Helen H. Moore's Blog, page 850

Chris Rock’s Oscars monologue stuns: “When your grandmother’s swinging from a tree it’s really hard to care about best documentary foreign short”

Chris Rock opened the 88th Academy Awards on ABC tonight with a bang, addressing diversity amongst the nominees pointedly and at times, brilliantly. Rock was called on to quit his hosting gig for the ceremony from some observers after the all-white list of nominees was announced by the Academy. The resulting #OscarsSoWhite conversation pushed Will Smith and Jada Pinkett Smith as well as Spike Lee to publicly boycott the event. In his monologue, Rock explained why he didn’t duck out—taking the time to joke, first, that Jada Pinkett Smith boycotting the Oscars was like he himself boycotting Rihanna’s panties ("I wasn't invited!"). But really, he said, “this whole no black nominees thing has happened at least 71 other times,” and the reason it hadn’t come up before was because African-Americans had “real things to protest at the time.” We were “too busy being raped and lynched to care about who won best cinematographer,” Rock said.“When your grandmother’s swinging from a tree it’s really hard to care about best documentary foreign short.” Lynching is not an easy topic for a stand-up monologue, and it’s a testament to Rock’s courageous candor that he can tackle diversity, white privilege, a violent history of slavery and oppression, and the relative value of nominees of color in about 15 minutes of monologue. Rock joked—with even more gallows humor than the lynching bit—that the Academy’s “In Memoriam” segment should just feature the black kids who got shot on the way to the movies. The audience of, well, mostly rich white people were stunned into awkward laughter and clearly were confused about when and how to laugh. Rock made fun of the cushy Hollywood audience, but he made fun of black people, and also roped in some really serious political issues. It wasn’t an easy monologue; it was uncomfortable, thorny, and one of the most shocking segments the typically inoffensive Oscars have ever produced. Rock didn’t stop there. Immediately after the first award, a pre-taped bit featured Tracy Morgan, Whoopi Goldberg, and Rock himself as black performers trying to insert themselves into some of this year’s Best Picture nominees. Tracy Morgan ate a Danish, while wearing lipstick, and declared himself “The Danish Girl,” while Goldberg mopped the floor as Jennifer Lawrence —the titular lead of “Joy” — struggled to market her mop. And in a joke that fell flat with the in-house audience—except for performer and nominee The Weeknd, who was either so shocked or embarrassed that he was spotted covering an shocked laugh with one hand—actress Stacey Dash, who derided the Oscar boycott on Fox News in January, was declared by Rock to be the Academy’s new outreach coordinator. She trotted out to wish everyone, in syrupy tones, a “Happy Black History Month.” Rock ended his monologue by declaring the Oscars to be not “burning cross racist” or “fetch me some lemonade” racist but “sorority racist,” artfully defining the tribalism of Hollywood while observing that the crowd made up some of the most well-meaning, nicest white people around. It was a monologue meant to make the establishment feel shamed, but not too shamed, while feeling a part of something that could make the problem increasingly better. It was also blisteringly funny. (“’Rocky’ takes place in a world where white athletes are as good as black athletes. ‘Rocky’ is a science-fiction movie.”) Either way, it started the conversation off by identifying every sore point and shining a huge light on it, and for these Oscars, that’s just the right place to begin.Chris Rock opened the 88th Academy Awards on ABC tonight with a bang, addressing diversity amongst the nominees pointedly and at times, brilliantly. Rock was called on to quit his hosting gig for the ceremony from some observers after the all-white list of nominees was announced by the Academy. The resulting #OscarsSoWhite conversation pushed Will Smith and Jada Pinkett Smith as well as Spike Lee to publicly boycott the event. In his monologue, Rock explained why he didn’t duck out—taking the time to joke, first, that Jada Pinkett Smith boycotting the Oscars was like he himself boycotting Rihanna’s panties ("I wasn't invited!"). But really, he said, “this whole no black nominees thing has happened at least 71 other times,” and the reason it hadn’t come up before was because African-Americans had “real things to protest at the time.” We were “too busy being raped and lynched to care about who won best cinematographer,” Rock said.“When your grandmother’s swinging from a tree it’s really hard to care about best documentary foreign short.” Lynching is not an easy topic for a stand-up monologue, and it’s a testament to Rock’s courageous candor that he can tackle diversity, white privilege, a violent history of slavery and oppression, and the relative value of nominees of color in about 15 minutes of monologue. Rock joked—with even more gallows humor than the lynching bit—that the Academy’s “In Memoriam” segment should just feature the black kids who got shot on the way to the movies. The audience of, well, mostly rich white people were stunned into awkward laughter and clearly were confused about when and how to laugh. Rock made fun of the cushy Hollywood audience, but he made fun of black people, and also roped in some really serious political issues. It wasn’t an easy monologue; it was uncomfortable, thorny, and one of the most shocking segments the typically inoffensive Oscars have ever produced. Rock didn’t stop there. Immediately after the first award, a pre-taped bit featured Tracy Morgan, Whoopi Goldberg, and Rock himself as black performers trying to insert themselves into some of this year’s Best Picture nominees. Tracy Morgan ate a Danish, while wearing lipstick, and declared himself “The Danish Girl,” while Goldberg mopped the floor as Jennifer Lawrence —the titular lead of “Joy” — struggled to market her mop. And in a joke that fell flat with the in-house audience—except for performer and nominee The Weeknd, who was either so shocked or embarrassed that he was spotted covering an shocked laugh with one hand—actress Stacey Dash, who derided the Oscar boycott on Fox News in January, was declared by Rock to be the Academy’s new outreach coordinator. She trotted out to wish everyone, in syrupy tones, a “Happy Black History Month.” Rock ended his monologue by declaring the Oscars to be not “burning cross racist” or “fetch me some lemonade” racist but “sorority racist,” artfully defining the tribalism of Hollywood while observing that the crowd made up some of the most well-meaning, nicest white people around. It was a monologue meant to make the establishment feel shamed, but not too shamed, while feeling a part of something that could make the problem increasingly better. It was also blisteringly funny. (“’Rocky’ takes place in a world where white athletes are as good as black athletes. ‘Rocky’ is a science-fiction movie.”) Either way, it started the conversation off by identifying every sore point and shining a huge light on it, and for these Oscars, that’s just the right place to begin.

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“5 seconds of Louis CK and now we all want him to host”: Oscar viewers go wild for the comedian’s blunt award intro

Louis CK presented the Oscar for Best Documentary Short at the 2016 Academy Awards in his characteristic curmudgeonly fashion. CK joked that the trophy for that particular category would be "going home in a Honda Civic" to a "small apartment," while the others would find home in million-dollar mansions. LCK fans ate it up. https://twitter.com/JimVejvoda/status... https://twitter.com/ariscott/status/7... https://twitter.com/XGroverX/status/7... https://twitter.com/marcbernardin/sta... https://twitter.com/OgleConnie/status... A small subset of Twitter, however, commented on what they found to be CK's hypocrisy, citing his incredible wealth -- along with his wildly rumored/alleged "propensity for whipping it out and jerking off in front of women at inappropriate times (i.e. dinner table, bar, etc.)": https://twitter.com/MattOswaltVA/stat... https://twitter.com/officialwiener/st... https://twitter.com/evepeyser/status/... https://twitter.com/leahfinnegan/stat...

