228" /></a></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Look at me.</i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>You may think you see </i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Who I really am</i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>But you'll never know me. </i></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Every day </i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>It's as if I play a part. </i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Now I see,</i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>If I wear a mask,</i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>I can fool the world; </i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>But I cannot fool my heart.</i></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Who is that girl I see</i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Staring straight back at me? </i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>When will my reflection show </i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Who I am inside? </i></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>I am now </i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>In a world where I. </i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Have to hide my heart, </i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>And what I believe in; </i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>But somehow </i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>I will show the world </i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>What's inside my heart, </i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>And be loved for who I am. </i></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Who is that girl I see </i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Staring straight back at me? </i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Why is my reflection </i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Someone I don't know? </i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Must I pretend that I'm </i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Someone else for all time? </i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>When will my reflection show </i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Who I am inside? </i></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>There's a heart that must be free </i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>To fly,</i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>That burns with a need to know</i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>The reason why. </i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Why must we all conceal</i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>What we think, how we feel? </i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Must there be a secret me</i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>I'm forced to hide? </i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>I won't pretend that I'm</i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Someone else for all time. </i></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>When will my reflection show</i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Who I am inside? </i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>When will my reflection show</i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Who I am inside?</i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
- "Reflection," by <a href="http://www.matthewwildermusic.com/" target="_blank">Matthew Wilder</a> and <a href="http://www.kraft-engel.com/clients/david-zippel/" target="_blank">David Zippel</a></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaQTJqP_ygGWLdJWeILK6-x7_8ApOyhyphenhyphenhVFb5CAnk_NkIq_YYth31NPVzDsQ32EunHRPB-hZnWzBgPnxBWSvO39X7xteCe0TLziMAC2oN2HeV5FYmGjiDXqUeEyH4bLHfnBqjIWd4Hqnlk/s1600/Mulan-disney-princess-31379595-500-282.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaQTJqP_ygGWLdJWeILK6-x7_8ApOyhyphenhyphenhVFb5CAnk_NkIq_YYth31NPVzDsQ32EunHRPB-hZnWzBgPnxBWSvO39X7xteCe0TLziMAC2oN2HeV5FYmGjiDXqUeEyH4bLHfnBqjIWd4Hqnlk/s1600/Mulan-disney-princess-31379595-500-282.gif" /></a></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
These are the lyrics sung by Fa Mulan in the <a href="http://disney.com/" target="_blank">Disney</a> film <i>Mulan</i>.</div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
This song means quite a lot to me, as you can probably imagine from even a cursory inspection of the lyrics.</div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
Too, the film Mulan - perhaps unsurprisingly - means a lot to me.</div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgULJ54pHxxXA2L5bULbscn3m3Ybj3mY5sLqIfMz97qsNKu02iazmfmRrVIujNvzDtyu9BVtDlEMQ6-cX8Y0DP4QtxV2TF4GdFuDo7zUX85qqEpmstZk1GgfVr0mj9cK8O9s_Su5MHyFz93/s1600/mulan_ver1_xlg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgULJ54pHxxXA2L5bULbscn3m3Ybj3mY5sLqIfMz97qsNKu02iazmfmRrVIujNvzDtyu9BVtDlEMQ6-cX8Y0DP4QtxV2TF4GdFuDo7zUX85qqEpmstZk1GgfVr0mj9cK8O9s_Su5MHyFz93/s1600/mulan_ver1_xlg.jpg" height="320" width="215" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="p3" style="text-align: justify;">
Mulan as a character - well, she represents a lot of different things to me ... possibly more than could be covered in any one essay.<br />
<br />
But I'm writing this one anyway.<br />
<br />
I hope you'll bear with me on this, and I hope you'll see how a character like Mulan can connect with the real world.</div>
<div class="p3" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1soqj99pQ-Vrls5WeleUtnSP51LQ5v9yniTKLZHqhLbeFNkdg-aKLHgcfAS5X9anq8WrxOpIu4afCPJI06bbt0flc575AojAP6Q9Y5TqqJKUq48cWm8dTw8go_pQjaAR49pnoqybxNOQX/s1600/mulan-shang-walt-disney-characters-20898882-1218-720.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1soqj99pQ-Vrls5WeleUtnSP51LQ5v9yniTKLZHqhLbeFNkdg-aKLHgcfAS5X9anq8WrxOpIu4afCPJI06bbt0flc575AojAP6Q9Y5TqqJKUq48cWm8dTw8go_pQjaAR49pnoqybxNOQX/s1600/mulan-shang-walt-disney-characters-20898882-1218-720.jpg" height="236" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="p3" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
Of course, I'm ultimately writing about the real world in all of my essays. In this case, the inspiration for this piece came directly from a conversation I had in the real world - albeit through <a href="http://twitter.com/" target="_blank">Twitter </a>- with a woman called Aoife. I know that this isn't the first time I've mentioned a specific Twitter user in one of these pieces, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't go check out her Twitter feed <a href="https://twitter.com/Aoifeschatology" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
<br />
She's a fascinating woman, so you should read what she has to say. You may or may not agree with everything - or anything - she says, but you'll gain new insight about another person's perspective. And perspective is what this piece is ultimately about in the first place.<br />
<br />
You see, I consider Aoife to be an online friend of mine. And I value friendships. I value people not as commodities, but as human beings. And I try to stand with my friends when they're wronged or hurt by others. Bonds of friendship are - to me - what builds true community.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCIaoxQjCz3EG0TK0UyoTFsSiCkPJwObt_sDdJPvACIhtfCpelIKoXDqnabRZkyXshmCktx_juE6QotGb9yUjcGRuMMqgN88w0Sczo9XuXZuNWZYsLu2ghF8Mf5WVdnrbxk9gLl76AqwmO/s1600/tumblr_mwf7r0BYEQ1rzckwmo1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCIaoxQjCz3EG0TK0UyoTFsSiCkPJwObt_sDdJPvACIhtfCpelIKoXDqnabRZkyXshmCktx_juE6QotGb9yUjcGRuMMqgN88w0Sczo9XuXZuNWZYsLu2ghF8Mf5WVdnrbxk9gLl76AqwmO/s1600/tumblr_mwf7r0BYEQ1rzckwmo1_1280.jpg" height="127" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
As you might observe, I make that distinction "online" because it does make a difference. There is nothing - nothing whatsoever - like face-to-face friendship. But, I find, the more we can make contact with people outside our own circles, the greater we build our understanding of our own world. This seems obvious to me.<br />
<br />
And, more and more, I see this being lost in the world of online "sharing." I've even written an essay about it - which you can read over on the <a href="http://huffingtonpost.com/" target="_blank">Huffington Post</a>. I'm fairly proud of getting an article posted there. This one is called "Achievement Unlocked: Twinkies for Everyone." You can read it <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/dee-emm-elms/achievement-unlocked-twinkies-for-everyone_b_3181922.html" target="_blank">here</a>. <br />
<br />
It's all about junk food.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrLZk3yOjzZsxSvfWrAkNfBEIW3fubpXtLDAfC6QBSPWdgeAr7Ddt0tM-IlVCNrK5VQkDnCBEYxCPq7DuPp8vWjGQIzwsWDyqYESMwLuLY4xcD40k0Zj9xgM7YbC0JX-4FxjZKrYpOZbJK/s1600/MulanMcDEurope.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrLZk3yOjzZsxSvfWrAkNfBEIW3fubpXtLDAfC6QBSPWdgeAr7Ddt0tM-IlVCNrK5VQkDnCBEYxCPq7DuPp8vWjGQIzwsWDyqYESMwLuLY4xcD40k0Zj9xgM7YbC0JX-4FxjZKrYpOZbJK/s1600/MulanMcDEurope.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
And I can extend the junk food metaphor to many so-called online "shared" "communities" - and please note the scare-quotes. <br />
<br />
Really, though, they're more like quotes of disdain. <br />
<br />
And what I have disdain for is the idea of people who think they've built a true community, when what they've built instead is a Doozer network of sugar sticks that has about as much substance and lasts just about as long.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd8CLWG8HwxcEeaeYHfjG8wV35ws4fdgZ6AjnJKaMoPAIEho-oLPsvoRTnd6A6a7sfMQjX6Bk1o_NquLSncnx_Y0iyyTtNVSwshbi_6RzjbIR2kEnXZzdY4HAwVw3bM4QnIU7G9b3bowHE/s1600/Doozers-observed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd8CLWG8HwxcEeaeYHfjG8wV35ws4fdgZ6AjnJKaMoPAIEho-oLPsvoRTnd6A6a7sfMQjX6Bk1o_NquLSncnx_Y0iyyTtNVSwshbi_6RzjbIR2kEnXZzdY4HAwVw3bM4QnIU7G9b3bowHE/s1600/Doozers-observed.jpg" height="316" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I call this kind of phony idea of community the "cult of agreement." I don't think I need to run deep into an explanation of what I mean by that. The term pretty much speaks for itself. It's about people who join together into fragile, interconnected groups that rely on harmony in order to exist. These are the kinds of "friendships" where everyone has to think the same way and behave the same and share the same opinions of everything - on punishment of banishment from the community, or social pariah status within it, or maybe even just astonishing abuse.<br />
<br />
It's about being expected to live in a "family" where you're told how to think, who you are and what you should be thinking about or talking about at all times. It's about having your mind made up for you by other people about your ideas, your processes and your destiny.<br />
<br />
And, well, that's pretty much what starts the story of Fa Mulan.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ99Qm1mFmEexIOh-bF3ugdwod-5HNpNPXNYd9N7jT9U7Yn4XrxkKVy3MqxU2SbxZ7lolu_rc66r4xNWKN3ixtkGLdCsMI0FPO7HE3jxrEalrlNGLYhrOJ-t5r4Yl43FDDzF-AJxhQEcka/s1600/6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ99Qm1mFmEexIOh-bF3ugdwod-5HNpNPXNYd9N7jT9U7Yn4XrxkKVy3MqxU2SbxZ7lolu_rc66r4xNWKN3ixtkGLdCsMI0FPO7HE3jxrEalrlNGLYhrOJ-t5r4Yl43FDDzF-AJxhQEcka/s1600/6.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
You see, Mulan lives in a family where she's expected to conform to the expectations of others. She's told that she exists not to have her own opinions, but to please others. She's expected to fulfill certain obligations she never asked for, to smile and nod when her entire life is mapped out for her. And the biggest concern that she's told she should have is not to bring dishonor upon herself by having her own goals or opinions. She's not afforded the opportunity to speak out about what she wants, either. In fact, the characters that make up her family community behave as if what they want is surely what Mulan wants because it's surely what everyone <i>like</i> Mulan must <i>want</i>. They assume that Mulan would, <i>of course</i>, want the life they offer her.<br />
<br />
Except they're wrong.<br />
<br />
Because that's not what Mulan wants. At all.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHWHqXCuLY3DbBCF44rWi1UdQSMMXffUPs5mHvef0EvWSjxZ4dG5JT0CYYEL_ATM_Wv9061DVmXLumR5W1h_e2fgW9oUNzennjj2OC6Hh382NGhuVXRMEUTfqn06Q-0DNrQt1ONGi8iDJ2/s1600/Mulan-disneyscreencaps.com-1303.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHWHqXCuLY3DbBCF44rWi1UdQSMMXffUPs5mHvef0EvWSjxZ4dG5JT0CYYEL_ATM_Wv9061DVmXLumR5W1h_e2fgW9oUNzennjj2OC6Hh382NGhuVXRMEUTfqn06Q-0DNrQt1ONGi8iDJ2/s1600/Mulan-disneyscreencaps.com-1303.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
And that's where the song at the beginning of this article comes into play, as Mulan laments the situation of being in a group of people who not only don't want to accept her for who she is, but who have no interest in finding out who she is. This is a group that goes beyond mere ignorance of Mulan's hopes and dreams and have instead put up active barriers toward the dissonance her ideas would create in a closed system of a community that has decided as a group that it knows best what its individual members want.<br />
<br />
And that's the same thing that sometimes - often, really - happens in internet communities when it comes to groups seeking social justice. Everyone in the community is expected to conform to a particular narrative. Everyone is expected to go along the same path. Everyone is expected to hit the same talking points in the name of solidarity. And when someone deviates from those points, that person is attacked with ridicule - or worse.<br />
<br />
But, you know what? I don't put up with that. And neither does Mulan.<br />
<br />
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<br />
The way Mulan doesn't put up with her situation is a little different from my own. I don't have a scenario where I have to go to war to protect my father when the Emperor calls on a man from every family to fight in the war against the Huns. <br />
<br />
But the thing to remember here is that Mulan made this decision not for some kind of rebellious thrill of the moment. She did what she did because it was the right thing to do - and at her core, Mulan needs to do the right thing for others.<br />
<br />
And for herself.<br />
<br />
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<br />
And that's the key that keeps me from accepting these cults of agreement. I have to do what's right for me, every single time, in everything I do. I am inspired when I watch <i>Mulan </i>for so many reasons, but one of the biggest and strongest is that Mulan always makes the choices she makes because they're right for her. She doesn't do things because of a feeling of obligation for the community. She doesn't go to war just to save Fa Zhou because she feels she has to. She does it because it's the right choice for her.<br />
<br />
And that's how I am with every decision I make. It's how I am with everything I see online. It's why I wear the clothes I wear. It's why I do my hair the way I do. It's why I picked out my glasses. The frames may have been inspired by <a href="http://fourcolorprincesses.blogspot.com/2012/11/just-doing-her-duty-as-citizen-barbara_20.html" target="_blank">Barabara Gordon</a>'s Oracle, but they were ultimately my choice. Being inspired to take action isn't the same time as being given an obligation to take action.<br />
<br />
Besides all that, my clothes and glasses make me look cute.<br />
<br />
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<br />
And, like Mulan, I've got a name. And it's a boy's name, too. The name on my birth certificate is Dennis Ruane Michael Elms. Even as a kid, though, I used to sign my art Dee Emm Elms, because I preferred the name Dee. I ask people to use it. I know some people won't use it. I know some people won't respect me. And you know what? That's okay. Call me Dee. Call me Dennis. I'm still the same person.<br />
<br />
And so is Fa Mulan, whether you call her Fa Mulan or Ping.<br />
<br />
And whether you call her Fa Mulan or Ping, she's still a brave warrior that can't be directed toward any particular destiny you want. She has to be true to herself - and what she is inside is a woman with a warrior spirit.<br />
<br />
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<br />
And part of having a warrior spirit is being unwilling to let fear get the best of you, and standing up for what you believe in when it comes to expressing yourself - even if there is a cost.<br />
<br />
And that cost is often exclusion from the "cult of agreement." It's exclusion from a closed circle that only allows you into its embrace if you surrender your individuality.<br />
<br />
No, thanks.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMnEOI4pQCLMs9n9vh2Kzlv5A7lNDf3KSUbexTxFxjOoUq8J1-FvCm_5It2Z90Mz3ofNr6ecbmFya5DBgH49Y0GRfKSE80LoSYNoJWFZ9YTdj6MidpRpiYSXbdjHAlL3pu-0WHtkcjRPM7/s1600/nonconformist.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMnEOI4pQCLMs9n9vh2Kzlv5A7lNDf3KSUbexTxFxjOoUq8J1-FvCm_5It2Z90Mz3ofNr6ecbmFya5DBgH49Y0GRfKSE80LoSYNoJWFZ9YTdj6MidpRpiYSXbdjHAlL3pu-0WHtkcjRPM7/s1600/nonconformist.jpg" height="208" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Let's use an example - the one that inspired me to start thinking about Mulan in the first place.<br />
<br />
It has to do with a piece written by the aforementioned Aoife. Read it <a href="http://aoifeschatology.wordpress.com/2014/03/16/on-having-and-having-not-camab-and-male-privilege/" target="_blank">here</a>. I'll wait.<br />
<br />
Back? Great. Let's proceed.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIbf28Ow95zB1p8F2mlXOftFgJpAOGFM-gtNUpAfMvu7XW-WQFoZv9GMIFVdpJbPFJqDUGf3SlMMxAVNGn7W585trwWq_J7qYRdsUH3XOo0q2yWjkdIni8uTCQRgpvl4OdLVlQcVgKzbtA/s1600/tumblr_mr2hcnzI3n1r55d2io1_500.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIbf28Ow95zB1p8F2mlXOftFgJpAOGFM-gtNUpAfMvu7XW-WQFoZv9GMIFVdpJbPFJqDUGf3SlMMxAVNGn7W585trwWq_J7qYRdsUH3XOo0q2yWjkdIni8uTCQRgpvl4OdLVlQcVgKzbtA/s1600/tumblr_mr2hcnzI3n1r55d2io1_500.png" height="244" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Here's my opinion on what Aoife said -<br />
<br />
I've had a pretty easy life.<br />
<br />
I'm white, for the most part able-bodied ... and while I wasn't exactly rich as a kid - quite the opposite, really - I never went too hungry for too long. And I was given what many people call male privilege. And now you know.<br />
<br />
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<br />
And please note that I didn't ask for that privilege. I don't even like the term "privilege" as a describer, though I agree with many of the concepts behind it. I think "advantage" is a more accurate term - and one that's often used to define "privilege" when it's used in the cause of social activism. I'm autistic, and as a result I take words very much at their literal meaning - and I think "advantage" works better grammatically than "privilege." So, please don't think I'm backpedalling when I avoid the use of the word privilege from this point onward. It's just my personal preference for the most accurate term.<br />
<br />
And I was one hell of an advantaged kid, being white and suburban and perceived as male and likewise not having any visible disabilities that significantly altered the structure of my body or its functionality.<br />
<br />
And I recognize that I had all those advantages. And I'm thankful for the life I had, even when it was incredibly painful. I had food, shelter, and even enough food to have curves.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Would I have preferred to have been seen as a girl and treated as one? If you've read the rest of my blog, you know the answer to that. Hell, yes, I would've preferred that - and it would've eased me out of a lot of pain. And was it difficult to see my body go through masculine puberty while I was dreaming of getting breasts and being able to have a baby? Hell, yes - it was excruciating.<br />
<br />
But it would be a lie to say I wasn't afforded ANY advantages in our society because I was perceived as a boy - even if that perception was wrong.<br />
<br />
Which brings me back to Mulan.<br />
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<br /></div>
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<br />
And here's what I need to point out to those who say transwomen don't get ANY of the advantages a male gets just because of the pain we go through in our lives. <br />
<br />
You're wrong, because Mulan.<br />
<br />
And here's why -<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSLj9EOvp1e-VPWbiEQxSeVs_mZyMd6r3l97f6zJRpUTp0mzMSU48lEC2Lvm3xycHsHSN_pB7GyuXkU0xTvf5OwBMhLBMGPA7g-eg0y50aCJzF0CCjbxb0PavRQOJDMKr4sisWnYtFetZg/s1600/Mulan___Savior_of_China_by_madam_marla.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSLj9EOvp1e-VPWbiEQxSeVs_mZyMd6r3l97f6zJRpUTp0mzMSU48lEC2Lvm3xycHsHSN_pB7GyuXkU0xTvf5OwBMhLBMGPA7g-eg0y50aCJzF0CCjbxb0PavRQOJDMKr4sisWnYtFetZg/s1600/Mulan___Savior_of_China_by_madam_marla.jpg" height="320" width="303" /></a></div>
<br />
Mulan poses as a man in the military, taking the name Ping and training to fight against the Huns.<br />
<br />
And you know what? She succeeds brilliantly - because she's afforded the chance to succeed ... by the other soldiers.<br />
<br />
She isn't dressing up as a man because she's transgendered, either - though the agonized feelings expressed in the song "Reflection" are very much a representation of the feelings of a lot of transkids and of myself in my own childhood. She's dressing as a man because of the advantages it will afford her in her quest to do the right thing in her life.<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
Her goal in becoming Ping isn't merely to be seen as a man. She's doing what she does because she's driven to protect her homeland and to protect her family. And the only way in her time and place and life that she can do this is to pretend to be male. And by the mere act of pretending to be male, she gets the advantages of being one. And, as a result, she's able to achieve what she sets out to achieve.<br />
<br />
And this happens because she is successful enough in her disguise that other people - men, mostly - afford her the agency she requires to complete the mission she's given herself when she begins her quest.<br />
<br />
Note that I say she is<i> given</i> and <i>afforded</i> these advantages. <br />
<br />
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<br />
I use those terms because Mulan can't simply take these advantages. They have to be given to her by those who are in positions of power, because of her disadvantaged state of reality.<br />
<br />
It's as simple and obvious as that. Perception equals reality to a lot of people, even though those people are wrong.<br />
<br />
And the same is true for transpeople.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgplqwhfzF3cBEU5tOVs1AsO8oy75bsN9fwjKdcdAuMOcybRQQO8Tg0lfX3_aXf2fjMKlAYX0wf-yarrbP7JxcaCBlzQdNgThNl0__XTY5Bz9KOdJDmIJ7kKukyeWLB3geymutSGItn_h7L/s1600/mememe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgplqwhfzF3cBEU5tOVs1AsO8oy75bsN9fwjKdcdAuMOcybRQQO8Tg0lfX3_aXf2fjMKlAYX0wf-yarrbP7JxcaCBlzQdNgThNl0__XTY5Bz9KOdJDmIJ7kKukyeWLB3geymutSGItn_h7L/s1600/mememe.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
When you look at a picture of me, I don't care what you see. I don't care if you see a man or a woman. I know who and what I am. How I dress and how I "present" myself shouldn't be the source of how I get agency or advantages - but it is, even though it makes me sad that we live in such a world.<br />
<br />
When people see me, many times they perceive me as male. The fact that I can't and don't take hormones contributes to this. But I'm not a male wearing a disguise, any more than Mulan was a man wearing a disguise. I'm transgendered. That means something about who I am, despite the efforts of many people to tell me who and what I am in these "cult(s) of agreement" online.<br />
<br />
And if you will only afford me agency because of how I dress or how I "present," you're no better than a high-schooler who's being mean.<br />
<br />
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<br />
It's all about gaining perspective into other people's lives - and the only way to do that is to accept that people have different views if you want to get that different perspective. Anything other than that is brainwashing and cult-like behavior.<br />
<br />
And I refuse to let trans-exclusive radical feminists tell me I don't have a right to exist or to call myself a woman. And I refuse to let trans activists tell me that I've never been given male privilege.<br />
<br />
And I stand against both views, because it's the right thing to do, and - like Mulan - I'm on a quest to do the right thing. And for me, doing the right thing means educating people about me - so they will gain perspective ... so that, in the end, we can all be that much closer to each other, share that much more community, share moments of real togetherness despite our differences in upbringing and culture and everything else that makes us different.<br />
<br />
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<br />
Mulan used errors in perception that gave her male advantages to save her family and her people. I use errors in perception that give me male advantage to make inroads to groups and places where I can make the truth about transwomen known. <br />
<br />
We're both skilled woman warriors, in very different fights. <br />
<br />
And we're both determined to win the fights we choose.<br />
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<br />
Mulan is a woman no matter how she presents.<br />
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And she has a warrior's heart no matter how she is dressed.<br />
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But she was given a man's training and a man's knowledge by others.<br />
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She took the life she had - with the resources she had - to break the rules and conventions of her world and fight the necessary battle.<br />
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And I do the same thing every day.<br />
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As does Aoife. As does any woman who puts her thoughts and her ideas out there - raw, real, unvarnished, inharmonious with the cult of agreement - into the world for others to experience, to agree with or to disagree with as they will. All women - trans and cis - fight this battle every time we struggle to be heard. So this begs the question: if you're fighting against women being heard, whose side of the fight are you really on?<br />
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I'm on the side of giving all women a voice - whether I agree with them or not - whether I stand with them or oppose them - whether they agree with me and like me or think I'm awful.<br />
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I want to hear all women's voices heard - because right now, they're not being heard. <br />
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And does this mean that there will be voices that vehemently disagree with me? Yes. And they can shout as loud as they want. It won't deter me. Bigots and hateful people will always be. There's no way to fully extricate that bigotry from the human heart. And there's a bottom line that certain people will never accept transwomen as women in their mantra that "biology matters," their candied understatement regarding my lack of a working vagina. But I'm not looking down at them. I'm looking skyward at what I hope will be a new horizon of freedom for transpeople. I don't like to look down on other people. I like to look up at the sky and see the hopes for a new day exploding across the sky.<br />
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So yeah, I wear comfortable shoes.<br />
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Yeah, I wear jeans and a t-shirt.<br />
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But do you get to decide who I am? What that means? Only for yourself - not for everyone else. You have a right to your own opinion - not mine or anyone else's. And you know what? My attitude is as "meaningfully trans" as my own life has meaning. Who is anyone to suggest that anyone's life is meaningless? Isn't that the same attitude that tells Mulan she has to be one specific thing in order to live her life?<br />
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I don't want someone else to hold a mirror up to themselves and tell me I have to conform to what they are.<br />
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I want to make my own path.<br />
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I want to wield the sword I've forged by my life experiences and use it to cut away injustices, not to cut down other people. I want to use it to stand for something, not just against something - to be a symbol of hope.<br />
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It's a tough mission, but it's the one I've chosen.<br />
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And I'll use whatever tools are at my disposal to do the right thing.<br />
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Because the kinds of battles Mulan faced in her time aren't all entirely different from the ones I face today.<br />
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A woman who is disguised as a man can get male advantage.<br />
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But that doesn't change who she is.<br />
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It doesn't change what kind of person she is inside.<br />
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We have the choice - each of us - to live as we are, or struggle to be what we want to become, at every moment. Some people have advantages over others that make those choices easier. Is that the way it should be? I don't think so. But it doesn't change the reality.<br />
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And if you sign up for a life that is true to yourself, expect it to be troubled. Expect problems. Expect strife. Expect that there will be battles to be fought, if what you're fighting for is worth fighting for - and know that, no matter what, your life itself is always worth fighting for.<br />
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Don't let other people tell you that you don't mean anything, because you do. Don't let other people tell you that you're not who and what you know you are, because knowing yourself is so important. Stand strong and tall and proud, whether you wear jeans or carry a parasol - or both.<br />
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Ultimately, Mulan's life brought honor to herself and her family and her people.<br />
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Bring honor to yours.<br />
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Doing the right thing is what brings that honor - not how you dress, how you present, or what people say you are. It's who you really are that matters, whether you're a soldier or a scholar in the fight. <br />
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And above all else, reach out to other people. <br />
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Make contact. Be willing to step up and be the one someone can call on when they have doubts or questions or are unsure. <br />
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Don't let others overcome your life - but be willing to listen.<br />
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We all share this world together.<br />
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We all have meaning.<br />
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What's yours?<br />
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Dee Emm Elmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14053652749413575579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1555007489284044452.post-91908238458642231052014-03-02T17:01:00.001-08:002017-03-23T20:03:00.533-07:00"Let's save America by beating up everything we see." (Monica Rambeau, aka Spectrum)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ80JuQlTlJ6mvy86jE0AyOyxlKUtNFQXi1jlmQMbh90ZriCm2i2kZBJc0MpjtOdN_9EEPnZ8STlb91yJI2dymkElxbZE-_AK6KE7wCjYYhaNVaLISdfLeeEsH0qEXcRbObUNMOGrOUDwT/s1600/2970996-2761257-captainmarvel_8_thegroup_015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ80JuQlTlJ6mvy86jE0AyOyxlKUtNFQXi1jlmQMbh90ZriCm2i2kZBJc0MpjtOdN_9EEPnZ8STlb91yJI2dymkElxbZE-_AK6KE7wCjYYhaNVaLISdfLeeEsH0qEXcRbObUNMOGrOUDwT/s1600/2970996-2761257-captainmarvel_8_thegroup_015.jpg" /></a></div>
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There's an axiom that says that, as a wound heals, it shouldn't be too unexpected that you'll feel a lot of pain. That's always been my experience. And I've had a lot of wounds. And I've written about many of them here. But what's sometimes forgotten about this axiom is that the healing itself isn't always a smooth process, isn't always an act of patience or tolerance of pain. And healing isn't always peaceful, either Sometimes, the act of making things better can require more than patience and gentleness. </div>
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Sometimes, it can require a special kind of energy to achieve - a sort of healing force, an aggression directed at a problem - like re-breaking bones, attacking cancer cells.</div>
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But the key point here is this: a show of force can be beneficial, is not always harmful. It can be a show of force in the name of healing, of growth, of peace.</div>
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But as we look back at our human history, too often we seek to simplify our understanding of what it means to show force. We too often mistake the effective power of our directed energy - our personal strength, our personal power - for brute force. We, as human beings, crave simplicity. We want to be able to punch wildly at the things we don't like and save the world by doing so. We want to slay the monster and see the grateful masses swoon.</div>
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We want our monsters to be easily identified. But they're not. We want our battles to be simple matters of whomever can endure the most suffering and dish out more turning out to be on the side of good. But they're not. We want our monsters easily identified. But they're not. </div>
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Because sometimes, even when the good guys win, many people still ally themselves with the defeated monster - even as that monster is in the midst of staggering to the ground, sometimes especially then.</div>
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And they can live in their rage against the world that comes after the monster is defeated - the spectres of real change and growth that terrify them worse than any fire-breathing apparition. </div>
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They will vent that rage against anyone who lives in any way - that dares to exist in any way - that defies their demands and vicious expectations.</div>
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They'll also call such defiance "arrogant."</div>
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And, given their tendency for this rebuke, they don't just apply it to people who have great influence. For the truly hateful and bigoted, any declarative action by the targets of their hate is arrogance.They'll even extend that claim of arrogance toward mere survival, existence. It's said that living well is often the best revenge. By extension, it can also be said that merely living can be seen by some as an act of rebellion. And there are those villains among us who do not tolerate rebellion and will punish anyone who defies them and their demands for obedience. And we see the faces of the victims of those demands every day - sometimes in a way more prevalent than others.</div>
