I think that women in the engineering and software fields are sexy.
Random dudes everywhere trying to solidarity with their female colleagues
I know you’re trying to be supportive and kind. Really, I get that this is how you show someone you care. You let them know you think they’re hot. But it doesn’t have a bearing on the conversation whether you think women in STEM are sexy or not. In fact, it’s kind of a part of the problem. You’re reducing women to their sexual value, not their intellectual value.
How about, “I think women in the engineering and software fields are smart/help us build stronger systems/add much needed alternative points of view/make our country proud.” There are so many ways to say you support women like these without making the equivalent of “I’d tap that” remarks. What’s worse, consider that now you’ve added a qualifier of sexuality to those fields where it shouldn’t matter who wants to fuck you.
There are better ways to show that you care. In the future, imagine you’re speaking to your daughter or grandmother. That’s the kind of “go for it!” we want to hear :D
I’ll lead by example: I think women in engineering and software are strong and smart and a real asset to modern society. We need more of them!
I’m a part of this gentrification. I recently visited San Francisco, and I can only describe the experience like this:
Imagine a carnival that’s got every ride you’ve ever wanted to take, free fair food, beautiful performers who all look like you (I mean exactly like you, not just white). At first you’re delighted: this place has been built just for you! It’s a Pleasure Island! And the performers all cry out to you, “Stay! Stay! You totally belong here with us! Can’t you see?” In a dizzy daze of awesome, you stumble behind one of the tents. It smells like pee. You wander around, and night begins to fall. You look for a friendly face, but the only people you see are homeless or thuggish. You want desperately to get back to the shiny people, but you wonder: why isn’t there anyone else here? Terrified, you start running down the stalls: where are the artists? The musicians? The librarians? The teachers? And you begin to wonder if this place ate them all and if it plans on eating you, too.
When I hear about gentrification because of tech centers like this, my first thought is, “Why don’t you learn HTML and CSS and come roll around in this money with me?” But I know those words are easy to say (although the deed is only a little harder). I remember when I couldn’t make $500 rent and made comics for a living (because it was my DREAM dammit). I also abandoned that dream to find a new one and get paid.
I’m sorry. I might be the person paying double your rent down the line. But if you ever want to learn HTML, CSS, etc, hit me up. I’m a good teacher. And you can roll around in this money with me. I mean, you won’t get as much as a white man would (who can?), but you’ll make rent at least.
If you live in the Bay, and are not choosing to be willfully ignorant, you probably already know that gentrification is a huge problem here. San Francisco’s proximity to Silicon Valley has attracted a lot of techie-type young professionals who are pushing out SF’s previous residents, especially those that are low income people of color. Those displaced are often moving to the East Bay, pushing the East Bay’s low-income residents of color out into far-flung suburbs with little of the resources the “inner-city” provides, such as public transit. Nothing I’ve said so far is anything that hasn’t already been said over and over again.
Resistance to gentrification takes many forms. Some, like Causa Justa and the Right to the City Alliance organize against evictions and foreclosures. Others, like local Barry Jenkins, make thoughtful films like Medicine for Melancholy, a love letter to the city of San Francisco lamenting the fact that many people of color can no longer afford to live there. And then you have Miss Persia and Daddie$ Pla$tik.
When I first saw Miss Persia and Daddie$ Pla$tik perform at Marga Gomez’s Comedy Bodega at Esta Noche in the Mission, I knew immediately I was witnessing something amazing. As someone who wrote my undergraduate thesis on the power of queer and trans people of color’s performance art, I recognized the performance of “Google Apps” as protest art, the likes of which I had never seen before. Even as I watched the performance, I didn’t feel like my mind was open enough to fully comprehend what I was witnessing. Which is why I’m really glad they made a video.
Though the slowly atrophying academic part of my brain is tempted to do a close reading, I will not interpret every line for you. That would be like reading a choose-your-own-adventure book where all your adventures are already chosen for you. I will say that I disagree with the interpretation of the video/song’s message as xenophobic. It’s pretty clear to me that Miss Persia and Daddie$ Pla$tik don’t want to be white, they just want to be able to stay in their homes.
What else can I say about this video? It’s hilarious, it’s obscene, and it’s poignant. Though thousands more words are sure to be spent explaining and opining on the housing crisis in the Bay Area, perhaps none will do so more successfully or succinctly than “Moving to the East Bay/Living life the broke way/SF keep your money/F*** your money!”
Someone give a comedy performance award to the performer who delivers the line “I don’t know?”
A Soviet cartoon of an old Rudyard Kipling tale about animals, domestication, and extinction. I love to think about the stories Rudyard would write if he had been born in my generation. Then again, it was his service in the British military during their occupation of India that gave him all his materials. Perhaps such a person born today would not see the same inspiring cultures.