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Kevin Hart mocks #OscarsSoWhite on stage: This year, “I thought for sure I’d get a seat in the front row”

Kevin Hart can be overwhelming: He has none of Chris Rock's nuance or modulation. But he found a way to bring a smart, unpredictable angle to the #OscarsSoWhite debate as he introduced the performance of "Earned It," the best song nominee by The Weeknd. He led into it with a classic zinger. "I only came tonight because I thought for sure I'd get a seat in the front row," alluding to how much more likely he'd be to get camera time during a ceremony that many high-profile black actors and filmmakers were avoiding because of the dearth of diversity in this year's nominees. "Let's not let this negative issue of diversity beat us," he said. "Let's do why we do and work hard." Hart talked passionately about the ambition and effort that drives people even when they feel they're being overlooked. Rock and others have done a good job exposing the issue -- you wouldn't want nothing but positive, happy words like this — it would feel like spin. And is calling attention to a lack of diversity really "negative," Hard characterized it? But Hart took the conversation in a different direction and reminded us why the whole thing matters. Rock kidded about Hart hosting next year's Oscars. Who knows how likely that really is, but his appearance tonight, which could have been a throwaway, makes us look forward to seeing him keep riffing.Kevin Hart can be overwhelming: He has none of Chris Rock's nuance or modulation. But he found a way to bring a smart, unpredictable angle to the #OscarsSoWhite debate as he introduced the performance of "Earned It," the best song nominee by The Weeknd. He led into it with a classic zinger. "I only came tonight because I thought for sure I'd get a seat in the front row," alluding to how much more likely he'd be to get camera time during a ceremony that many high-profile black actors and filmmakers were avoiding because of the dearth of diversity in this year's nominees. "Let's not let this negative issue of diversity beat us," he said. "Let's do why we do and work hard." Hart talked passionately about the ambition and effort that drives people even when they feel they're being overlooked. Rock and others have done a good job exposing the issue -- you wouldn't want nothing but positive, happy words like this — it would feel like spin. And is calling attention to a lack of diversity really "negative," Hard characterized it? But Hart took the conversation in a different direction and reminded us why the whole thing matters. Rock kidded about Hart hosting next year's Oscars. Who knows how likely that really is, but his appearance tonight, which could have been a throwaway, makes us look forward to seeing him keep riffing.Kevin Hart can be overwhelming: He has none of Chris Rock's nuance or modulation. But he found a way to bring a smart, unpredictable angle to the #OscarsSoWhite debate as he introduced the performance of "Earned It," the best song nominee by The Weeknd. He led into it with a classic zinger. "I only came tonight because I thought for sure I'd get a seat in the front row," alluding to how much more likely he'd be to get camera time during a ceremony that many high-profile black actors and filmmakers were avoiding because of the dearth of diversity in this year's nominees. "Let's not let this negative issue of diversity beat us," he said. "Let's do why we do and work hard." Hart talked passionately about the ambition and effort that drives people even when they feel they're being overlooked. Rock and others have done a good job exposing the issue -- you wouldn't want nothing but positive, happy words like this — it would feel like spin. And is calling attention to a lack of diversity really "negative," Hard characterized it? But Hart took the conversation in a different direction and reminded us why the whole thing matters. Rock kidded about Hart hosting next year's Oscars. Who knows how likely that really is, but his appearance tonight, which could have been a throwaway, makes us look forward to seeing him keep riffing.Kevin Hart can be overwhelming: He has none of Chris Rock's nuance or modulation. But he found a way to bring a smart, unpredictable angle to the #OscarsSoWhite debate as he introduced the performance of "Earned It," the best song nominee by The Weeknd. He led into it with a classic zinger. "I only came tonight because I thought for sure I'd get a seat in the front row," alluding to how much more likely he'd be to get camera time during a ceremony that many high-profile black actors and filmmakers were avoiding because of the dearth of diversity in this year's nominees. "Let's not let this negative issue of diversity beat us," he said. "Let's do why we do and work hard." Hart talked passionately about the ambition and effort that drives people even when they feel they're being overlooked. Rock and others have done a good job exposing the issue -- you wouldn't want nothing but positive, happy words like this — it would feel like spin. And is calling attention to a lack of diversity really "negative," Hard characterized it? But Hart took the conversation in a different direction and reminded us why the whole thing matters. Rock kidded about Hart hosting next year's Oscars. Who knows how likely that really is, but his appearance tonight, which could have been a throwaway, makes us look forward to seeing him keep riffing.Kevin Hart can be overwhelming: He has none of Chris Rock's nuance or modulation. But he found a way to bring a smart, unpredictable angle to the #OscarsSoWhite debate as he introduced the performance of "Earned It," the best song nominee by The Weeknd. He led into it with a classic zinger. "I only came tonight because I thought for sure I'd get a seat in the front row," alluding to how much more likely he'd be to get camera time during a ceremony that many high-profile black actors and filmmakers were avoiding because of the dearth of diversity in this year's nominees. "Let's not let this negative issue of diversity beat us," he said. "Let's do why we do and work hard." Hart talked passionately about the ambition and effort that drives people even when they feel they're being overlooked. Rock and others have done a good job exposing the issue -- you wouldn't want nothing but positive, happy words like this — it would feel like spin. And is calling attention to a lack of diversity really "negative," Hard characterized it? But Hart took the conversation in a different direction and reminded us why the whole thing matters. Rock kidded about Hart hosting next year's Oscars. Who knows how likely that really is, but his appearance tonight, which could have been a throwaway, makes us look forward to seeing him keep riffing.

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“This Oscar is going home in a Honda Civic”: Louis C.K. steals the show with a real tribute to an unloved category

Louis C.K. presented the award for best documentary short film at tonight’s 88th Academy Awards, and in a show characterized by stilted bits that no one can infuse with life or warmth, C.K. managed to bring a moment of authentic appreciation to a easily overlooked category—those short documentaries that, as he observed, are almost always passion products. “This is the one academy award that has the opportunity to change a life,” he said. “I’m happy for all of you,” he continued to the crowd of luminaries in the Dolby Theater in Los Angeles, “but you came here winners and you’re leaving millionaires.” “These people—this is documentary short film,” he said. “It’s not even documentary feature.” Recognizable names like Al Gore and Michael Moore have won those, he pointed out. But with Documentary Short Film, “You cannot make a dime on this. These people will never be rich for as long as they live. So this Oscar means something. All they do is tell stories that are important.” C.K.’s career has largely been on television, but for several years he’s made waves with his fans through bypassing traditional industry routes in order to fund and distribute his work. He’s doing this right now with a new drama, “Horace And Pete,” starring himself, Steve Buscemi and Alan Alda, which costs $5 for each episode of a genre-bending homage to Eugene O’Neill’s plays. To me, as someone familiar with his work, his words on documentary filmmakers seemed to come from a sense of similarly felt passion for his own art. C.K. concluded, “This Oscar is going to be the nicest thing they ever own in their life. It is going to give them anxiety to keep it in their crappy apartment.” C.K. has many golden statuettes now, but he won his first back in 1999, with the rest of the writers on “The Chris Rock Show.” Maybe he felt exactly the same way about his. Before joking that this award, like several earlier in the night, was going to go to “Max Max: Fury Road,” C.K. announced the winner—"A Girl In The River: The Price Of Forgiveness," about a Muslim honor-killing, by Sharmeen Obaid-Chinoy. She has one previous Oscar, for "Saving Face."Louis C.K. presented the award for best documentary short film at tonight’s 88th Academy Awards, and in a show characterized by stilted bits that no one can infuse with life or warmth, C.K. managed to bring a moment of authentic appreciation to a easily overlooked category—those short documentaries that, as he observed, are almost always passion products. “This is the one academy award that has the opportunity to change a life,” he said. “I’m happy for all of you,” he continued to the crowd of luminaries in the Dolby Theater in Los Angeles, “but you came here winners and you’re leaving millionaires.” “These people—this is documentary short film,” he said. “It’s not even documentary feature.” Recognizable names like Al Gore and Michael Moore have won those, he pointed out. But with Documentary Short Film, “You cannot make a dime on this. These people will never be rich for as long as they live. So this Oscar means something. All they do is tell stories that are important.” C.K.’s career has largely been on television, but for several years he’s made waves with his fans through bypassing traditional industry routes in order to fund and distribute his work. He’s doing this right now with a new drama, “Horace And Pete,” starring himself, Steve Buscemi and Alan Alda, which costs $5 for each episode of a genre-bending homage to Eugene O’Neill’s plays. To me, as someone familiar with his work, his words on documentary filmmakers seemed to come from a sense of similarly felt passion for his own art. C.K. concluded, “This Oscar is going to be the nicest thing they ever own in their life. It is going to give them anxiety to keep it in their crappy apartment.” C.K. has many golden statuettes now, but he won his first back in 1999, with the rest of the writers on “The Chris Rock Show.” Maybe he felt exactly the same way about his. Before joking that this award, like several earlier in the night, was going to go to “Max Max: Fury Road,” C.K. announced the winner—"A Girl In The River: The Price Of Forgiveness," about a Muslim honor-killing, by Sharmeen Obaid-Chinoy. She has one previous Oscar, for "Saving Face."Louis C.K. presented the award for best documentary short film at tonight’s 88th Academy Awards, and in a show characterized by stilted bits that no one can infuse with life or warmth, C.K. managed to bring a moment of authentic appreciation to a easily overlooked category—those short documentaries that, as he observed, are almost always passion products. “This is the one academy award that has the opportunity to change a life,” he said. “I’m happy for all of you,” he continued to the crowd of luminaries in the Dolby Theater in Los Angeles, “but you came here winners and you’re leaving millionaires.” “These people—this is documentary short film,” he said. “It’s not even documentary feature.” Recognizable names like Al Gore and Michael Moore have won those, he pointed out. But with Documentary Short Film, “You cannot make a dime on this. These people will never be rich for as long as they live. So this Oscar means something. All they do is tell stories that are important.” C.K.’s career has largely been on television, but for several years he’s made waves with his fans through bypassing traditional industry routes in order to fund and distribute his work. He’s doing this right now with a new drama, “Horace And Pete,” starring himself, Steve Buscemi and Alan Alda, which costs $5 for each episode of a genre-bending homage to Eugene O’Neill’s plays. To me, as someone familiar with his work, his words on documentary filmmakers seemed to come from a sense of similarly felt passion for his own art. C.K. concluded, “This Oscar is going to be the nicest thing they ever own in their life. It is going to give them anxiety to keep it in their crappy apartment.” C.K. has many golden statuettes now, but he won his first back in 1999, with the rest of the writers on “The Chris Rock Show.” Maybe he felt exactly the same way about his. Before joking that this award, like several earlier in the night, was going to go to “Max Max: Fury Road,” C.K. announced the winner—"A Girl In The River: The Price Of Forgiveness," about a Muslim honor-killing, by Sharmeen Obaid-Chinoy. She has one previous Oscar, for "Saving Face."