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Loud music. Loud clothes. Loud voices. The petty, despicable list of so-called offenses of those who defy the demand that they be subservient to evil's whim can go on forever ... because the actual offenses don't matter. What matters - when we analyze the truth - is the first part of their description of this defiance.</div>
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Loudness. Loudness that they hate.</div>
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And this rage on the part of the American public over the loudness of an entire group of people - it's a cycle that repeats again and again, taking on new faces into its continuing story. But that story is always the same. It is about silencing the loudness, ending the protest, controlling the narrative - defining for others what matters of life and death are really about, making sure that certain people get to decide for others what it means to fight for life, to fight for freedom, to fight for one's own survival - and whether that survival is deemed justifiable by those controlling the path of that narrative. . Standing one's ground is supposedly lauded in the name of American freedom and individuality. But how can anyone stand their ground when our culture says they're not allowed to say the ground is theirs - because when they do, they're suddenly "too loud?" And how can anyone stand their ground when white culture says they're <i>not even allowed to stand</i>? When white culture lauds and protects the folks who push others down? Makes them figures of adulation or conspicuous forgiveness?</div>
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So this so-called complexity of public discourse - the endless talking heads on the side of those who seek to maintain the quiet of anyone challenging their positions of power - is a lie. The reality is simple: get too loud, says the message from the controlling forces in America, and you will be punished. Stay quiet, stay down - and you'll be permitted to exist ... maybe ... if they feel like letting you. Today. Oh, and stay servile, the message says.</div>
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And what better way to reinforce this than through white-dominated media -- designed to make white people like me feel good about how things are now by perpetuating disingenuous representations of a past that never was that paints the real lives and struggles of real people as consumable inspiration?</div>
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Because that's what happens. And how is this accomplished? It's accomplished in a variety of ways. Maintaining tropes. Maintaining stereotypes. Maintaining harmony with what was in opposition to what is, or what could be. Telling people that being quiet and being anyone but the star of the story. Telling people that There are too many tools and weapons at the disposal of those trying to tell the world how certain groups of people ought to be than could be covered in a thousand essays - which is why there are thousands of essays about it. I urge you to seek them out. I urge to you read them. Do the work. Do the research. This predicated on the idea, of course, that you haven't already. If you have, then I apologize for spending this time going over what's already obvious.</div>
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But this piece isn't about all these tropes. Rather, it's about working to oppose these tropes when they are used against a particularly targeted group of people, and fighting them - and it's about a hero who does just that. </div>
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The targeted people are black women. The hero is <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monica_Rambeau" target="_blank">Monica Rambeau</a>.</div>
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Now, I'm a writer, as should be obvious from my blog. I love writing. I love creating characters and I love making observations about the world. Because of these tendencies on my part, I pay very close attention not just to stories - but how stories are constructed, how narratives are built, how fiction affects the real world - and vice-versa. And where black women in popular mass-consumption American media are concerned, I have noticed a LOT of the tropes I have been talking about - used consistently, as weapons, over and over again in the dominant white narrative of the media machine that moves the minds of the people of the United States. And it bothers me. A lot. It bothers me because it's invisible. It bothers me because it's vicious. It bothers me because it's racist. It bothers me because it's wrong. It bothers me because it promotes cruelty. It bothers me because it tries really hard to rob a whole group of people of their agency. It bothers me because it succeeds in robbing a whole group of people of their agency. It bothers me because it's inaccurate. It bothers me because it's a lie. It bothers me because it's sociopathic. It bothers me because it's nasty. It bothers me because it's pervasive. It bothers me because promoting it is an act of violence. It bothers me because it's literarily lazy. It bothers me because it's hurtful to real lives. And most of all? It bothers me because so few people who aren't the target of this viciousness seem to be all that interested in stopping it.</div>
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But I want to stop it. I want it to stop yesterday. I want to see black women given the chance to be their own main characters in their own stories when I read about them. I want to see black women given back the voice and agency that has been robbed from them. And you can ask why I prioritize this group, when I'm not a black women, and my response back will be "Why don't you?" And why don't you? </div>
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But with Monica Rambeau - well, she's all about taking her own agency, even from the beginning of her story.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR80TkILsjXUk3NbYgSjOWTWRx5b9QJUvvsWH6BGsvNkOy06EeX5pLin9l7Qao0kBds9JqdVAhabl7e27UP4gD7dNHVscm6ksUX3JfDcjM2nc7APHrs2TwrbRw1F9yZm9bU_mmjMcJ2B2d/s1600/photonMonica09.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR80TkILsjXUk3NbYgSjOWTWRx5b9QJUvvsWH6BGsvNkOy06EeX5pLin9l7Qao0kBds9JqdVAhabl7e27UP4gD7dNHVscm6ksUX3JfDcjM2nc7APHrs2TwrbRw1F9yZm9bU_mmjMcJ2B2d/s1600/photonMonica09.jpg" /></a></div>
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This is one of my favorite aspects of Monica - her origin. I love its brilliant old-school comic book simplicity. I love that her identity as a superhero is born of a closed fist taking action in a moment when she could have retreated, or taken no action. I love that her origin is as simple as a single act of defiance in doing what is right. That, to me, displays agency. That, to me, speaks of the healing act of force that I wrote about earlier in this piece. </div>
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She wasn't given a magic ring by some interstellar alien. She wasn't accidentally bitten by some radioactive creature. She wasn't transported through time and space to another world and declared a magical savior. She balled up her fist and struck a blow, at incredible risk to herself. She defied simply doing what she was told. She took her agency. </div>
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And then her world exploded. And she was reborn. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIfkNjlOe4D0TwscbJmNan7p8pzZYzQT4WyRdTVcTpHo43HtB4AAVhIYxBU07b7Z6r3SzLgFn54XRhmu7nf1cpgAdJ68cx2r-bFvGzCPknUYEmXnnfIwTImCCQeZp2_qkDuXwgX9QnRSfC/s1600/photonMonica10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIfkNjlOe4D0TwscbJmNan7p8pzZYzQT4WyRdTVcTpHo43HtB4AAVhIYxBU07b7Z6r3SzLgFn54XRhmu7nf1cpgAdJ68cx2r-bFvGzCPknUYEmXnnfIwTImCCQeZp2_qkDuXwgX9QnRSfC/s1600/photonMonica10.jpg" /></a></div>
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And you know what else I love about her? I love that her costume is born out of a need for practicality and not out of some absurd self-identification as a super-hero. I love that she puts on the garb of her superhero persona because she needs to wear something. </div>
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Practicality rules.</div>
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And practicality works, because it's an awesome costume, in my opinion. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg644euVJ7vcIt7MAhOammxc-bAZ3Zdr6IhvRpdO8GfsSIiPkw3a5Fj5isFBEWSuv5cBQH5UHBz5OVxymmwyJOFpCZ3YTrIPWhp5fJ9spq9e3FUPEF6zeyE61UlfghmYmsmowYANV5nrSri/s1600/photonMonica11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg644euVJ7vcIt7MAhOammxc-bAZ3Zdr6IhvRpdO8GfsSIiPkw3a5Fj5isFBEWSuv5cBQH5UHBz5OVxymmwyJOFpCZ3YTrIPWhp5fJ9spq9e3FUPEF6zeyE61UlfghmYmsmowYANV5nrSri/s1600/photonMonica11.jpg" /></a></div>
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There is no pomposity to her origin. She sees a need and takes action. She needs clothes, so she wears them. She first becomes who she is because of HER needs, what SHE wants. And it's beautiful. It's beautiful to me for all these reasons I have talked about, but also because here is a black woman who is a superhero character who - with the exception of the all-too-common-in-comics piggybacked legacy character superhero name which has since been thankfully abandoned - Monica Rambeau's origin is her story. It's not someone else's story. It's not a story of obligation. It's not a story for the benefit of some white character. It's Monica saving her world, and being rewarded with fantastic power as a result.</div>
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But that power isn't just the energy she controls and manipulates.</div>
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It's the agency with which she uses it - how she controls it - and how she controls her narrative.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTVyJtmN3D3p8X8KJeBa6DIrel1_Ai10axaQwTW0A6EB-O-YN2VQ4T1BOQ1PzyIadRO-iJN3hzkbhneOqjC664QFMCO0XNDaOiJGdYOwLnHE5mKrTz9F_PTXAlKlJUNET6GrAzR3ZRk3kT/s1600/1289626-monica_rambeau_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="530" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTVyJtmN3D3p8X8KJeBa6DIrel1_Ai10axaQwTW0A6EB-O-YN2VQ4T1BOQ1PzyIadRO-iJN3hzkbhneOqjC664QFMCO0XNDaOiJGdYOwLnHE5mKrTz9F_PTXAlKlJUNET6GrAzR3ZRk3kT/s1600/1289626-monica_rambeau_1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Monica - in her best adventures - is portrayed as a woman who uses her incredible power the way a woman with agency would use any tool. She is clearly grateful for and appreciative of the gift she has been given, but she isn't unjustly grandiose in recognizing who and what she is. She isn't arrogant in the classical definition of the word.</div>
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And that's precisely what people like her in the real world are accused of - arrogance. Black women in our culture in America who actually use their power are branded as arrogant. They are told they're too loud. They're told they're too brash. </div>
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And worst of all, they're told that it's a problem because they're too angry.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIH8acESS3PQzDcU3vFvNubyyjBe0JHmhUSthEOxZVDz5l0qP0B-5dy0bAqKPQ92d_OAGt0QaNONI1-cQMcpwucKpVdU7aWVvAkYRT_loKdFDkMSeiTBH1dYNuyWLQfImBGiTINiljJolF/s1600/photon2_super.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIH8acESS3PQzDcU3vFvNubyyjBe0JHmhUSthEOxZVDz5l0qP0B-5dy0bAqKPQ92d_OAGt0QaNONI1-cQMcpwucKpVdU7aWVvAkYRT_loKdFDkMSeiTBH1dYNuyWLQfImBGiTINiljJolF/s1600/photon2_super.jpg" width="406" /></a></div>
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I see it all the time in the real world. I see it in the way the news portrays a black woman defending herself from a violent attack. </div>
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I see it all the time in fiction. I see it in the way that black women are portrayed in sitcoms as being quiet and disinterested, distant from the action. They're allowed to comment on the action of the white characters, but they're not supposed to take their own actions. They exist to react, for supposedly-comedic effect. They're not supposed to fight for their own story. They're support, in so many cases.</div>
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Monica, however, is her own character.</div>
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She's an action hero in her own right - and she takes that action.</div>
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And it's the one thing that black women in American media are most "forbidden" to do - unless it's in the service of white people, white narrative, white stories. </div>
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But Monica is free of those kinds of restrictions - and the whole universe is open to her.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUtHM5ZtdVWjR_WAhw7Y5M_g_3pS4rUgDJBVM35jTXl0ldHgtOxEOk7ynpLunyRNrxEGDeuqN2D_Up2V8MUQLoLQZq7jg6lyFfJJoGSYXK1sl1x-t2w7GEt9d0xKv9EH0KMQYScvDeSCMN/s1600/tumblr_lhcgfgv2vR1qd4uwpo1_400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUtHM5ZtdVWjR_WAhw7Y5M_g_3pS4rUgDJBVM35jTXl0ldHgtOxEOk7ynpLunyRNrxEGDeuqN2D_Up2V8MUQLoLQZq7jg6lyFfJJoGSYXK1sl1x-t2w7GEt9d0xKv9EH0KMQYScvDeSCMN/s1600/tumblr_lhcgfgv2vR1qd4uwpo1_400.jpg" /></a></div>
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I love that image of Monica - and it illustrates another key element of her character. She's allowed to take joy in herself, in her power, in her agency.</div>
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So often, black women in the American media are portrayed as only being allowed enjoyment at the successes of white characters. Their actions benefit the white narrative and benefit the white hero.</div>
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Because black women so often aren't the central character of the narrative, their happiness becomes dependent on the advancement of the white storyline. But Monica defies this. She gets to be the hero, and she gets to take the credit, too.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigd8RVwJwk7Li3WxtJSEKsVEPUBv9Myq0gYKCkB4oBuf_OyFZGI6j9WAvgBcCnMm5EjNLpoo8cuu5Gyrp_T8BPobwm3XfpLQAZq7zjGQNMKAp6jLMGKCuARQ2vO9dtDKHzSu2fcNNObH90/s1600/MONICAscan0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigd8RVwJwk7Li3WxtJSEKsVEPUBv9Myq0gYKCkB4oBuf_OyFZGI6j9WAvgBcCnMm5EjNLpoo8cuu5Gyrp_T8BPobwm3XfpLQAZq7zjGQNMKAp6jLMGKCuARQ2vO9dtDKHzSu2fcNNObH90/s1600/MONICAscan0001.jpg" /></a></div>
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How often do we get to see black women engaged in fundamental heroism, portrayed like this in popular American media? </div>
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Not often.</div>
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Instead, we get to see what I call the Officer Hooks model. You know Officer Hooks, right? From the <i>Police Academy</i> movies?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjho57qTHgLEnX31-v_hQgh1-ihrMHQJig6kGTNwi1UjP73CXYoOsTRSieZuupmGHZsxBEe1y26sjLOk1idBX44k_pxxGyCcSZHPDy_dFUgoB8ianDZsHCVgkhindeiTtXiU0N3Zrav6k5f/s1600/14280-15046.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjho57qTHgLEnX31-v_hQgh1-ihrMHQJig6kGTNwi1UjP73CXYoOsTRSieZuupmGHZsxBEe1y26sjLOk1idBX44k_pxxGyCcSZHPDy_dFUgoB8ianDZsHCVgkhindeiTtXiU0N3Zrav6k5f/s1600/14280-15046.gif" /></a></div>
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As with most of the characters in the <i>Police Academy </i>films, Hooks is a trope who embodies a single joke. </div>
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She is portrayed as a quiet, timid woman who is incapable of asserting herself, who is railroaded by others throughout each film - mistreated, belittled, silenced ...</div>
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... until, in each film, she reaches a breaking point.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBBo0fIB7FzqherV_MTVQNlcKnC4aoe7RyNTleNsTDjD7EcehHqzAA9ECEan0v4ic14hll9I81W-GCFOwSiMP6n9Ya4n5KoBw6foudyiU9H-8Ahg5lECuUZEgikasOtgAvM4M5CDffVb1C/s1600/hooks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBBo0fIB7FzqherV_MTVQNlcKnC4aoe7RyNTleNsTDjD7EcehHqzAA9ECEan0v4ic14hll9I81W-GCFOwSiMP6n9Ya4n5KoBw6foudyiU9H-8Ahg5lECuUZEgikasOtgAvM4M5CDffVb1C/s1600/hooks.jpg" /></a></div>
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She loses her temper, and starts to scream. She gets loud.</div>
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And the audience, for the most part, laughs. Except - it's depressing for me. It's depressing because Hooks - in her moments of extreme temper - is confident and capable. But this is seen as the aberration -- as a joke, as not representative of who she usually is ... even though it's totally who she really is ... thus creating the supposed humor. But that capable woman is depicted as living in a shell of quiet timidity. And that drives me crazy, because it suggests that her loudness shouldn't be her norm. It suggests her weakness in the earlier moments is her natural state, and the film seems OK with that - and nobody remarks on those big and loud moments or suggests that she has more to her than this polarity. I know it might be seen by someone as absurd that I'm remarking on a character in a juvenile series of films, but I think it illustrates a key frustration I have with the portrayal of black women in the media.</div>
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And it's also why I love Monica's refutation of the Officer Hooks model.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYiPzS-pvZ8cBigRPTKX6WyJRHA5E_W3MDgkPFRspG_SrJBxKw50MszYrRHiyqCNSV4bzAu4bML075RCkc1klYZHAVv9JIRl4MQV3nsmbWf-UHC2uELeqOuTpX20GFuLNDyDhhLDiiFRAy/s1600/Captain+Marvel+1994.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYiPzS-pvZ8cBigRPTKX6WyJRHA5E_W3MDgkPFRspG_SrJBxKw50MszYrRHiyqCNSV4bzAu4bML075RCkc1klYZHAVv9JIRl4MQV3nsmbWf-UHC2uELeqOuTpX20GFuLNDyDhhLDiiFRAy/s1600/Captain+Marvel+1994.jpg" /></a></div>
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Monica isn't afraid to be big and bold and bright.</div>
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She declares her existence, and she fights for her existence. She fights for the existence of those she supports. </div>
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She's allowed to be the protagonist of her own destiny, when written by a good writer. She goes where she wants to go and does what she wants to do.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTj5yR_ntwXJ3z6LLBw3jCtSaYE7YUIrAi61uIAoEg4FTeJzXvswx5t8v3Dcl_Wr2s5md3VQAWYpGTY_ktk8UGyRtDvoi26i7-3by47UoVMheGtqPf2DlGuYCgl2vTrPBoAMVwc9xpjJs1/s1600/paris.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTj5yR_ntwXJ3z6LLBw3jCtSaYE7YUIrAi61uIAoEg4FTeJzXvswx5t8v3Dcl_Wr2s5md3VQAWYpGTY_ktk8UGyRtDvoi26i7-3by47UoVMheGtqPf2DlGuYCgl2vTrPBoAMVwc9xpjJs1/s1600/paris.jpg" /></a></div>
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But she isn't just a creature of whim, when she's rightly portrayed.</div>
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She recognizes the responsibilities of her power - and uses it to the advantage of all the world, not just America or more specifically white America.</div>
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And, when underestimated in her quest for justice, she fights back.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia-A-jgGHId1l5__LMyTM_6wfpNts5uy9473dxgkUIKG9SnZ5d8GbkoTAbPf3Og9rwrTUfq4pm4hCKLY3G2XJ3rLhIbGpVJJW87sy1rTdp0NtPgoLQR21pzFjR7tXjRYVHnmKDuHw8y7uK/s1600/scan0003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia-A-jgGHId1l5__LMyTM_6wfpNts5uy9473dxgkUIKG9SnZ5d8GbkoTAbPf3Og9rwrTUfq4pm4hCKLY3G2XJ3rLhIbGpVJJW87sy1rTdp0NtPgoLQR21pzFjR7tXjRYVHnmKDuHw8y7uK/s1600/scan0003.jpg" /></a></div>
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And you know what it's called when someone thinks they're so much better than someone else that they make the mistake of underestimating them?</div>
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It's called arrogance.</div>
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Be arrogant around Monica Rambeau at your peril.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijRpdJYA-wIi08KaSnvb53YUf1p80Scp9F4yB1d8krHTuZnuizRy81up9uTmBeDcTQzS8hJoQW_IsbB3piGEJSZ33-XBZG2TMFFcuuvhUwGvWHclyoaRkXmplccwZzujN-JrxsisuRaasn/s1600/scan0004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijRpdJYA-wIi08KaSnvb53YUf1p80Scp9F4yB1d8krHTuZnuizRy81up9uTmBeDcTQzS8hJoQW_IsbB3piGEJSZ33-XBZG2TMFFcuuvhUwGvWHclyoaRkXmplccwZzujN-JrxsisuRaasn/s1600/scan0004.jpg" /></a></div>
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That's Magneto, by the way, in case you don't know.</div>
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So, basically, Monica is a superhero on a level of power that can take out Magneto. </div>
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She can do a lot of things with it, in fact.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZSRzomgkR1ubnKu94F04vgBxhByqjlAnocxfqOZQx_gN4rmyA0FhYvhSqRCS0Yg0mLx60iZeKZy8QzUiDklm8L7mUzcOkm8giI7ZTdm67G23BLRTpAp0IVOQDvoC-dXL58nSHVfBwXGCD/s1600/energywebjo8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZSRzomgkR1ubnKu94F04vgBxhByqjlAnocxfqOZQx_gN4rmyA0FhYvhSqRCS0Yg0mLx60iZeKZy8QzUiDklm8L7mUzcOkm8giI7ZTdm67G23BLRTpAp0IVOQDvoC-dXL58nSHVfBwXGCD/s1600/energywebjo8.jpg" /></a></div>
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This kind of versatility allows Monica to be portrayed in all kinds of stories, and it is this versatility that shows another element of why I love Monica.</div>
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She isn't just a one-note character dedicated to the betterment of some established white character ...</div>
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... even if she is a card-carrying member of the Avengers.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGUYkrvg9x06Z8Ghug1yT4IF7-4I91n64uEyr1zM_93hV35dPe5WaAKVI218m6A41kG71YxFLS6t5VQ4glNUc_7RcFVJX_jDPAmiL6zivrylYSkxGdkONfZQHq08bUaFOE4RrjWh6Uv1_i/s1600/Pulsar-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGUYkrvg9x06Z8Ghug1yT4IF7-4I91n64uEyr1zM_93hV35dPe5WaAKVI218m6A41kG71YxFLS6t5VQ4glNUc_7RcFVJX_jDPAmiL6zivrylYSkxGdkONfZQHq08bUaFOE4RrjWh6Uv1_i/s1600/Pulsar-1.jpg" /></a></div>
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And I'd love to see her brought into the <i>Avengers</i> movie series. I hope that she'll get to be in those Marvel movies, whether her name is Captain Marvel, or Pulsar, or Photon, or her current superhero name of Spectrum.</div>
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Because it isn't her name that matters. </div>
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It's her character - her heroism, her bravery, her courage, her identity that makes her great. She's great because she's Monica Rambeau. She's great because she exists for herself even as she protects others. She's great because of the limitless potenti - l for adventures that are inherent in this character. She's a character who can be used to tell any story, reach any location, fight any battle and come out victorious on the other end. That' the mark of a great superhero character, a great hero character, a great character period - that you could put that character into any kind of story and know that the character could carry the story, could keep the interest of the audience.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy0YbQn26B5j9JkLyZYV-32YkJXXRstOJhmmsVrIqgFf8Vw_oABBjtd956i6eBG2fXSpBz7ayKnVt6WPcrPfiPrmJ9mzSkpzeX2A0le_zun3fAVDHdswGhJdj2i5teK6hyaNsvc62lV4VU/s1600/gammabeam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy0YbQn26B5j9JkLyZYV-32YkJXXRstOJhmmsVrIqgFf8Vw_oABBjtd956i6eBG2fXSpBz7ayKnVt6WPcrPfiPrmJ9mzSkpzeX2A0le_zun3fAVDHdswGhJdj2i5teK6hyaNsvc62lV4VU/s1600/gammabeam.jpg" /></a></div>
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And I want to see her in those different kinds of stories, want to see her represent a black woman with agency who takes agency - not from improper arrogance, but from justified pride ... and for that pride to be portrayed specifically as justified, rather than catering to the claims that any black woman who says or does anything of note is too loud, too arrogant, too proud.</div>
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Because it's good to be proud of yourself.</div>
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It's good to be loud if you're calling out injustice, or fighting to save other people from those who've wronged them again and again.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLWfa2AMG17E_37us8I-jOX6UpNs6dHQBqqX59uJfaGbw4zMzAEwgPnREGvq6WYnpPtBVITdJdA17-VxiV3rM_XRs-I75p-lMZJEE_ZCarJusuoEopMye7BzDOFY-hzEnVhNMVx8b4-JMk/s1600/monicaracefight4-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLWfa2AMG17E_37us8I-jOX6UpNs6dHQBqqX59uJfaGbw4zMzAEwgPnREGvq6WYnpPtBVITdJdA17-VxiV3rM_XRs-I75p-lMZJEE_ZCarJusuoEopMye7BzDOFY-hzEnVhNMVx8b4-JMk/s1600/monicaracefight4-1.jpg" /></a></div>
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Real, unadulterated strength - and the agency it brings - are vilified so often when they're afforded to black women. A woman takes her strength, and in so doing she becomes branded a criminal or a rebel.</div>
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But taking strength is necessary in acquiring agency.</div>
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And fighting against the mad screams of the oppressive means being louder than those screams. And fighting the silencing shadows of cruelty means shining like a beacon.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXz_rt8j665jleuvY6DdHvm-IbySkAJZnW4CXsoesSxhyphenhyphenRZ9ER9LSN2Ty8pHRAY05r5CqAcoSxsG9HW5aw-_r_BwPtUvPpCMqOld4S1zmoKuuDW8gGok5PHRaqxkli-qDb6lxyXNigIIpK/s1600/photon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXz_rt8j665jleuvY6DdHvm-IbySkAJZnW4CXsoesSxhyphenhyphenRZ9ER9LSN2Ty8pHRAY05r5CqAcoSxsG9HW5aw-_r_BwPtUvPpCMqOld4S1zmoKuuDW8gGok5PHRaqxkli-qDb6lxyXNigIIpK/s1600/photon.jpg" /></a></div>
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And Monica shines.</div>
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And Monica fights.</div>
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And, by even her existence in her world, she's loud.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkrTEF9rGg66kmNGuLJqu9QbMARtjKNn-EkGWx-7YPS5T9fq5-NuTERbtQwh8V_15TP5u5_VGeoYgOflNFjMBMIi1o9wqx-G34wY08IK-Q-Pz8d22KY1wkQkTxByZhA8HlcLmM-Db1e0S5/s1600/Monica_Rambeau.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkrTEF9rGg66kmNGuLJqu9QbMARtjKNn-EkGWx-7YPS5T9fq5-NuTERbtQwh8V_15TP5u5_VGeoYgOflNFjMBMIi1o9wqx-G34wY08IK-Q-Pz8d22KY1wkQkTxByZhA8HlcLmM-Db1e0S5/s1600/Monica_Rambeau.jpg" /></a></div>
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And that's why I love her.</div>
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And that's why I hope she continues to be a vibrant part of the <a href="http://marvel.com/" target="_blank">Marvel</a> Universe. </div>
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She's not afraid to tell the world who she is.</div>
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And it's why I think the character has endured, and will continue to endure.</div>
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Because at the heart of Monica Rambeau's portrayals ...</div>
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... even the artists recognize the facts about her.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz3sd6FNU7noMzNKnFh0odWGs2xoYq6ya_L2cqZCqv5EWXJLEMtbW-nZCp9hh2UbqWoz4DOidB6mp2Em35g6vrZiCTKyB2HPgpuJTaHYwU13HWOlLocInlgc2ORfHkgjX-AgCCvvA0bVWR/s1600/tumblr_lu36jlfbZ01qc63ooo1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz3sd6FNU7noMzNKnFh0odWGs2xoYq6ya_L2cqZCqv5EWXJLEMtbW-nZCp9hh2UbqWoz4DOidB6mp2Em35g6vrZiCTKyB2HPgpuJTaHYwU13HWOlLocInlgc2ORfHkgjX-AgCCvvA0bVWR/s1600/tumblr_lu36jlfbZ01qc63ooo1_1280.jpg" /></a></div>
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She's tough. She endures. But it's way more than that. She's way more than that. Thanks to those times when she's handled by good writers, she also gets to be seen in a way where she openly feels and loves and observes -- and she saves and changes the world. Agency. Which is so important to modern comics writing, especially of minority characters. </div>
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Which is why Monica's one of the best superheroes there is, especially when you consider the long and storied career she has. </div>
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I love seeing how far she's come. And I love seeing where I hope she's going.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie6YINUN3dbjmjER4lFjfGcsQ2GvDqiSl6z2OzlpgfRb2U3FALCHNMRXot7W_wK6uu8N3UUjniiigI-UORN5TgcCcvAtR_hXxUMCa0xbzbytZdxWp9B7Z8OZwfN51vyt48HbPdXWmr-Ab8/s1600/monica_rambeau_by_thewipeout-d6ym4d4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie6YINUN3dbjmjER4lFjfGcsQ2GvDqiSl6z2OzlpgfRb2U3FALCHNMRXot7W_wK6uu8N3UUjniiigI-UORN5TgcCcvAtR_hXxUMCa0xbzbytZdxWp9B7Z8OZwfN51vyt48HbPdXWmr-Ab8/s1600/monica_rambeau_by_thewipeout-d6ym4d4.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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And I also want to take this piece to mention some of the wonderful women I've come to meet on Twitter, like the remarkable <a href="https://twitter.com/Blackamazon" target="_blank">Sydette</a>, or<a href="https://twitter.com/Skyliting" target="_blank"> Indigo</a>, or <a href="https://twitter.com/TheAngryFangirl" target="_blank">Womanist Gamer Girl</a> or <a href="https://twitter.com/AngryBlackLady" target="_blank">Imani ABL</a>.</div>
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There are amazing people in the real world whose minds are filled with depth and emotion and truth. I cherish their friendship far more than I would ever cherish any fictional character. I've talked about real issues mixed in with these fictional characters I celebrate, but I want to take special mention to these four who led me to be inspired to write this piece today.</div>
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Do follow them. Do respect them. Do give them their deserved agency. And don't mess with any of them! Respect their existence - their thoughts and their lives. And fight for the lives of everyone who deserves agency. Fighting for someone's agency really is fighting for their lives. </div>
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Support the freedom of all people to have that agency you enjoy, if you see that they aren't being given it because of the injustices of the world. </div>
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Fight with the tools you have, as best you can. Because chances are that people who aren't being given agency are fighting for survival, already fighting for a voice.</div>
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And everyone who counts themselves a human being is wounded when one of us is attacked.</div>
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And on this subject of support, I'd also like to urge you if you're reading this to support black women who are comic book creators. Support black women who are writers. Support black women who are artists. </div>
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Support real black women in your real life. </div>
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Let them fly, too. Save America. Beat up everything that's oppressive in its structure and culture and identity. Make the world better. Heal with the force you possess - the truth inside, the power of love, the strength that comes with accepting diverse agency and identity. </div>
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Dee Emm Elmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14053652749413575579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1555007489284044452.post-92067968069669088092014-03-02T09:30:00.005-08:002014-03-02T09:30:56.131-08:00"I'll say it myself - adventure awaits!" (Dee Emm Elms)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
Note: I have revised the text of this piece. I originally wrote the material to represent a journey of personal discovery, using pronouns artistically to express my journey through the way that other people saw me in the first half and following that up with gender-appropriate pronouns in the second half to express my personal freedom. I thought this would be appropriate, and saw no reason not to share in this journey of my life. But this has been used to attack me ... and to attack other people, to deny the life experiences of many people. And my art and my identity should not be used in this fashion. As a result, I have eliminated this artistic expression to reflect a fundamental gender reality that I feel is important for others to understand. Sometimes, the message can be lost in the art. I fear that's what happened here. Please enjoy the revised edition, and I thank you for your courtesy and understanding. </div>
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"I'll say it myself - adventure awaits!" (Dee Emm Elms)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm-Meco0vhRYSMsUwrP-dfj7M5iTBcplM_OBJmvDOAHBNWIGovmwtTxF23ghLEHH7IQhSfEKopyukJTDgy7FxmSJ2_R_culpTZJnv_Ik1PNe97ZWm84pWfSn-2y3i8sYvrdRpqFr9v_mHL/s1600/princessage1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm-Meco0vhRYSMsUwrP-dfj7M5iTBcplM_OBJmvDOAHBNWIGovmwtTxF23ghLEHH7IQhSfEKopyukJTDgy7FxmSJ2_R_culpTZJnv_Ik1PNe97ZWm84pWfSn-2y3i8sYvrdRpqFr9v_mHL/s1600/princessage1.jpg" height="640" width="514" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">Once upon a time, there was a little kid whose favorite clothes were the pink pajamas that the kid had gotten for this third birthday. </span></div>
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<span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">So, this kid lived in upstate New York, among other places. The kid's family tended to move a bit. The kid's favorite food was pancakes. These facts may not seem important, but every detail of a person's life paints the greater picture.</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">This kid LOVED birthday parties, because it meant lots of pink everywhere (the kid's favorite color) and it meant a special pancake breakfast, new pajamas & getting to watch favorite TV shows instead of dad's baseball.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPVZp7u1re-I82A9quIGvzqXx8hMmnjMfobfDIE2q9tcSf-4LJABd8CmOQvRGO3vVlNLjyemxT0f2UhY_tpowBmjqvsfwqvOWxwH3tNdnqDeJ9CW1GMOvChTLw9ylIwkA9MnrqAK6Conlb/s1600/wonderwomanlynda.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPVZp7u1re-I82A9quIGvzqXx8hMmnjMfobfDIE2q9tcSf-4LJABd8CmOQvRGO3vVlNLjyemxT0f2UhY_tpowBmjqvsfwqvOWxwH3tNdnqDeJ9CW1GMOvChTLw9ylIwkA9MnrqAK6Conlb/s1600/wonderwomanlynda.jpg" height="481" width="640" /></a></div>
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In 1975, the kid's favorite TV show was WONDER WOMAN.<br />
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The kid LOVED Lynda Carter.<br />
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The kid's mother remarked how her child must have a crush on Wonder Woman. Mom was wrong. The kid wanted to BE Wonder Woman. <i>Moms can be weird</i>, the kid sometimes thought.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyVeAlZc2aAAVO_YcOTD0IlNTYqhWYDlem3cw0CgPffYUM6vs9DEbuyUg9exgw82JeaNZdcIUvvBncrRsrb15O9A0ngaYkpck3uW9Z8CEqnb5cK4hozODHKapE7eSH0pWUStguBbAAJheb/s1600/charlie__s_angel__s_vector_by_silvercatclaws-d4xn347.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyVeAlZc2aAAVO_YcOTD0IlNTYqhWYDlem3cw0CgPffYUM6vs9DEbuyUg9exgw82JeaNZdcIUvvBncrRsrb15O9A0ngaYkpck3uW9Z8CEqnb5cK4hozODHKapE7eSH0pWUStguBbAAJheb/s1600/charlie__s_angel__s_vector_by_silvercatclaws-d4xn347.png" height="220" width="320" /></a></div>
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The kid would soon come to love another TV show called CHARLIE'S ANGELS.<br />
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Later in the kid's life, the kid would learn that people dismissed CHARLIE'S ANGELS show as "Jiggle TV" - but that was totally and completely lost on the kid, because this kid didn't see a hint of "Jiggle TV."<br />
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All he saw at that time was a story of three women who weren't seen for who and what they were in life, and that was something with which the kid could very much identify.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/PcwPo37Q23w?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">What did both shows have in common? Female "super" heroes, whether they were skilled detectives or Amazonian warriors. And the 1970s were a wonderful time for heroes like that on television, in books, in movies, everywhere. </span><br />
