It’s easy to compartmentalize violence, to assume bad things are done by bad people lacking compassion and a moral compass. Nobody wants to believe the most dangerous people in their lives might be the ones they love.
Except that’s exactly what domestic abuse is, violence and psychological torment wrapped up in a blanket of seemingly earnest “I love you’s.
—Diana Moskovitz, "The Only Thing Unusual about Ray and Janay Rice Is That Anyone Noticed"
I’ve waited - sometimes patiently, sometimes in despair—for the story under pressure of concealment to reveal itself to me. I’ve been doing this work long enough to know that our feelings—that vast range of fear, joy, grief, sorrow, rage, you name it—are incoherent in the immediacy of the moment. It is only with distance that we are able to turn our powers of observation on ourselves, thus fashioning stories in which we are characters. There is no immediate gratification in this. No great digital crowd is “liking” what we do. We don’t experience the Pavlovian, addictive click and response of posting something that momentarily relieves the pressure inside of us, then being showered with emoticons.
—Dani Shapiro, "A Memoir Is Not a Status Update"
As a black person in America, it's getting exhausting to still have to explain, in the year 2014, your right to exist in this country. To explain that you are a human being whose value sits no lower than anyone else's. To explain our basic humanity. And perhaps worst of all, to explain exactly why we are outraged.
With a self-esteem and imagination as shaky as their vibratos, R&B’s new guard is a group of misogynistic morons more concerned with being cool, than suave; with charting a momentary meme than a classic song; with mistreating and degrading hoes, rather than seducing, and loving women. Rhythm and blues has become rhythm and bash.
—Aaron Randle, “Rhythm and Bash: Why Is Today’s R&B So Hard on Women?”
There are so few roles out there. And even if it is a film that could be led by a black actress, how many times is that film going to get funded? Let’s just be real. But it’s not just black people. It’s Asians, it’s Hispanic people if you’re not Salma Hayek. It’s hard. It’s hard to get films funded. It’s a business thing, and you have to change the mindset of people around here. The fact that Think Like A Man made so much money last year—over $100 million—but got very limited worldwide distribution is a problem. Will Smith would not be Worldwide Will Smith if he had not insisted on going worldwide and touring with his films. You have to build that audience for people and allow for it to happen.
—Octavia Spencer via The Daily Beast
Is there anything that I can do, a lot of young people have written to ask me, to avoid becoming an out-of-touch, entitled little shit? I don’t have a satisfying answer, short of telling them to transfer to a public university. You cannot cogitate your way to sympathy with people of different backgrounds, still less to knowledge of them. You need to interact with them directly, and it has to be on an equal footing: not in the context of “service,” and not in the spirit of “making an effort,” either—swooping down on a member of the college support staff and offering to “buy them a coffee,” as a former Yalie once suggested, in order to “ask them about themselves.”
Instead of service, how about service work? That’ll really give you insight into other people. How about waiting tables so that you can see how hard it is, physically and mentally? You really aren’t as smart as everyone has been telling you; you’re only smarter in a certain way. There are smart people who do not go to a prestigious college, or to any college—often precisely for reasons of class. There are smart people who are not “smart.”
—William Deresiewicz, "Don’t Send Your Kid to the Ivy League"