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“Is that the first ‘rape, lynch’ joke by a host in Oscars history?”: Twitter loses it over Chris Rock’s Oscars monologue and #OscarsSoWhite

https://twitter.com/BetteMidler/statu... https://twitter.com/JeffreyGoldberg/s... As if this year's ceremonies weren't under enough scrutiny for racial insensitivity, during the red carpet ceremony, Total Beauty Media -- a makeup review site -- tweeted out a picture of Whoopi Goldberg on the Red Carpet with the caption, "We had no idea @Oprah was #tatted, and we love it." The account has since deleted the tweet, and posted the following apology: https://twitter.com/TotalBeauty/statu... But not before making the Twitter-rounds and spawning some parodies: https://twitter.com/KennyCoble/status... Mark Ruffalo was the only white actor who was asked directly about the issue of diversity in Hollywood during ABC's red carpet coverage. On his response: https://twitter.com/AnnHornaday/statu... https://twitter.com/feministabulous/s... On Chris Rock's opening monologue, which proved every bit as brilliant and provocative as anticipated: https://twitter.com/BlakeNBC/status/7... https://twitter.com/wkamaubell/status... https://twitter.com/RococoCocoa/statu... https://twitter.com/nightlyshow/statu... https://twitter.com/harikondabolu/sta... https://twitter.com/jelani9/status/70... https://twitter.com/TheEllenShow/stat... https://twitter.com/kumailn/status/70... https://twitter.com/PatriciaHeaton/st... https://twitter.com/ThePerezHilton/st... https://twitter.com/JeffreyGoldberg/s... As if this year's ceremonies weren't under enough scrutiny for racial insensitivity, during the red carpet ceremony, Total Beauty Media -- a makeup review site -- tweeted out a picture of Whoopi Goldberg on the Red Carpet with the caption, "We had no idea @Oprah was #tatted, and we love it." The account has since deleted the tweet, and posted the following apology: https://twitter.com/TotalBeauty/statu... But not before making the Twitter-rounds and spawning some parodies: https://twitter.com/KennyCoble/status... Mark Ruffalo was the only white actor who was asked directly about the issue of diversity in Hollywood during ABC's red carpet coverage. On his response: https://twitter.com/AnnHornaday/statu... https://twitter.com/feministabulous/s... On Chris Rock's opening monologue, which proved every bit as brilliant and provocative as anticipated: https://twitter.com/BlakeNBC/status/7... https://twitter.com/wkamaubell/status... https://twitter.com/RococoCocoa/statu... https://twitter.com/nightlyshow/statu... https://twitter.com/harikondabolu/sta... https://twitter.com/jelani9/status/70... https://twitter.com/TheEllenShow/stat... https://twitter.com/kumailn/status/70... https://twitter.com/PatriciaHeaton/st... https://twitter.com/ThePerezHilton/st... https://twitter.com/JeffreyGoldberg/s... As if this year's ceremonies weren't under enough scrutiny for racial insensitivity, during the red carpet ceremony, Total Beauty Media -- a makeup review site -- tweeted out a picture of Whoopi Goldberg on the Red Carpet with the caption, "We had no idea @Oprah was #tatted, and we love it." The account has since deleted the tweet, and posted the following apology: https://twitter.com/TotalBeauty/statu... But not before making the Twitter-rounds and spawning some parodies: https://twitter.com/KennyCoble/status... Mark Ruffalo was the only white actor who was asked directly about the issue of diversity in Hollywood during ABC's red carpet coverage. On his response: https://twitter.com/AnnHornaday/statu... https://twitter.com/feministabulous/s... On Chris Rock's opening monologue, which proved every bit as brilliant and provocative as anticipated: https://twitter.com/BlakeNBC/status/7... https://twitter.com/wkamaubell/status... https://twitter.com/RococoCocoa/statu... https://twitter.com/nightlyshow/statu... https://twitter.com/harikondabolu/sta... https://twitter.com/jelani9/status/70... https://twitter.com/TheEllenShow/stat... https://twitter.com/kumailn/status/70... https://twitter.com/PatriciaHeaton/st... https://twitter.com/ThePerezHilton/st... https://twitter.com/JeffreyGoldberg/s... As if this year's ceremonies weren't under enough scrutiny for racial insensitivity, during the red carpet ceremony, Total Beauty Media -- a makeup review site -- tweeted out a picture of Whoopi Goldberg on the Red Carpet with the caption, "We had no idea @Oprah was #tatted, and we love it." The account has since deleted the tweet, and posted the following apology: https://twitter.com/TotalBeauty/statu... But not before making the Twitter-rounds and spawning some parodies: https://twitter.com/KennyCoble/status... Mark Ruffalo was the only white actor who was asked directly about the issue of diversity in Hollywood during ABC's red carpet coverage. On his response: https://twitter.com/AnnHornaday/statu... https://twitter.com/feministabulous/s... On Chris Rock's opening monologue, which proved every bit as brilliant and provocative as anticipated: https://twitter.com/BlakeNBC/status/7... https://twitter.com/wkamaubell/status... https://twitter.com/RococoCocoa/statu... https://twitter.com/nightlyshow/statu... https://twitter.com/harikondabolu/sta... https://twitter.com/jelani9/status/70... https://twitter.com/TheEllenShow/stat... https://twitter.com/kumailn/status/70... https://twitter.com/PatriciaHeaton/st... https://twitter.com/ThePerezHilton/st... https://twitter.com/JeffreyGoldberg/s... As if this year's ceremonies weren't under enough scrutiny for racial insensitivity, during the red carpet ceremony, Total Beauty Media -- a makeup review site -- tweeted out a picture of Whoopi Goldberg on the Red Carpet with the caption, "We had no idea @Oprah was #tatted, and we love it." The account has since deleted the tweet, and posted the following apology: https://twitter.com/TotalBeauty/statu... But not before making the Twitter-rounds and spawning some parodies: https://twitter.com/KennyCoble/status... Mark Ruffalo was the only white actor who was asked directly about the issue of diversity in Hollywood during ABC's red carpet coverage. On his response: https://twitter.com/AnnHornaday/statu... https://twitter.com/feministabulous/s... On Chris Rock's opening monologue, which proved every bit as brilliant and provocative as anticipated: https://twitter.com/BlakeNBC/status/7... https://twitter.com/wkamaubell/status... https://twitter.com/RococoCocoa/statu... https://twitter.com/nightlyshow/statu... https://twitter.com/harikondabolu/sta... https://twitter.com/jelani9/status/70... https://twitter.com/TheEllenShow/stat... https://twitter.com/kumailn/status/70... https://twitter.com/PatriciaHeaton/st... https://twitter.com/ThePerezHilton/st... https://twitter.com/JeffreyGoldberg/s... As if this year's ceremonies weren't under enough scrutiny for racial insensitivity, during the red carpet ceremony, Total Beauty Media -- a makeup review site -- tweeted out a picture of Whoopi Goldberg on the Red Carpet with the caption, "We had no idea @Oprah was #tatted, and we love it." The account has since deleted the tweet, and posted the following apology: https://twitter.com/TotalBeauty/statu... But not before making the Twitter-rounds and spawning some parodies: https://twitter.com/KennyCoble/status... Mark Ruffalo was the only white actor who was asked directly about the issue of diversity in Hollywood during ABC's red carpet coverage. On his response: https://twitter.com/AnnHornaday/statu... https://twitter.com/feministabulous/s... On Chris Rock's opening monologue, which proved every bit as brilliant and provocative as anticipated: https://twitter.com/BlakeNBC/status/7... https://twitter.com/wkamaubell/status... https://twitter.com/RococoCocoa/statu... https://twitter.com/nightlyshow/statu... https://twitter.com/harikondabolu/sta... https://twitter.com/jelani9/status/70... https://twitter.com/TheEllenShow/stat... https://twitter.com/kumailn/status/70... https://twitter.com/PatriciaHeaton/st... https://twitter.com/ThePerezHilton/st... https://twitter.com/JeffreyGoldberg/s... As