<span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br /></span><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">And it didn't take the kid long to discover a sense of self, a sense of identity in those heroines, much more so than any male characters. </span><br />
<span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br /></span><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">No matter how the kid's mom dressed the child for picture-day, this kid felt more like one of the Angels than a Bosley.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCYGCsjFxUamdJsZ66H9wqAvALe9AOi6OC0-DMLYLeMe4BSDztE5SjOVycBJXJzzRrzxpaty9RJWw8gbYKGDxMZaaVTSuSP8xkUyAI9SJGk3UmI9Nop36flvXB0hKFRbcMLHGY_x-f4zMJ/s1600/Princessage3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCYGCsjFxUamdJsZ66H9wqAvALe9AOi6OC0-DMLYLeMe4BSDztE5SjOVycBJXJzzRrzxpaty9RJWw8gbYKGDxMZaaVTSuSP8xkUyAI9SJGk3UmI9Nop36flvXB0hKFRbcMLHGY_x-f4zMJ/s640/Princessage3.jpg" height="640" width="448" /></a></div>
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One day, in 1978, a new TV show appeared called BATTLESTAR GALACTICA. The kid saw it and idolized Laurette Spang's Cassiopeia. </div>
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The kid really admired how Laurette's character cared for and helped people in times of war. </div>
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The kid got to meet Ms. Spang, and get her autograph at a car show, but not before posing in front of a custom CHARLIE'S ANGELS van. The kid was trying to look like Jaclyn Smith, but nobody else knew that at the time.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Q7b5f3UCe-66uPTfqoSWQmWEr2AKOUoXzT2QyP8vVRUthcpwu6aIuQzuYh6bE5FcR7Ov3u4bpz-oWKIwCSnkr5y7JgZm0SoIG2ShWh7ADi6akj-tk4Srgt4JPu_irdyoEZ1e_6uHiY7d/s1600/princessage2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Q7b5f3UCe-66uPTfqoSWQmWEr2AKOUoXzT2QyP8vVRUthcpwu6aIuQzuYh6bE5FcR7Ov3u4bpz-oWKIwCSnkr5y7JgZm0SoIG2ShWh7ADi6akj-tk4Srgt4JPu_irdyoEZ1e_6uHiY7d/s640/princessage2.jpg" height="640" width="598" /></a><br />
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<span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">Time passed, and the kid grew. Through it all were the heroes - who were for the most part heroines. </span></div>
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<span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">That's really, deep down, how the kid identified, and it's how the kid acted. All friends were girls. This kid couldn't handle hanging out with and trying to be one of the rough-and-tumble guys. The kid just didn't "get" that. </span></div>
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<span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">The kid much preferred this close circle of female friends, and that's with whom time was spent the majority of days.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNFNBMvdmbr_4KFKNIpWlC9mLyuCJKDFotTgrk8ULavvXMg-RnODMgTT5u0eldz-T5n_yqbrivxRFebhlUE5u4USmA1XPF8fC5K2lw3-5o0DR6YjtVkzeLd0e2qZbMIiqh1YuW2hv4Nmju/s1600/princessage4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNFNBMvdmbr_4KFKNIpWlC9mLyuCJKDFotTgrk8ULavvXMg-RnODMgTT5u0eldz-T5n_yqbrivxRFebhlUE5u4USmA1XPF8fC5K2lw3-5o0DR6YjtVkzeLd0e2qZbMIiqh1YuW2hv4Nmju/s1600/princessage4.jpg" height="640" width="422" /></a></div>
<br />
Still, there were some things boys liked that the kid liked, too.<br />
<br />
The kid enjoyed professional wrestling, watched action movies, watched bull-riding and rodeo.<br />
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And - well, this kid absolutely LOVED comic books.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4P1QGY3101zJqr7zxOgb7fHH4739aZmpwIfIWGcrQHgs7nXSdLF6zlXxZuB297hh3QcKjaifrKERUDTdc5ipyUKMI0Pv9BofAinbvrmMBYWXGsb_85KfKL1DOt3ul0UJeiB9jukX2idiP/s1600/Man-ThingGS01_00.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4P1QGY3101zJqr7zxOgb7fHH4739aZmpwIfIWGcrQHgs7nXSdLF6zlXxZuB297hh3QcKjaifrKERUDTdc5ipyUKMI0Pv9BofAinbvrmMBYWXGsb_85KfKL1DOt3ul0UJeiB9jukX2idiP/s1600/Man-ThingGS01_00.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
<br />
Perhaps the universe was enjoying a bit of irony that the first comic the kid's parents ever bought for their child was a book called GIANT-SIZED MAN-THING #1. Perhaps not.<br />
<br />
But that didn't change the fact that the first comic the kid bought with the kid's <i>own </i>money - earned washing down driveways and doing other chores - was a comic with a cover that told instantly that here was one of the greatest heroes who had ever come into the world of fiction. But, it wasn't Spider-Man. It wasn't Iron Man. It wasn't Nightcrawler. And it certainly wasn't the Enchantress.<br />
<br />
It was DAZZLER. Dazzler was ... it.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimx0erxXIcxNtyVjP_ub1ekZ9I3zf4T_7xrtzhB8ceENaBnl7cGgfPHe0Oy0pkb1Gt7PJwTcYllJFfYQ2zRjjfqS_IHuuDV_swfbQweFe0oKfgbHDRRS7a8IO3lNwDsJT5fnOG2ozcoXD5/s1600/dazzler1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimx0erxXIcxNtyVjP_ub1ekZ9I3zf4T_7xrtzhB8ceENaBnl7cGgfPHe0Oy0pkb1Gt7PJwTcYllJFfYQ2zRjjfqS_IHuuDV_swfbQweFe0oKfgbHDRRS7a8IO3lNwDsJT5fnOG2ozcoXD5/s1600/dazzler1.jpg" height="640" width="412" /></a></div>
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Now, there's a famous musical familiar to many that talks about asking oneself how one measures one's life. </div>
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One of the things the musical doesn't mention as a possible measure is the time between publication of each new issue of DAZZLER, but that's one of the many ways the kid measured time itself. </div>
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Of course, since DAZZLER didn't come out every day, the kid discovered that there were other comics out there, with characters familiar to the kid - known from even early childhood like the aforementioned WONDER WOMAN. But there were also new characters like Valkyrie - who was simply AWESOME.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtxgWb1BDd2RkETzZJQgjxnEAQyo4kMYyOvXMiL33aWobDpL8bHdSHpzEXob4N-ziebnFPTHte-K01H1THJIo-ogKKRO9DhHZeaEF875bdRNI_8vP5i_fXwWtxethREOj-qKfKIaQ5U8_P/s1600/tumblr_meisuvryP51r89a2ho1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtxgWb1BDd2RkETzZJQgjxnEAQyo4kMYyOvXMiL33aWobDpL8bHdSHpzEXob4N-ziebnFPTHte-K01H1THJIo-ogKKRO9DhHZeaEF875bdRNI_8vP5i_fXwWtxethREOj-qKfKIaQ5U8_P/s1600/tumblr_meisuvryP51r89a2ho1_1280.jpg" height="640" width="452" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
As the years continued, the kid became a teen. This fierce love of female superheroes did not abate; instead, it grew - and a love of comics grew along with it.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The kid collected more and more comics; most featured strong women with whom the kid could easily identify in sharing their adventures. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
You see, the teen had come to realize over the course of these years of life something fundamental. The teen identified far more as a girl than as a boy. So, this teen found in these courageous heroines the courage to keep going despite a lot of suffering and conflict.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizaxxJ1T6z2YmS7xsEV0jjegypLGC9xVkjNevxYyVYvovlistlD1VUpHs200HZvwCklEyt-3tAhH7GLOTbT58c_csmE4YUT98vSXfRMOWQJZI-oKeIpt1wgXn3tHqj4EmtQf-tM8TABu08/s1600/princessage5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizaxxJ1T6z2YmS7xsEV0jjegypLGC9xVkjNevxYyVYvovlistlD1VUpHs200HZvwCklEyt-3tAhH7GLOTbT58c_csmE4YUT98vSXfRMOWQJZI-oKeIpt1wgXn3tHqj4EmtQf-tM8TABu08/s640/princessage5.jpg" height="400" width="378" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="text-align: justify;">By the time the teen got to college, the teen had a huge comic book collection that was primarily occupied with these inspirational, heroic adventures of women through whom the teen could find the hope of a better future, a hopeful future.</span><br />
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The teen, you see, had to learn to be all right with a conflict between what the world saw and what the reality really was. </div>
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For medical reasons, the teen wasn't going to be able to try to medically correct what had to be a mistake of nature, could perhaps instead rise above that in other ways - could try to be like the heroes of the comics in terms of their ethos, their values - like the values of Diana Prince.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlgE0A_c4fEA6D3y4vsJBtAI5KkymX5Kb4S0MZ6bXcZ0u69Cutdfqs_HoVts1IzVwy88BEICauSw7GaWdmOJxIxGCqlnLB3Mo8zcBHW7N88Bv92pzlH3F7Y9daDXj1DHGHTuy4Pszyt_e7/s1600/princessage6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlgE0A_c4fEA6D3y4vsJBtAI5KkymX5Kb4S0MZ6bXcZ0u69Cutdfqs_HoVts1IzVwy88BEICauSw7GaWdmOJxIxGCqlnLB3Mo8zcBHW7N88Bv92pzlH3F7Y9daDXj1DHGHTuy4Pszyt_e7/s1600/princessage6.jpg" height="400" width="350" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
However, the teen knew that the family back home wouldn't understand any of this - no matter what was said or done. Still, they supported the teen's goals without realizing it - through supporting the purpose of this mental lifeline, the comics. They tried, at least, to understand that much. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The only person in the family the teen told about this great secret, this true self was the family dog. Dogs, as a rule, are a lot less judgmental about gender issues. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And if Kara could have a Legion of Super-Pets, why couldn't the teen?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0jbqaD-ZSxpMsbWusO-HahmqQPQfo2mfvwXf9IoOlEL-OFpxYY1BzhOOvF43bv8kWUN5Wu63OUlv9y5d4Eyrulz3_1W0pJcmdGiDrz8mqeJdYAEywNBJnGAMm3_eOtWwoWIG6ycm-J3Lz/s1600/princessage7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0jbqaD-ZSxpMsbWusO-HahmqQPQfo2mfvwXf9IoOlEL-OFpxYY1BzhOOvF43bv8kWUN5Wu63OUlv9y5d4Eyrulz3_1W0pJcmdGiDrz8mqeJdYAEywNBJnGAMm3_eOtWwoWIG6ycm-J3Lz/s1600/princessage7.jpg" height="400" width="352" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
College came and went, but the heroes didn't. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This teen, now a collegiate, decided that an unique life had been given to be used - those experiences that made the collegiate a person who was unique and special; meant a responsibility and a purpose, which was to be a writer, to share these experiences of life and help other people deal with finding balance in their own lives and with their own bodies and minds - and to celebrate the spirit of feminine heroism that got the collegiate tough times to such a degree that he never lost hope, never gave up, never despaired. </div>
<br />
How COULD someone like that give in to despair? It wasn't an option.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyzXKAAV_KgUNWD8YFILRRQrBbCwiDbKQTCJt1jftjz7CCp3oG72acvob29Y6J42zzps_S8oJ5XgPKcwW4YsjDtpYkfW8xCfmL5B3hiN79BroTVkmB0AFznaYOga5j4aelOjTIczSXmmBz/s1600/princessage8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyzXKAAV_KgUNWD8YFILRRQrBbCwiDbKQTCJt1jftjz7CCp3oG72acvob29Y6J42zzps_S8oJ5XgPKcwW4YsjDtpYkfW8xCfmL5B3hiN79BroTVkmB0AFznaYOga5j4aelOjTIczSXmmBz/s1600/princessage8.jpg" height="400" width="283" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Because that's not what Princess Diana would do. That's not what Teela would do.<br />
<br />
They simply wouldn't - not ever. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And so was created a place where people could celebrate those heroes of the four-color world, warriors and princesses that inspired with their strength and determination.</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNjKw5MuP_bNhzNsyDZu7gS-PsQa1m8gJVNUsn5hPBpaSN_68jkina3kDYVaiHYhdlt8-LKb5rXfaLagjk4huLTFEhOMp7bfEz7tMmqRkpHYN_5VKK_CzI3Wxnv1E8aPWNo5UWZdgxG1_w/s1600/wonderwoman1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNjKw5MuP_bNhzNsyDZu7gS-PsQa1m8gJVNUsn5hPBpaSN_68jkina3kDYVaiHYhdlt8-LKb5rXfaLagjk4huLTFEhOMp7bfEz7tMmqRkpHYN_5VKK_CzI3Wxnv1E8aPWNo5UWZdgxG1_w/s1600/wonderwoman1.jpg" height="400" width="257" /></a></div>
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</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And that would be this place - a place meant to celebrate the ideas of heroism found in the exploits of these amazing women of fiction. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It would also be a place where people could help each other to be brave, to tell the world their stories and to show courage while knowing that the real world is not always friendly to those heroes, or those who appreciate them, or those who are different.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So join if you like in this journey - because I was that kid, that teen, that collegiate. I am that girl, that woman. And I love my life. And I am one of these heroes. This life is my adventure. I'll say it myself - adventure awaits!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1KE-DW9aHdSUDTvC9vLzWEauzx1mxgYSB7BrJvPLG7lDcUnK0c3jPLyZOInYAsrKAkOW-VFGX-WlnDImrwVdZsymJ8X1DGmVEpASM44jvjDcL0x6cqm6ylKiWxJc5bJ-SjwZ5QGnXYsDO/s1600/teela1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1KE-DW9aHdSUDTvC9vLzWEauzx1mxgYSB7BrJvPLG7lDcUnK0c3jPLyZOInYAsrKAkOW-VFGX-WlnDImrwVdZsymJ8X1DGmVEpASM44jvjDcL0x6cqm6ylKiWxJc5bJ-SjwZ5QGnXYsDO/s1600/teela1.jpg" height="640" width="422" /></a></div>
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Dee Emm Elmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14053652749413575579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1555007489284044452.post-72658233961482928832014-02-16T22:19:00.004-08:002014-02-17T09:58:55.877-08:00"Oh, you just figured that one out?" (Kimberly Ann Hart, aka The Pink Power Ranger)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiau5MJPYjqRHg3oflL4KRTiq4jl-ttmr64O1lonpJiQloHwMab7HLFfCg1A6NhgA_KPXthcGkhcSKZ4_VNViKdeG1U_htZY3mYPwRzs9VbkJGWDIglfNHBm6Yq1zwCDfklrR4R4vagKjnI/s1600/Kimbery_morph_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiau5MJPYjqRHg3oflL4KRTiq4jl-ttmr64O1lonpJiQloHwMab7HLFfCg1A6NhgA_KPXthcGkhcSKZ4_VNViKdeG1U_htZY3mYPwRzs9VbkJGWDIglfNHBm6Yq1zwCDfklrR4R4vagKjnI/s1600/Kimbery_morph_2.jpg" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
I've been thinking a lot about the idea of teamwork.</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
I've had good reason. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Whole communities of people seem to be metaphorically exploding all around me. And I'm feeling the heat from those explosions.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqMWd_B-dTDn65IK7WwcHhptwWkKOx4kIzLE4raNCyyYGcyOAB_N05Pak_kM4CI1Pxf3Wba422ENWEOenYaH6eVulODMAQmBQmNruoDAecroLjm2Beh5KDkORJKh40vt1dlKm_H7-kqzHP/s1600/tumblr_mqi9zycFeE1rcqnnxo2_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqMWd_B-dTDn65IK7WwcHhptwWkKOx4kIzLE4raNCyyYGcyOAB_N05Pak_kM4CI1Pxf3Wba422ENWEOenYaH6eVulODMAQmBQmNruoDAecroLjm2Beh5KDkORJKh40vt1dlKm_H7-kqzHP/s1600/tumblr_mqi9zycFeE1rcqnnxo2_500.gif" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
Now, this isn't entirely unexpected. I usually expect that when any group of people come together in the same space, whether real or virtual, there's going to be some degree of conflict. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But what I'm observing is a different kind of antagonism. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It's an antagonism that seems to be coming from within groups of people - a battle over terms, concepts, definitions. In other words, it's a border war between people who should be working together within the same borders.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCP6inY9nMs-N9ztIxmP6H-D6Y_N1eX1bG0SVnRQ1C9izHNyGr7JQ0sszfCUkhrG6hQtHffAE_KdFz8xc6cuuWv6wjf0yR0SDmo41XFAyD-_GEUK6lcMapdZdN6VKyMoeJFIqiBKGDb99Z/s1600/maxresdefault.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCP6inY9nMs-N9ztIxmP6H-D6Y_N1eX1bG0SVnRQ1C9izHNyGr7JQ0sszfCUkhrG6hQtHffAE_KdFz8xc6cuuWv6wjf0yR0SDmo41XFAyD-_GEUK6lcMapdZdN6VKyMoeJFIqiBKGDb99Z/s1600/maxresdefault.jpg" height="224" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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Readers who know me should know that I'm not here to attack anybody. I don't think there's much benefit in antagonism. In fact, it's sort of the opposite of the harmony I try to achieve in my own viewpoint and in the world around me. So, I'm not going to address specific individuals - mostly, because it doesn't matter whether everyone agrees with me or not. That's, you know, kind of the point of not antagonizing other people, even when I disagree with them.</div>
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<br /></div>
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But, as I said, it got me thinking about what it means to be part of a team - which, in turn, led me to think about Power Rangers.</div>
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Yeah, you heard me.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGBIoCUTVmqwOP_Cc6ESltinWPMQLMido6hBGlnCbM_ETjKcS5V1TrHww1WY15M-Ps__pJj7ECR-U76fGaV2XuxiPeovF1JSBFG1RVejedTxgk_gMgWQo7aYgTtIcN1eVI3YaJdgo_r-b2/s1600/power-rangers-o.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGBIoCUTVmqwOP_Cc6ESltinWPMQLMido6hBGlnCbM_ETjKcS5V1TrHww1WY15M-Ps__pJj7ECR-U76fGaV2XuxiPeovF1JSBFG1RVejedTxgk_gMgWQo7aYgTtIcN1eVI3YaJdgo_r-b2/s1600/power-rangers-o.gif" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
Now, to say that not many people take the Power Rangers seriously would be a big understatement.<br />
<br />
To be fair, the Power Rangers phenomenon is - for the most part - pretty specific to a certain group of people who were kids at a certain time in a few certain places. <br />
<br />
But that realization only added to the certainty that I was on the right mental track in trying to come to terms with the problems I've had in dealing with all this conflict that's been going on around me.<br />
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<br />
You see, I love the Power Rangers. <br />
<br />
I really do.<br />
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And I don't care who on the internet or in the world beyond the internet knows it.<br />
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"PTERODACTYL!"<br />
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So, this is usually the part of a blog like this where someone says something like: "If you're the kind of person who just can't accept an adult loving the Power Rangers, then GTFO." </div>
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That, of course, would defeat the purpose of what I'm trying to say. <br />
<br />
Instead, I'll ask you to stick around and hear me out on this. I'll ask you to listen. The fact that many will see mine as an untenable position here isn't the point. The point is that I'm reaching out and asking, with sincerity, that you read this and think about what I'm saying. Is it fantasy to hope some people might stick around and keep reading? Maybe. But I try to believe there's still a little magic in my world. <br />
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But it isn't the kind of magic that creates sparkles and light shows, of course. It's the kind of magic that comes from having self-confidence. You see, if the rest of the world doesn't agree with me about loving the Power Rangers, that's OK. They don't have to agree with me. They can stand at the top of the tallest building in the world and shout that I'm the worst human being alive. And they can do it with the knowledge that I'll still love the Power Rangers before they start that ascent and after they come back down the elevator to the ground floor.<br />
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It doesn't matter how much they try to shout me down, because I know I'm right. I know my own mind. And, for me, that's enough. And it makes me truly happy to have that confidence.<br />
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But it's not enough to keep some people happy.<br />
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For some people, happiness can only seem to be achieved if there is an accord - one that is universal, and generally achieved by force. The chief villain of the original series, Rita Repulsa, shown just above, was one such type of character.<br />
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It's not my way - but for some, it is theirs.<br />
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And they don't often come alone.<br />
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Despotic folks are often legion. They're often just as dedicated in the name of their quest for exclusion and supremacy as human beings can get.<br />
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And they attract others by appealing to their worst characteristics. And it works.<br />
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And these despotic people can amass armies - even if they have to create them from a mold, out of next-to-nothing.<br />
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<i>But Dee</i>, I hear some people saying, <i>isn't loving the Power Rangers just your opinion? And isn't it OK for people to have different opinions, and come together to mutually agree about those opinions? Isn't that what makes communities? People sharing their common beliefs and common interests and common values?</i><br />
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And my answer is, of course people in the same group often share the same beliefs, often come together because of those beliefs.<br />
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But here's where it starts to become a problem: the moment people decide that their beliefs and their interests and their values supercede everyone else's, to the point that they start to declare that their whole world -<i> the </i>whole world - must not only accommodate their opinions, but also accommodate their actions ... and accommodate their demands as they rain them down upon the world from what they consider their vaunted, elevated position.<br />
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And you know what that is? That's called villainy.<br />
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And not just villainy - it's super-villainy.<br />
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And it's not just super-villainy - it's cartoon super-villainy.<br />
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And that's why - when I see people being so despotic in the real world - I feel sad for them, even as they try to draw me into some kind of rageful response. I refuse to buy in to that kind of thinking, no matter how ... repulsive ... their behavior can become.<br />
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And that's because I still acknowledge their value as human beings, even if they don't acknowledge mine. It's because I fight for their freedoms, even though they don't want to accept my existence. I keep my doors open, even as they work feverishly to slam theirs shut in my face and remind me of how far outside those doors I am in their eyes.<br />
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And you know how I can do this? I can do this because I have a power that they lack - a power that may seem unfathomable to them, but which comes as second nature to me as breathing. It's a power that glows with warmth inside of me, and makes me infinitely stronger than them.<br />
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It's a power called empathy.<br />
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And it brings light to my whole world, and protects me.<br />
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You might say that my empathy is my armor.<br />
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Empathy helps me to understand that even the worst-behaved people out there are human. As I said before, I'm not interested in attacking any specific people with harsh words or judgments. I'm trying to keep this more general - <i>because</i> I have empathy. </div>
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I don't want to antagonize others - because I have empathy for their feelings. I don't want them to feel like they have to conform to my viewpoints over their own - because I have empathy for their views.</div>
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I also think they <i>should</i> respect differences of opinions, even as I know that they surely won't. I know that some people don't want to be inclusive. They want only to be exclusive, to have the biggest and best clubhouse in the galaxy where they may look from an authoritative position on the world.</div>
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That makes me sad - but it doesn't make me hate them, because I also know that they're people dealing with their own lives, their own issues, their own dramas.</div>
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And, heck - I'm autistic. I'm not even supposed to have much empathy. And yet, I have more than the many out there who have no regard for anyone who isn't like themselves. </div>
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But my empathy doesn't just shield me. It strengthens me by giving me the skills I need to deal with a world full of people that are sometimes hostile, sometimes cruel.</div>
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I think this is also a part of the reason why the Power Rangers resonated with many children and some adults. </div>
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Most children have very little power in the world, and know how powerless they are in the living of their day-to-day lives. Some adults who are disenfranchised by the social and cultural norms of modern society often feel the same sense of powerlessness.</div>
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Who, in that position, wouldn't want to be chosen by some mysterious force and given strength they can only pretend to have? Who, young or old, lives in that condition of helplessness and doesn't dream of being so empowered?</div>
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And my empathy empowers me in other ways, too. </div>
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Empathy can also be a very powerful weapon.</div>
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Great care, however, must be taken in how it is used.</div>
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Those words are from the second verse, less-often heard, of the <i>Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers</i> theme song. And they sum up the nature of empathy as a weapon. It's not meant to attack others, but rather to be a tool of self-defense, to help someone who has the power of empathy to see the other side of an argument, to understand the perspective, to recognize our shared humanity and to act accordingly, to never forget there's a human face behind online identities and to never forget there are real feelings being hurt when insults are thrown around in a digital space.</div>
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What this empathy does in its capacity as a weapon is guide my hand to make the most effective use of my strength to strike not at my opponents themselves but at the weaknesses in poor arguments and bad ideas, avoiding hurtful nastiness or vicious degradation of others.</div>
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How much energy do people waste slinging rage back and forth against each other in the real world? Just imagine how effective we could be toward furthering our ideals in the world if our empathy kept our efforts guided not against those with whom we disagree but the bad logic that divides and repels us all from each other? We could be constantly moving forward.</div>
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But, of course, the real world is more complex than the fictional of the Rangers. And the real world requires more thoughtful solutions than well-applied martial arts or well-aimed laser pistols. And that's also the appeal of the Rangers to me, the way that the show is set in a world where the problems are so big and broad that the people and creatures in it are truly who and what they are, free from duplicity for the most part - barring the occasional double-agent or spy.</div>
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As an autistic person, I find the human capacity of many people to be everything except who and what they really are to be deeply troubling and deeply upsetting. It saddens me when I see people existing in a personal space that's not their own. I usually assume that they're simply too afraid to be who they are, simply too intimidated to let themselves be a real person or have real thoughts or real ideas out in the public sector. </div>
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That's a big part of why I write this blog - to force myself to put my own thoughts and ideas out there and to rally exist as I write each word as the person I truly am. It's vital to me to be the kind of heroic presence in this world that stands for exactly what I stand for and make no duplicitous attempts at representing myself as anything other than who I really think I am. That others don't see me that way, - that others refuse to even acknowledge that my struggles are real - well, that's their own intellectual toxicity at work, in my opinion.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjArNqm_DG4wiL3jazYErZyomt_cYGfRpNGp4xdURbWCeRaZ-vb_3AtybruDY2fhVEye3AGJW6xMYn-Vebb-qNycoYCkBE9xLAIJF8qzua6zqUNFQ0gMqqAMY8l6P3tHHoMYSRfm1EDliQG/s1600/Divatox01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjArNqm_DG4wiL3jazYErZyomt_cYGfRpNGp4xdURbWCeRaZ-vb_3AtybruDY2fhVEye3AGJW6xMYn-Vebb-qNycoYCkBE9xLAIJF8qzua6zqUNFQ0gMqqAMY8l6P3tHHoMYSRfm1EDliQG/s1600/Divatox01.jpg" height="320" width="179" /></a></div>
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I don't think of myself in terms created by others. I think of myself in terms created by me. And they can't shout me down - because I'm not engaging in a shouting match with them. I'm living my own life, being my own person, engaging in my own variety of what I consider to be a proper life. </div>
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And I'm OK with knowing you may disagree. In fact, there's a part of me that hopes that the people who read this blog <i>are</i> sometimes the people who disagree with me. I wish they would engage me and try to learn from me, and I from them. I wish we could bridge the gap between our viewpoints and find common ground, could accommodate each other's views of the world.</div>
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But I didn't always feel this way. In fact, before I created this blog I was experiencing a tremendous reluctance to put myself out there. You see, I had just revealed myself to my online friends as a transgendered person. I felt it was unfair for me to be deceptive by omission, and I treasure honesty in others - so I felt I must demand it in myself first and foremost. I felt any other path would be hypocritical, even as I worried I would have to face innumerable enemies and fight an impossible battle once I revealed who and what I am to the world.</div>
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And this is where, even years ago, the seeds of this blog - and even this particular article - started to bloom ... because I started to think of my favorite heroes, and began to consider how they would deal with a situation was difficult and challenging and put them in personal risk.</div>
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And that's when I thought about one particular Power Ranger.</div>
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I thought of Kimberly Ann Hart.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEer2mYBdaiDjDwsUgO9txaEYhjr8ULdviDuspSD2OC-E8DydFziJ1iwvy-CaQGMsWwuNYtNahB23cDHld7qW9wfI5WigWCpIyylHE2lAPtvJjkriFB257b0t9HKaE95aJExdAlfN9JPWK/s1600/images+%25283%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEer2mYBdaiDjDwsUgO9txaEYhjr8ULdviDuspSD2OC-E8DydFziJ1iwvy-CaQGMsWwuNYtNahB23cDHld7qW9wfI5WigWCpIyylHE2lAPtvJjkriFB257b0t9HKaE95aJExdAlfN9JPWK/s1600/images+%25283%2529.jpeg" /></a></div>
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Kimberly was the first Pink Ranger in the original <i>Mighty Morphin Power Rangers</i> series. And she was - and is - my favorite Power Ranger who has ever donned one of the Power Rangers uniforms and taken a ride on a Zord. </div>
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She was my favorite for a variety of reasons.</div>
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I loved that she was a gymnast in her civilian identity. As anyone who reads this blog knows, I love gymnasts and wanted to be a professional gymnast at one point in my childhood - but that's another article. Put simply, I adored - and, yes, envied - the grace in the way she moved. As a relatively clumsy kid, I strove to change that part of myself. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Ms37xTWBkHqVuSKxEc3cZRXmQ9dSNdPcQogPQ4QypD9UeZAik-thZu56UO0yg6NiUjQHh5MasHCWNVNFriiQ_LO3VDm56a3-vqfOPzrB_DLOeNvdo4beYWbz_oA9SwRRjKoEZwj06mIH/s1600/tumblr_minkshQjyx1s6nr8co1_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Ms37xTWBkHqVuSKxEc3cZRXmQ9dSNdPcQogPQ4QypD9UeZAik-thZu56UO0yg6NiUjQHh5MasHCWNVNFriiQ_LO3VDm56a3-vqfOPzrB_DLOeNvdo4beYWbz_oA9SwRRjKoEZwj06mIH/s1600/tumblr_minkshQjyx1s6nr8co1_500.gif" height="295" width="320" /></a></div>
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I loved the fact that she piloted a Zord that could fly. Flying scared me - and still does, to this day. So, of course, it makes sense that I'd have a hero with a habit of flying everywhere, wouldn't it? That's how I roll.</div>
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Her Zord was also gorgeous.</div>
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I mean, look at this thing.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD4WJFWPL_XF1Nn5Te8TLssdWuYXyMoPVRdTNtgNdBJ4DiDlv-tyuCs14gr1IX1HzVvFeOuX-nic6g7-3y4Yd5gTd4Ox6NaUYdnFuieB1cB3mpi7ipkZdjbZpBLqJzRm8IGAc41zV2BoU9/s1600/441d6933-2202-4031-acc9-c68ce69bcd0e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD4WJFWPL_XF1Nn5Te8TLssdWuYXyMoPVRdTNtgNdBJ4DiDlv-tyuCs14gr1IX1HzVvFeOuX-nic6g7-3y4Yd5gTd4Ox6NaUYdnFuieB1cB3mpi7ipkZdjbZpBLqJzRm8IGAc41zV2BoU9/s1600/441d6933-2202-4031-acc9-c68ce69bcd0e.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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What's that? It's just a toy model, you say?</div>
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Yeah, I know.</div>
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And I don't care. Piloting a giant robot crane is still awesome.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggyVeuKTrA1n5qjnzz9ZNE48clZjj8DAn2HwkwjbXga4cKGzQoDe9JI3YR9ewPZijWquV2xziDAKYF69TYNcjbNK9R5C060bnRvXi4nXdQBPjzHsX1BnNNJuw2Dcj8bZSv0s7pA_jn4NMZ/s1600/MMPR_Crane_cockpit_pink.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggyVeuKTrA1n5qjnzz9ZNE48clZjj8DAn2HwkwjbXga4cKGzQoDe9JI3YR9ewPZijWquV2xziDAKYF69TYNcjbNK9R5C060bnRvXi4nXdQBPjzHsX1BnNNJuw2Dcj8bZSv0s7pA_jn4NMZ/s1600/MMPR_Crane_cockpit_pink.png" height="245" width="320" /></a></div>
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Likewise, Kimberly had one of my favorite Power Ranger weapons: a laser bow.</div>
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I loved the look and design of it ...</div>
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... and I fully admit that I still get goosebumps upon seeing all the glowing pink energy effects, cheap as they are. </div>
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But none of these things in and of themselves are what make Kimberly truly awesome.</div>
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Rather, it's the role she fills in the team.</div>
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Kimberly is, in my opinion, the personification of the spirit of teamwork within the core original Power Rangers group.</div>
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And this brings me back to the idea of teamwork that began this piece.</div>