if this year's ceremonies weren't under enough scrutiny for racial insensitivity, during the red carpet ceremony, Total Beauty Media -- a makeup review site -- tweeted out a picture of Whoopi Goldberg on the Red Carpet with the caption, "We had no idea @Oprah was #tatted, and we love it." The account has since deleted the tweet, and posted the following apology: https://twitter.com/TotalBeauty/statu... But not before making the Twitter-rounds and spawning some parodies: https://twitter.com/KennyCoble/status... Mark Ruffalo was the only white actor who was asked directly about the issue of diversity in Hollywood during ABC's red carpet coverage. On his response: https://twitter.com/AnnHornaday/statu... https://twitter.com/feministabulous/s... On Chris Rock's opening monologue, which proved every bit as brilliant and provocative as anticipated: https://twitter.com/BlakeNBC/status/7... https://twitter.com/wkamaubell/status... https://twitter.com/RococoCocoa/statu... https://twitter.com/nightlyshow/statu... https://twitter.com/harikondabolu/sta... https://twitter.com/jelani9/status/70... https://twitter.com/TheEllenShow/stat... https://twitter.com/kumailn/status/70... https://twitter.com/PatriciaHeaton/st... https://twitter.com/ThePerezHilton/st... https://twitter.com/JeffreyGoldberg/s... As if this year's ceremonies weren't under enough scrutiny for racial insensitivity, during the red carpet ceremony, Total Beauty Media -- a makeup review site -- tweeted out a picture of Whoopi Goldberg on the Red Carpet with the caption, "We had no idea @Oprah was #tatted, and we love it." The account has since deleted the tweet, and posted the following apology: https://twitter.com/TotalBeauty/statu... But not before making the Twitter-rounds and spawning some parodies: https://twitter.com/KennyCoble/status... Mark Ruffalo was the only white actor who was asked directly about the issue of diversity in Hollywood during ABC's red carpet coverage. On his response: https://twitter.com/AnnHornaday/statu... https://twitter.com/feministabulous/s... On Chris Rock's opening monologue, which proved every bit as brilliant and provocative as anticipated: https://twitter.com/BlakeNBC/status/7... https://twitter.com/wkamaubell/status... https://twitter.com/RococoCocoa/statu... https://twitter.com/nightlyshow/statu... https://twitter.com/harikondabolu/sta... https://twitter.com/jelani9/status/70... https://twitter.com/TheEllenShow/stat... https://twitter.com/kumailn/status/70... https://twitter.com/PatriciaHeaton/st... https://twitter.com/ThePerezHilton/st... https://twitter.com/JeffreyGoldberg/s... As if this year's ceremonies weren't under enough scrutiny for racial insensitivity, during the red carpet ceremony, Total Beauty Media -- a makeup review site -- tweeted out a picture of Whoopi Goldberg on the Red Carpet with the caption, "We had no idea @Oprah was #tatted, and we love it." The account has since deleted the tweet, and posted the following apology: https://twitter.com/TotalBeauty/statu... But not before making the Twitter-rounds and spawning some parodies: https://twitter.com/KennyCoble/status... Mark Ruffalo was the only white actor who was asked directly about the issue of diversity in Hollywood during ABC's red carpet coverage. On his response: https://twitter.com/AnnHornaday/statu... https://twitter.com/feministabulous/s... On Chris Rock's opening monologue, which proved every bit as brilliant and provocative as anticipated: https://twitter.com/BlakeNBC/status/7... https://twitter.com/wkamaubell/status... https://twitter.com/RococoCocoa/statu... https://twitter.com/nightlyshow/statu... https://twitter.com/harikondabolu/sta... https://twitter.com/jelani9/status/70... https://twitter.com/TheEllenShow/stat... https://twitter.com/kumailn/status/70... https://twitter.com/PatriciaHeaton/st... https://twitter.com/ThePerezHilton/st... https://twitter.com/JeffreyGoldberg/s... As if this year's ceremonies weren't under enough scrutiny for racial insensitivity, during the red carpet ceremony, Total Beauty Media -- a makeup review site -- tweeted out a picture of Whoopi Goldberg on the Red Carpet with the caption, "We had no idea @Oprah was #tatted, and we love it." The account has since deleted the tweet, and posted the following apology: https://twitter.com/TotalBeauty/statu... But not before making the Twitter-rounds and spawning some parodies: https://twitter.com/KennyCoble/status... Mark Ruffalo was the only white actor who was asked directly about the issue of diversity in Hollywood during ABC's red carpet coverage. On his response: https://twitter.com/AnnHornaday/statu... https://twitter.com/feministabulous/s... On Chris Rock's opening monologue, which proved every bit as brilliant and provocative as anticipated: https://twitter.com/BlakeNBC/status/7... https://twitter.com/wkamaubell/status... https://twitter.com/RococoCocoa/statu... https://twitter.com/nightlyshow/statu... https://twitter.com/harikondabolu/sta... https://twitter.com/jelani9/status/70... https://twitter.com/TheEllenShow/stat... https://twitter.com/kumailn/status/70... https://twitter.com/PatriciaHeaton/st... https://twitter.com/ThePerezHilton/st... https://twitter.com/JeffreyGoldberg/s... As if this year's ceremonies weren't under enough scrutiny for racial insensitivity, during the red carpet ceremony, Total Beauty Media -- a makeup review site -- tweeted out a picture of Whoopi Goldberg on the Red Carpet with the caption, "We had no idea @Oprah was #tatted, and we love it." The account has since deleted the tweet, and posted the following apology: https://twitter.com/TotalBeauty/statu... But not before making the Twitter-rounds and spawning some parodies: https://twitter.com/KennyCoble/status... Mark Ruffalo was the only white actor who was asked directly about the issue of diversity in Hollywood during ABC's red carpet coverage. On his response: https://twitter.com/AnnHornaday/statu... https://twitter.com/feministabulous/s... On Chris Rock's opening monologue, which proved every bit as brilliant and provocative as anticipated: https://twitter.com/BlakeNBC/status/7... https://twitter.com/wkamaubell/status... https://twitter.com/RococoCocoa/statu... https://twitter.com/nightlyshow/statu... https://twitter.com/harikondabolu/sta... https://twitter.com/jelani9/status/70... https://twitter.com/TheEllenShow/stat... https://twitter.com/kumailn/status/70... https://twitter.com/PatriciaHeaton/st... https://twitter.com/ThePerezHilton/st... https://twitter.com/JeffreyGoldberg/s... As if this year's ceremonies weren't under enough scrutiny for racial insensitivity, during the red carpet ceremony, Total Beauty Media -- a makeup review site -- tweeted out a picture of Whoopi Goldberg on the Red Carpet with the caption, "We had no idea @Oprah was #tatted, and we love it." The account has since deleted the tweet, and posted the following apology: https://twitter.com/TotalBeauty/statu... But not before making the Twitter-rounds and spawning some parodies: https://twitter.com/KennyCoble/status... Mark Ruffalo was the only white actor who was asked directly about the issue of diversity in Hollywood during ABC's red carpet coverage. On his response: https://twitter.com/AnnHornaday/statu... https://twitter.com/feministabulous/s... On Chris Rock's opening monologue, which proved every bit as brilliant and provocative as anticipated: https://twitter.com/BlakeNBC/status/7... https://twitter.com/wkamaubell/status... https://twitter.com/RococoCocoa/statu... https://twitter.com/nightlyshow/statu... https://twitter.com/harikondabolu/sta... https://twitter.com/jelani9/status/70... https://twitter.com/TheEllenShow/stat... https://twitter.com/kumailn/status/70... https://twitter.com/PatriciaHeaton/st... https://twitter.com/ThePerezHilton/st...

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Did Adam McKay just call out the Koch brothers on the Oscars stage?

For those of us waiting for a movie that took on Wall Street excess and assigned blame to the people who generated the Great Recession, "The Big Short" has been the answer to prayers. So it only made sense that Adam McKay and Charles Randolph, accepting the  best adapted screenplay award, would toss out one of the night's best and post political lines so far. "If you don't want big money to control government," McKay said, "don't vote for candidates who take money from big banks, oil, or weirdo billionaires." Nice line! He could have made it more succinct just by naming the Koch Brothers, though, who've said they will spent close to $900 million on this campaign. In Hollywood that only funds a handful of movies. But in politics, that's still real money. Does it get any more "weirdo" than brothers whose family fortune was made by an ultra-conservative father involved in Stalin's First Five-Year Plan? Let's hope McKay keeps talking.

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Jailed for being homeless

On an overcast autumn morning, 21-year-old Joey Fiala sits on a sprawl of sleeping bags and blankets, watching Colorado’s prolonged summer yield to winter. Fiala, originally from Kansas City, Missouri, is among a group of homeless people who gather most days in Jefferson Park on the north end of the Old Town Square section in Fort Collins. Here, a grassy lot sidles up to a busy railroad track and serves as a sort of daytime rest stop for folks without shelter. The men and women socialize and sneak catnaps in between hustling for cash and shuttling around the community to make use of its spread-out resources. When night falls, however, residents without shelter rush to get out of sight. Groups disperse and individuals head off in pairs or on their own. Ray Lyall, 57, homeless for two years, has worked with Denver Homeless Out Loud (DHOL) for the past 22 months. He was arrested on October 24, along with others working on DHOL’s Tiny Homes project. Since he was released from jail, he has been camping with a group at a site in Denver at 26th and Lawrence Streets, which was raided on December 3. Lyall says the camping ban is used to target people sleeping outside and give tickets for other offenses. “Can’t have anything under or over you,” he says, explaining the camping ban. “I can lay in the freezing snow but I can’t have anything on my back.” Fort Collins, a college town at the base of the Rocky Mountain foothills, prohibits practices such as loitering, “misuse of public waters,” and “camping or pitching a tent without permission.” Being homeless here necessitates invisibility, and consequently, isolation. Things that offer safety and even comfort at night—tents or multi-person encampments—make hiding difficult, and often land homeless people in jail. “I’ve been to jail twice for camping,” Fiala says between swigs of coffee and bites of a doughnut, pulling his jacket tight around his small frame. “I’ve been in for camping and for trespassing,” chimes in Steve, who doesn’t give his last name. A dad with a perfect goatee and cheeks rosy from the incoming chill, Steve hesitates to offer more. But others in the group nod in agreement. “Yeah, I got ticketed twice for sleeping under the Linden Street Bridge,” Fiala says, jumping back in. “I was sick, sleeping on a mattress under the bridge, and they woke me up and gave me a ticket. I balled it up and threw it in their face. ‘F— you! I’m not gonna pay that. I can’t pay that.’ So I ended up in jail for failure to appear.” Recent years have seen a surge of policing efforts throughout Colorado targeting those without shelter. Numerous communities have banned panhandling, camping, or sleeping in cars on public property. Loitering and trespassing laws prevent homeless individuals from having a safe place to rest—or options for washing up or using a bathroom. Violators face fines of $100 or more, an expense that quickly adds up for repeat offenders, landing many with warrants and, eventually, jail time. (Officials in Fort Collins have said they are looking into proposals that would allow people to sleep outside in certain places.) According to the 2015 report “No Right to Rest: Criminalizing Homeless in Colorado,” more than half of the state’s homeless population has been in jail for minor infractions. Fiala has been homeless about three years, or pretty much his entire adult life. When he first moved to Fort Collins with his then-girlfriend, they slept in their car. “But,” he sputters, in sequential bursts of frustration, “she cheated on me….She wrecked [our car].” He dunks a doughnut in his rapidly cooling cup of coffee and shudders. “You got a cigarette?” Wes Hammond, a middle-aged man who has been listening quietly, suddenly plunges into the exchange. Hammond has been homeless on and off for much of his life. Born in Kentucky, he lived briefly in Tennessee before heading west. “I hitchhiked for three days to Colorado and this guy picked me up, asked if I wanted to work on a ranch,” he says. “So I did, up in the mountains, but I got tired of that, so I built a bike and I rode it off that mountain.” He arrived in Fort Collins in 2010, initially finding stability in a relationship. When that “blew up” a year ago, he found himself back on the streets. “I’ve had three camping tickets, two trespassing tickets, open container, parks violation, and urinating in public,” he claims. “My fines come to $2,009….I just got out of jail last night. Just one night this time. Failure to appear. Tacked on a $50 fine.” He takes a drag off the spliff that’s been floating around the circle and shakes his head ruefully. “I won’t be able to pay it. And all my stuff’s there at the police station. I can’t get to it.” Steve, eyeing the joint, chimes in once more. “You better be careful with that. We may be in Colorado, but our house doesn’t have any walls,” he says, referring to the state’s legalization of marijuana use in private, but not in public spaces. As with open alcohol containers and intoxication, smoking cannabis is permitted only for those with the means to do so behind some sort of closed door. Individuals who lack shelter automatically miss out on key benefits afforded by seclusion. The very invisibility they seek when scattering at night is almost impossible to come by without the security of a safe and private place to rest. * * * Almost 70 miles away in Denver, it’s a very different scene at a not-so-different park. On the night of October 24, 2015, a group of homeless individuals and their supporters planted themselves in Sustainability Park. Led by Denver Homeless Out Loud (DHOL), a grassroots activist organization, the volunteers had spent several days building “a tiny-home village to be occupied and managed by houseless people.” The U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development estimated that nearly 10,000 Coloradans were homeless on a given night in January 2015. Advocates note that these point-in-time surveys—volunteers attempt to count individuals in shelters and on the streets on a single night—tend to result in drastic underestimates. The methods make it easy to “miss” those who are homeless short term, temporarily institutionalized, doubled-up with friends, not engaged with resources, or effectively hidden from authorities. However, the numbers do tell us that, while national homelessness has declined since 2013, in Colorado it has remained steady, even seeing a slight increase. More specifically, Denver’s point-in-time data show a consistent upward trend in metro-area homelessness since 2011, from 3,007 to 3,978. According to the “No Right to Rest” report, “shelter beds are available for only about 10%” of Denver’s homeless population. Nonetheless, Denver and other jurisdictions across the state continue to propose bills and implement policies that make it more difficult to survive on the streets. Denver has not only banned camping but also the use of a variety of items for shelter, including tents, cardboard, and newspapers. In the midst of this citywide dearth of affordable housing, DHOL’s tiny homes were designed to provide much-needed shelter. But when 70 police officers, including a SWAT team, descended, Resurrection Village quickly became a protest site. Police confiscated the tiny homes and as people scattered, 10 were arrested, including DHOL volunteer Ray Lyall. Originally from California, Lyall moved to Colorado in the 1980s to be closer to family and get a fresh start. Now 57, he has been homeless since a botched construction deal two years ago left him unable to pay rent. Lyall finds the city’s shelters too loud, too dirty, and too full of drama to rest; he prefers to sleep outside. Lyall’s arrest for trying to live in Resurrection Village racked up consequences of its own. “I was the last one out of jail,” he says. “I had to go to court three days after I got out of jail and I’ve gotta go to court again next week and it’s gonna last a long time…$25 for a public defender, $25 for a jury trial, and they’re gonna have to waive it. I’ve told everybody possible, ‘I’m homeless. I have no money.’ If they wanna say I can’t have a jury trial, great. That’ll look better for me. I’m homeless so I can’t have a jury trial. I can’t afford your system.” * * * According to the National Law Center on Homelessness & Poverty, three-quarters of homeless people in the United States don’t know of a safe and legal place to sleep. With few, often inadequate, beds to meet the growing need, homeless residents by default carry the double burden of being poor and being criminal. In places like Fort Collins, where a 2015 point-in-time survey revealed a 4 percent rise in homelessness, if they can’t stay out of sight, they will be ticketed. Since most are unable to afford the sanctions, tickets equal jail time. “The thing is, they’ll always take you [to jail] because you can’t pay the fines,” says Joey Fiala. And though Fort Collins has taken steps to reduce the consequences of the legislation that criminalizes homelessness, some worry these approaches gloss over the real problem. A year ago, the Municipal Court introduced Special Agency sessions to address so-called “quality of life violations” in a “compassionate, resourceful manner.” Homeless defendants charged with various offenses may be referred for alternative sentencing. But Fort Collins Homeless Coalition’s Cheryl Distaso argues, “This erases the question of whether or not that person should even have gotten a ticket in the first place.” Two days before Thanksgiving, Michael “Miguel” Wheeler serves dinner at Jefferson Park, as he has nearly every Tuesday since getting off the streets himself. The lawn bustles all afternoon with chatter and laughter as homeless folks fill their bellies, sip hot coffee, and stock up on brand new socks. But once darkness descends, people ready to head their separate ways for the night. A young couple turns north, starting the several-mile march beyond city limits, where it’s legal to pitch a tent if you avoid private property. Old-timers who’ve been living outside for decades attach loaded-down carts to rusty bicycles—houses on wheels. Others seem to disappear into the fading light of dusk. Invisible. “When the sun goes down, it’s time to go to sleep,” Fiala says. Still, he adds, “every time they find us, they’re gonna give a ticket.”