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You see, Kimberly wasn't originally all that keen on becoming a Power Ranger. At first, she outright rejects Zordon's request that she become one. She doesn't seem to think she's up to the responsibility and the burden of the task of saving the entire world. She thinks less of herself than that. </div>
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And she's wrong in doing so. She's wrong in doubting herself.</div>
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But her self-doubt is understandable - and in some ways, it's even justified. What one individual would ever think they could stand up to an alien armada? The short answer is - she couldn't.</div>
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But she wasn't thinking about a core element of the situation - that she wasn't alone.</div>
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And that's how I found that I had to think of my own decision to take on a particular burden in my own life.</div>
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Kimberly probably couldn't have stopped the alien invasion on her own. Even Zordon remarks that this is the case in the first few episodes of the show, commenting that it is only with the combined powers of the entire group of Rangers that success is possible.</div>
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But together, the Rangers can unite their abilities. They can combine their prehistoric vehicles into an incredible giant robot that can defend Earth in a capacity far greater than they might have individually.</div>
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And this tradition of teamwork - of uniting together to create a force far greater than any one individual could achieve toward a noble cause.</div>
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It's a defensive cause, one that has nothing to do with despotism and everything to do with protecting the innocent.</div>
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This element of the show has been a hallmark of the series in every single inception, over the course of every version of the series from the original to the present day. </div>
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But fantastic robots and prehistoric animal vehicles are less important than the aforementioned teamwork, to me - and the plethora of shows that tried to copy the formula of the Power Rangers and failed to do so always missed the mark that it was the chemistry of the performers and their sincere handling of the material that made the absurd premise work. </div>
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And chief, to my way of thinking, in making this work was <a href="http://amyjojohnson.com/" target="_blank">Amy Jo Johnson</a>. I've included a link there to her webpage. Buy her CD. She's a very talented actor AND singer. Tell her so on her <a href="https://twitter.com/_amyjojohnson" target="_blank">Twitter </a>page, while you're at it. </div>
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You see, if you go back to the original series, it was Kimberly - mostly through Ashley's performance - that kept the team together during its darkest moments. Now, I'm not talking about any kind of stereotypical maternal element, though that trope does rear its head in the show. I'm talking about something more than that: a manifestation of the spirit of teamwork, of bringing disparate elements together with positivity and hope ... and the crane-like grace necessary to navigate not just physical battlefields, but emotional ones as well.</div>
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You see, one of Ria's chief weapons throughout the series was manipulation - setting the energies of the Rangers against one another through deceit and treachery. Remember when I talked about the tactics of despots a moment ago? These are two of the chief weapons of despots, utilized through the power of misinformation and the fomentation of dissent amongst allies.</div>
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And, of course, Kimberly wasn't immune to these problems ... and there are episode-specific spoilers to follow.</div>
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There was the episode where she was transformed into a punk rocker, for one. </div>
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But, for the most part, Kimberly was the emotional center of the team, and because of that was the most appealing to me - because her power wasn't just dependent on her martial arts skill or her capacity to do damage. </div>
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Rather, hers was a strength neither Rita nor any of the other innumerable villains in the series had a hope of defeating - Kimberly's intelligence, emotional strength and capacity to work with others. </div>
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You see, for an autistic person like myself, teamwork can be a real challenge. So, of course, I aspire to be more like Kimberly - someone who always tries to find the best in everyone, even those who have been at one time or another at their worst.</div>
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You see, this picture directly above? That's Rita - after she becomes the Mystic Mother and dedicates herself to helping others throughout the universe. Sure - it took years and years for this to happen, but it happened ... and it wouldn't have happened without all various teams of Rangers working together to put Rita into a position where she could be changed.</div>
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Now, of course, the Rangers' plots are - as I've said - writ-large, silly and overdone and ridiculous. But I don't care about that. I get something more out of it, in all its myriad incarnations ... because I see the ultimate message of the series as one of universal teamwork - that we have to remember that there may come a day when our worst enemy is someone upon whom we will have to depend.</div>
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And that spirit is best represented by Kimberly, in my opinion - from the symbolism of her crane rising from the fire of volcanic lava to the quiet moments when she reaffirms the value of her friends to herself and to each other.</div>
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Kimberly's dedication to the other characters seems real and genuine, even in fantastic situations. It's a real world virtue represented in overwrought circumstances, but it's one that bears remembering - in my opinion, at least. It's a virtue that's easy to forget in our zeal to be right, to win, to always come out on top.</div>
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Power Rangers teaches kids that they don't have to always win - but rather have to try their hardest. </div>
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Kimberly reminds us that the bonds of friendship are stronger than any mechanical dinosaurs.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7rIcFxc2EiT1qwLhaR6YUEDg5nqOhxgprwOeZOB9tnGbxa4DmaCqznrHVLaiDOiD_Ao44plBtLpTPnMYhVtXScXBLQQ8LU9zyV0KcboYC5DB821-cWEAN1J8loMFMOomwj5ntuL7TxMmu/s1600/kimberly_hart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7rIcFxc2EiT1qwLhaR6YUEDg5nqOhxgprwOeZOB9tnGbxa4DmaCqznrHVLaiDOiD_Ao44plBtLpTPnMYhVtXScXBLQQ8LU9zyV0KcboYC5DB821-cWEAN1J8loMFMOomwj5ntuL7TxMmu/s1600/kimberly_hart.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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And so I decided to be like Kimberly - to take a burden I was reluctant to wear, because I recognized the need and recognized that there are other people aside from myself out there who need help ... and that I have the skill and strength and power to help them.</div>
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I can't do it alone, but here's the amazing thing: in coming out as trans, I found out that I wasn't alone after all. Just like Kimberly, I discovered that there were people out there who had my back, and who would stand up for the same virtues in which I believed and continue to believe against those who try to oppress me or anyone else.</div>
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Really, I discovered that I was not only not alone - but that there was a world of people out there like me who welcomed me both to the family and to the fight that is part of the burden of being trans, part of a sisterhood of transgendered women who all stand for what'a right against the monolithic thinking of a select few who want to tear us down ... or, in some cases, apart. But, as I said, we have each other's backs, so that's not going to happen.</div>
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Just like the Power Rangers face foe after foe, we too must stand in defense of the general public against forces that want to decide for everyone else what's best to do and to think. We don't believe in deciding for others how they feel. We do strive to assure that everyone has the freedom to live and the freedom of self-determination and the freedom not to be pigeonholed into absolutist thinking that demands obedience above individual expression, conformity over originality, mundanity over unique expression. </div>
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Just like Kimberly, I try to find the good in everyone - even the people who speak out in harsh criticism of me. I don't hate them. I only feel sad for them, just as I feel sad for anyone who would rather behave in a monstrous fashion than accommodate human variety. </div>
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It's a fight that takes many shapes, but there are many of us, too - all different, all unique despite sharing some common traits.</div>
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And that common trait is that aforementioned empathy. We recognize each other's suffering and we understand that we share human experiences, even if we don't share exact histories. </div>
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<br />The exact details aren't important, though.</div>
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We know that we must reach out to defend not just the people on our team, too, but everyone who's experiencing suffering in this world, whether we know what it's like to walk in their shoes or not.</div>
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You see, I don't need someone else to have lived my life for me to want to protect and defend them. That's not the point of being a soldier for change in society. Anything less starts to become kind of a self-congratulatory club rather than a team of people working together to change the world. If you're only protecting people who are like you - if you're only defending people who are the same as you ... you'll not only miss out on making the world a better place than you could be, but you could also miss out on so much more ... like making new friends or discovering new experiences you hadn't even thought about in the limitations we all face in living our one small life in so vast a world.</div>
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Can you imagine someone willfully working to avoid ever experiencing anything new? Because, to me, that would be a tragedy. Me - I see the dents and abrasions of what I experience in life not as scars from wounds but as characteristics of a beautiful kind of imperfection that make me unique, not quite so obvious, not quite so cookie-cutter, not quite so assembly-line as a human being. Who wouldn't want that? Who wouldn't want to wear little flaws with pride, knowing that those flaws show I've been a warrior all along? So I wear my flawed symbols, and I wear them with confidence. </div>
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I like it when people stand out, even when they're using familiar symbols.</div>
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And, yes, it's true - standing out makes a person a target ... and that's another reason we must all have so much empathy, why we must train ourselves to see as best we can from the viewpoint of others' lives and understand that their experiences and ours may be different - but that for the most part we want the same things as humans. We want safety for the people about whom we care. We want protection from those who try to harm us. We want enough resources to live. </div>
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And, if we're fortunate enough to have been truly moved by the lives of others, we want to share our good times with people we truly love ... </div>
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... whatever their stripes, or colors, or histories, or lines, or marks, or groupings, or identity.</div>
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And yes, our enemies change shape, too - reappear and disappear, grow and shrink - day-in, day-out - and the cycle of their violence is, indeed, a continuing drama like the season-long wars the Power Rangers face. We meet old foes again, think we've lost people who return to us, face heartache and tribulation and betrayal and discovery and hope. </div>
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But whatever the given day brings, we keep fighting - as we must - because we've come out as trans. We've taken on the burden of being public about who we are so that others don't have to fight those battles quite so hard. </div>
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And we fight because we must do so to survive. We take aim not at people who perpetuate injustice against us but at the injustices themselves. We direct our energies with empathy so that we focus on where our power can do the most good, where it can be the most precise, where the maximum power of our efforts can best help stop oppression and outright evil. </div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">We must take aim at that which is evil and have empathy for the perpetrator, all at the same time. To do this, we have no choice but to give of ourselves when others try to take from us. We must give and in so giving we must show that our hearts can bear the weight of their constant abuse without resorting to the tactics they use against us. We must use our intellectual and emotional weapons only for defense.</span></div>
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We must be courageous when we are threatened, and we will be threatened. We must gird ourselves with our emotional and intellectual armor. We must stand together - and we must reach out and defend others who might not be part of our fight. We must protect everyone - not just the people we most like. A woman who is an enemy to other women is still a woman, and must not have her own agency taken from her. We might not like what she has to say, but we have to fight for her right to say it.</div>
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We must remain ever-vigilant, and move through the world with measured strength and care.</div>
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We must be welcoming of others.</div>
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We must listen ...</div>
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... even when our instincts tell us we shouldn't.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaH5_-JjXDazwDw-tpWIOd2jJwL-RmWnmwUFzEGeyWO0K1i1PFqKtOKCD61cqsN1naIZ-u73zMQkLEPzbo1J1evaUtQXjbnemrNOWpO8T1DXOprcgeOGuitKnqtmVHoisx_QJnlQGB_o-y/s1600/tumblr_mq93jyjFkO1s1popdo1_400.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaH5_-JjXDazwDw-tpWIOd2jJwL-RmWnmwUFzEGeyWO0K1i1PFqKtOKCD61cqsN1naIZ-u73zMQkLEPzbo1J1evaUtQXjbnemrNOWpO8T1DXOprcgeOGuitKnqtmVHoisx_QJnlQGB_o-y/s1600/tumblr_mq93jyjFkO1s1popdo1_400.gif" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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We must be fair.</div>
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We must view the world in a way that is just.</div>
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We must stand firm for our values and beliefs.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkmwsG12gY26S-J5tOnZpKpfE6Y5sbveewKsrG_a76mZkVPvv5bdncyLNAytRJJjJAy9D6_zO_fQYWNGRuaSgFJOqU9d1_qtGtZC0JVbG_JsAabN5dZiN0ttghlkwUyjPa5OI1I84BUw8N/s1600/Pink_Ranger_by_CosmoXJ9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkmwsG12gY26S-J5tOnZpKpfE6Y5sbveewKsrG_a76mZkVPvv5bdncyLNAytRJJjJAy9D6_zO_fQYWNGRuaSgFJOqU9d1_qtGtZC0JVbG_JsAabN5dZiN0ttghlkwUyjPa5OI1I84BUw8N/s1600/Pink_Ranger_by_CosmoXJ9.jpg" height="320" width="247" /></a></div>
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We will be decried, yes, and we must be prepared for this.</div>
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We will be doubted.</div>
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We will be wounded.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQn0d1nio_UV9bCcXWtq09gpKQlfTe0UA9eUphyphenhyphenEzGWF5YbULtFxvp749XkRIeSNswh9UwFzv95e0JtIaFiUwtK-7b0Ea1_iVoVKVzfyODEDzDWHoFjGoDKt5lvUr0ehrh1GZcigXcKHkY/s1600/pinkasswhoop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQn0d1nio_UV9bCcXWtq09gpKQlfTe0UA9eUphyphenhyphenEzGWF5YbULtFxvp749XkRIeSNswh9UwFzv95e0JtIaFiUwtK-7b0Ea1_iVoVKVzfyODEDzDWHoFjGoDKt5lvUr0ehrh1GZcigXcKHkY/s1600/pinkasswhoop.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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And when we're wounded, we have to reach out to the human empathy of our tormentors even as we vehemently oppose their actions. We need to remind them that we're human without aggressing against them, because they are human too. We must try to reach out so that we can specifically reach into their hearts, to their humanity.</div>
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It will never be easy.</div>
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But we must always remember, no matter how much we hurt, to balance our warrior spirit with our compassion and humanity.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2PER2h3cF5BHjjxiHeMPjrsBfjQWnva2mI62JSTSTEBWkTH98h0vu7mJtc_FY4sZ0RYCZ8kK20VwmAKAc8mvNCBEnXRS6OKFCOnqOJjokWdkyVdh8prprMJhsu3-x2RENbprBMyowWYps/s1600/pinkranger.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2PER2h3cF5BHjjxiHeMPjrsBfjQWnva2mI62JSTSTEBWkTH98h0vu7mJtc_FY4sZ0RYCZ8kK20VwmAKAc8mvNCBEnXRS6OKFCOnqOJjokWdkyVdh8prprMJhsu3-x2RENbprBMyowWYps/s1600/pinkranger.jpg" /></a></div>
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But most of all, we need to keep our imaginations fresh and alive.</div>
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Without imagination, the sorrows of life can seem insurmountable because we can't imagine any other way.</div>
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Without imagination, we can't imagine a world with hope for the future. And without hope, we can never take flight as we were born to fly.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLxrLw1N9glsnBXLhsbxnN-qAbsfSncdYgkq8Tcq8IC4ZW80U5jQhAt6I5k2llYQkV5WSFBkoYJQbQiNdPoxt5XlvFii237TZBIozcSq6rVm7i8whucPJabVe2B3MuzO0CP2r8WyGHP469/s1600/Pink-Ranger-by-nebezial.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLxrLw1N9glsnBXLhsbxnN-qAbsfSncdYgkq8Tcq8IC4ZW80U5jQhAt6I5k2llYQkV5WSFBkoYJQbQiNdPoxt5XlvFii237TZBIozcSq6rVm7i8whucPJabVe2B3MuzO0CP2r8WyGHP469/s1600/Pink-Ranger-by-nebezial.jpg" /></a></div>
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Dee Emm Elmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14053652749413575579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1555007489284044452.post-69380955797954947142014-01-14T08:57:00.001-08:002014-01-14T19:16:13.108-08:00"They need me now more than ever." (Sarah, aka Marrow)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijeNWeVmWmSPtIz8udjPTvZjVR7jGWzG3NcLYa7UKnkzF_iEztg9GpzCfP3_Dr_NiUZhviYOnBhN9bKX3NE7sU0MGGC5rV61ytQUoLTgx9mxOn6vNuTNc0j8YPqV99JG5BmATXXt2hSUl8/s1600/illustriousbits_week_9___marrow_by_bernce-d4nj5i7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijeNWeVmWmSPtIz8udjPTvZjVR7jGWzG3NcLYa7UKnkzF_iEztg9GpzCfP3_Dr_NiUZhviYOnBhN9bKX3NE7sU0MGGC5rV61ytQUoLTgx9mxOn6vNuTNc0j8YPqV99JG5BmATXXt2hSUl8/s1600/illustriousbits_week_9___marrow_by_bernce-d4nj5i7.jpg" /></a></div>
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Growth.</div>
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That's what's been on my mind the last few weeks, because I'm experiencing all kinds of growth in my life. There's been growth in my awareness, like the discovery that I have the disease diabetes. That wasn't the most welcome discovery - especially since it required a trip to the hospital by ambulance. My blood sugar rate was a staggering figure so high that the machine that tested me didn't have a register to go up to my level. </div>
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Fortunately, I've had an EKG and other tests and there was no permanent damage from any of this. But the blood sugar surprised everyone - the machine maxed out at 740, I guess - and I was above that. Even when it comes to diseases, I take it to a higher level.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxe1sqz_IDfzBppCcQBFc2Mujz7ohsecHWXjvHCvgG6l9_QZF_F1iJBb-rEYbqpdMk_h4jOzCek-yZZugIR0tH35CZTD39ro6MHwGowKNNkqX3j6Y6FFNYwgZ2APRo0Snb2Wt775p_m706/s1600/evensuperheroes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxe1sqz_IDfzBppCcQBFc2Mujz7ohsecHWXjvHCvgG6l9_QZF_F1iJBb-rEYbqpdMk_h4jOzCek-yZZugIR0tH35CZTD39ro6MHwGowKNNkqX3j6Y6FFNYwgZ2APRo0Snb2Wt775p_m706/s1600/evensuperheroes.jpg" /></a></div>
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Of course, there's a lot of stigma about having diabetes, and I had to grow very quickly in terms of educating myself about what the diagnosis really meant for my future life. Since I know you all worry about my welfare, I'll add that my blood sugar is now down to a regular rate of about 89-130 on a daily basis thanks to a daily regimen of a pill called <span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 37px; text-align: left;">Metformin </span>and a nightly injection of 20 mililiters of insulin.<br />
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But I also grew in other ways. I learned that I really can inject myself with a needle - something I would've told you was impossible for me before I learned that I simply had to do it. I learned I can prick my finger and check my own glucose levels - something I had always imagined as an excruciating process that has turned out to be no major chore at all. I learned that I can very easily restrict my diet to a maximum of 90 carbs per meal - and that it hasn't really hurt my enjoyment of food to do so. I learned I can laugh about my situation, like joking with women I know that I'm glad I'm a transwoman since that means I get to have the male allowance of carbohydrates (the aforementioned 90). <br />
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And I've discovered many people on my timeline on Twitter have stepped up to support me, giving me advice or suggestions - or just moral support in a time when I've really needed it. These people, like the amazing <a href="https://twitter.com/heldc" target="_blank">Hel M</a>, have helped me in so many ways that they may not even realize, and it has helped me feel less isolated in terms of dealing with this change in my situation. Their help has also allowed me to realize I'm not tackling this alone, and that the supposed distance of online "friends" - complete with the suspicious analysis by quotation marks - can prove be friends, too, in that they meet the critical criteria of reaching out to really help during challenging times. Because of them, I feel less alone, and as I cause myself pain every morning to check my glucose levels, I'm thankful again and again that I know them. It makes my new ritual of medically-required self-inflicted "harm" go that much easier.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6grj73cb2FblGKqSCRlIRoQZvykMR_2JD7juiUC4SLILSiHZZF7dWQvHkwDIDR2pKG08ckM66TTKrW1aFSTYuHebWnjWmeinQnMqv1SFMsnYOEZ28QzJAT5jfKFl9BWxD8wy7Q1N1gZel/s1600/marrow_11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="610" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6grj73cb2FblGKqSCRlIRoQZvykMR_2JD7juiUC4SLILSiHZZF7dWQvHkwDIDR2pKG08ckM66TTKrW1aFSTYuHebWnjWmeinQnMqv1SFMsnYOEZ28QzJAT5jfKFl9BWxD8wy7Q1N1gZel/s640/marrow_11.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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And it doesn't really hurt THAT much, either; to prick my fingers, to look at the little orb of blood on my fingertip and then watch as it slides into the test strip and a little machine like a tricorder tells me how efficient my body is being - none of it is the end of the world. It's pain, but I recognize that it's pain with a purpose - and that makes all the difference, and it's a difference that's taken me half my life to understand. <br />
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But, I get it now.<br />
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And that's also gotten me thinking about Marrow.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY0TcFz0Kg7IBBj8Ydao9_ZduIJCrR5_wKhlaaXkjaB_b7S4Fw360UhLk5w0uTpTju9qN88F4jP4cypKKX9NWvRb6x5HQwfkhG-hK8dGqUAIqmyepC1gHmTTy80oHB-GKsNkJogmKtgrPO/s1600/marrow_vs__spider_man_by_theumlaut-d318164.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY0TcFz0Kg7IBBj8Ydao9_ZduIJCrR5_wKhlaaXkjaB_b7S4Fw360UhLk5w0uTpTju9qN88F4jP4cypKKX9NWvRb6x5HQwfkhG-hK8dGqUAIqmyepC1gHmTTy80oHB-GKsNkJogmKtgrPO/s1600/marrow_vs__spider_man_by_theumlaut-d318164.jpg" /></a></div>
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Now, if any character fits the bill of not being well-known to the general public, it's got to be Marrow. So, as per the usual process, here's a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marrow_(comics)" target="_blank">link</a> to the the biography and critical information profile from Wikipedia.<br />
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That done, let me next draw attention to the date of Marrow's first appearance. <br />
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As you can see from the Wikipedia article, that would be in the year 1994. So - yes - Marrow is a <a href="http://marvel.com/" target="_blank">Marvel</a> character from the 1990s. And we all know what that means; she's <b><u>extreme</u></b> - mean - tough - indestructible - and kinda like Wolverine. <i>Except even MORE awesome, and even MORE </i><u><b>extreme</b></u>, said Marvel over and over again at the time.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSWuVCm-yrgelfo4ZsiwS5rv8Z3ah2oiW0x11c4njS5g9Q04dJegUqgGDlocVZO7Rqqxv23KPsC41CQz2CRGzoId_4Ks79LhjdXWVxkEQceHDAdrptVNcowRPR43e4KV9ZC_xY3OYcTTOX/s1600/xmen721.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSWuVCm-yrgelfo4ZsiwS5rv8Z3ah2oiW0x11c4njS5g9Q04dJegUqgGDlocVZO7Rqqxv23KPsC41CQz2CRGzoId_4Ks79LhjdXWVxkEQceHDAdrptVNcowRPR43e4KV9ZC_xY3OYcTTOX/s1600/xmen721.jpg" /></a></div>
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Now, I want it writ large here, even I can't write it any larger because I use the maximum font size for this blogging tool: mainstream comics from the Big Two in the 1990s are probably at the top of my list of Least Favorite Things About Comics of All Time. People who know me - and who also understand comics - tend to also know this about my tastes, as well. <br />
<br />
So, I expect that the fact that Marrow happens to be among my favorite Marvel mutants possibly comes as a surprise to them. <br />
<br />
No matter - it's true, and she is, for so many reasons ... none of which have to do with her being <b><i><u>extreme</u></i></b>.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwpP2mzye8MCTwIi-QAdJ5HwYags9jPLArcdseuvYPK87XpF8SdTbDRfoVQMycoHzt2BWeqxxLdHRT1e0cGkInGiXFLOoXK1b-6Y6N_u_hhk7us0HdD6TgUKgA4R7RhhJ6OkKdwOsg4FPo/s1600/4254_4_0068.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwpP2mzye8MCTwIi-QAdJ5HwYags9jPLArcdseuvYPK87XpF8SdTbDRfoVQMycoHzt2BWeqxxLdHRT1e0cGkInGiXFLOoXK1b-6Y6N_u_hhk7us0HdD6TgUKgA4R7RhhJ6OkKdwOsg4FPo/s640/4254_4_0068.jpg" width="414" /></a></div>
<br />
To me, the mainstream superhero comics of the 1990s that gave birth to Marrow represent everything that's wrong with what superhero comics have become - and how they've in many ways stayed since that time. <br />
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To me, these comics are all about the frosting. <br />
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And no, this isn't just a metaphor I've recently invented due to my diabetic diagnosis. Not everything is about sweets to me.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvtl-s1_OCrH_lbsNxlH1xzQDp1q51pCO6xtajvnpGz0ekuYsIaLlO-VdriRoJ0oLzska7PvnVvWLkzDJvLG7Yk-GtwQi97kA4jTjxzTfRVaS3AfHfkst-VsJDLn4qp60eQpHy53UymXQF/s1600/rainbo-rose-cupcake1-450x487.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvtl-s1_OCrH_lbsNxlH1xzQDp1q51pCO6xtajvnpGz0ekuYsIaLlO-VdriRoJ0oLzska7PvnVvWLkzDJvLG7Yk-GtwQi97kA4jTjxzTfRVaS3AfHfkst-VsJDLn4qp60eQpHy53UymXQF/s1600/rainbo-rose-cupcake1-450x487.jpg" /></a></div>
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This is to say that, to me, superhero comic books are in many ways like cupcakes. They're tasty and sweet and give you a sugar rush. Sometimes, a really talented baker can whip up a cupcake that's a little healthier than others, but for the most part they are a decadent dessert item - not a daily nutritional requirement. They're usually full of empty calories, but that doesn't mean you can't enjoy them, or that they're totally without benefit or merit.<br />
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But they're usually coated in frosting, which is even less an item of food than the contents of the cake, being basically pure sugar. And yeah, sugar is tasty.<br />
<br />
But it can't be the entire treat.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFifuAACqrpZTD692hVHzrdKdE6QepZq9yGTf8ALYzszeeFy9d7vY3k_lQtg-mSstmGF2lhCCnuFrkH0Sh0wA0HgpOOrs-OA_KeY9U4AGOLNrvA8nafZNtpDR2teUp_7SAhHvRdIJoFm4C/s1600/diabetes-control-chart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFifuAACqrpZTD692hVHzrdKdE6QepZq9yGTf8ALYzszeeFy9d7vY3k_lQtg-mSstmGF2lhCCnuFrkH0Sh0wA0HgpOOrs-OA_KeY9U4AGOLNrvA8nafZNtpDR2teUp_7SAhHvRdIJoFm4C/s640/diabetes-control-chart.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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To me, the cake of a mainstream comic is essential - and the cake is the truth of telling a story about real human beings through the metaphors and symbols of mainstream superheroes. To me, the cake is the part of the treat that carries the weight of a story - developing the personalities of the characters, reminding us how the story resonates with real life, dealing with real issues through those symbols and metaphors. Everything that warms the tummy is the cake. Everything that makes a reader truly feel something on an emotional level instead of merely a visceral sensation is the cake.<br />
<br />
Gail Simone writes this kind of cake, and Neil Gaiman, and those select few who understand what mainstream superheroes can tell us about ourselves and about the world in which we live.<br />
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Continuity? Plot? Adamantium? Everything <u><i><b>extreme</b></i></u>? That's the frosting.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO-625vWfJitBKjW7oslrDjIr-hJRAnxyAORCtOyhcU5X4KIZqLDjUkBW_0KJHIaehMr1UnNYoIJBjHQd5FwGPgKgx8hrQbTP6Bf8qwDn6R-cfNxvLJyE6-Uw3gkp79j37-lEHXDJtxpni/s1600/1798915-prophet__1993_1st_series__6_super.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO-625vWfJitBKjW7oslrDjIr-hJRAnxyAORCtOyhcU5X4KIZqLDjUkBW_0KJHIaehMr1UnNYoIJBjHQd5FwGPgKgx8hrQbTP6Bf8qwDn6R-cfNxvLJyE6-Uw3gkp79j37-lEHXDJtxpni/s1600/1798915-prophet__1993_1st_series__6_super.jpeg" /></a></div>
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And even without knowing I had diabetes, I didn't want to ingest that much sugar every time I took a trip to my local comic shop.<br />
<br />
So I shied away from most of the mainstream comics of the 1990s.<br />
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Doing so meant broadening my horizons and discovering the more literate modern classics that came from the period.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMhvawpcA2n-GzOCTx5yLsXl8-S6aowXfYAx6KKW18S1Wa28d__mAeIOCpivsDtEUoGF0LDqLkcdl3tOfn6JX1b-Fryvm1gjtFzPo4EWOOz5h2IpA6dcPHq3Rk1-V6WuB7q7UmhGXu4lZB/s1600/Sandman_no.1_(Modern_Age).comiccover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMhvawpcA2n-GzOCTx5yLsXl8-S6aowXfYAx6KKW18S1Wa28d__mAeIOCpivsDtEUoGF0LDqLkcdl3tOfn6JX1b-Fryvm1gjtFzPo4EWOOz5h2IpA6dcPHq3Rk1-V6WuB7q7UmhGXu4lZB/s640/Sandman_no.1_(Modern_Age).comiccover.jpg" width="418" /></a></div>
<br />
But there were still characters I loved.<br />
<br />
I loved them cake and frosting and all.<br />
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I loved them even if they had been modified so much to match their 1990s counterparts that they were changed nearly beyond recognition. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAR2fm3U3HVJFaK45IxyC2KlEvUEM8QhplL2z-sPHFBRDPexBxxmI9cJmWGjqJ3-lKer3JbGo9EXNGrVGlB-W3dAsO7Vf3JwFI_sjgr_ryVoCLp7745cVWcO5yXbktjhwOLeNYPQAShn6B/s1600/shadowcat-aoa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="454" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAR2fm3U3HVJFaK45IxyC2KlEvUEM8QhplL2z-sPHFBRDPexBxxmI9cJmWGjqJ3-lKer3JbGo9EXNGrVGlB-W3dAsO7Vf3JwFI_sjgr_ryVoCLp7745cVWcO5yXbktjhwOLeNYPQAShn6B/s640/shadowcat-aoa.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The woman with the claws is Kitty Pryde, by the way. But that's another article.<br />
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Not even the glut of frosting in the 1990s could dissuade me from my beloved crimefighters completely, though, so I ate as much frosting as I could stomach - which wasn't much - and endured the excesses in mainstream 1990s superhero comics because I truly <i>love</i> superheroes. And love makes us do crazy things, you know?<br />
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And not all superhero comics of the period were terrible, and not all new characters introduced were worthless. Some have grown to become my favorites in the genre.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBLMA81TQdc6y54GIJokobKtiLp25T8tL5jAh6PBTOkHwbm3uYpZDKGcFj7rsELb4nAjoHRim3Aqat3ockdQK_KrEV81UiRIub5PaHsQW-PHW3M8tKMLoxuhzF_dhQLldNJHwfnsJaWHj7/s1600/static1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBLMA81TQdc6y54GIJokobKtiLp25T8tL5jAh6PBTOkHwbm3uYpZDKGcFj7rsELb4nAjoHRim3Aqat3ockdQK_KrEV81UiRIub5PaHsQW-PHW3M8tKMLoxuhzF_dhQLldNJHwfnsJaWHj7/s1600/static1.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
But my mutants.<br />
<br />
My poor, poor mutants.<br />
<br />
How they suffered.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWc41mZU0IY2-e3f2O-fCNkpnR5G3fbDsVBqBOPUDyfahyphenhyphenOnY9iEJIr463R1rV9aYUItSnq4wNt2B44sHrg3Vpu03s8aPLlxj3dNEpP-03iT2SHFxSSafZP-ZfmspOpmHj6JqFQJKkwfCI/s1600/X_Men_Age_of_Apocalypse_by_coloring.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWc41mZU0IY2-e3f2O-fCNkpnR5G3fbDsVBqBOPUDyfahyphenhyphenOnY9iEJIr463R1rV9aYUItSnq4wNt2B44sHrg3Vpu03s8aPLlxj3dNEpP-03iT2SHFxSSafZP-ZfmspOpmHj6JqFQJKkwfCI/s1600/X_Men_Age_of_Apocalypse_by_coloring.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
But even in the midst of this "creative" desolation, all was not lost.<br />
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And that's where Marrow comes into the picture.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdKxGlvJ90GaHgnCgMkssO4if9HL6qmRoQZ4J0x2oO9mVVGy8rd_gvzRxMQnKwvfATIYY5TA7hJ8O3R3gWoXSAslleA1XNqlDDUVsofRPwLelvHrlD12MR6Sspcg0UTBZ9mRiQRdjBBTRJ/s1600/marrow+9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="350" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdKxGlvJ90GaHgnCgMkssO4if9HL6qmRoQZ4J0x2oO9mVVGy8rd_gvzRxMQnKwvfATIYY5TA7hJ8O3R3gWoXSAslleA1XNqlDDUVsofRPwLelvHrlD12MR6Sspcg0UTBZ9mRiQRdjBBTRJ/s640/marrow+9.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Oh, to be sure - Marrow fits the bill of these <i><u><b>extreme</b></u></i> 1990s characters I've bemoaned in this piece. She was typically full of rage, aggression and malice. She had a healing factor. She had knives and striking weapons growing out of her body. She was a villain who later joined the X-Men and found herself. The tiers of frosting are all there.