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I believe in full equality, but I’ve spent too long watching women play the victim

No one would argue that the position of women has not improved during the last few decades, at least in the West. It is similarly impossible to deny that there is still a long way to go to full equality: even in the countries with the most legal protections for women, shocking numbers of women are still being raped, beaten up and sometimes killed by abusive men. At work, women are still victims of sexual harassment, and they still earn less than a man for the same work--these are the facts.

But, here’s the good news (for women): By stopping in the middle of the bridge to full equality, women are sometimes able to invoke both sexist stereotypes and feminist ideals. In other words, to play–and win–on both sides: to take full advantage of gender-based laws designed to protect women’s safety and equality, while still reverting, when it’s convenient, to long-standing social mores that grant women special treatment.

For women today, it’s possible to echo the zero-tolerance tone being set by the media and whistle-blowing Twittersphere, while still participating in reactionary behavior--playing the role of helpless creatures in need of protection, or innocent victims—and playing it to our advantage.

This realization came to me long ago, when, before becoming a writer, I was studying to become an engineer. I was very good in math and physics and successfully passed entry exams to a highly selective and renowned engineering school in Paris. It was the very beginning of the 1980s, when it was rare to see women embracing and succeeding in such a career; if I recall correctly, we were no more than eight or 10 women among more than a hundred men.

Thrown into this unusual environment, I soon realized that in a way, I could have my cake and eat it too. In this prestigious program, no one would have dared put in doubt my intelligence and abilities, yet men were still holding doors for me, complimenting me on my looks and inviting me to restaurants. It was lovely and I enjoyed it very much. For me, it felt like I could have it both ways: respect as an equal, and yet special treatment as a woman.

I thought at the time that the battle for equality was over. We’d won. All my male friends were feminists, we had won the right to birth control, we were free to pursue careers in all fields, or become mothers, or both. I could hitchhike across France by myself, racing my boyfriend,  and win, because drivers, both men and women, would still stop for a woman far more often than for a man -- what more was there to ask?

Then something happened. I felt relationships between men and women hardened again as a new kind of feminism appeared, the one described and criticized by Elisabeth Badinter in a book that deeply impressed me, called "Fausse Route" (Dead End Feminism).  Far from Simone de Beauvoir’s universalism, this “new” kind of feminism (often referred to as “essentialist”) not only claimed for women equal rights, but additional rights, female-only rights. And the cult of victimhood combined with a refusal to raise the question of female violence and abuse of power (in the name of a statistical asymmetry) made it now possible – and even pretty easy -- for a woman to turn a man’s life into a nightmare if only she wanted to.

At one point, I even observed this in my own life. While I could see how my female friends and I were making huge progress in the professional realm toward equality, I also witnessed several of my male friends go through very difficult times in their personal lives as a result of this double standard. One of them, happily married, had become suddenly very successful in business when, out of the blue, he received a phone call from a woman with whom he had had a casual relationship years before, telling him he was the father of her 8-year-old daughter. She asked him for financial support, which he gave, despite the strain this situation was putting on his marriage, only to discover years later through a DNA test that he was, in fact, not the biological father of that child.

Another one of my friends went through a painful divorce, and endured a battle to obtain shared custody of his three kids, whom he adored. In an accusation that seemed ludicrous to those who knew him, his ex-wife accused him of mistreating the children. We were horrified to see how the judge (a woman, as is usually the case in the courts dedicated to family issues in France) gave her claims more than the benefit of the doubt, even though her assertions were totally--and evidently to everyone else but the judge--unfounded.

False accusations aside, the undivided power over procreation held by women for some 40 years now, although legitimate,  can turn into a gigantic abuse of power that remains largely shrouded in secrecy. I couldn’t believe my ears the day my friend François confided to me that he always carried his own condoms with him, and would never trust one offered to him by his female partner when about to have sex. Horror stories about women secretly piercing contraceptives with a needle in order to get pregnant without their partner’s consent are hard to believe, but the simple fact that they’re circulating among men tell a lot about how vulnerable those men feel. From where, exactly, does this vulnerability arise?

I had this theme in mind when I started to write "Couple Mechanics," which tells the story of a couple navigating the aftermath of the husband’s affair. My initial project was to somehow rewrite "The Woman Destroyed" by Simone de Beauvoir, some 50 years later, but even more, by doing so,to address the whole spectrum of gender-based violence in the world today—male-on-female and female-on-male.

In "Couple Mechanics" the character of Juliette (the wife) is the personification of all the positive achievements of feminism in the past few decades: She is the dedicated mother of two young kids and yet works full-time, earns more money than her husband does, etc., while Victoire (the mistress) is an ambitious politician who embodies this “halfway” moment in feminism, and intends very consciously to take full advantage of it.

The husband’s character, Olivier, on the other hand, appears to have all the qualities that feminists demand in a man: Although he is also working—as a journalist—he washes the dishes, is a loving and attentive father who shares childcare duties, and would never be physically violent to anyone, least of all a woman. His central motivation is to avoid hurting anybody. These motivations combine to make Juliette’s life a living hell when, after the affair is exposed and Olivier agrees to end the affair, Victoire responds with violent fits of rage and threats of suicide.

When "Couple Mechanics" was published in France, and my first readers’ reactions started to come in, I was surprised, then amused, then slightly irritated to see how severely they responded toward Olivier’s character. Strangely, readers didn’t see so much the critique the cruelly manipulative tactics and the bad faith of Victoire. Instead, most people pointed out Olivier’s weakness and cowardice. For many of my readers, when Olivier told his wife the whole truth of his affair, he was being insensitive and unnecessarily brutal; when he hid things from her to protect her, he was a liar; when he acted out of fear that Victoire might put her threats into action and kill herself if he didn’t comply with her demands, he was just being . . . an idiot. Had he acted as if he didn’t care about what happened to Victoire, he would have been called a monster and a brute. In other words, he could do nothing right. Even the men who largely identified with poor Olivier were very hard on him. For that’s the trick:  men – we’re talking here about evolved, nice, caring men of course, not the macho,  Neanderthal type – most men have so well internalized that they are the bad guys that they will themselves willingly plead guilty for all faults they’re being accused of. The bottom line being that everybody – men and women alike – still and always like to think of women as victims.

All of that said, you might be wondering if I still consider myself a feminist? Yes, I do, very much so. And it is as a feminist, in the name of all the women who are abused, raped and forced to become mothers against their will, that I feel personally offended when a woman turns a man into a father without his consent, or deprives a loving father from his children, or falsely accuses a man of violence against her, or emotionally blackmails him. False victims, says Juliette in "Couple Mechanics," are the worst enemies of real ones.