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And yet - there was something more to her than that, at least to me.<br />
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Whether it was by accident or intent, the people who crafted Marrow imbued her with a particular quality that was absent from most of her sisters and brothers of the era. She wasn't unique in terms of raw construction, to be sure, so that wasn't it. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA5eeTkGZ37yg1VcxG8rLIiFH-7azQPEwKNewoaCLO7K4QQYaVwYA-x_7fSqxvpzgx41YGXJKPgKtCrnLKKYhROUx-V_5A_w-uGM-7jWlhyphenhyphenuzGxlnskQQZ45BjzybjIn2ABPfnWYuaqtDk/s1600/catmarrow+015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA5eeTkGZ37yg1VcxG8rLIiFH-7azQPEwKNewoaCLO7K4QQYaVwYA-x_7fSqxvpzgx41YGXJKPgKtCrnLKKYhROUx-V_5A_w-uGM-7jWlhyphenhyphenuzGxlnskQQZ45BjzybjIn2ABPfnWYuaqtDk/s1600/catmarrow+015.JPG" /></a></div>
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And yet there was more to her than her component parts. And I couldn't figure it out as a reader no matter how much I tried. <br />
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I just liked her, even though she was often a mess of contradictory character "development," prone to <i><u><b>extreme</b></u></i> violence and <u><b><i>extreme</i></b></u> emotional dissonance and disconnection. <br />
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Then again, so were almost all the other characters in superhero comics, even the ones I loved.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib0WA4gtVJOS1r9hgj3h4jbm0P8T8TvYkpHWwo9dwaqM9jURwXgvC4AwIno7hMvsQb5IrywTeIaRlSJkwD9f4d2TyrbFs1F-RgcO0ZlMQn51peqhyphenhyphen05MUORSpe0yGFmTjFk6Kon74w-9I5/s1600/MarrowVSStorm2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib0WA4gtVJOS1r9hgj3h4jbm0P8T8TvYkpHWwo9dwaqM9jURwXgvC4AwIno7hMvsQb5IrywTeIaRlSJkwD9f4d2TyrbFs1F-RgcO0ZlMQn51peqhyphenhyphen05MUORSpe0yGFmTjFk6Kon74w-9I5/s1600/MarrowVSStorm2.jpg" /></a></div>
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And yet, when Storm "killed" Marrow, I was crushed. I hated it, for so many reasons. At first, I thought I simply hated it because Storm had been turned into yet another "killing machine" character like every other mutant. <br />
<br />
But I quickly realized there was more to it than that. I missed Marrow. I really missed her. <br />
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Of course, 1990s comics being a world where life and death were equally cheap, Marrow didn't stay dead for long.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRAcbDCZUmIn9c28cJPfLepCLMDCSiIyqKlAWycNf4OEyApWsnkiEglF3wah-5f5rRHmZB_SMfbfQSQ2mbco-hHyzbz8-YMFndM9u8_8ru3Cc69IQmuVwrot3fGJ5vL2Dr_Hqrr1HngVWi/s1600/marrowandstorm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRAcbDCZUmIn9c28cJPfLepCLMDCSiIyqKlAWycNf4OEyApWsnkiEglF3wah-5f5rRHmZB_SMfbfQSQ2mbco-hHyzbz8-YMFndM9u8_8ru3Cc69IQmuVwrot3fGJ5vL2Dr_Hqrr1HngVWi/s640/marrowandstorm.jpg" width="625" /></a></div>
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Disregarding the dialogue - wow! - I was nevertheless thrilled to have Marrow back, and glad that a relationship between Sarah and Ororo was being established. <br />
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Suddenly, all the awfulness of their prior history didn't matter - they were friends, and I was simply glad to put the unpleasantness of those awful stories in the past.<br />
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This was the here-and-now ... or, at least, it was, then. And no amount of <u style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">extreme</u> writing could ruin my appreciation of Marrow.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgQqnvxWS1qCGzpKD4he93bWhl76x3WX-I5m5hTcJDZUAXcDI7t_PCNUrL4X3Vpx2WcgvFO6-Z1qnHaAA3xUZZPiyjEWdVH2uMfQNqY2QKgAw0qR83pR2HsMS9QDQ6M-8MkOrgSnLZUODB/s1600/marrow9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgQqnvxWS1qCGzpKD4he93bWhl76x3WX-I5m5hTcJDZUAXcDI7t_PCNUrL4X3Vpx2WcgvFO6-Z1qnHaAA3xUZZPiyjEWdVH2uMfQNqY2QKgAw0qR83pR2HsMS9QDQ6M-8MkOrgSnLZUODB/s640/marrow9.jpg" width="445" /></a></div>
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And, yet, I still didn't understand why. <br />
<br />
And I didn't figure out why until I was standing in my living room, exhausted from the aforementioned trip to the hospital, diagnosed with diabetes, feeling roughed-up and dirty and overwhelmed, barely able to process information coming in through five battered senses.<br />
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I didn't figure it out until I pricked my finger and watched blood well up on my fingertip.<br />
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<br />
That's when it came to me, oddly. I'm not making this up. At that moment, my first home use of my <a href="http://onetouch.com/" target="_blank">OneTouch</a> device, I thought of Marrow as I waited for the meter to come back with a count.<br />
<br />
Before that moment, I had been thinking about the necessity of what I was doing. I thought about how it was going to hurt, but how I needed to do it, and that I needed to do it myself. I thought about how nobody else was going to do it for me. Nobody was going to help me inject myself with insulin by poking a needle into my stomach that evening, either. Nobody was going to count all my carbs for me. <br />
<br />
I realized that even in a world full of my friends and enemies, the ultimate responsibility to keep myself alive - and to flourish - would have to come through in my own actions. I had to do these things, myself, because there was no other option. I had to stand up for myself and take adult responsibility of my future health - my very being - my survival, really. And even though I wasn't in complete control of what was happening to me, I could either curl up in a ball and suck my thumb ... or take action, take control of doing what I needed to do if I wanted to live.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinAhN9UmwxfluHeJKGMXjRwAyd-yf1D3kNGAYvhUfu22d8SjRtlpDqAjZA66u3p4WhgpGA39w-RhoCOfDM5pG-BjBCajAcBGML5gV6KB7mkPD6xxPcQ0DrbznsCQTKeLO2ymnlrTuTAtBV/s1600/uxm373page051.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinAhN9UmwxfluHeJKGMXjRwAyd-yf1D3kNGAYvhUfu22d8SjRtlpDqAjZA66u3p4WhgpGA39w-RhoCOfDM5pG-BjBCajAcBGML5gV6KB7mkPD6xxPcQ0DrbznsCQTKeLO2ymnlrTuTAtBV/s1600/uxm373page051.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
And that's when it clicked, why I love Marrow. It had been in front of me the entire time, and I feel a little silly for not getting it sooner - for needing a diagnosis of diabetes to do the self-analysis that got me to this point.<br />
<br />
It's about my growth.<br />
<br />
And what growth can mean, both good and bad, in a person's life - and, in particular, a transwoman's.<br />
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There are surface comparisons between myself and Marrow. She's a woman whose body grew strange in adolescence, whose very physical form became unfamiliar and painful. What transwoman who wasn't started on hormone therapy before puberty has been immune to that?<br />
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Looking into the mirror and seeing growth that is not what's desired, not what's expected, not what feels natural or wanted - it's almost a rite of passage for transgirls becoming transwomen. It's the act of looking at one's developing body in the shower and feeling anguish because of all the things that are wrong instead of grateful at what's going right. <br />
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It's the deep, hurtful agony of being betrayed by a body that's doing all the wrong things, that's forcing you as a person to conform to a reality that is alien and incorrect. It's realizing that the days of putting on your best friend's dress and going into town as her best girl friend are coming to an end. It's the realization that, just as Marrow can't pass for human, a transgirl who's become a transwoman can't so easily fit in to the "normal" world.<br />
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These aren't simply cosmetic issues. These are issues that preclude regular interaction without a lot of strength. They require determination, and they require growth. They require the kind of growth that can turn hearts cold, as you learn to stop caring what other people think of you - which can, in turn, make a person eventually numb to the feelings that others take for granted - inclusion, acceptance, love. <br />
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I look at Marrow and I see her as beautiful, and I always did, even though I didn't realize why until very recently. But that beauty wasn't simply a reaction to her physical appearance. It was a beauty of harmony - a kinship I felt with her past and present - and hopefully future. It was a kinship that made me see and understand why she felt the need to hide from others, to harden her heart, to live in the metaphorical or actual sewers beneath the bustling city. <br />
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That she was a "freak" was secondary; after all, that was sort of the point of the Morlocks.<br />
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What resonated with me was the character's ultimate reality in terms of reflecting my own life, in terms of reflecting my own experiences with humanity - just writ large in her superhero story, writ in fantasy.<br />
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And the metaphor extends even to her powers and how I've chosne to live my own life. The growths of bone could simply be a curse to Marrow, a painful disease. And I know that there are transwoman who refuse to live their lives and who hide and wrap their arms around their knees and refuse to step out into the world, who live in the darkness of the tunnels they have carved for themselves, never venturing into the world for fear of retribution and hate - for fear of mirrors, for fear of experiencing a higher degree of the brutality of self-loathing; hating oneself, after all, can be more painful than any cruel words from a passerby.<br />
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But that's not what Marrow does.<br />
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Marrow doesn't hide in the darkness. She uses it as a tool, a weapon. She uses the foreign growths of her body as tools. She uses her hardened heart as a means of survival; after all, even when someone <i>rips out her heart</i>, she survives.<br />
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What doesn't kill Marrow doesn't just make her stronger.<br />
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It makes her <i>better</i>.<br />
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Her body's out-of-control growths could destroy her. But she hasn't let that happen. She's turned herself into a warrior she wouldn't be if she didn't have those growths. <br />
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She's the person who she is <i>because</i> of her growths, not just in spite of them.<br />
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And, most of all, she accepts these changes and, more often than not, embraces them.<br />
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Even more than that, she breaks off pieces of herself and uses them to improve her changes of success. The objects of her suffering are, as I said, the tools of her survival, so this only makes sense. But think about the metaphor.<br />
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When I write, it isn't the banal day-to-day experiences that have helped me to grow into the person I am now. It's my memories of the tough times, the difficult challenges that led me to this point in my life. Sure, it led me to diabetes - but it also led me to strength, courage, friendship, intelligence, comprehension of the world around me. My status as a transwoman has caused me pain, just as Marrow's bone growths can cause her pain - but she breaks off those pieces of herself and leaps into the fray.<br />
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And I love her for that.<br />
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So there's the cake of Marrow's character. She represents, to me, all the women who have ever suffered simply for the nonexistent "crime" of not matching some person or society's preconceived ideas of beauty or normalcy. She represents, to me, the power that we have to take the wounds inflicted upon us and transform them through our minds and bodies into weapons that we can use to survive and to become better, to evolve beyond the petty constraints of those people or those societies.<br />
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We're better and stronger because of our wounds, not in spite of them. And we need to realize that the way Marrow does. We're not weak because we're mutations - we're strong for the differences, and we have to celebrate them. We have to celebrate these variances in gender, pigment, sexual orientaton - all the metaphors that rise when one thinks of mutation in comic books as symbolic of minorities of any kind, whichever group you can call your own because of who you are and the kinship with others that can come from what you've endured. <br />
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We're all different. We're all unique. But those of us who have experienced the lash of true societal exclusion know that's our strength and our weapon. When society screams at us to get back into the sewers, we know that's where we can turn into the people we're meant to be. We're not damned for that exclusion, because it will be the chrysalis that helps us turn into the warriors of change that we were always meant to be.<br />
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And it doesn't matter whether we have a disease like diabetes, or bones growing out of our backs, or one leg, or dark or light skin, or a weird growth that doesn't belong between our legs or any other mutation life throws at us. We can have our metaphorical hearts ripped out and come back because of these mutations.<br />
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That realization isn't because of Marrow's status as <u><i><b>extreme</b></i></u> or because of any 1990s frosting. It's because she resonates with a fundamental reality that outsider readers know, a reality that we've all experienced in their own lives. It's because, deep down, she is a strong character that reflects our realities in so many ways. <br />
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Plus, I happen to think that her hair ROCKS.<br />
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So there's that, even though some artists give her a look less similar to myself.<br />
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It's different when an artist reinterprets an established character into having a new look, but I eventually get used to it.<br />
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It's all part of the character's growth.<br />
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<br />Dee Emm Elmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14053652749413575579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1555007489284044452.post-67874153390090495242013-11-12T23:18:00.003-08:002014-03-02T14:49:55.954-08:00"Now, it's OUR TURN!" (Janet Van Dyne, aka The Wasp)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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"Now, it's OUR TURN!" (Janet Van Dyne, aka The Wasp)<br />
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That's Janet Van Dyne, also known as The Wasp.<br />
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She's been on my mind, because I've been thinking about leadership. Now, it's no secret that I'm a government employee. As a result, I was one of the more than 800,000 people who found themselves temporarily out of a job and not being paid during the "Government Shutdown" that ran from October 1st to October 16th. </div>
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So, yeah - you <i>bet</i> I've been thinking about leadership.</div>
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More specifically, I've been thinking about what kind of people seek positions of leadership, and whether such people are the sorts of people who ought to be allowed to lead us.</div>
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But I'm not just talking about governments. <br />
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I'm talking about any group of people that ends up with someone moving into a position of leadership. And, of course, this has me also thinking about the obstacles some groups of people face in trying to access positions of leadership, up to and including the basic authority of self-determination in various global cultures.</div>
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This, of course, has me focusing my thoughts on women and girls, who traditionally and historically have faced uphill battles in many cultures around the globe in terms of leadership and self-determination. And you know what? I think that's all the more reason why women and girls can and should lead in so many ways.<br />
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But it's not as simple as all that. It can be complex, and there can be in-fighting and cliques and complications. There can be disagreements over how to get things done. And those in positions of authority or renown can sometimes stumble and fall. <br />
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This brings me to a key example. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0afoiRV1Fs6u3CraHW6EEO9C68grJfbNLszatM3437Z7nHGsmccyWYCbcyirdSHHCwfFeZw5pIHbzNSXSrQG5cGxHZyAELqdIU1fGySSCvtrsJ6tckpjZ2mIyjUdmoSnopUXV25HKfoUq/s1600/Jezebel_Logo.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0afoiRV1Fs6u3CraHW6EEO9C68grJfbNLszatM3437Z7nHGsmccyWYCbcyirdSHHCwfFeZw5pIHbzNSXSrQG5cGxHZyAELqdIU1fGySSCvtrsJ6tckpjZ2mIyjUdmoSnopUXV25HKfoUq/s640/Jezebel_Logo.png" height="163" width="640" /></a></div>
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Take <a href="http://jezebel.com/sorry-republicans-young-women-will-never-vote-for-you-1462980938" target="_blank">this article</a>, for instance. It really got me thinking about leadership in this way.<br />
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Here we have Jezebel, a website that says it's about empowering feminists. <br />
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And then they go and publish the following content:<br />
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<a href="http://jezebel.com/" target="_blank">Jezebel</a> is regarded by many people as being an irreverent website that looks at public issues from the point of view of women. They are often seen as leaders in breaking stories of interest to women from a woman's perspective. <br />
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Historically, articles on Jezebel's website have been highly critical of people and policies that objectify or diminish women. But, then, along comes that article's language: "Beckies?" "Uptight suburbanite women?" "Conservative-looking?"<br />
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So this begs the question - is it OK for people to judge women based on how they look? Is it OK to say that a woman's appearance makes her look "uptight?" Isn't that dangerously close to the logic that says it's OK for someone to look at a woman and say she looks "loose?" <br />
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I submit that it's never cool. But how could people who are viewed as leaders in pointing out the bad behavior of those who objectify women suddenly go off the rails and do it themselves?<br />
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I submit that it's a critical failing of self-analysis, the moment when a cause becomes The Cause, and when the will to power to change the world takes over and overrides common sense.<br />
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The temptation to demand control in order to affect change grows too strong, and we end up using the tactics of our opponents. There's a seductive quality to this will to power. It whispers to us that we can make the world a better place, if only we sacrifice our principles and use our opponents' methods.<br />
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So, if even the best of us can be so quick to give in to temptation, how do we make sure that the people who lead us are the right ones for the job? How do we monitor the activities of people who take up the mantle of representing our viewpoints and issues? <br />
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Here's the answer.<br />
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We can't.<br />
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Our leaders - whether elected or self-appointed or given the mantle by virtue of happenstance - are not gods. Gods are fictional. And, even if our leaders <i>were</i> gods, our fictions tell us the gods wouldn't do that much better than we do, because they'd be subject to the same temptations we mortals deal with day to day.<br />
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So is it hopeless? <br />
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Of course not.<br />
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In America, our principle symbol of liberty is a woman, of course. And, as you can see in the picture, she holds a torch. A torch can light the way, but it can also be used to shed light into the darkness.<br />
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And that's where I think our responsibility - the responsibility of those who aren't leaders - comes into play. <br />
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It's our job to shine our own personal spotlights on the people who choose to be or end up becoming our leaders.<br />
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Leaders sometimes mess up. Leaders sometimes falter. Leaders often fail us. And - if we shine our spotlights on them - they often don't live up to our expectations.<br />
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But that's precisely why we have to shine that spotlight - every time.<br />
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It's not the leaders' job to tell us they're doing a good job. It's our job to make sure they are.<br />
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So what does voting, civic duty and the seductive power of leadership to corrupt have to do with Janet Van Dyne? <br />
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The answer is: everything.<br />
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Allow me to elaborate with a particular quote from a well-known book.<br />
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And it's as simple as that.<br />
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And Janet Van Dyne is regarded as one of the greatest leaders of <i>The Avengers </i>for the very reason articulated in the quote.<br />
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But to understand Janet's power as a leader, we have to look at her less-than-authoritative beginnings.<br />
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Janet, in her inception as a character, wasn't exactly afforded the same respect she has commanded in more modern stories. <br />
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At the start, she was portrayed in a very stereotypical fashion, portrayed as a spoiled young woman who was used to living a posh lifestyle.<br />
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In other words, few of her teammates saw her as someone with leadership potential.<br />
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What's also unfortunate is that Janet's initial contributions to the Avengers team were often restricted.<br />
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Writers didn't exactly take advantage of the character to her full potential. <br />
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At the start, she wasn't leading much beyond ... wasps.<br />
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Janet was, sadly, relegated to such "wasp attacks" - and the occasional spying mission - in these first few adventures.<br />
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And nobody was thinking of electing the woman who could control wasps as the leader of a team that sometimes took its orders from Captain America.<br />
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But, eventually, she did take a position of leadership.<br />
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And, in point of fact, this shift made for a great series of stories - classic Avengers tales, in which we got the chance to see Janet slowly transform from "The Winsome Wasp" into a full-fledged hero and eventually the leader of what's possibly the greatest superhero team in comic books.<br />
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But here's the point of it: Janet didn't set out to lead the Avengers. She simply got the job after a while - and yes, as it turns out, she was a good leader. And despite her many costume changes over the years, that mantle of leadership returned again and again - because it suited her. <br />
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And Janet inspires me not just for the quality of her leadership or her fashion sense, but for the nature of how she leads. She inspires me in part <i>because</i> of the difficulties she has faced in her life. She inspires me because she shows that, when leadership is thrust upon a good person, the person often rises to the occasion.<br />
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And I need that reminder in my own life, because of how cynical I can become regarding real life leaders. I need to immerse myself in a world where brave and courageous leaders fight the good fight to overcome the seductive temptation of corruption. It's like taking a shower for my mental state - a scrubbing brush I use to exfoliate my spirits when real leaders prove they're beneath our trust.<br />
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The Wasp also helps me remember that strength and character don't necessary come from an austere life. Neither do these traits come from a carefree or untroubled life. Virtue doesn't always come from someone who has lived a "pure" existence free of adversity. A person's authority doesn't necessarily mean that person has to never have been a victim in her life.<br />
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Janet isn't perfect. She's made mistakes. She's taken the wrong path - multiple times. She's fallen in with bad people and made poor choices. But I still think she's the best leader the Avengers have ever had - and it's in part because of these problems she's overcome.<br />
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In other words, it's specifically because she's led a challenged and difficult life that she makes such a good leader - because she's been through the traumas and seen the abuse.<br />
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She's seen what sorts of seriously severe damage untamed aggression and corrupt behavior can cause.<br />
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<br />
And we know from her history with these sorts of traumas that she'd rather suffer untold agony than treat people the way she was once treated in her life. <br />
<br />
She has faced abuse and said "no" to the temptation to inflict it on others. She has risen above any desire to make others suffer to elevate herself from her own suffering. <br />
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And when she fights her battles, it's not for herself or her own aggrandizement. Rather, it's to defend the people who count on her to stand up and represent and guide them.<br />
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<br />
So what does it mean to be a good leader, then?<br />
<br />
To me, it means not wanting to be a leader - the top trait of good leaders throughout history, from a certain point of view. <br />
<br />
But it also means being willing to serve as a beacon to inspire others, despite not seeking power.<br />
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<br />
To me, it's about listening to the voice of one's conscience, and to the voices of the people around you.<br />
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It's about prioritizing those voices over the voice that might tell you that you could do "just a little bit more" if you succumbed to those aforementioned temptations.<br />
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It's about tuning them out and focusing on what's important, the goal in front of you.<br />
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<br /></div>
It's about recognizing you're not perfect.<br />
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It's about recognizing you make mistakes.<br />
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It's about owning your mistakes, no matter how embarrassing they might be.<br />
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<br />
It's about always seeking truth - both in the world around you and inside of yourself.<br />
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It's about being willing to face the ugliness that's inside yourself and other people - and being able to come out the other side of confronting that ugliness with your sanity intact.<br />
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It's about finding and using your pride in yourself to go forward, without that pride being muted by what you've faced in the past, and how the voices that narrate the world try to limit what can be achieved - and who can achieve it, and how.<br />
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<br />
<br />
It's about courage that transcends facing off against enemies. It's the courage to keep your quest to achieve your goals in check, so that your cause doesn't become The Cause. <br />
<br />
It's about setting goals with others if you want to change the world you share with them. It's about recognizing the importance of sharing of yourself.<br />
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It's about focusing on recognizing the humanity in your opponents as much as you focus on the humanity of those you support, even at the cost of achievement of what you consider success.<br />
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<br />
But, to me, all of that is secondary to one element I think every leader should contemplate when making a decision, a question every leader should ask.<br />
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I think every leader should be able to ask whether or not they will be able to look back at every decision they have made and determine that it was made not for expediency or convenience or achievement, but because it was truly the most moral and correct decision to make.<br />
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When we do that, we can grow from any size to become both leaders <i>and</i> heroes.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Mlj6N3147KPX6Z3s6hr3FpHR6pBDyeBd2a7cGYhqcWEwz_lWHUhcm8HcN3dKtg45N42H0zIkHeOrodHLnokMlm99SIz2jZMEq6zQClQte9jYFTogQd-NqWVdmiEStgtmYbptuLjMaG7v/s1600/Waspjanet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Mlj6N3147KPX6Z3s6hr3FpHR6pBDyeBd2a7cGYhqcWEwz_lWHUhcm8HcN3dKtg45N42H0zIkHeOrodHLnokMlm99SIz2jZMEq6zQClQte9jYFTogQd-NqWVdmiEStgtmYbptuLjMaG7v/s1600/Waspjanet.jpg" /></a></div>
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Dee Emm Elmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14053652749413575579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1555007489284044452.post-56665617964432171122013-09-10T14:09:00.000-07:002014-05-25T21:25:10.960-07:00"I'm sick of people trying to shoot me, run me over or blow me up!" (Dr. Harleen Quinzel, MD - aka Harley Quinn) <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7FJfNKxZDYWVPDhXoL-46Z-sbjYvBrkk2IFosQFj7oPzKlZMW1Cam6YdXGYT-ATzgbNbKCyKdT4XSEMsxRPstZAXMd3f9EW84OUjaDrDcrC_inKkOIG_D92UN9iCKR7ew93-Rq_rr9rPs/s1600/photo-48350.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7FJfNKxZDYWVPDhXoL-46Z-sbjYvBrkk2IFosQFj7oPzKlZMW1Cam6YdXGYT-ATzgbNbKCyKdT4XSEMsxRPstZAXMd3f9EW84OUjaDrDcrC_inKkOIG_D92UN9iCKR7ew93-Rq_rr9rPs/s1600/photo-48350.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a></div>
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"I'm sick of people trying to shoot me, run me over or blow me up!" (Dr. Harleen Quinzel, MD - aka Harley Quinn) </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-bDNtDkYV95QSLbxFnzCpKApp09bzb7wAEYPhDYfK0DbpMBunJneCY6AidGybmhntQFrULrGOVOqscs7mbg-3TJPn5lQKRb4MjnTSFZ4Z2j7xnVwBFMu6oQtkO-OuGWe0Gx1xoeYZqfOu/s1600/harley_quinn_by_jakebartok-d5i17gm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-bDNtDkYV95QSLbxFnzCpKApp09bzb7wAEYPhDYfK0DbpMBunJneCY6AidGybmhntQFrULrGOVOqscs7mbg-3TJPn5lQKRb4MjnTSFZ4Z2j7xnVwBFMu6oQtkO-OuGWe0Gx1xoeYZqfOu/s1600/harley_quinn_by_jakebartok-d5i17gm.jpg" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
Can a villain also be an inspiration?</div>
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I have proof that the answer is yes - in my own life, at least. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
That villain would be one Dr. Harleen Quinzel, MD - otherwise known as Harley Quinn.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKh0iLw9B5mSwgWKVpqzUUX-8QFzUXvrHSKBK1VXAxS4v0k02U7d-7xnXuFQkEiRQLjAqeR152eZA6OeGC0hQIKq3DyyVucCVibXplQJNXFkPCxRwkBhaVDfsW-06jhVtBt6yEBlSAUn7D/s1600/1288305-harley_quinn_harley_quinn_8060110_1280_1024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKh0iLw9B5mSwgWKVpqzUUX-8QFzUXvrHSKBK1VXAxS4v0k02U7d-7xnXuFQkEiRQLjAqeR152eZA6OeGC0hQIKq3DyyVucCVibXplQJNXFkPCxRwkBhaVDfsW-06jhVtBt6yEBlSAUn7D/s1600/1288305-harley_quinn_harley_quinn_8060110_1280_1024.jpg" /></a></div>
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Harley is one of those characters that I figure isn't so widely-known, so I've included here some basic details from her <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harley_quinn" target="_blank">page</a> at Wikipedia.</div>
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<br />
So, now that you know the story, you're possibly calling me a hypocrite. <br />
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I can almost hear the complaints before I even publish this piece.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3UvKwHamjWTF6M5ZMkGdUWa6aQM3OtoGYfABnFyMaKatFWMll9x4lLd1-lzyCVj9oCmOwScaaTp0dHQ8kwIbT38OLQ2QxO57Y7PvB7w4glocj3h-cPAWP63zVqsTV7RwixGSxHQerhehF/s1600/angryharley.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3UvKwHamjWTF6M5ZMkGdUWa6aQM3OtoGYfABnFyMaKatFWMll9x4lLd1-lzyCVj9oCmOwScaaTp0dHQ8kwIbT38OLQ2QxO57Y7PvB7w4glocj3h-cPAWP63zVqsTV7RwixGSxHQerhehF/s1600/angryharley.jpg" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
And I can almost hear those criticisms levied against me because I've heard them levied against other comic book fans who've spoken out in defense of Harley Quinn, who have found something to admire in her.</div>
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<i>She's an example of an abused woman</i>, say these opponents of the character. <i>She's been damaged by Joker's madness and cruelty. She's been battered. She's been victimized. She's a symbol of patriarchy influencing a woman toward all kinds of self-harm. She's incredibly problematic.</i> </div>
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My response is simple: "Yep."</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRkjqDI3a3coNUhOgIR_UlHQbIm1753eqCvQ-toJQuEixwMAYtQeCOuUrs-mzF19WZSpCq1tF6ItHBMAmlXtn5YlRlADwPyjxeu1xJUTH27qyfM4hCpxQgL7vQ43dmMAEihCecPFFUGWIF/s1600/hunt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRkjqDI3a3coNUhOgIR_UlHQbIm1753eqCvQ-toJQuEixwMAYtQeCOuUrs-mzF19WZSpCq1tF6ItHBMAmlXtn5YlRlADwPyjxeu1xJUTH27qyfM4hCpxQgL7vQ43dmMAEihCecPFFUGWIF/s1600/hunt.jpg" /></a></div>
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<i>Then how</i>, I'm asked, <i>can you support the idea of women being strong and self-reliant when you're supposedly inspired by someone as battered and victimized as Harley is?</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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My response is, again, simple: "I'm not inspired by battered, victimized Harley."</div>
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<br /></div>
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Because I'm not.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAftjj9zRUMV5BU2fK-DloChEgSsC8w5K0UT7pbceeEINThBAY8cmRxFKO1iUeqkSgrZIE-bjsRBncuMxFRFKjJtJY_kWcZatgY_DfRMmiai53Hp4xQNgS7mcXRnG5wpAgMmTBQztpLZ3e/s1600/HQ_BT_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAftjj9zRUMV5BU2fK-DloChEgSsC8w5K0UT7pbceeEINThBAY8cmRxFKO1iUeqkSgrZIE-bjsRBncuMxFRFKjJtJY_kWcZatgY_DfRMmiai53Hp4xQNgS7mcXRnG5wpAgMmTBQztpLZ3e/s1600/HQ_BT_2.jpg" /></a></div>
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Yeah, you're right - Harley has been victimized at various points in her life. She's been tricked, abused and poorly-treated. She's been in an imaginary, one-sided relationship with what can be safely assumed to be one of the most abusive characters in all of literature.</div>
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She's been attacked and targeted. She's been severely bruised and beaten. She's been left for dead by her enemies enough times to possibly qualify her for 007 status.</div>
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But she won't stay down for anyone.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnLY8WJh1X8lbT_8c6FHYp1dvdODLvbwohw-oibHCW20Qq0GSvkjtxvyA5ZBaCcLsytAKHfPSK3ErsT9-xQhyphenhyphenh79LdmtqjC4Z8PqscOgJNyct-YUIT4muQ091JyzkXKGNQmUSgVhujY06A/s1600/harley_quinn_by_dve6-d4vzwmw.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnLY8WJh1X8lbT_8c6FHYp1dvdODLvbwohw-oibHCW20Qq0GSvkjtxvyA5ZBaCcLsytAKHfPSK3ErsT9-xQhyphenhyphenh79LdmtqjC4Z8PqscOgJNyct-YUIT4muQ091JyzkXKGNQmUSgVhujY06A/s1600/harley_quinn_by_dve6-d4vzwmw.jpg" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This durability, in and of itself, is - of course - no virtue. Cartoon cats and dogs manage this feat with regularity without having something to say about the human condition. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And this durability can - as many critics claim it does in Harley's case - simply point toward the repeating cycle of violence endured by abused women.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But I don't think that's the point of what Harley Quinn represents and who and what the character has become over time.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzNvXlZHYj0Ee_WkdTjQM6BoVabw99dkK_LGFE0yWm7LSz06iP51g9tD5B7Rir_sLxmoo1NcISmAayuxRUOmLHMtvyYxCwUBtl-IqAYr8uTPvmEnz9v7R-0w03fyRKZBQ-8iWMbhVf8AbV/s1600/harley.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzNvXlZHYj0Ee_WkdTjQM6BoVabw99dkK_LGFE0yWm7LSz06iP51g9tD5B7Rir_sLxmoo1NcISmAayuxRUOmLHMtvyYxCwUBtl-IqAYr8uTPvmEnz9v7R-0w03fyRKZBQ-8iWMbhVf8AbV/s1600/harley.jpg" /></a></div>
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Harley, to me, isn't simply a punching bag for abuse. Even with her first appearance in the phenomenal <i>Batman: The Animated Series</i>, she displays cool confidence in herself and her ability. When Bullock makes an advance on her at the party in that first episode, Harley knocks him away with a baton and proceeds without a second thought toward him, visibly amusing Montoya. </div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