No one would argue that the position of women has not improved during the last few decades, at least in the West. It is similarly impossible to deny that there is still a long way to go to full equality: even in the countries with the most legal protections for women, shocking numbers of women are still being raped, beaten up and sometimes killed by abusive men. At work, women are still victims of sexual harassment, and they still earn less than a man for the same work--these are the facts.

But, here’s the good news (for women): By stopping in the middle of the bridge to full equality, women are sometimes able to invoke both sexist stereotypes and feminist ideals. In other words, to play–and win–on both sides: to take full advantage of gender-based laws designed to protect women’s safety and equality, while still reverting, when it’s convenient, to long-standing social mores that grant women special treatment.

For women today, it’s possible to echo the zero-tolerance tone being set by the media and whistle-blowing Twittersphere, while still participating in reactionary behavior--playing the role of helpless creatures in need of protection, or innocent victims—and playing it to our advantage.

This realization came to me long ago, when, before becoming a writer, I was studying to become an engineer. I was very good in math and physics and successfully passed entry exams to a highly selective and renowned engineering school in Paris. It was the very beginning of the 1980s, when it was rare to see women embracing and succeeding in such a career; if I recall correctly, we were no more than eight or 10 women among more than a hundred men.

Thrown into this unusual environment, I soon realized that in a way, I could have my cake and eat it too. In this prestigious program, no one would have dared put in doubt my intelligence and abilities, yet men were still holding doors for me, complimenting me on my looks and inviting me to restaurants. It was lovely and I enjoyed it very much. For me, it felt like I could have it both ways: respect as an equal, and yet special treatment as a woman.

I thought at the time that the battle for equality was over. We’d won. All my male friends were feminists, we had won the right to birth control, we were free to pursue careers in all fields, or become mothers, or both. I could hitchhike across France by myself, racing my boyfriend,  and win, because drivers, both men and women, would still stop for a woman far more often than for a man -- what more was there to ask?

Then something happened. I felt relationships between men and women hardened again as a new kind of feminism appeared, the one described and criticized by Elisabeth Badinter in a book that deeply impressed me, called "Fausse Route" (Dead End Feminism).  Far from Simone de Beauvoir’s universalism, this “new” kind of feminism (often referred to as “essentialist”) not only claimed for women equal rights, but additional rights, female-only rights. And the cult of victimhood combined with a refusal to raise the question of female violence and abuse of power (in the name of a statistical asymmetry) made it now possible – and even pretty easy -- for a woman to turn a man’s life into a nightmare if only she wanted to.

At one point, I even observed this in my own life. While I could see how my female friends and I were making huge progress in the professional realm toward equality, I also witnessed several of my male friends go through very difficult times in their personal lives as a result of this double standard. One of them, happily married, had become suddenly very successful in business when, out of the blue, he received a phone call from a woman with whom he had had a casual relationship years before, telling him he was the father of her 8-year-old daughter. She asked him for financial support, which he gave, despite the strain this situation was putting on his marriage, only to discover years later through a DNA test that he was, in fact, not the biological father of that child.

Another one of my friends went through a painful divorce, and endured a battle to obtain shared custody of his three kids, whom he adored. In an accusation that seemed ludicrous to those who knew him, his ex-wife accused him of mistreating the children. We were horrified to see how the judge (a woman, as is usually the case in the courts dedicated to family issues in France) gave her claims more than the benefit of the doubt, even though her assertions were totally--and evidently to everyone else but the judge--unfounded.

False accusations aside, the undivided power over procreation held by women for some 40 years now, although legitimate,  can turn into a gigantic abuse of power that remains largely shrouded in secrecy. I couldn’t believe my ears the day my friend François confided to me that he always carried his own condoms with him, and would never trust one offered to him by his female partner when about to have sex. Horror stories about women secretly piercing contraceptives with a needle in order to get pregnant without their partner’s consent are hard to believe, but the simple fact that they’re circulating among men tell a lot about how vulnerable those men feel. From where, exactly, does this vulnerability arise?

I had this theme in mind when I started to write "Couple Mechanics," which tells the story of a couple navigating the aftermath of the husband’s affair. My initial project was to somehow rewrite "The Woman Destroyed" by Simone de Beauvoir, some 50 years later, but even more, by doing so,to address the whole spectrum of gender-based violence in the world today—male-on-female and female-on-male.

In "Couple Mechanics" the character of Juliette (the wife) is the personification of all the positive achievements of feminism in the past few decades: She is the dedicated mother of two young kids and yet works full-time, earns more money than her husband does, etc., while Victoire (the mistress) is an ambitious politician who embodies this “halfway” moment in feminism, and intends very consciously to take full advantage of it.

The husband’s character, Olivier, on the other hand, appears to have all the qualities that feminists demand in a man: Although he is also working—as a journalist—he washes the dishes, is a loving and attentive father who shares childcare duties, and would never be physically violent to anyone, least of all a woman. His central motivation is to avoid hurting anybody. These motivations combine to make Juliette’s life a living hell when, after the affair is exposed and Olivier agrees to end the affair, Victoire responds with violent fits of rage and threats of suicide.

When "Couple Mechanics" was published in France, and my first readers’ reactions started to come in, I was surprised, then amused, then slightly irritated to see how severely they responded toward Olivier’s character. Strangely, readers didn’t see so much the critique the cruelly manipulative tactics and the bad faith of Victoire. Instead, most people pointed out Olivier’s weakness and cowardice. For many of my readers, when Olivier told his wife the whole truth of his affair, he was being insensitive and unnecessarily brutal; when he hid things from her to protect her, he was a liar; when he acted out of fear that Victoire might put her threats into action and kill herself if he didn’t comply with her demands, he was just being . . . an idiot. Had he acted as if he didn’t care about what happened to Victoire, he would have been called a monster and a brute. In other words, he could do nothing right. Even the men who largely identified with poor Olivier were very hard on him. For that’s the trick:  men – we’re talking here about evolved, nice, caring men of course, not the macho,  Neanderthal type – most men have so well internalized that they are the bad guys that they will themselves willingly plead guilty for all faults they’re being accused of. The bottom line being that everybody – men and women alike – still and always like to think of women as victims.

All of that said, you might be wondering if I still consider myself a feminist? Yes, I do, very much so. And it is as a feminist, in the name of all the women who are abused, raped and forced to become mothers against their will, that I feel personally offended when a woman turns a man into a father without his consent, or deprives a loving father from his children, or falsely accuses a man of violence against her, or emotionally blackmails him. False victims, says Juliette in "Couple Mechanics," are the worst enemies of real ones.

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Facebook’s shameless “colonial” ambitions: Why its aggressive play for Indian users was rightfully banned