That's because Harley has decided to be there and to be doing what she's doing. She may be doing it for terrible reasons, and she may indeed be a victim of Joker's trickery. But she's not portrayed as a weak person. She's not portrayed as someone who is cowering or - worse, and too common in modern American media - "begging" to be victimized.</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
Rather, she appears - more than anything else - to be enjoying herself.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjJ1V_2IBnkmg53fcvaUQVI7T83pS-kjM60xNU93L9a6zwBUwkcyfFiME4J-_E7MkKMDSnlbLLisf1ofAxqW-AsNvo0PeuxtfPmHYpAuQtj_R1HkKKOogQCmE6r-ABiHqlDa3SmDXzX8pA/s1600/300pxbtasharleyquinn02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjJ1V_2IBnkmg53fcvaUQVI7T83pS-kjM60xNU93L9a6zwBUwkcyfFiME4J-_E7MkKMDSnlbLLisf1ofAxqW-AsNvo0PeuxtfPmHYpAuQtj_R1HkKKOogQCmE6r-ABiHqlDa3SmDXzX8pA/s1600/300pxbtasharleyquinn02.jpg" /></a></div>
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So, is Harley a victim? The answer, to me, is that sometimes she is.</div>
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Sometimes, we all are.</div>
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We all get victimized sometimes. We all get fooled by that person we trusted. We all want to believe in a love we think is real that turns out to be in our heads. We all want to take that deal that sounds too good to be true because it is. We all want to show strength and falter. We all want to be brave and end up taking a cowardly way out of a bad situation. We all do it, whether we admit it or not. We make bad choices, fall in with the wrong people, come to the wrong conclusions, pick the wrong path and go down the wrong road in our lives.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik9mlKi6iRbKX4q0Z7TNxY-6G1MIM_pTcBUiLAFv5GUJMtTu2iypBCmqmaMKd4NgT7cx-cw02RG6wEY942WItVDQMpE9fqSdBICNacNiBDK-XJD78sQcxP8Gidc740EvpplpArl7vxsau8/s1600/2729238-dc_dames_by_alexisneo_d5m0a7u.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik9mlKi6iRbKX4q0Z7TNxY-6G1MIM_pTcBUiLAFv5GUJMtTu2iypBCmqmaMKd4NgT7cx-cw02RG6wEY942WItVDQMpE9fqSdBICNacNiBDK-XJD78sQcxP8Gidc740EvpplpArl7vxsau8/s1600/2729238-dc_dames_by_alexisneo_d5m0a7u.jpg" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
But Harley, to me, is a reminder that we're not stuck there. When we're victimized, we still have power. We have the power of our confidence, our willfulness, our personal strengths.</div>
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We all have the power to come out on the other side. </div>
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And this is why I don't think Harley is "crazy," either.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_LSsYYylxnTQ24p31eYxMTYN84TNat0O9fDoDeOXCS_CqEs_K_x4WWfOUIT424lq9YNT6_zRgqbUlLSbNpxIWV9jmhaFLE-C_8J90ZzzKhL2fstr00qfbfDDnbMod7yrFQqXtCtymBlsw/s1600/dc-comics-harley-quinn-HD-Wallpapers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_LSsYYylxnTQ24p31eYxMTYN84TNat0O9fDoDeOXCS_CqEs_K_x4WWfOUIT424lq9YNT6_zRgqbUlLSbNpxIWV9jmhaFLE-C_8J90ZzzKhL2fstr00qfbfDDnbMod7yrFQqXtCtymBlsw/s1600/dc-comics-harley-quinn-HD-Wallpapers.jpg" /></a></div>
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There are, of course, all kinds of problems and issues with how so-called modern societies treat people as "crazy." I honestly don't even like the word "crazy" except as a term to mean random-seeming patterns. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Mental illness is, of course, core to virtually all villainous characters in comics. They've had some kind of experience that drove them "over the edge" of sanity and this illness - this state of being - is expected to somehow explain all their behavior. "Oh, that person is crazy" and allow us to separate ourselves from them, as if we're not prone to their foibles or failures.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Except we all totally are.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8fOmM7BgNOuiLTw4W1ev-Tn0TuDaZ4t6Z8y6aiTfG3hyppD7EFqX91pmVHAewqhq2EhJJpNauUOZ8SPHnH1DKj9-XMxGRu2WnuZ-OxgstTS1YlTeAdujpYbj-HEjmftzD6onXyZZHPjcb/s1600/henchmen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8fOmM7BgNOuiLTw4W1ev-Tn0TuDaZ4t6Z8y6aiTfG3hyppD7EFqX91pmVHAewqhq2EhJJpNauUOZ8SPHnH1DKj9-XMxGRu2WnuZ-OxgstTS1YlTeAdujpYbj-HEjmftzD6onXyZZHPjcb/s1600/henchmen.jpg" /></a></div>
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We're human. They're human. </div>
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And - Harley's human.</div>
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Even though she's been abused by people in her past.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxfTlui8XnD6e6PhYfzRu7YF45bNmxgdw_npCGj0PeSk8btPizwYH8AMrOl8bQwcY1eSw63ezsMM1kJSwzTGFv8vcKHczPIsrtLwHU8GOIB19Z8VL9__JBkQibBA-lh-m5sRSzMD3xtDJj/s1600/trumpcard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxfTlui8XnD6e6PhYfzRu7YF45bNmxgdw_npCGj0PeSk8btPizwYH8AMrOl8bQwcY1eSw63ezsMM1kJSwzTGFv8vcKHczPIsrtLwHU8GOIB19Z8VL9__JBkQibBA-lh-m5sRSzMD3xtDJj/s1600/trumpcard.jpg" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
Because it's that exact same stigma that's applied to people who have been victimized that's applied to the so-called "crazy." And it's why it fits Harley so well as a character to be categorized as both by others. </div>
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Because we so often treat people who have been victimized as if they're as likewise "tainted" as the people we call "crazy."</div>
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We, ourselves, as members of civilized society, often seem to feel that people who are "crazy" or who have been victimized are suffering from some kind of invisible, cancerous malformation in their lives - a growth that somehow has been added to the whole of their being. We categorize them as having this terrifying "extra" element - where they are human plus victim - and we're desperately afraid it's catching. And it makes us behave toward victims like they're somehow unclean, somehow diseased. We don't want to acknowledge them. We don't want to be connected to them. And we certainly don't want to touch them.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWcp5y_atqOVcSWUAjQDGwIm-ynplQ6u85xoohTtKYzoUJ5spTZh1geSGyYAScaSAr86tExLa9GwTDVRoKnyhMpes8boqh4YfLiFdCeIWc6JK8n4yAb3R4Nn6RHuQPCsGJeRUvleWnpoB0/s1600/1337557035_harley-joker-animated-series.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWcp5y_atqOVcSWUAjQDGwIm-ynplQ6u85xoohTtKYzoUJ5spTZh1geSGyYAScaSAr86tExLa9GwTDVRoKnyhMpes8boqh4YfLiFdCeIWc6JK8n4yAb3R4Nn6RHuQPCsGJeRUvleWnpoB0/s1600/1337557035_harley-joker-animated-series.jpg" /></a></div>
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Thus, we flee from examining the real situations that create victims. We work very hard to ostracize the victims. We work very diligently to give them places of "outreach," never confessing the reality that in order to have to reach out toward someone we have to first acknowledge that we've created a distance.</div>
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<br /></div>
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And we do create that distance in so many ways, and not just in terms of patriarchy. There are all kinds of societal structures that do this, even within feminism itself which purports to help women who are victims of abuse.</div>
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People say they want to help the victims, but so much of this so-called help consists of distant advocacy and not the welcoming embrace that's needed. We push those we claim to care about away at the times they most need our help and our love.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR5hbd5YxzFmkv8F216FqF9R7yt7BFB_viQsD7UOC2UqR2wpaVjERvqgWXdAX8EQDQbuVu2z1M21KWpgjMPx6OUyVZdyKrq8AloYlK-qw-T9CHBdBK1SbPuFX8DyZbEDCrNbKzhhcTUjvN/s1600/sorry.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR5hbd5YxzFmkv8F216FqF9R7yt7BFB_viQsD7UOC2UqR2wpaVjERvqgWXdAX8EQDQbuVu2z1M21KWpgjMPx6OUyVZdyKrq8AloYlK-qw-T9CHBdBK1SbPuFX8DyZbEDCrNbKzhhcTUjvN/s1600/sorry.png" /></a></div>
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To me, Harley is a reminder of all these things, manifest as a character who also has the strength and resolve not to let herself succumb or surrender to victimization. </div>
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To me, Harley's mistakes in action and judgment make her stronger. They're what lead her to becoming the unstoppable force she is in any given moment. </div>
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Yes, she's been a victim. But she's no different from the rest of us in that. We all have our flaws and obsessions.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizPcgDLbkV1XkVQU4HotI6e5oN_-a22f2fgS9lUe3OZbazBHvIWpb6KAum_JNlM3TxSf9XeuxmUezfId0Wyy_jEDWRoi440zf1MlV9Co7GqfU4y3BBJEIeNMLjV-FpYa1ZmxDk5dvL_7a_/s1600/Batman_Harley_&_Ivy_3_9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizPcgDLbkV1XkVQU4HotI6e5oN_-a22f2fgS9lUe3OZbazBHvIWpb6KAum_JNlM3TxSf9XeuxmUezfId0Wyy_jEDWRoi440zf1MlV9Co7GqfU4y3BBJEIeNMLjV-FpYa1ZmxDk5dvL_7a_/s1600/Batman_Harley_&_Ivy_3_9.jpg" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So is Harley's path the path I think people should take? It certainly isn't. Harley is a fictional character in a world where consequences are only as meaningful as editorial continuity forces them to be - and even that's not terribly consistent.</div>
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So what's appealing to me about Harley?</div>
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It's her incredible capacity to love.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw42GQycPbBqG9sjx-I_26mRhpIXt82eOO_7lYeFD2vrfjvc3iIPBSQQ9lzUi91XzeT9XVRa-cuOv0yyhl0nNQiL9rYH50OmoKbg8xhotq_wimZKtCeVE2e-PaSXZ6_aThNBarUQoLm27w/s1600/poison-ivy-and-harley-quinn-by-bruce-timm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw42GQycPbBqG9sjx-I_26mRhpIXt82eOO_7lYeFD2vrfjvc3iIPBSQQ9lzUi91XzeT9XVRa-cuOv0yyhl0nNQiL9rYH50OmoKbg8xhotq_wimZKtCeVE2e-PaSXZ6_aThNBarUQoLm27w/s1600/poison-ivy-and-harley-quinn-by-bruce-timm.jpg" /></a></div>
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Key here, despite the Bruce Timm picture above, is that I'm talking about Harley's capacity to love as an abstraction. I'm not even talking about a specific person.</div>
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And chief among all the many loves of Harley Quinn is her capacity to love herself - who she is and what she is. </div>
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She loves herself in spite of her mistakes. She loves herself in spite of her victimhood. She loves herself in spite of her past. She loves herself in spite of how others treat her. She loves herself in spite of herself, sometimes. She loves herself at the best of times, and she loves herself at the worst of times.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYeB28TMSd5s7rZBXpE3_8RVHHzljg8yGDfI8W2KCcyk3FMQ05Px67iVl6TK4dL3vtqojRtF4B6Lsmnfp5DDpR7f4oPKVAfCc447UPFLStIImHMhiPL7zGKTp2UOGDxExpDRWLhEAhBc4R/s1600/Harley_Quinn_Wallpaper_by_Ciro1984.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYeB28TMSd5s7rZBXpE3_8RVHHzljg8yGDfI8W2KCcyk3FMQ05Px67iVl6TK4dL3vtqojRtF4B6Lsmnfp5DDpR7f4oPKVAfCc447UPFLStIImHMhiPL7zGKTp2UOGDxExpDRWLhEAhBc4R/s1600/Harley_Quinn_Wallpaper_by_Ciro1984.jpg" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
Now, as I've said, continuity in modern comics is a bit of a mess. Nobody's really sure what's "happened" and what "hasn't happened" in the current continuity of the universe where Harley Quinn lives and loves. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But, to me, I see Harley as always existing in that precise perfect moment after she has overcome Joker's trickery and has decided to set off into the world, to become her own person.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I don't put her back with Joker. I think of her as having achieved that freedom - though she still clearly has tragic affection for him despite his wickedness. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg90tWGWqIbXLRwTJrw0GD0FLuDVcIr28OTi9tqHWZjkatKPm2q1t57OCLzrzwePphXrdcAeBmV6c2lXqiDn3o4CDuEuaMAku93CtmgYKk1_b71brWlLk7vaIAXdajA4WBh5pwQbdaP4jYI/s1600/tumblr_m04qemI28d1qbemuko1_500.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg90tWGWqIbXLRwTJrw0GD0FLuDVcIr28OTi9tqHWZjkatKPm2q1t57OCLzrzwePphXrdcAeBmV6c2lXqiDn3o4CDuEuaMAku93CtmgYKk1_b71brWlLk7vaIAXdajA4WBh5pwQbdaP4jYI/s1600/tumblr_m04qemI28d1qbemuko1_500.png" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
Harley isn't perfect. She is, after all, a villainous character who's out to defeat Batman, who is ostensibly the hero of most stories featuring Harley. The editorial staff of <a href="http://dccomics.com/" target="_blank">DC Comics</a> do work hard to eliminate the possibility of Batman being the hero, but they haven't ever been able to succeed at that despite their best efforts.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But I think that Harley's limitless capacity to love is to be lauded, even as we condemn her choice of lover. That paradox is essential to the character, and it's essential to love as it exists in the human heart. </div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
People mess up. They choose to be with people who are terrible for them, and it gets them very badly hurt. This much is absolute fact in the real world. But I don't think we can turn our backs on people who mess up like this. We can't just abandon them. We have to help them. I think we have to help them most of all. They're the ones most in need. And I keep saying it, and I'll keep saying it over and over: they're human beings human beings human beings human beings, no matter how many mistakes they've made and even if they've gone back to their abusers.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh21VtdZbzQHmNLIxpIUnXu3gHO2dpjNXKsr56ka1fboAsk2pMN5mCJLFPxDu5LsDD8BdhsiejKGbMU98GclxjBtPXz8euN270QzGrmUHpYJza9MmgeeFuz8Qr5ESGlvXypF9iNqzObvgZi/s1600/harleyabuse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh21VtdZbzQHmNLIxpIUnXu3gHO2dpjNXKsr56ka1fboAsk2pMN5mCJLFPxDu5LsDD8BdhsiejKGbMU98GclxjBtPXz8euN270QzGrmUHpYJza9MmgeeFuz8Qr5ESGlvXypF9iNqzObvgZi/s1600/harleyabuse.jpg" /></a></div>
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We can be angry about it. We can rail against abuse. But we cannot - not even once - deny the humanity of people who are victimized because of their victimization, or because of the mistakes they make. This is crucial to me.</div>
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We have to love them as people even as we work to get them the advocacy they need to escape the abuse.</div>
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And that's why Harley is heroic to me.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRoX6-cj4ZHJ2jRKSMYEPQirjMJzGynSrkMC4ApSmehEybMdY6xb2RE2iI5c8HXGXm0PeVDyXOWBc95phDbtK-N3-izPkRGraIS3Nk3trprWD6yoGkGsnZ6g-uwxeMY_h3vkjvGKqSnU43/s1600/Batman-Harley-and-Ivy-3-2004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRoX6-cj4ZHJ2jRKSMYEPQirjMJzGynSrkMC4ApSmehEybMdY6xb2RE2iI5c8HXGXm0PeVDyXOWBc95phDbtK-N3-izPkRGraIS3Nk3trprWD6yoGkGsnZ6g-uwxeMY_h3vkjvGKqSnU43/s1600/Batman-Harley-and-Ivy-3-2004.jpg" /></a></div>
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She escaped the abuse. She got out. She did it, and she loves herself. She's achieved the goal, and found hope and confidence and power. She's found strength and friendship and has become part of the world again.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And - to step outside of continuity and discuss my favorite incarnation of the character - she even goes so far in some iterations as to become an ambassador of love.</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
You got that? She was a victim. She found the strength of loving herself, and got out - and she decides to try to spread that love to others to give them the strength they need.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKnGUMEQka12gSNzivycHJXTcr6iyk_HbbBLV8pYDD1Makau_bjtbOEeMdZc6ft85-FUKwPihebHeJHR_nM2Fc7khieo0tVVvlZ_cKSUpoQlkU30YasIDwqjlHTJzoTuDIuhuxmsiHmI7i/s1600/tumblr_lqxc8qxrhb1qcp3boo1_400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKnGUMEQka12gSNzivycHJXTcr6iyk_HbbBLV8pYDD1Makau_bjtbOEeMdZc6ft85-FUKwPihebHeJHR_nM2Fc7khieo0tVVvlZ_cKSUpoQlkU30YasIDwqjlHTJzoTuDIuhuxmsiHmI7i/s1600/tumblr_lqxc8qxrhb1qcp3boo1_400.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
In fact, what other people call "crazy" about Harley, I don't see as "crazy" at all. <br />
<br />
Rather, I see her as a character possessed of an incredible <i>joi de vie</i> - that capacity of love I talked about, that transcends everything else.<br />
<br />
Most of all, I see Harley as someone who loves herself and her life, even with all its wild twists and turns and her many flaws and the mistakes she's made. She understands that love of oneself and of life aren't about appreciating some abstract perfection. They're about appreciation for who people are and what life really is. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOp3D4QPpxgPWb2kbXUjHbeJQ_zxh8RAr740KvkhSEeA1jzWsTln09bMlCnjSKmldhnoiAB-tzXM3UAMmj6m9fiynzku-__lzKXP7knY6KwPo0h3NsHjJxQQwX2H4CKpdxTNlJQmpQQEuV/s1600/1803306-ulysses_highwater_love_harley_quinn_22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOp3D4QPpxgPWb2kbXUjHbeJQ_zxh8RAr740KvkhSEeA1jzWsTln09bMlCnjSKmldhnoiAB-tzXM3UAMmj6m9fiynzku-__lzKXP7knY6KwPo0h3NsHjJxQQwX2H4CKpdxTNlJQmpQQEuV/s1600/1803306-ulysses_highwater_love_harley_quinn_22.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
And that's why I had so much of a problem with the out-of-nowhere portrayal of Harley Quinn as killing herself in DC Comics' recent talent search.<br />
<br />
Here's the copy from the <a href="http://www.dccomics.com/node/305151" target="_blank">talent search page</a>:<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="field field-name-title field-type-ds field-label-hidden" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #3f3f3f; font-family: proxima, Arial; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; text-align: start;">
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<span style="font-size: small;">
Break into comics with Harley Quinn!</span></h2>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<form accept-charset="UTF-8" action="http://www.dccomics.com/node/305151" class="webform-client-form" enctype="multipart/form-data" id="webform-client-form-305151" method="post" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #3f3f3f; font-family: proxima, Arial; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: start;">
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<img alt="" src="http://media.dcentertainment.com/sites/default/files/580-HarleyQuinn1_rceimv4twg_.jpg" height="216" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; vertical-align: middle;" width="580" /></div>
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<div class="form-item webform-component webform-component-markup" id="webform-component-greeting" style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 1em 0px;">
<div style="box-sizing: border-box; margin-bottom: 1em;">
Harley Quinn is no stranger to a little breaking and entering for a good time and now, she’s going to help one talented artist break into comics with DC Entertainment’s Open Talent Search. That’s right, we’re looking for someone to draw one page of HARLEY QUINN #0 alongside some of comic’s most amazing talents, including Amanda Conner, Paul Pope, Bruce Timm, and a few other surprises, maybe even you!! </div>
<div style="box-sizing: border-box; margin-bottom: 1em;">
<span style="box-sizing: border-box; letter-spacing: 0.03em; margin: 0px;">Beginning this November, Jimmy Palmiotti and Amanda Conner will be writing the madcap adventures of Harley Quinn and they’ll need all the help they can get to handle her, so they’re opening the invitation to one undiscovered talent to join them. If you think you’ve got what it takes to be published in this special issue, then put on your working hat and start drawing now, because an opportunity like this doesn’t come along very often. </span></div>
<div style="box-sizing: border-box; margin-bottom: 1em;">
<span style="box-sizing: border-box; letter-spacing: 0.03em; margin: 0px;">Submissions can be Pencils, Pencils & inks or Pencils, inks & colors. Please keep in mind, the level of your work should be of professional-quality, so don't feel the need to ink or color your work if you're only confident in penciling.</span></div>
<div style="box-sizing: border-box; margin-bottom: 1em;">
<span style="box-sizing: border-box; letter-spacing: 0.03em; margin: 0px;">Oh, and did we mention that we’ll be reviewing the submissions ourselves to personally select Harley Quinn’s new creative accomplice? </span></div>
<div style="box-sizing: border-box; margin-bottom: 1em;">
<span style="box-sizing: border-box; letter-spacing: 0.03em; margin: 0px;">Harley Quinn. One page. Published work. Breaking into comics was never this fun. </span><span style="box-sizing: border-box; letter-spacing: 0.03em; margin: 0px;">;)</span></div>
<div style="box-sizing: border-box; margin-bottom: 1em;">
<span style="box-sizing: border-box; letter-spacing: 0.03em; margin: 0px;"><em style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: sans-serif; letter-spacing: 0.03em; line-height: 19.190340042114258px; margin: 0px;">—</em> <em style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px;">Jim & Dan</em></span></div>
<div style="box-sizing: border-box; margin-bottom: 1em;">
<strong style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px;">Here’s how to enter:</strong></div>
<ol style="box-sizing: border-box; list-style-image: initial; list-style-position: initial; margin: 0px auto; padding: 0px 0px 0px 2em; width: 550px;">
<li style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 525px;"><div style="box-sizing: border-box; margin-bottom: 1em;">
<span style="box-sizing: border-box; letter-spacing: 0.03em; margin: 0px;">Read the rules & regulations listed below to confirm that you are eligible to enter <strong style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px;">DC Entertainment’s Open Talent Search</strong> and agree to the terms and conditions</span>.</div>
</li>
<li style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 525px;"><div style="box-sizing: border-box; margin-bottom: 1em;">
<span style="box-sizing: border-box; letter-spacing: 0.03em; margin: 0px;">Read the following script page and give us your original artistic interpretation of what those four panels should look like on a single page</span>:</div>
<div style="box-sizing: border-box; margin-bottom: 1em;">
PAGE 15</div>
<div style="box-sizing: border-box; margin-bottom: 1em;">
4 panels</div>
<div style="box-sizing: border-box; margin-bottom: 1em;">
PANEL 1<br />
Harley is on top of a building, holding a large DETACHED cellphone tower in her hands as lightning is striking just about everywhere except her tower. She is looking at us like she cannot believe what she is doing. Beside herself. Not happy.</div>
<div style="box-sizing: border-box; margin-bottom: 1em;">
PANEL 2<br />
Harley is sitting in an alligator pond, on a little island with a suit of raw chicken on, rolling her eyes like once again, she cannot believe where she has found herself. We see the alligators ignoring her.</div>
<div style="box-sizing: border-box; margin-bottom: 1em;">
PANEL 3<br />
Harley is sitting in an open whale mouth, tickling the inside of the whale’s mouth with a feather. She is ecstatic and happy, like this is the most fun ever.</div>
<div style="box-sizing: border-box; margin-bottom: 1em;">
PANEL 4<br />
Harley sitting naked in a bathtub with toasters, blow dryers, blenders, appliances all dangling above the bathtub and she has a cord that will release them all. We are watching the moment before the inevitable death. Her expression is one of “oh well, guess that’s it for me” and she has resigned herself to the moment that is going to happe</div>
<div style="box-sizing: border-box; margin-bottom: 1em;">
<br /></div>
</li>
</ol>
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</div>
</form>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
A lot of people were offended by this contest, and I'm counting myself among them.<br />
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<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3jKnpFzxPD32q-d9dxCpAkc5ij94anG3XHBadmhlW4fp1zIoCcx_TAOF6WMuAfKUyimMy8MTyIcPg1Q9OzkXVRmdAPCRCMVnEOK3U1LzSA5LYULkuFEipCDMDBGoRlG_l7lyUhvd2MJNn/s1600/harley-quinn-valentines.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3jKnpFzxPD32q-d9dxCpAkc5ij94anG3XHBadmhlW4fp1zIoCcx_TAOF6WMuAfKUyimMy8MTyIcPg1Q9OzkXVRmdAPCRCMVnEOK3U1LzSA5LYULkuFEipCDMDBGoRlG_l7lyUhvd2MJNn/s1600/harley-quinn-valentines.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
Now, I understand from what I've read since the contest started that the intent of the panels was to bring back the invulnerable Looney Tunes Harley that I've always adored.<br />
<br />
And fans of Harley Quinn know the character often throws herself into extraordinarily precarious situations in the name of achieving her goals.<br />
<br />
But that's not the point here - not to me.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirP_Z21tPisAFqxVlcpZptFxo41YEc4JtlGO7qf5sK50yhVwxCqy2XMwJ4-WYu_DaCoXQToGp5ySDgJlRZxbDdgWz7Z2o5VLyaDdM8rm3up8Cv3eEuZrx5KQoYfhislyVPSWFXyzeRbdij/s1600/941578Harley_Quinn__35_-_Cover__HG_+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirP_Z21tPisAFqxVlcpZptFxo41YEc4JtlGO7qf5sK50yhVwxCqy2XMwJ4-WYu_DaCoXQToGp5ySDgJlRZxbDdgWz7Z2o5VLyaDdM8rm3up8Cv3eEuZrx5KQoYfhislyVPSWFXyzeRbdij/s1600/941578Harley_Quinn__35_-_Cover__HG_+%25281%2529.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
The point, to me, is that suicide isn't something that seems to fit the Harley character I know.<br />
<br />
She's full of too much passion, too much of that aforementioned <i>joi de vie</i> - possessed of too much zeal to survive and thrive and flourish to be portrayed as suicidal without context. <br />
<br />
It doesn't make sense without that context, at all, and simply becomes one more example of comic books sexualizing death and suffering for its women. Add the recent "damaged Goth girl" reimagining of Harley for the so-called "New 52" and you've got a recipe for this contest being seen as eroticizing a suicidal person's demise.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr5Tk9jitjcGlPbOlq_i3tSQHKMfug3hRz0GSoaofvvaFzuMTrnjbmuHG65bxuFvijUzYQrtTYLR7cnUqFK7kiYC7K7AfcMEJ8C92pxoN6elRP61rUN0wpUxZscZQiIVSNxB_459X4QhHH/s1600/harlequin-HarleyQuin.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr5Tk9jitjcGlPbOlq_i3tSQHKMfug3hRz0GSoaofvvaFzuMTrnjbmuHG65bxuFvijUzYQrtTYLR7cnUqFK7kiYC7K7AfcMEJ8C92pxoN6elRP61rUN0wpUxZscZQiIVSNxB_459X4QhHH/s1600/harlequin-HarleyQuin.png" /></a></div>
<br />
My Harley - the Dr. Harleen Quinzel, MD that I have come to love - wouldn't put up with those kinds of attitudes.<br />
<br />
That's not the approach to life she advocates. It's not how she thinks or behaves. It's not part of who and what she is.<br />
<br />
And Harley is strong enough any more - in my view of the character - that she doesn't tolerate people forcing her into any situation that goes against what she wants out of life.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ-c4NEeRSxfQ0qYEIjew5pjFtzSVNVZNIduReH3tLh7YQBDG7D-rvQtPd8z0PZ2TEwka6mHDgiI1qlkg_csoJTE2JwrxPUaTTmpV324e26LG-56jztjwMLiqcyE4fdP8KBMvnTn70lixn/s1600/HarleyQuinnTheJoker.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ-c4NEeRSxfQ0qYEIjew5pjFtzSVNVZNIduReH3tLh7YQBDG7D-rvQtPd8z0PZ2TEwka6mHDgiI1qlkg_csoJTE2JwrxPUaTTmpV324e26LG-56jztjwMLiqcyE4fdP8KBMvnTn70lixn/s1600/HarleyQuinnTheJoker.jpg" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
Harley has evolved from that first appearance, like so many comic book characters do when they touch upon something essential about the human condition. <br />
<br />
And for me, what Harley touched upon was all our desires to do whatever it takes, though it be thought mad, to achieve a dream.<br />
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For Harley, that dream is to see the entire world in love.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxzUSGgksuF5JPl6R3AsQTorQGGgmw7ib_ubQO_fbg_Pb1NMCi0BpbrSnSTqSUOpRJskpVmQ-9uTeE5sdkTAYybAytCUzL3HE9gBZeeO2npQrkfMCtHYeM4jGvdM411veirnD_0pmlWeZ8/s1600/heartharley.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxzUSGgksuF5JPl6R3AsQTorQGGgmw7ib_ubQO_fbg_Pb1NMCi0BpbrSnSTqSUOpRJskpVmQ-9uTeE5sdkTAYybAytCUzL3HE9gBZeeO2npQrkfMCtHYeM4jGvdM411veirnD_0pmlWeZ8/s1600/heartharley.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
So Harley plays that role as ambassador of love for the world. And she plays it to the hilt.<br />
<br />
Now, sure - those plans to help others on the path of love often ended with ridiculous disaster. That incarnation of her solo comic book was intended, after all, to be comedic. But the message, to me, is very clear. Victims have to learn to love themselves to get out, and if we want to be heroes and help others not be victims we have to work every day to spread that love, even to people who frustrate or discourage us, even to people who are victims themselves.</div>
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What could be more heroic than that?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhq_B_ZikpUHo5SVbx2cj3N4nVITgueBiY4bRbwF0XSd4zfMn13fRunSD2DKOrZZQZVOch31I89jc3Gj24OiQhxIinQ6mI0xjGVEBSNegUdwvusQ95T8rBqUGoimGVFgZgDKiIUknItCZh/s1600/photo-48350.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhq_B_ZikpUHo5SVbx2cj3N4nVITgueBiY4bRbwF0XSd4zfMn13fRunSD2DKOrZZQZVOch31I89jc3Gj24OiQhxIinQ6mI0xjGVEBSNegUdwvusQ95T8rBqUGoimGVFgZgDKiIUknItCZh/s1600/photo-48350.jpg" /></a></div>
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Dee Emm Elmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14053652749413575579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1555007489284044452.post-54591516393759385002013-07-28T20:24:00.004-07:002014-01-14T18:18:25.231-08:00"We've learned the hard way that some things are more important than awards." (Jerrica Benton, aka JEM)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6vlxsvl-zn5WnKRjizRXizcO2OW7MH0r3mBZBpirqbvFu00oDdo97VWjlzD6o8pD0eSXFj8SXbKM-jXOxVWrDRAnhpyrzNxVaUzV6lpRmAZB5mskfmp0i8uxkpSpsBViBJt5s4fxObbhH/s1600/Jem.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="527" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6vlxsvl-zn5WnKRjizRXizcO2OW7MH0r3mBZBpirqbvFu00oDdo97VWjlzD6o8pD0eSXFj8SXbKM-jXOxVWrDRAnhpyrzNxVaUzV6lpRmAZB5mskfmp0i8uxkpSpsBViBJt5s4fxObbhH/s640/Jem.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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"We've learned the hard way that some things are more important than awards."</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7NRpa2g8f4X16xMPpMNAKv2p29xKz3GoTr_vVMbgfXEq3U79eKUcOTCsEGYP3s-I41wKsCLVzJDdCvYUhzY4lq-NiBiEBAdh3bOblHDiooQpSOLQiOIaRU1FdbrL9GwWoRM1zYw0KJF3m/s1600/Jem_logo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7NRpa2g8f4X16xMPpMNAKv2p29xKz3GoTr_vVMbgfXEq3U79eKUcOTCsEGYP3s-I41wKsCLVzJDdCvYUhzY4lq-NiBiEBAdh3bOblHDiooQpSOLQiOIaRU1FdbrL9GwWoRM1zYw0KJF3m/s640/Jem_logo.jpg" width="488" /></a></div>
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<i>Me and my friends are Jem Girls.</i></div>
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<i>Jem - Jem is my name.</i></div>
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<i>Truly outrageous, that's a Jem Girl:</i></div>
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<i>glamor, fashion and fame.</i></div>
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Those words still give me the goosebumps of nostalgia. They're lyrics to one of the two theme songs of the animated television show <i>Jem.</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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Being something of a cult figure, the character of Jem isn't likely familiar to a lot of people who weren't growing up in a very specific period of time - specifically, the mid-to-late 1980s. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsV2YbbgcuohMzTGYqmWIf1NtkT0GLblsqUKTQV5Hu9cRcpNazbQrNToSej2x5oFaEQH2AGOtVVG9Hfz5QekmVDqzKjEd3HXw4NThADCLwzvMqPC1EdrBkoApYkvj-JaXoy6c7fdhrqTwW/s1600/80s-tv-show-cartoons.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsV2YbbgcuohMzTGYqmWIf1NtkT0GLblsqUKTQV5Hu9cRcpNazbQrNToSej2x5oFaEQH2AGOtVVG9Hfz5QekmVDqzKjEd3HXw4NThADCLwzvMqPC1EdrBkoApYkvj-JaXoy6c7fdhrqTwW/s1600/80s-tv-show-cartoons.jpg" /></a></div>
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As a result of that, I'll provide one of those helpful Wikipedia page pieces for those who wish to familiarize themselves before we continue.</div>
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Thanks to <a href="http://wikipedia.org/">wikipedia.org</a> for <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jem_(TV_series)" target="_blank">this</a> - </div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">So, let's set the stage. The year is 1985. I'm 13 years old. I'm walking the road of adolescence, trying to figure out where I'm going in my life and looking for adult role-models on how to do what's necessary to live as an adult.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-dQ8ZxTwr7qK28Llzou0Q7aU_Z0SOUQO_2zV4rw-vGLGWUxayVQV65IIfFVWdijwc2QF0q6m_6_mmk-jJBUdkSCVM4N2nLycgxj7QY4nxSdIx3kBJkVOBHmbgsr_13bs2HsYy371Gulfv/s1600/woman-shaving-face.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-dQ8ZxTwr7qK28Llzou0Q7aU_Z0SOUQO_2zV4rw-vGLGWUxayVQV65IIfFVWdijwc2QF0q6m_6_mmk-jJBUdkSCVM4N2nLycgxj7QY4nxSdIx3kBJkVOBHmbgsr_13bs2HsYy371Gulfv/s640/woman-shaving-face.png" width="427" /></a></div>
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As you may or may not have guessed, this was something of a problem for transgirls growing up in the 1980s. It was a different world then than it is now. It was a different environment socially and politically at that time. </div>
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We didn't have resources like Jazz's "<a href="https://www.facebook.com/Jazztrans" target="_blank">A Corner for Transgender Kids</a>." We didn't have the <a href="http://www.transkidspurplerainbow.org/" target="_blank">Transkids Purple Rainbow Foundation</a>. </div>
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Heck, I didn't even consider the <i>idea</i> of a purple rainbow.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxmnbjv4YzoM8l6HiM6La-YUb8w68U5ZEBcP6E8PCZBpVQGFOTiePHJEKVf8RyVbzicNvZVaMTqoJxmKN7wJTkkaQ64DfaKdiHeOCpUe3FiXgwcuGfi2EdtdGY3fEtdfXuNd-YMTMKjRag/s1600/purple_rainbow_by_stellarsophie-d383yl0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxmnbjv4YzoM8l6HiM6La-YUb8w68U5ZEBcP6E8PCZBpVQGFOTiePHJEKVf8RyVbzicNvZVaMTqoJxmKN7wJTkkaQ64DfaKdiHeOCpUe3FiXgwcuGfi2EdtdGY3fEtdfXuNd-YMTMKjRag/s1600/purple_rainbow_by_stellarsophie-d383yl0.jpg" /></a></div>
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Now, I can't speak for other kids - how they did or didn't cope. I can only speak for myself. I didn't cope well. </div>
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But I wasn't miserable, or even depressed. </div>
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Rather, I always felt like I was swaying in the wind, unsure what every new day meant, unsure how I would keep myself together - but always telling myself that tomorrow was a new day. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzJbJOKrbOS5AW1yhIbix9irzKeDa1s8PLGINpueH5zHXU3ln0FCc69LYFVoHpnExuOO8VF755ihnsBzgWFoiZY1xAUmy0QNwGKlutRHrb2GgMIkj_6aBee3KKycRfPF8jZw_97-dpIs04/s1600/tumblr_mgaa646asU1rgol3no1_500.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzJbJOKrbOS5AW1yhIbix9irzKeDa1s8PLGINpueH5zHXU3ln0FCc69LYFVoHpnExuOO8VF755ihnsBzgWFoiZY1xAUmy0QNwGKlutRHrb2GgMIkj_6aBee3KKycRfPF8jZw_97-dpIs04/s1600/tumblr_mgaa646asU1rgol3no1_500.png" /></a></div>
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The biggest part of that struggle to keep going was in trying to figure out what I was, what was going in my life. </div>
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As I've said before in other pieces, I knew that I saw myself as a girl - but I also knew that the rest of the world didn't see me that way, at least on the surface.</div>
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And this left me with what seemed like unanswerable questions about my life. What did it all mean about my future? What did it say about my identity? What kind of person was I, and what kind of person would I be in the future?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAwS59_1k7kOi66Mf1L59qttg3IX1s4GdLzqxO3g6TqwbGARWZcYSwKwXKpTjP7045RMUS1akj3mA-fzz55889v0NjBS1pAVHdX-A9ywjIXnzspIONpa5BFEIbujx8OS7rbvgQfoOuqke_/s1600/purple.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAwS59_1k7kOi66Mf1L59qttg3IX1s4GdLzqxO3g6TqwbGARWZcYSwKwXKpTjP7045RMUS1akj3mA-fzz55889v0NjBS1pAVHdX-A9ywjIXnzspIONpa5BFEIbujx8OS7rbvgQfoOuqke_/s1600/purple.jpg" /></a></div>
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I didn't have the answers - to any of those questions. And it hurt, not knowing. It hurt having no confidence in any kind of future, any kind of destiny. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKS-xZnq7CuKVW-jI36PgRtZLjAqDGfIfCaO_kJyLVmsw2Bt3Z0sLB4bIhgU246YeTsUbnbrWR8usTvVAoPxxu9PqLkLdWPb8uEJ3HJFpC-tJpVNd7X02UsnWeMas26FONpoLBWzrQSx2Q/s1600/JEM_Cartoon_Jason.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKS-xZnq7CuKVW-jI36PgRtZLjAqDGfIfCaO_kJyLVmsw2Bt3Z0sLB4bIhgU246YeTsUbnbrWR8usTvVAoPxxu9PqLkLdWPb8uEJ3HJFpC-tJpVNd7X02UsnWeMas26FONpoLBWzrQSx2Q/s1600/JEM_Cartoon_Jason.jpg" /></a></div>
It felt aimless, leaving me with a sense of being mentally and emotionally adrift - and I didn't like how that felt, at all.</div>
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And this is where <i>Jem</i> came into the picture.</div>
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I remember that I hadn't tuned in on my bedroom television specifically to watch Jem. Instead, I was simply switching channels back and forth between new shows, trying to decide which ones were worthy of my cereal-fueled attentions. </div>
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In the days before DV-Rs - heck, even before VCRs for my family - the first few weeks of episodes of a new season of cartoons on Saturday and Sunday morning had me switching channels every weekend to decide which shows would earn my affections.</div>
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<i>Jem</i> did that - almost instantly.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHndl7w74YtFyTGu9x5bnir389PpZeRCM_76tH7ejBGTO3Xhjf3DT_6-QqXzwqhrLH2gvP5RoQlvEdyCsTBFvcgnuimHcchlQ6nNJB_OhM8ZSTKnPZtlTKv0MNbHIfVmea-vzeUeS0gl09/s1600/jem.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHndl7w74YtFyTGu9x5bnir389PpZeRCM_76tH7ejBGTO3Xhjf3DT_6-QqXzwqhrLH2gvP5RoQlvEdyCsTBFvcgnuimHcchlQ6nNJB_OhM8ZSTKnPZtlTKv0MNbHIfVmea-vzeUeS0gl09/s1600/jem.jpg" /></a></div>
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And it was a fierce kind of affection, in the sense that <i>Jem</i> bridged a gap inside of my mind that nothing else had bridged.<br />
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Specifically, it bridged the gap between entertainment shows for kids that were targeted specifically toward girls and those that were targeted toward boys.<br />
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Here was a show that effortlessly backflipped through tropes and conventions, moving seamlessly from rugged adventure to romantic fantasy. The <a href="http://mtv.com/" target="_blank">MTV</a>-style editing didn't hurt, as characters could leap into myriad roles within the story-within-a-story music video structure.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOFO0hOdnmgH-373s_1A06lkTMwgzWoy6kRbaZ7bfc0V-bSiYNwQh4ZS2O9tIruVkJDFpev02mEEhPlYD4Bxbp8dAjqh4PaRIb1T9gBKOxz7ZDmxFVeggFvyWV13_pxPERG2pepjD6JuV8/s1600/Watch_the_Sun_Throw_Off_Its_Beam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOFO0hOdnmgH-373s_1A06lkTMwgzWoy6kRbaZ7bfc0V-bSiYNwQh4ZS2O9tIruVkJDFpev02mEEhPlYD4Bxbp8dAjqh4PaRIb1T9gBKOxz7ZDmxFVeggFvyWV13_pxPERG2pepjD6JuV8/s1600/Watch_the_Sun_Throw_Off_Its_Beam.jpg" /></a></div>
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Most "cartoon shows for girls" in that day were consistently talky and focused on tea parties.<br />
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Not <i>Jem</i>.<br />
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<i>Jem </i>wasn't afraid to bring action scenes and wanton destruction into a given week's adventure.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdkuMQaR2WhretVO9R7jIMJekpp4ZBtOKjNfZvt0xUOL-YSdCC2zGV0JrxMJZerDNQhKV-h_qHCUSbEn22YN8sVKbVr1YSBRd-W8YvNjxP_uXknZfoalXyrKyaZBY2fzkmUl3j4CQx4MWI/s1600/jem16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdkuMQaR2WhretVO9R7jIMJekpp4ZBtOKjNfZvt0xUOL-YSdCC2zGV0JrxMJZerDNQhKV-h_qHCUSbEn22YN8sVKbVr1YSBRd-W8YvNjxP_uXknZfoalXyrKyaZBY2fzkmUl3j4CQx4MWI/s1600/jem16.jpg" /></a></div>
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And that was comforting for 13-year-old me, in so many ways, because it was a safe outlet for feelings I felt like I had to keep bottled. <br />
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By blending adventure with romance, my time watching <i>Jem </i>felt like a safe space for me.<br />
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It felt like a space where I could relax and be myself, at a time in my life where I felt like that wasn't something I could afford to do.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhydsITMHsIjGCZtruGGuTEkfMFVwa_z70__Q-A-1_VAuyrcvDs1fuc7DvNtHBlnz9DaT9Yv89hm9qdDlFi805A5zcZqnMHVZourKY7iHduKeLX441PQGiqswAQDCEJoGbDjMhEWumhKLfJ/s1600/paperbag.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhydsITMHsIjGCZtruGGuTEkfMFVwa_z70__Q-A-1_VAuyrcvDs1fuc7DvNtHBlnz9DaT9Yv89hm9qdDlFi805A5zcZqnMHVZourKY7iHduKeLX441PQGiqswAQDCEJoGbDjMhEWumhKLfJ/s1600/paperbag.jpg" /></a></div>
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You see, by 1985 I'd given up on so much in order to survive adolescence. <br />
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In securing my own survival in what I understood was a hostile world, I'd abandoned a lot of elements of self-acceptance by then. I wore a mask - in metaphor - at school, at home ... and pretty much everywhere else. <br />
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And <i>Jem</i> let me take off that mask for 30 minutes a week.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQYaMhOnh7qtUuC2QT_gievIGKrigEfp2QXcWvqxtKoJZBItgsjzcVhj5KWSrupIuFDsGkjZ6-4D6fyT_J7wHtic6QArLMlnsrA4pgV7a7Ka7d4RMObZobzqPCtC-UW-WUulJeC3diFU14/s1600/jemos5tu7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQYaMhOnh7qtUuC2QT_gievIGKrigEfp2QXcWvqxtKoJZBItgsjzcVhj5KWSrupIuFDsGkjZ6-4D6fyT_J7wHtic6QArLMlnsrA4pgV7a7Ka7d4RMObZobzqPCtC-UW-WUulJeC3diFU14/s1600/jemos5tu7.jpg" /></a></div>
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When I watched Jem and the Holograms, I could forget about my own struggles with my identity for brief periods. <br />
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Here was a character, in fact, whose existence was based on leading a life with two identities, and I imagine that a lot of transgirls my age felt an intense kinship to that idea.<br />
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So many of us have endured that same sequence of events that I don't pretend my story here is unique. But I like to think I'm singing the tune in my own way, making it my own song.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIIf2YcQFvycbskv8-oUyreZarKNUZz5beKej6Q70oy_SYPkXHdnLQ21vSgI1c70Agu300hz4JIO8DXFXuiD3vwQ1qFFU8rfI31U0Mw3OnRcoU7agI5OEImCQo5fle0p_jbBzHUL0yJK6H/s1600/about_jem+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIIf2YcQFvycbskv8-oUyreZarKNUZz5beKej6Q70oy_SYPkXHdnLQ21vSgI1c70Agu300hz4JIO8DXFXuiD3vwQ1qFFU8rfI31U0Mw3OnRcoU7agI5OEImCQo5fle0p_jbBzHUL0yJK6H/s1600/about_jem+(1).jpg" /></a></div>
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And I've heard similar words from men who were kids at the time <i>Jem </i>originally aired, that the show gave them an excuse to indulge a different side to themselves, even without identifying trans. </div>
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They've told me about how they enjoyed the adventurous aspects of the series, but also found that they weren't turning away at the romantic elements. It helped them cross over to a different way of thinking and explore a different perspective.</div>
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And then there were the dolls.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSZVN-eQ6sggbdA0subgbB_8akaubDtBAcqtT_tnLs_B8HdHHyj1yXhqbH-u0csA-TWRcTArNEcPGTsSYnK8OP__as-FEzgvqWb0l_xmd3CSza0oArpmXiw3Zgv6nbuplHsBCNfZFwbrwK/s1600/1986Hasbro03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSZVN-eQ6sggbdA0subgbB_8akaubDtBAcqtT_tnLs_B8HdHHyj1yXhqbH-u0csA-TWRcTArNEcPGTsSYnK8OP__as-FEzgvqWb0l_xmd3CSza0oArpmXiw3Zgv6nbuplHsBCNfZFwbrwK/s1600/1986Hasbro03.jpg" /></a></div>
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Jem dolls were, as you can see, far more articulated than Barbie dolls of the day - and they wore rock star fashions and had rock star hair.</div>
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But this was only a part of what made them awesome. </div>
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What made them awesome was that they were so "out there" in their design that they didn't seem like Barbie dolls to my parents.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq2HkU1jeTJ3t7WLMuNSsNGbEJYgYXj-cDSsevVf17yZa5V6TE4BZXMlmtKjWOJbqsY_5x8hXtFxqCT2jL53tVnc2gesp5OnFXCXVsXeFDkMsCnqf0DhCunEafrFUShONQfSwMAYz6HiGk/s1600/1986Hasbro04.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq2HkU1jeTJ3t7WLMuNSsNGbEJYgYXj-cDSsevVf17yZa5V6TE4BZXMlmtKjWOJbqsY_5x8hXtFxqCT2jL53tVnc2gesp5OnFXCXVsXeFDkMsCnqf0DhCunEafrFUShONQfSwMAYz6HiGk/s1600/1986Hasbro04.jpg" /></a></div>
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In the MTV era in which these dolls existed, there was a clear distinction that could be observed between the "old-fashioned" universe of Barbie dolls and the rock'n'roll "punk lite" aesthetic of the <i>Jem</i> line.</div>
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Because of this, parents - not just mine, but many boys' parents - didn't see any problem or take any issue with giving the kids a Jem doll.</div>
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Now, you might be thinking a 13-year-old is too old for dolls, and you might be right. I don't care, because I've always loved toys and I always will.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_kMyS27hWTElrsWbz5KqDkBl1RLeK3r6poMYEGZdWl58Ru_Kx5iv3U0ofOew-QifBPOt6Necqd2yOthZRgZPoOXYYdOjhnWsan8ilkpiDuBnxEmmBN-fVJyZZ5a94h52C02r71xhaeUmu/s1600/1986Hasbro05.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_kMyS27hWTElrsWbz5KqDkBl1RLeK3r6poMYEGZdWl58Ru_Kx5iv3U0ofOew-QifBPOt6Necqd2yOthZRgZPoOXYYdOjhnWsan8ilkpiDuBnxEmmBN-fVJyZZ5a94h52C02r71xhaeUmu/s1600/1986Hasbro05.jpg" /></a></div>
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And my<i> Jem</i> dolls were a special treasure, because - like the show - they allowed me to slip into a framework where sex and gender didn't really matter so much - which was a welcome relief from the heavy weight of "hiding" my "secret" every day.</div>
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Jem's world, too, was a world of escape - glamor, glitter, fashion, fame ... all appealing to kids, even today.</div>
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And the toy line certainly promoted those core concepts. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiffI1e6Z-bXMTo26rZqfo0qxZtCNO_s98pASfOdIB-uvu3dlkLvAN7RYhenD73t-79v7137Uje_tyfeaBXoL4Oc4fzUYkJsMPK3QgsDOCXADnRWFCxT1jucMFsW_bh_1xBKcO8fGZRYgvt/s1600/tumblr_llyz3hcrju1qjlwi3o1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiffI1e6Z-bXMTo26rZqfo0qxZtCNO_s98pASfOdIB-uvu3dlkLvAN7RYhenD73t-79v7137Uje_tyfeaBXoL4Oc4fzUYkJsMPK3QgsDOCXADnRWFCxT1jucMFsW_bh_1xBKcO8fGZRYgvt/s1600/tumblr_llyz3hcrju1qjlwi3o1_500.jpg" /></a></div>
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I owned a Jem/Jerrica doll, the Roadster (which had a working radio, providing me an additional excuse to ask for it for Christmas), two of the Misfits (Pizzazz and Roxy) and a Synergy doll.</div>
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Rio never made it into my collection. I didn't like the sculpt on the doll, even though I liked Rio in the cartoon. </div>
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And there were other considerations as well. I mean, I did need to keep room on my Christmas list for <i>The Inhumanoids</i>. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8uYF4OFdmFwMpn1WIZLz2DBfNImYKzqTvk2u-zMSESEOec_3I0BS18XmSbkWAt6mTAT4bsY6w4Oo7MPgNCyKyimEd0AagArmCK3TDqyS81JNuCJg6w-I-YgoH1bSq05PqqVQ1dOuM4PN9/s1600/Inhumanoids_toys.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8uYF4OFdmFwMpn1WIZLz2DBfNImYKzqTvk2u-zMSESEOec_3I0BS18XmSbkWAt6mTAT4bsY6w4Oo7MPgNCyKyimEd0AagArmCK3TDqyS81JNuCJg6w-I-YgoH1bSq05PqqVQ1dOuM4PN9/s1600/Inhumanoids_toys.jpg" /></a></div>
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Girl or boy, trans or not - kids know that monsters are ALWAYS awesome.</div>
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They're also a good coping mechanism, when you're a transkid, because you so often feel like a monster, like someone who doesn't belong.</div>
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And <i>Jem</i> dealt with elements like that, as well.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQFqw8zUYSCD3KqIIxh-VkNtEzRN5ZM3CxqZU74ZuLXMZ4rGlslozMjiCHANbSoSW6VA7jfkRRK4kTMmiB8hcjgzjo7kJhYygV2AEA9NYd3bzE85vs6QVI25r8oruR-N6UGsWrOWz01v3a/s1600/1987Hasbro13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQFqw8zUYSCD3KqIIxh-VkNtEzRN5ZM3CxqZU74ZuLXMZ4rGlslozMjiCHANbSoSW6VA7jfkRRK4kTMmiB8hcjgzjo7kJhYygV2AEA9NYd3bzE85vs6QVI25r8oruR-N6UGsWrOWz01v3a/s1600/1987Hasbro13.jpg" /></a></div>
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I'm talking, of course, about the girls of the Starlight Foundation, featured in the bottom right of the picture just above this paragraph.</div>
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You see, Jem lived in a huge mansion that she won in a contest, and though it was the perfect home for a rock star like Jem, that's not what was important about it to her.</div>
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Jerrica thought differently than that, as a character - and that's what made her awesome.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYpC1a9jopCkMlicoU_NID0ymUkPMG8As1unFKgJQSr7XsOcf6oh-groCOxEBLrO2zeQ34CVdDh-qnErUiiMAJPRZNNFjgT1jscS0auhvf9wzMgk5D6BnGL0VcIkq9PD2CEZxkqwU0PJQ1/s1600/csmansion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYpC1a9jopCkMlicoU_NID0ymUkPMG8As1unFKgJQSr7XsOcf6oh-groCOxEBLrO2zeQ34CVdDh-qnErUiiMAJPRZNNFjgT1jscS0auhvf9wzMgk5D6BnGL0VcIkq9PD2CEZxkqwU0PJQ1/s1600/csmansion.jpg" /></a></div>
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Jem wasn't the type to simply content herself living the extravagant life of a rock star.</div>
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So the Starlight Mansion was also a home for runaways and orphans.</div>
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Jem, like so many characters who appealed to me as a young person, was someone who took in wayward people, who cared for them, who built her own family.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ1-oX2eY3b7Z-04jFwUueaF3HAKJkyiY9A6BewyKK6vLxHDDcgXBqkrWLx0FJGV0LCCTSb8Qp1xBrtb3Vw3HkX9yk75APK8s5m6e2pXNNA9nigAuGMTHIe_QqjXna4M0VHeMRpxDJBNVQ/s1600/d634.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ1-oX2eY3b7Z-04jFwUueaF3HAKJkyiY9A6BewyKK6vLxHDDcgXBqkrWLx0FJGV0LCCTSb8Qp1xBrtb3Vw3HkX9yk75APK8s5m6e2pXNNA9nigAuGMTHIe_QqjXna4M0VHeMRpxDJBNVQ/s1600/d634.jpg" /></a></div>
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These orphans and runaways were known as the Starlight Girls, and their presence was very significant to me.</div>
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I felt like they were sort of my proxy into Jem's world, which was - from a literary standpoint - probably the point of their existence in the series.</div>
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But seeing Jerrica treat them with care and understanding - despite their flaws and biases - meant a lot to me, because it helped me to keep up a belief that this fiction didn't necessarily mean such attitudes weren't also present in the real world.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixWPVH8xKyk-trD4269tvxTve8LaOWrODEDCqR2I3tfQWylv1IitHEMDX4g-GXy4Y2f78_cUJ4r5DZIL7whZy0JPjlbIqezdlSf5XVzCqlOUd0J8peUYYx2mrgKapN8ybAQHx_XYWu-po1/s1600/2mpe8so.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixWPVH8xKyk-trD4269tvxTve8LaOWrODEDCqR2I3tfQWylv1IitHEMDX4g-GXy4Y2f78_cUJ4r5DZIL7whZy0JPjlbIqezdlSf5XVzCqlOUd0J8peUYYx2mrgKapN8ybAQHx_XYWu-po1/s1600/2mpe8so.png" /></a></div>
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Seeing Jem treat the Starlight Girls work together for their mutual benefit was also important to me, because the bonds of friendship present amongst those characters were bonds I didn't have at that time in my real life.</div>
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I kept to myself, you see, for the most part. I hid from friendship. I shied away from closeness to other people. I felt like I had to, with my "secret." I felt like nobody could nor would understand me. <i>So what was the point</i>, I'd ask myself, <i>of making friends with people?</i></div>
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But for 30 minutes a week, watching Jem, I could see the power of friendship work its magic, and I could believe in that power again, however fleeting that belief would turn out to be once the show was over and I was backing to the real world - where I would've traded any glamor or glitter for friends like the Holograms or even frenemies like the Misfits.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZXPJ59PmoCV1C3olYv2e4qxV7ieXOI8HPNXXBuyF7E02b6OIrP09cxRladm7zeo1u-IAjzUEfHwDR1D0eiE8YsBKQPnIMcRFqK36-U-JnTPPdM8p6cqHV6qudkbvqroKHlkeJeg8hPjZ-/s1600/jem_cast.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZXPJ59PmoCV1C3olYv2e4qxV7ieXOI8HPNXXBuyF7E02b6OIrP09cxRladm7zeo1u-IAjzUEfHwDR1D0eiE8YsBKQPnIMcRFqK36-U-JnTPPdM8p6cqHV6qudkbvqroKHlkeJeg8hPjZ-/s1600/jem_cast.jpg" /></a></div>
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I was crushed by loneliness at that point in my life, so even dysfunctional relationships were preferable to being entirely by myself on an emotional level when it came to my peers.</div>
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I craved friendship and community.</div>
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That's another reason why I'm glad modern transkids have an ever-growing series of community resources available to them.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaz8OOkg6q7-H2NYjyMTHaoEUjD_nHOU_Jd4BaxK3krGGrwdNjE7VD-71461vtvTedVW7zoZHz4vxYRGp_t31JizTITl1iQB6mqO545IBfBo1onJfwZk0oJxKdhyATGTrZ8rhu4hzbf9dk/s1600/transyouth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaz8OOkg6q7-H2NYjyMTHaoEUjD_nHOU_Jd4BaxK3krGGrwdNjE7VD-71461vtvTedVW7zoZHz4vxYRGp_t31JizTITl1iQB6mqO545IBfBo1onJfwZk0oJxKdhyATGTrZ8rhu4hzbf9dk/s1600/transyouth.jpg" /></a></div>
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We grow and we change, and we evolve. </div>
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And evolution of people's perceptions has been a big part of my blog since I started writing it.</div>
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And Jem, too, has evolved. A doll that began like this - </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV6dMyszYK3zxl9ZT5QbNZf7NwnQrwKJV0_Nykx_4t8v4KQEOs4qxYUzXD04TUt3__FKj2WFX9_xVzCMOGAKzYf_w1j-3G8o4YzuEvPOFMXMktfyYE54uD1zBfAEer0BFYZeK8iN-C6CJT/s1600/1986Hasbro02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV6dMyszYK3zxl9ZT5QbNZf7NwnQrwKJV0_Nykx_4t8v4KQEOs4qxYUzXD04TUt3__FKj2WFX9_xVzCMOGAKzYf_w1j-3G8o4YzuEvPOFMXMktfyYE54uD1zBfAEer0BFYZeK8iN-C6CJT/s1600/1986Hasbro02.jpg" /></a></div>
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- has transformed both in appearance and price.</div>
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The glitter and glamor that once cost $8.00 for my mother and father now goes for $125.00.</div>
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Fashion and fame has gotten more pricey in the internet age, becoming this - </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFQiuSHqi94Aqwpt53zSIuUdsHz6C333k7EaRpTDWvShHzBPfWH-M472-zXSvakZwGX5KBa5ou6yS2ZhgRWxF1d2dUnboyPjcE6e0FLVCKYikA775pepLfTCwsNgLikygI8PYEhaa_Oghr/s1600/7457742162_379e045d3c_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFQiuSHqi94Aqwpt53zSIuUdsHz6C333k7EaRpTDWvShHzBPfWH-M472-zXSvakZwGX5KBa5ou6yS2ZhgRWxF1d2dUnboyPjcE6e0FLVCKYikA775pepLfTCwsNgLikygI8PYEhaa_Oghr/s1600/7457742162_379e045d3c_b.jpg" /></a></div>
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But I admit it - I've never wanted a doll more in my life. It's not in the cards at the moment for me. Maybe someday I'll be able to buy things like that, but not today. </div>
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When I publish a book, maybe, I'll have enough money to buy knick-knacks like dolls again. </div>
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Then, I'll have fame and will simply need to find the glamor and glitter and fashion.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCdhuZ0wyVRnGTdWlmkEUu3Y7RkIA3WbLncOFihhDecqlfkPCvg4NLsTamjiQ8zrB7KEuT9MGFNtxOmxV1c2-y8rTrig0VKzqd8YjVZbx5qWDMRQYnZCpgVrAoncIzfWrdA2rBC03eGPgw/s1600/boardgameff.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCdhuZ0wyVRnGTdWlmkEUu3Y7RkIA3WbLncOFihhDecqlfkPCvg4NLsTamjiQ8zrB7KEuT9MGFNtxOmxV1c2-y8rTrig0VKzqd8YjVZbx5qWDMRQYnZCpgVrAoncIzfWrdA2rBC03eGPgw/s1600/boardgameff.jpg" /></a></div>
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Sometimes, the journey of a trans person can, indeed, feel like one of those old board games where dice are rolled or spinners spun. The difference is that it's very difficult to play the game and follow the path on the board. </div>
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Directional arrows seem to point the wrong way, and the instructions don't seem to apply to the players the way they should. And even though you want to play a fashion game about rock star dolls, someone's telling you that you should want one with spaceships and rockets.</div>
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But characters like Jem can make that confusion go away - by making new rules and changing the game.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd_Yjz1CgycCjKoeCGnj3WNQ6VLpvzwHl124W-ssDJnqZ89zyBwFPKfkwTcMvdgGzHZujdO0G5dlRRxeO5oeuX6AAiINhWhEFM36c6VP7nj29kR1rkjnnKU3urBgvHS3q0iD4H4pIYuY_9/s1600/2012oct_synergyjerricaJem.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd_Yjz1CgycCjKoeCGnj3WNQ6VLpvzwHl124W-ssDJnqZ89zyBwFPKfkwTcMvdgGzHZujdO0G5dlRRxeO5oeuX6AAiINhWhEFM36c6VP7nj29kR1rkjnnKU3urBgvHS3q0iD4H4pIYuY_9/s1600/2012oct_synergyjerricaJem.jpg" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://integritytoys.com/" target="_blank">Integrity Toys</a> has resurrected Jem - and all her friends and frenemies. The whole collection would run a person about $2,000.00 - and I think that's unfortunate.</div>
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It's unfortunate because they're targeting the adult collector market, and the toys aren't really meant to be played with by kids. And I think that's a shame.</div>
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It's a shame because of what an amazing character Jem is, and what an evolutionary leap she was when she first appeared - and what a benefit she can be to younger people who might need that kind of inspiration today.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEHRD7vpwESG8VxFe5BYVCYCFZkxnriAGqgD21XIxhOXb5hsI4nFwJB5jVQ-IyT3OpIGChkHBWUyO31JS9psKHJp6uOX0sE8OCVxalr-BvJ5k0OqKV6iihM84duyhyphenhyphenCHYHetBWneDvbr3R/s1600/8306068856_6edaea90df_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEHRD7vpwESG8VxFe5BYVCYCFZkxnriAGqgD21XIxhOXb5hsI4nFwJB5jVQ-IyT3OpIGChkHBWUyO31JS9psKHJp6uOX0sE8OCVxalr-BvJ5k0OqKV6iihM84duyhyphenhyphenCHYHetBWneDvbr3R/s1600/8306068856_6edaea90df_b.jpg" /></a></div>
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Jem is a character who is even more relevant now than she was when she first appeared, despite her 1980s sensibilities and fashions.</div>
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She's relevant because of our modern notions of celebrity, where people who are "nobody" in the "real world" use electronics to become someone they're not. Holograms and videos, deception and the blurring of the lines about what's real and what's fiction - those are part of reality now.</div>
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It's rather startling how much <i>Jem</i> predicted about what musical celebrities would become.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr5ROTw0KWKfOCle5z8x-jwfCg6fPdumX-FWeBl_Qm_S9rlsmy0AHZI-2fkk6jJ3efgo65dssMeSF5Av79j-3eRcEPVsWHbT_RIF1bIt-zApNErHQfBPNc3zJhyOv24mKRcIweE9fdEpt0/s1600/tupac.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr5ROTw0KWKfOCle5z8x-jwfCg6fPdumX-FWeBl_Qm_S9rlsmy0AHZI-2fkk6jJ3efgo65dssMeSF5Av79j-3eRcEPVsWHbT_RIF1bIt-zApNErHQfBPNc3zJhyOv24mKRcIweE9fdEpt0/s1600/tupac.jpg" /></a></div>
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Is it so hard to believe that we're on the cusp of seeing regular appearances by virtual performers like the one on the right in the above picture?</div>
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Is it so hard to believe that humans and computers will create half-real/half-virtual rock stars like we saw in Jem?</div>
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Are we really that close to that kind of ... synergy?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnM6Oq4x1KRjwvSqXbWbgWDGJgwNlCb_nhDIS2VhjNjnKROASgFBSl4TXT9OCN5_DWRXtywqrQpu_b7qdpR3ccz3YnPxrB7Gp3NxujhZEeJH5mw7EWBvGCroFJlqvYaf_aX2sEZhpHm0YK/s1600/img-synergy-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnM6Oq4x1KRjwvSqXbWbgWDGJgwNlCb_nhDIS2VhjNjnKROASgFBSl4TXT9OCN5_DWRXtywqrQpu_b7qdpR3ccz3YnPxrB7Gp3NxujhZEeJH5mw7EWBvGCroFJlqvYaf_aX2sEZhpHm0YK/s1600/img-synergy-2.jpg" /></a></div>
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I think we might be. And when we get to that point, will our ideas of gender and sex be challenged, too? </div>
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Will we have to accept that the person we see is the person as they, themselves, wish to be seen?</div>
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Will we trust our perceptions, or will we doubt the identity of everyone we see because they don't match our own way of thinking?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGzVLLycfvzuoP4YjIE89xcRphXRrrZaJl_AewqeZFuH_s3WjDsPFtNT2re6ZZsRWbg-NiHQ5S1vOTN3t_E7KiNLTRLLn4r-aDAQ9-kzRsq2BSJ4Tmt7IZNxL8TGZlrLZz-Nl6_fS0nObM/s1600/img-classic-jem-2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGzVLLycfvzuoP4YjIE89xcRphXRrrZaJl_AewqeZFuH_s3WjDsPFtNT2re6ZZsRWbg-NiHQ5S1vOTN3t_E7KiNLTRLLn4r-aDAQ9-kzRsq2BSJ4Tmt7IZNxL8TGZlrLZz-Nl6_fS0nObM/s1600/img-classic-jem-2.png" /></a></div>
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Jem is a character who reminds us of the artificiality of celebrity, but also reminds us that the power of wealth and fame could be used to a positive effect in the world if people only stopped and took the time to care.</div>
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Jem, as a character, isn't defined by her fame - throughout the series, Jerrica references Jem as an illusion, a non-existent person. It's not some separate person from herself; it's a disguise, and nothing more.</div>
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But that doesn't change who Jerrica is.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqzNOOMHBGf7W9VkpbGg9hJWCJlRSylc8K6FQTMNAkjcx7ACW-x7F6i6PaFQEBjhP7qpUkEqdG0stU_9IZ_RFzVVY4I8LSR3G2WUTcMTyEB5yqgfJnbV6S1LCXHAtWOKLD4T4A7dSXuQ8J/s1600/img-jerrica-benton-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqzNOOMHBGf7W9VkpbGg9hJWCJlRSylc8K6FQTMNAkjcx7ACW-x7F6i6PaFQEBjhP7qpUkEqdG0stU_9IZ_RFzVVY4I8LSR3G2WUTcMTyEB5yqgfJnbV6S1LCXHAtWOKLD4T4A7dSXuQ8J/s1600/img-jerrica-benton-2.jpg" /></a></div>
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At the core, Jerrica is a kind and loving person, someone who loves to entertain because of the reward of making the music and being part of that creative experience. She loves to sing because singing is in her heart. She doesn't compromise her integrity - and that integrity is core throughout the series.</div>
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And in a world as illusionary as Hollywood and the music industry, Jerrica is a markedly different representation of a celebrity from the modern music artist or famous celebrity - where so many of them are obsessed only with increasing their own fame. For Jerrica, Jem's fame is simply a necessity - a means through which she can gain the wealth she needs to help others and to continue to create the music she loves.</div>
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What better lesson about the false illusions of the modern celebrity culture could kids have than to use their skills to help the world around them as well as themselves? What more important lesson about the nature of fame could there be in a celebrity-obsessed world than to tell kids that celebrity isn't an end but a means to achieve one's true dreams? What more important statement is there in our wealth-over-everything American culture than to tell people that wealth is meaningless by itself and the trappings of wealth might as well be illusions - projections?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDY3FIDkxjbvGCcLjYNAS8eGqnWwFNLxLQnq7v4u9R-jT0a26ymKejrBc0vQyra8YTAyOfIgl1SBvgvO74np8whdX9qNQ_bJOaK4GSA8o0lMDSJa-p_ZOmFuolqd9vA9hrfP3Nwo_HqT7M/s1600/hasbro-jem-and-the-holograms-glitter-n-gold-comic-con-2013-sdcc-exclusives.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDY3FIDkxjbvGCcLjYNAS8eGqnWwFNLxLQnq7v4u9R-jT0a26ymKejrBc0vQyra8YTAyOfIgl1SBvgvO74np8whdX9qNQ_bJOaK4GSA8o0lMDSJa-p_ZOmFuolqd9vA9hrfP3Nwo_HqT7M/s1600/hasbro-jem-and-the-holograms-glitter-n-gold-comic-con-2013-sdcc-exclusives.jpg" /></a></div>
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Yeah, I want those dolls. It's normal to want things. It's not, in my opinion, a crime. But the dolls weren't - and aren't - the important part of Jem to me. </div>
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The vehicles and doll fashions and playsets don't matter.</div>
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The merchandising doesn't matter, no matter how awesome it is.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoGSUcx00kai9cf0uhQHq3eTmWyqWiEBVWNX-a4uDkXTLPZoKdN-mS4bCu79HzVKwyKVD1wH6mNp4hTS0nw9LEd5uEfbMzpsmZrsESYRvU25yviB-g8DUCoGmRaOer9fLLf8eUi_Szzscz/s1600/il_fullxfull.416027460_6pif.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoGSUcx00kai9cf0uhQHq3eTmWyqWiEBVWNX-a4uDkXTLPZoKdN-mS4bCu79HzVKwyKVD1wH6mNp4hTS0nw9LEd5uEfbMzpsmZrsESYRvU25yviB-g8DUCoGmRaOer9fLLf8eUi_Szzscz/s1600/il_fullxfull.416027460_6pif.jpg" /></a></div>
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What matters to me are the lessons taught to me by the show in that vulnerable time in my life, when a young woman faced off against evil corporate executives and musical rivals and stood true to herself and to her voice, even though she had to wear a disguise to get the job done.</div>
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What matters to me are the adventurous stories of women who could be friends and have distinct lives and distinct personalities - all working together for each other's betterment, and to protect people from evil.</div>
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What matters to me is that in 1985 I became a Jem Girl - and I'll always be one. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitu2s6Qa9nC_R98AgK3Qd_6kZ4FYREy505QjMLrDgysNMBUQ_062rlgv7-fl0Of4XAhBrU0uOOgHiZTMaHPhZsw2ZuRRPc4wYYZaEgwQLuzHtO3I2HMteRhyphenhyphenq2aM1njgG6C5SLrPQqTFt7/s1600/jem_autograph_poster_by_jemallman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitu2s6Qa9nC_R98AgK3Qd_6kZ4FYREy505QjMLrDgysNMBUQ_062rlgv7-fl0Of4XAhBrU0uOOgHiZTMaHPhZsw2ZuRRPc4wYYZaEgwQLuzHtO3I2HMteRhyphenhyphenq2aM1njgG6C5SLrPQqTFt7/s1600/jem_autograph_poster_by_jemallman.jpg" /></a></div>
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Dee Emm Elmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14053652749413575579noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1555007489284044452.post-92096220731784144312013-06-11T12:35:00.001-07:002014-01-14T18:11:35.801-08:00"... for me, there are no such things as limits." - (Ororo Munroe, aka Storm)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOVKejLIi9nT2ue3wMM35y5bfpTRH-rKIjAa8hA5kJLyD4lR62h0dtF9gr1JqgRB5ZOZ6_DO46v9jo4bnwAEm1oz5aWD3vKphFeY68UMM-ZjYsYX6TenbSFoDlm8orDNblJv67JKaB_m-T/s1600/Storm_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOVKejLIi9nT2ue3wMM35y5bfpTRH-rKIjAa8hA5kJLyD4lR62h0dtF9gr1JqgRB5ZOZ6_DO46v9jo4bnwAEm1oz5aWD3vKphFeY68UMM-ZjYsYX6TenbSFoDlm8orDNblJv67JKaB_m-T/s640/Storm_small.jpg" width="535" /></a></div>
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Hard as it is for me to believe, this is my 25th piece for this blog. When I realized that fact, it got me to thinking - and asking myself some questions. Have I really written that much since this idea came into my head? Did I have that much to say when I started? Do I still have more to say?</div>
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The answer to all of those questions is yes. And what's most refreshing to me is how quickly those answers came to mind when I asked myself those questions. I didn't have to sit and think. I didn't have to contemplate or wonder. I knew. There was no need for contemplation. </div>
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There was only a deep sense of peace, and from out of that peace came those answers.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGYIGnxHWi4qrNs7Yt0ILpFZ2ExSJWMGQxZ1MyYKKDrRDghQmEBDXbv7iJDe_FYqYvK-DHTEs6oe03mlwFu_EL9Ef0kn6DU473p1I9wqJbQq9aiGq1SXrrmglCVPaK_i4g3UDdWw3MoJvA/s1600/Storm-marvel-superheroines-10049984-968-640.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGYIGnxHWi4qrNs7Yt0ILpFZ2ExSJWMGQxZ1MyYKKDrRDghQmEBDXbv7iJDe_FYqYvK-DHTEs6oe03mlwFu_EL9Ef0kn6DU473p1I9wqJbQq9aiGq1SXrrmglCVPaK_i4g3UDdWw3MoJvA/s1600/Storm-marvel-superheroines-10049984-968-640.jpg" /></a></div>
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With that awareness came also a realization. It was a realization about where the peace had come from in my life, how it had come to be. </div>
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Certainly, the peace is in no small part because of my 2013 commitment to self-improvement: I'd committed at the start of the year to losing weight, improving the state of my health, taking stock of the attitudes with which I view the world. </div>
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Self-care became a priority again for the first time in a long while. I took big steps toward fixing some long-standing health issues by finally having a necessary surgery that I'd been frightened to undertake. I even treated myself to getting my first-ever manicure.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT50iiXwuCfsRMZJxK_4ccn0QwO6O1Ns9RAhyphenhyphen2zV6e9ksqS2a3B_lyPmFHb6OyPKPifh-yKRk762fBdE194UE2k9iqnW3eMNl0C8qJJKtx4YwhNVvK14LsPc6vUlBWwJsmOx9DiZw8gWnn/s1600/manicure.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT50iiXwuCfsRMZJxK_4ccn0QwO6O1Ns9RAhyphenhyphen2zV6e9ksqS2a3B_lyPmFHb6OyPKPifh-yKRk762fBdE194UE2k9iqnW3eMNl0C8qJJKtx4YwhNVvK14LsPc6vUlBWwJsmOx9DiZw8gWnn/s1600/manicure.jpg" /></a></div>
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But as good as the manicure looked, it was how it made me feel that made the bigger difference. It might seem silly to some for me to take such joy in something so simple, but I did. It felt like a new expression of my personal freedom, however insignificant, and that mattered to me. <br />
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In fact, that's the key to where this feeling of peace inside of me has come from; it's what 2013 has been about to me, expressed time and time again through the whole of this blog. Put simply, this blog and this year have both been about my refusal to be confined - and my refusal to accept limits, even when they're my own.<br />
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And that is why I decided to write my 25th piece about Ororo Monroe, the hero known as Storm.<br />
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Storm is well-known enough as a character that I don't feel she needs an introduction. She's been a part of so many different <i>X-MEN </i>comic book titles. She's been on television and in movies. I can't imagine people out there don't know her origins. <br />
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But what I wonder is how many people are familiar with Storm as a hero who has repeatedly managed to overcome a single desperate, crippling fear.<br />
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I talk, of course, about Storm's claustrophobia.<br />
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Now, of coure, the image above - taken from a trading card - contains just a mini-biography of the character. And, in the Storm's many interpretations, she has been shown to suffer from claustrophobia, and then overcome it completely, and then suffer from it again, and on and on in the never-ending cycle of change that is the hallmark of serialized fiction.<br />
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But serialized fiction's tendency to sensationalize real-life health issues and then do away with them when convenient - all for the sake of drama - isn't the point of this piece.<br />
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The point of this piece is what that claustrophobia means to me.<br />
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As anyone who's read my <a href="http://fourcolorprincesses.blogspot.com/2013/01/hell-yeah-dazzler.html" target="_blank">Dazzler</a> piece knows, Alison Blaire was my first favorite mutant hero. She was all sparkle and shine, glitz and glitter, power and light. She inspired me to be loud and proud at a time when I often felt small and intimidated; she also appealed perfectly to my sensibilities in 1980, when I was eight - and when everything in my life had to be big and bright and sassy. <br />
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It's funny how much can change in a year, even as you realize how much stays the same.<br />
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A quick leap forward in time - to July, 1981 - finds me an extremely awkward nine-year-old. The sparkle was gone. The confidence had dwindled. It's not something of which I'm proud, but it's the truth. It's who I was at that time - a sad, lonely kid who didn't like to go outside.<br />
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So, what changed? <br />
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Crushes - two of them, in fact, all painful and all emotionally draining to overcome.<br />
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But I overcame them.<br />
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And through that time, as sad as it is to say, I had my comic books. I read them and re-read them. I know it was wrong to isolate myself, but that's how my life went at that time. I'd been hurt, to my way of thinking, by my exposure to other people, and impossible loves that had absolutely no chance. As a nine-year-old, I certainly wasn't sophisticated about the way I handled relationships.<br />
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So isolation seemed like the "answer." I reasoned that if I stayed far away form people, I wouldn't be hurt by them. <br />
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I cut myself off from others, and I became something of a little punk.<br />
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Okay, I was nine - I wasn't <i>that </i>much of a punk. But I evolved from a fabulous little kid into a surly tween over that year, and embraced a rather negative attitude about people that wasn't lost on those who once called myself their friends. <br />
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I felt like an outsider everywhere I went, and felt like I belonged absolutely nowhere. And, during this period, I found myself gravitating toward <i>Uncanny X-Men </i>as my favorite comic. I identified with the outsider status of the characters, with the way they were misunderstood and hated by he "normal" people in the world. Where, before, I had identified with the delightful Dazzler, now the sullen mutants of Westchester Mansion.<br />
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Now, that July is important to me because it marked the publication of a comic that spoke to me more profoundly than many had prior to that point in my life. Specifically, it was <i>Uncanny X-Men</i> #147.<br />
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In the story, Doctor Doom imprisons Storm in a way that turns her into a living statue. Her claustrophobia brings her to the brink of madness. <br />
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Of course, Doom is eventually convinced to release Ororo.<br />
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But Ororo's claustrophobia and rage have left her dramatically changed.<br />
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This story isn't the best, by any means, if viewed through the critical eye of an adult. It's basically a retread of the just-completed Dark Phoenix storyline condensed into a few pages.<br />
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Innovation and risk-taking are also not exactly hallmarks of serialized storytelling.<br />
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The upshot of the tale is that Colossus reminds Ororo about what just happened to Jean a few issues ago.<br />
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Storm basically then says "Yeah, you're right" and then puts herself back together again. The day is saved, and we can all be grateful that Scott Summers wasn't involved with trying to rescue her, or we'd have lost the character a few pages after that.<br />
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But the story's plot breakdown, that's not why it had such an impact on me. <br />
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It impacted me because I saw myself in it.<br />
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<br />Here was Ororo Munroe, who had in the time I was reading these books dedicated herself more outspokenly than any of Xavier's students to the Professor's principles of peaceful co-existence with others, declaring herself superior - declaring herself a goddess.<br />
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While I can certainly identify with the fantasy of being a goddess, what struck me about this was what caused this fundamental change, through the lens of Ororo's claustrophobia as a plot device. It was a disconnect between Ororo and the world around her. It was the way Doom's actions cut her off from any contact with the world, any sensation. She had been turned into a statue, and through this situation she was - for a brief time - totally isolated from everyone and everything. And far from making her stronger, it turned her into someone else, however briefly - someone cold and sinister and power-mad. <br />
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She had become untouchable, like a statue.<br />
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Realization hit me like a pile of bricks. I was doing the same thing in my own life, only I was doing it to myself.<br />
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I was reacting out of fear - cutting myself off from other people for the sake of feeling no pain. It hurt to realize in that sudden, lurching moment how much I'd isolated myself - on-purpose no less - from former friends, from family, from anyone and everyone.<br />
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I clearly remember crying for a while, lying on my stomach on my bed, the comic book I'd just read open in front of me, an open and emptied Snickers bar wrapper off to the upper right. Yeah, I ate chocolate while reading comic books. I told you I've never collected them for value.<br />
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But I nevertheless realized that even though Storm's story was a fiction, crafted as a product to entertain, it could still hold truth in my own life. <br />
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What I had come to love about Storm over the years of reading her adventures was that she was so committed to Xavier's ideals that she incorporated them into her thought process, and she agonized over violence despite having to be a part of it so often as part of the X-Men. I loved her kindness and benevolence, her refusal to kill no matter how appropriate it seemed. These ideals resonated with me, even if they were the product of false drama.<br />
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I loved, too, perhaps oddly to some, her appreciation of the weather she controlled, because that resonated very strongly with me. Maybe it's part of my upbringing, but I love all kinds of different weather - I'm not a sunshine kid. I love storms, and rain. I love vast clouds rolling overhead to give the world that particular overcast look. I love watching lightning explode in the distance.<br />
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Storm, written the way I like her best, basks not in the glory of having her power, but in what it creates. She isn't some mad artist trying to shape the world. She can control the weather, yes, but she loves what she creates. <br />
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But there's a deeper metapor there that struck me as a kid, and stayed with me: that we can learn to take joy in our situation, even if it's only for a fleeting moment surrounded by sorrow. <br />
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We can laugh in the rain. We aren't victims to our circumstances. Just because there's a hurricane around us doesn't mean we can't find peace in the eye of it, or find truth and beauty in that difficult situation. We can learn to walk through the metaphorical lightning of our daily life and be strong by absorbing the energies around us and controlling them, or by letting them pass through us without destroying us. <br />
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That's what I learned most from Storm - watching her maintain her quietude and sense of inner peace even in the turmoil that surrounded her. <br />
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She is - when written to her best, in my opinion - a testament to human endurance and the capacity to adapt and evolve without compromising your true identity. <br />
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Storm, herself, of course, has certainly evolved throughout the years.<br />
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But through all those different looks, and all those different creative teams reinterpreting the character, that grace emerges again and again. It's as if not even the worst writers and artists can siphon that graceful energy from the character entirely. She endures, and comes back into focus over and over again - whether she's a temporary Goddess of Thunder or a mohawked vampire, or whatever they've come up with for the Next Big Comics Event.<br />
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But none of that matters to me, because when I see her, I still see the same Storm who meant so much to me when I was little. <br />
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I see the Storm who got me out of my room on a tough day in July, got me to walk outside - willingly - after I'd shut myself off from everything, so I could be a part of the air and the earth again.<br />
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I see the Storm who was struck by the lightning bolts of the world, and who refused to be brought down by them, who channeled that energy.<br />
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Because that lightning didn't have to be a force that would destroy her, if she used it - if she harnessed it - if she controlled it and turned it into poetry with the power of her innate abilities.<br />
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Which is precisely what Storm does.<br />
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I see the powerful woman who maintains her dignity and pride even in the worst of circumstances, but who isn't bound to those characteristics to the point where they become self-destructive. <br />
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Because a confident woman can think for herself, and decide things for herself - can decide when it's time to adhere to beliefs and when they need to be adapted to the situation at hand.<br />
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Because sometimes, even grace and peace need to give way in the name of doing what's right and opposing what's wrong.<br />
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Most of all, though, I see elements of myself. I see myself in Storm - but what I see are bold representations of the heroism that I want to achieve in my life, the standard of bearing I wish to have in my own daily existence.<br />
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I may not achieve that goal on any given day. I may falter. But the nature of having a strong sense of self-confidence is that you don't let those bolts of lightning hurt you, either. You don't let the winds sweep you away. You don't let yourself be contained or imprisoned, whether the nature of that prison comes from outside circumstances or your own self-doubts.<br />
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You break free of that prison, and when you do ... you bring the thunder.<br />
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You fight when you need to fight. But then you can go up to the attic and take care of your plants. And that's another element of Storm that's important to me, one that I fear has been lost on many writers, that she doesn't seek out the fight. So many of the X-Men characters seemed contradictory to me in their handling of violence and aggression. Characters like Wolverine purport to seek a peaceful life, but in a given story they'd most likely be found tearing robots apart in the Danger Room. Storm trained, of course, but when the fight was over she sought the solace of quiet contemplation - and that was clearly the life she preferred.<br />
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At the same time, she was not afraid to leave that calming space when called upon to do the right thing by way of others. Her capacity to know when to meditate and when to fight affected me, helped me shape how I think, myself, when I have to decide on what battles I want to fight. <br />
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But when we do fight, we bring it.<br />
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Stan Lee has said that Storm is his least-favorite Marvel character, because her powers don't make sense. Controlling the weather is, apparently, silly to him. <br />
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But what I think Stan might miss about Storm as a character is that I've never thought of her power as simply controlling the weather. I see her as a sort of a conduit for energies - positive, negative, elemental.<br />
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She takes in the energy of the world around her and then <i>decides</i> what form it ought to take, like a gardner decides on an order for her small part of the natural world. She doesn't force the garden to grow, but she nurtures those parts of it that lead to a desired result - the world as she wishes it to be in that small part. Storm decides whether her small part of the world will be calm or quiet, or a wind-battered landscape in the heart of a maelstrom.<br />
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I think we all need to realize that we have that same power with the events of our own lives. We might not be able to decide on the energies that come to us, but we can be gardeners in our own way, tending our own lives. <br />
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We can't completely control what will grow or fade away, what will ultimately live or die, but we can try to harness those energies.<br />
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And we can ty to shape them in our small part of the world, into something we desire in ourselves or in our environment.<br />
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Storm's grandeur, to me, isn't about her incredible raw power, but is instead about discipline and patience and sensitivity. Those are the traits that have led her to be successful as a leader of her team of X-Men - not simply her power.<br />
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And having those traits means not running away from other people, no matter how much you might crave an escape from pain, or the quiet of solitude. When you're running away, it's a retreat. <br />
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Storm doesn't retreat.<br />
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And, yes, Storm wields a ridiculous amount of power, but it's her life outside of those super-heroic adventures that give her the strength of character to know how and when best to use it, just as a gardener's life outside the garden shapes how the gardener views the world, which in turn helps the gardener decide how to shape the garden.<br />
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Storm's power isn't expressed by her screaming like the Hulk about how she's the strongest one there is.<br />
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It's about the care, measurement and restraint. She tells the world that she's powerful when it's necessary. But she understands that the power and control come from inside of her, and that she ultimately decides when and how that power gets used.<br />
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Storm also inspires me with her stalwart dedication to her friends, to those she recognizes as having a place in her world. I've always preferred her when she's written as having an open and welcoming nature, versus the coldly-disinterested Storm of the 1990s - though, to be fair, most every super-hero in the 1990s was coldly-disinterested in anything but gritting their teeth and punching people so hard their fists went through the opponent's entire head.<br />
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But the best portrayals of Storm - to me - have been the ones where she has put her friends first in her life, put love before angst and duty before vendetta. <br />
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That's the Storm I love, the one who won't abandon her friends no matter what, who will brave the night, will fly fast and true to rescue someone from danger.<br />
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So many reasons exist for my love of Ororo Munroe, and so many elements of her character make me glad to have shared in her many adventures over the years - because they've inspired me and helped me become the person I am today. <br />
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Some of those reasons are profound, those personal character traits that elevate the positive traits of the human spirit.<br />
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Some, I've successfully incorporated into myself. Others, not so much. I've never had the courage to rock a mohawk. Maybe I'll change that, someday, if the time and situation prove right. I've always wanted to.<br />
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As I write this, there's a new all-female team in an <i>X-Men</i> comic book featuring that mohawked version of Storm as, I think, its leader, if the art is to be judged like that. <br />
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I'm hopeful we get the Storm I have described here in that book. I'm hopeful we get the Storm who might inspire little girls to be brave and strong, to measure the power within themselves and use it to shape the world instead of being brought down because of it. I'm hoping we get the Storm who has claustrophobia, but never lets it defeat her. I'm hoping we get the Storm who is true to her friends, is open to the people around her - but who isn't afraid to seek quiet contemplation when needed instead of surrendering to angst.<br />
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I'm also kind of hoping we get the Storm who has plants in the attic. <br />
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Because it's the Storm who maintains her garden that seems to most-often carry the traits I have praised here. It's not the grim-and-gritty Storm who sneers at Morlocks and gets into three-issue knife-fights that is inspiring. That's pointless, plot-driven "strength." There's no truth in that, no connection to real human experiences. Because that's the Storm that inspires. Because, at her best, Storm tells all the little girls crying on their beds that they may feel like they've been caught in the middle of the rain and the lightning in their lives, but that every experience in life is to be taken for what it is - energy, to be brought into one's heart, to do with as one wishes; that, in real life, we may not be able to control the rain, but we can take joy in the fact that we're alive to experience it, can feel the water run through our fingertips knowing that we can't catch it, but we can gain from being here to experience it.</div>
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When we learn that, we learn just how much we can achieve in the world.</div>
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When we learn that, we learn that there are no such things as limits.</div>
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Dee Emm Elmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14053652749413575579noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1555007489284044452.post-88544233873518730072013-05-26T10:14:00.003-07:002014-01-14T18:12:01.009-08:00"The moment you pick up a sword you become a target." (Xena)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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"<i>Her courage would change the world.</i>"</div>
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It's a big claim about a person, isn't it? I remember when I first heard the phrase: it was 1995. It was, according to Wikipedia, September 4th, and I was agonizing over the impending commencement of another year of college - my fifth year, to be exact. So, yeah, I'm basically confessing that I was one of <i>those</i> kinds of college kids. <br />
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You can tell, if you know me - mostly because you know I'm neither a doctor or a lawyer today.</div>
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So, yes - it's true that I'm not out there surgically saving lives every day or asking the tough questions over a pile of legal briefs. But that doesn't mean I don't help people whenever I'm able to do so; don't underestimate me. <br />
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And yes, it's true that I graduated from college with a degree in English. But that doesn't mean I'm incapable of changing the world; far from it, in fact.<br />
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I think everyone's capable of changing the world, but each of us has our own process. And my process to change the world is through the act of inspiration - or, at the very least, that's what I hope I'm achieving with these pieces. Whether it affects the planet positively or not, I can't say. But that doesn't stop me from shouting "Go, planet!" and trying anyway. But, there's more to my process than that. <br />
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<br />That process may not be as obvious to people as I might think. As my blog continues to grow in readership - <i><b><u>thank you!</u></b></i> - I find myself getting a lot more emails. Along with the spam, grody pick-up emails and the less-occasional-than-I'd-like death threat, I get questions about how and why I do what I do. And one of the questions I've gotten most often is a variation of this question: "Do you come up with the hero first? Or do you select a virtue and then think of a hero who fits that?"<br />
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The answer is easy, and I would've thought obvious: I choose the virtue first. I look at the world around me and think about what matters to me when I start writing, what's important to me at that moment, what's on my mind. I think about where I see problems in the world and how I think people should deal with those problems. Once I know what aspect of real life I want to write about, that informs the hero in my life who best exemplifies that trait. To think of the heroes first simply doesn't make sense to me; if I chose that route, I'd be concentrating on the fiction - and the fiction is the least important part of the equation. <br />
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Real life is, and should always be, everyone's priority.<br />
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And it's an uncomfortable and pressing awareness of that battle between living in real life and living in fantasy that led me to my thoughts on the purpose of this piece: asking the very real question about what you have to do to find the strength to change the real world. <br />
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But along with that comes the other half of the equation: the role fantasy can play in being helpful toward achieving that strength. <br />
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Obviously, if I didn't think fantasy served any purpose at all in my life, it wouldn't be part of what I do and who I am. And if I didn't think that these fictional heroes can help us in our real lives, I wouldn't write an essay about how I'm inspired by Xena, Warrior Princess.<br />
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So, at this point, the question might be asked: "Dee, what's been on your mind that makes you think of all this need to <i>change the world</i> in the first place?" <br />
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Believe it or not, it's because of <a href="http://facebook.com/" target="_blank">Facebook</a>. More specifically, it's because of the <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/soraya-chemaly/an-open-letter-to-faceboo_1_b_3307394.html" target="_blank">open letter</a> that appeared recently on the website <a href="http://huffingtonpost.com/" target="_blank">The Huffington Post</a> calling on Facebook to change the way that Facebook handles incidents of imagery thought to promote violence against women. <br />
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What kind of imagery does this refer to? I'm not going to promote the pictures by reposting them here. If you really want to find these trashy posts, you can go looking for them on Facebook or elsewhere. But that's not how I fight. I fight by not giving this material a venue on my blog, which is my battleground. It's where I make my stand every time I write - because, as I've said before, writing takes courage.<br />
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But that's not the only way to fight, and there may be disagreements about which way is most effective. The <a href="http://www.everydaysexism.com/" target="_blank">Everyday Sexism Project</a> is a big part of the Facebook petition, and they fight by raising awareness of negative portrayals of women on Facebook. <a href="http://www.womenactionmedia.org/" target="_blank">Women, Action, & the Media</a> is a group that works for positive portrayals of women and against sexism in media.<br />
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I urge you to check out those links, and inform yourself if you're unaware of these issues. At the same time, I likewise urge you to do more than simply read webpages. I urge you to do something about it, whatever that might be. If it means boycotting the products of advertisers who support Facebook's current policies, go for it. If it means calling those advertisers on the phone, great. And if it means writing about yourself and your own life in a blog to try to show people how you fight back, that's awesome. We all have our own ways of fighting against injustice.<br />
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But here's the take-away from that: <b><u>fight back</u></b>.<br />
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And that conflict between doing something and nothing is where I made the conncetion to Xena, and is the reason I decided to write about her.<br />
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Have you ever seen or heard a woman acting on some kind of outrage and fighting back? I'd be honestly dismayed if you haven't. But if you have, you might have noticed a response that comes from men. This response can take many forms, but one of them is the mildly-sarcastic remark that's a variation on this: "Whoah, calm down, there, Warrior Princess."<br />
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Now, of course, I admire those people who can maintain their calm in a stressful situation. Keeping a peaceful and centered state of being is incredibly beautiful, amazingly noble. It's also one of my biggest challenges in life, to even get close to that state of mind. It's not how I think. It's not how I work. I usually react toward my oppressors.<br />
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<br />But what's interesting to me about this phenomenon - the arrival of "Calm down, Warrior Princess" into everyday dialogue - is how and when I observe it being used.<br />
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Most often, it's used when a woman is fighting back, as opposed to aggressing. It's used when a woman speaks out about her own well-being. It's about when a woman says "no" to being a part of something that men want her to be a part of but she doesn't. It's used when a woman flexes the muscles of her freedom.<br />
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And, as I've said before on this blog, it's my belief that there's not nearly enough flexing going on out there.<br />
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As women, we need to fight back - against anything and everything that oppresses us. I don't believe that peace can be achieved on our terms. We have to use the terms and tools that counteract the forces that marshal against us as women. Put another way: if someone's coming at you with a sword, intent on killing you, then raising your hands and offering peaceful friendship might not be the path toward achieving the highest rate of likely survivability. Odds are, fortunately, that most people in the United States aren't going to find themselves in a situation where someone's coming at them with a sword, intent to kill them. We're not in those kind of <a href="http://www.nbc.com/revolution/" target="_blank">REVOLUTION</a> times just yet. But the concept makes my point: it's great to have ideals, but survival can require a person to resort to the tactics of their opponent if they want to live.<br />
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And the enemies of women are using every tactic imaginable. They're attacking women physically, mentally, intellectually, economically. They're using the law. They're using guns and knives and fists. They're using rhetoric. They're using schools, businesses, churches & mosques & synagogs. They're using the elderly. They're using children. They're using the media. They're using quiet conversations at the back of the bar. They're using public scandal. They're using whispered gossip. In short, they're using literally everything at their disposal to destroy us because they're waging war against us. <br />
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But, guess what? We've really started to seriously fight back. And that resistance is growing; the edges of our swords have been honed for a long, long time. <br />
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And we're fighting back in countless ways. We're fighting back on all those fronts I listed two paragraphs above this one. We're fighting on countless fronts, waging countless battles. We're using different tools, working with different circumstances - but we're all working toward the goal of liberating us from our oppressors.<br />
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We are of varied strength, yes. We are of varied capacity, true. Some of us are more direct than others. Some of us are more effective than others. With such conflict surrounding us on all sides, I found myself asking: "What's the one thing all warriors must have in order to fight back - on whatever level they're capable of doing so?"<br />
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The answer came to me: courage.<br />
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And that's when I thought of Xena - and of that last line of the introductory narration: "<i>Her courage would change the world</i>."<br />
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Not her sword. Not her chakram. Not even actress and advocate <a href="http://www.lucylawlessfanclub.com/" target="_blank">Lucy Lawless</a>' awesome Xena speaking voice. Ultimately, it was Xena's courage that was going to change the world. And I realized that it's the same in the real world. And that's when I knew what I had to write about, and why Xena has helped me become the person I am today.<br />
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But Xena isn't about just one kind of courage.<br />
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One aspect of courage that she displays to me is in the way she illustrates that the errors of one's past don't have to define one's future; that it's possible to forgive oneself for past failures and try again without living under the weight of what's come before in one's life. After all, Xena was once a barbarian chieftain who ruled an oppressive army that crushed its enemies. When she showed mercy toward a child, her army abandoned her and she needed to find a new path in her life. She renounced her barbarian path and traveled the countryside seeking to right wrongs instead of perpetrate them. And she did, working in the broad narrative terms of the story, being on the "side of good." <br />
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But those broad narrative terms aren't what's important. What struck me then, back in 1995 when the show began - and stays with me now - is that she refused to be characterized by her previous actions. She understood that people judged her by them, and recognized she had an uphill battle to climb. But she climbed it. And she refused to let the echoes of her warlike past diminish her efforts in the present.<br />
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And real life works like that, too. I've talked to people who tell me their pasts have been so traumatic that they feel they can't fight back in the present. I dispute this. I think that the word "won't" is too often turned into the word "can't" by people's own self-doubts and fears. Now, those fears aren't baseless. They've had a basis, more often than not, in real life traumas. But those traumas are, hopefully, in the past. And if they're not, that person needs to be working on getting past those traumas to have any hope of survival beyond mere subsistence. That person needs to fight back in their own life. They need to refuse to calm down and to be a Warrior Princess, to extricate themselves from that situation and from those limitations - whether they come from external or external sources.<br />
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This doesn't mean that people who have what many call triggers are weak. There's nothing weak about being affected by the echoe of one's own past. Terrible things happen to people - and they often leave scars both psychological and physical. But what it does mean is that we can't let ourselves as women be <i>defined</i> by these triggers. <br />
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We can't let ourselves be silenced by them. We can't let ourselves be stopped by them. We can't let ourselves be destroyed by them. We can't let ourselves be limited by them. We can't let ourselves be OK with them. Most of all, we can't let ourselves be defeated by them. <br />
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It hurts. It hurts a lot. It's incredibly painful. But we have to get back on the horse when we've fallen off. And if we don't have a horse to get onto, we need to figure out how to get that horse. And if we can't figure out how to get the horse, we need to fight to gain whatever we're missing in our lives that prevents the horse. And if we can't fight that, we need to learn to stand. And if we can't stand, we need to learn to crawl. And if we can't crawl, we need to be unafraid to ask for the help from someone else who can. These aren't simply suggestions: to me, they're the definition of what it means to live one's own life.<br />
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And that fact - that it's sometimes necessary to ask other people for help, is another part of Xena's legacy as a character that's important to me and helped teach me, and that was that her strength was not solitary. <br />
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She was not the lone figure of courage, suffering her past in silence and enduring the ravages of the world all by herself.<br />
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She found courage in sisterhood.<br />
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Whatever your feelings on whether you think Xena and Gabrielle were lovers, let me say first of all that I think they were. But I only mention that because I want to cover the broadest spectrum of relationships possible, inclusive of lovers as well as people who are simply friends. But when it's a bond between two women, the sisterhood I'm speaking of is metaphoric, obviously. <br />
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The important element to me was that it's hard for me to open up to other people. It's hard for me to trust other people. But I recognize that in order to survive in a world that's so hostile toward all women - even transwomen - that trust is essential. A Xena needs a Gabrielle needs a Xena needs a Gabrielle needs a Xena needs a Gabrielle. We all need each other. And, too often, when we're as wounded as Xena is - by whatever wounds us - we retreat. We lash out; worst of all, we often lash out toward the people who would be most likely to be our allies. <br />
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We get into fights about safe spaces. We get into fights about the definition of words. We get into fights about the natural order of the universe. We get into fights about religion. We get into fights about politics. We get into fights about each other's tastes and favorites. We get into fights about whatever we can get into fights about, really. And, as a result, we often get so wrapped up in putting our house in order and forming alliances of agreement that we seem to forget who the real enemies out there are - and what we need to do together to defeat them. <br />
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We have to recognize, I think, that we're all fundamentally different. Part of that, though, means looking out for each other, the way Xena and Gabrielle do. We need to have each other's backs - and that doesn't just mean our friends, but people we disagree with, too.<br />
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I see a lot of stories, for instance, about women who are being harassed on the bus. When I see it happening in front of me, in real life, I feel that I have to act. Sometimes, I've called authorities. Other times, there hasn't been an opportunity for that and I've gotten involved to stop the abuse. Either way, it can be dangerous. I've been threatened before in doing it. But it was necessary, in my view. <br />
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Doing something because it's right, even if it might be risky, is a major component of real courage, in my view.<br />
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We must look out for each other. We must protect each other. We must fight back against our oppressors with each other. If we don't, we're going to lose, because the fraternities (ahem) of so-called "brotherhood" that join together to attack women do so because they find strength in numbers. We need to find that strength in our efforts to fight back against them if we want to survive. We must act, and we must act together - in a co-ordinated effort.<br />
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And we need to help each other to act when we falter - because it's going to happen. There will be times when one of us stumbles. We need to reach out a hand and help that other person up to keep up with the fight. Part of that will likely sometimes mean sharing some hard truths, and refusing to hear when someone says they "can't" make it. <br />
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If someone can't make it, put them up on your shoulders and carry them the next mile. Maybe they'll change that "can't" to "can" and keep going, or maybe you'll just have someone to spend time with when you reach your goal. <br />
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The fundamental point to all of this is that we all have to refute the notion of "can't." It guarantees failure, because there's not even an effort to try. Notice the reverse isn't true: saying "I can" doesn't guarantee success. But at least it doesn't eradicate the possibility the way "I can't" does, when you don't even try. <br />
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And please note - I'm not saying that we need to measure each other by success. That's divisive. If someone tries a thousand times, and fails a thousand times, I'm going to have more respect for that person than someone who says "I can't" and doesn't try once. <br />
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Are you triggered at the thought of leaving the house? Try to leave the house every day. I won't judge you if you fail. Are you triggered by violent images of women being attacked? Try to find an outlet for the way those images make you feel and see if you can get to a point where seeing that imagery stirs your impulse toward positive change in your life. Are you triggered by harsh language or shouting? Try to shout out about the beauty of the world until you drown out the hate. But try and try and try. Try over and over again. Try even though it's exhausting. Try even though it's dispiriting. Try even though it's miserable. Try even though you get kicked into the dirt. Try. Try. Try. Most of all, try whenever anyone tells you that you can't. That's when you have to try most of all. You may save your own life by trying. You may save someone else's.<br />
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And don't do the work of the enemy for them. The folks out there who insist upon the weakness of women are trying to prove that we can't handle anything, that we're too weak to deal with life. When we recoil and retreat from mere words - does that tell them they're wrong? <br />
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Does it tell someone who tries to portray women as weak and powerless that we're not if we curl up into the fetal position and suck our thumbs when they say "Boo?"<br />
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No, it does not prove them wrong. It tells them they're right. And they're not right. They couldn't be more wrong. And we have to prove that they're wrong, over and over, every time, every single day of our lives. We have to prove that we can take what they dish out and give back in equal - or greater - measure. But we don't have to take it alone. That's the twin keys to our strength: that which comes to us in overcoming our own adversity, and that which is shared by our unbreakable bonds of sisterhood forged in our shared oppression.<br />
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But it is an oppression that cannot stand. It will fall. It is falling even now. The rage we see on the side of our oppressors comes from nothing else so much as the fact that their hateful behavior and vicious methodology are crumbling around them. The civilized world isn't tolerating their kind of outlook toward women, and women are taking places in the decision-making processes that dictate civilized society's attitudes with increasing frequency.<br />
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We've been knocked off our horses long enough.<br />
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It's time for us to ride hard into this war - and to ride together, against a common foe that, if it isn't on its last legs, is really feeling the heat and about to face our wrath on a level it hasn't felt in the war so far. And when we arrive in the camp of the enemy we will - together, side-by-side - be armed and ready for whatever they bring against us.<br />
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And we'll win that war.<br />
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We'll win because we're right.<br />
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We are all capable of changing the world. We are all sisters. We are all Warrior Princesses.<br />
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Dee Emm Elmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14053652749413575579noreply@blogger.com2