There’s a crackdown on free speech happening right now in a country that delights in calling itself the world’s biggest democracy. Last week, more than 2,500 students at Jawaharlal Nehru University (JNU) in New Delhi, India, a school known for its progressive politics and high levels of student engagement, protested the arrest of their Student Union president Kanhaiya Kumar. Kumar was detained for protesting the Indian government’s actions in Kashmir, an occupied state that is the crux of much conflict between India, Pakistan and Kashmiris who seek independence. The arrest brought more than 10,00 people to march in support of Kumar and other JNU students' right to protest in New Delhi last Thursday. Kumar was arrested after speaking at a public meeting held on the anniversary of the controversial 2013 execution of Mohammed Afzal Guru. After that meeting, Kumar gave a speech railing against the forces of  Hindu nationalism in general, and Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) in particular. The BJP is an important ideological force seeking to shape India with Hindu nationalism, or Hindutva. The political philosophy calls for Hindu religious and cultural dominance in one of the most diverse countries in the world. Modi has married his own brand of Hindutva with aggressively pro-corporate policies that pave the way for multinational corporations to enter India, further cementing a vast wealth gap in a country where 830 million people live on less than 20 rupees (or half a dollar) each day. In the speech that led to his detention, Kumar took on poverty head on, saying, “We don’t need a patriotism certificate. We love this country.” From a poor, working-class background himself, Kumar noted: “We fight for the 80% poor population of this country.” The sedition law that Kumar was arrested under was, in fact, a vestige of the country’s colonial era.  It was instituted to prevent anti-colonial resistance, prohibiting Indians from doing anything that might incite “disaffection” toward the government. Gandhi himself was arrested under this law for his actions during India’s Independence Movement. In the years of BJP control it has been used to detain those that challenge the Indian government. This reprisal of colonial tactics by the Indian government is particularly ironic given the recent remarks made by a board member of Facebook, just a few days before protests erupted at JNU. After Facebook’s Free Basics platform was banned in India, a member of Facebook’s board of directors, the venture capitalist Marc Andreessen, expressed his disapproval with a tweet, saying, “Anti-colonialism has been economically catastrophic for the Indian people for decades. Why stop now?” The depth and breadth of misunderstanding, racism and historical naiveté captured in that tweet (which has been deleted and apologized for) is stunning. The Free Basics platform is touted by Facebook as a way to help people connect to the Internet for the first time. It offers a simple and limited version of the mobile Web app, and people can use it without it counting toward their data-usage limit. Facebook bills this as a potential game-changer for a country where so many millions don't have access to the Internet at all. Many Indians rejected the platform, arguing that instead of creating fair access to the Internet, Free Basics positions Facebook as the gatekeeper to Internet access for many in India by luring in people all over the country with the promise of free access, rather simply creating access for the poor. This way Facebook becomes the sole Internet provider for millions of Indians, gaining access to all their data and securing for themselves new users with no other option for Internet access. Facebook decides what the Internet will be, which platforms are supported, and which will not be. The central tenet of Internet freedom, an open Web, is lost. The resistance to Free Basics was rooted in a mistrust of the platform specifically because of its colonial structure. “I see the project as both colonialist and deceptive,” Ethan Zuckerman, the director of the MIT Center for Civic Media, told the Atlantic. “It tries to solve a problem it doesn’t understand, but it doesn’t need to understand the problem because it already knows the solution. The solution conveniently helps lock in Facebook as the dominant platform for the future at a moment when growth in developed markets is slowing.” Andreessen’s tweet captured precisely the kind of dangerous Internet-as-freedom narrative that the students at JNU protest regularly. Importantly, these incidents -- the violence against student protesters and the ignorance of the Western stalwarts of Internet access -- are useful as counterpoints to each other. The legacy of India’s colonization lives in the spaces within and between them. For one, there is the warped notion that colonization was at all beneficial to the people or countries colonized. In 2003, on the eve of the war in Afghanistan, Edward Said wrote in the Los Angeles Times, “Every empire, however, tells itself and the world that it is unlike all other empires, that its mission is not to plunder and control but to educate and liberate." Further, the impacts of colonization are far-ranging and not bound by the constraints of time, it seems. Modi’s government is using, with almost no compunction, the laws and ideologies left for them by the British Colonial rulers. Divide communities in order to control them, better if you make them hate each other. Rely on caste and class to help you do this. Squash dissent mercilessly. And work day and night to convince your people that if they just give up their liberties to you, they will finally cease to be poor. The protests at JNU this week are vital resistance to this strategy --  they are the counterpoint to the the paternalist, xenophobic narrative of the Modi government and the BJP. They are resisting the criminalization of dissent, pushing their government to live up to the democracy they so often extoll. Many of us around the world are standing with them. Eesha Pandit is a writer and activist based in Houston. You can follow her on twitter at @EeshaP , and find out more about her work at eeshapandit.com .There’s a crackdown on free speech happening right now in a country that delights in calling itself the world’s biggest democracy. Last week, more than 2,500 students at Jawaharlal Nehru University (JNU) in New Delhi, India, a school known for its progressive politics and high levels of student engagement, protested the arrest of their Student Union president Kanhaiya Kumar. Kumar was detained for protesting the Indian government’s actions in Kashmir, an occupied state that is the crux of much conflict between India, Pakistan and Kashmiris who seek independence. The arrest brought more than 10,00 people to march in support of Kumar and other JNU students' right to protest in New Delhi last Thursday. Kumar was arrested after speaking at a public meeting held on the anniversary of the controversial 2013 execution of Mohammed Afzal Guru. After that meeting, Kumar gave a speech railing against the forces of  Hindu nationalism in general, and Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) in particular. The BJP is an important ideological force seeking to shape India with Hindu nationalism, or Hindutva. The political philosophy calls for Hindu religious and cultural dominance in one of the most diverse countries in the world. Modi has married his own brand of Hindutva with aggressively pro-corporate policies that pave the way for multinational corporations to enter India, further cementing a vast wealth gap in a country where 830 million people live on less than 20 rupees (or half a dollar) each day. In the speech that led to his detention, Kumar took on poverty head on, saying, “We don’t need a patriotism certificate. We love this country.” From a poor, working-class background himself, Kumar noted: “We fight for the 80% poor population of this country.” The sedition law that Kumar was arrested under was, in fact, a vestige of the country’s colonial era.  It was instituted to prevent anti-colonial resistance, prohibiting Indians from doing anything that might incite “disaffection” toward the government. Gandhi himself was arrested under this law for his actions during India’s Independence Movement. In the years of BJP control it has been used to detain those that challenge the Indian government. This reprisal of colonial tactics by the Indian government is particularly ironic given the recent remarks made by a board member of Facebook, just a few days before protests erupted at JNU. After Facebook’s Free Basics platform was banned in India, a member of Facebook’s board of directors, the venture capitalist Marc Andreessen, expressed his disapproval with a tweet, saying, “Anti-colonialism has been economically catastrophic for the Indian people for decades. Why stop now?” The depth and breadth of misunderstanding, racism and historical naiveté captured in that tweet (which has been deleted and apologized for) is stunning. The Free Basics platform is touted by Facebook as a way to help people connect to the Internet for the first time. It offers a simple and limited version of the mobile Web app, and people can use it without it counting toward their data-usage limit. Facebook bills this as a potential game-changer for a country where so many millions don't have access to the Internet at all. Many Indians rejected the platform, arguing that instead of creating fair access to the Internet, Free Basics positions Facebook as the gatekeeper to Internet access for many in India by luring in people all over the country with the promise of free access, rather simply creating access for the poor. This way Facebook becomes the sole Internet provider for millions of Indians, gaining access to all their data and securing for themselves new users with no other option for Internet access. Facebook decides what the Internet will be, which platforms are supported, and which will not be. The central tenet of Internet freedom, an open Web, is lost. The resistance to Free Basics was rooted in a mistrust of the platform specifically because of its colonial structure. “I see the project as both colonialist and deceptive,” Ethan Zuckerman, the director of the MIT Center for Civic Media, told the Atlantic. “It tries to solve a problem it doesn’t understand, but it doesn’t need to understand the problem because it already knows the solution. The solution conveniently helps lock in Facebook as the dominant platform for the future at a moment when growth in developed markets is slowing.” Andreessen’s tweet captured precisely the kind of dangerous Internet-as-freedom narrative that the students at JNU protest regularly. Importantly, these incidents -- the violence against student protesters and the ignorance of the Western stalwarts of Internet access -- are useful as counterpoints to each other. The legacy of India’s colonization lives in the spaces within and between them. For one, there is the warped notion that colonization was at all beneficial to the people or countries colonized. In 2003, on the eve of the war in Afghanistan, Edward Said wrote in the Los Angeles Times, “Every empire, however, tells itself and the world that it is unlike all other empires, that its mission is not to plunder and control but to educate and liberate." Further, the impacts of colonization are far-ranging and not bound by the constraints of time, it seems. Modi’s government is using, with almost no compunction, the laws and ideologies left for them by the British Colonial rulers. Divide communities in order to control them, better if you make them hate each other. Rely on caste and class to help you do this. Squash dissent mercilessly. And work day and night to convince your people that if they just give up their liberties to you, they will finally cease to be poor. The protests at JNU this week are vital resistance to this strategy --  they are the counterpoint to the the paternalist, xenophobic narrative of the Modi government and the BJP. They are resisting the criminalization of dissent, pushing their government to live up to the democracy they so often extoll. Many of us around the world are standing with them. Eesha Pandit is a writer and activist based in Houston. You can follow her on twitter at @EeshaP , and find out more about her work at eeshapandit.com .

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Blue in a red state: Learning to confront, conform to or otherwise navigate your neighbors’ right-wing reality

Lisa in Waukesha, Wisconsin, has two Facebook accounts. One reflects her liberal politics; the other is for acquaintances and family members to whom Lisa shows only her cat photos. Christina, in Milford, Massachusetts, has a sign in the back window of her car proclaiming support for a Democratic candidate. But as soon as she parks in the company lot, she puts it facedown on the backseat. Byron has lived in the same small town of Pomeroy, Iowa—population 662—his entire life. He brings his partner to family dinners but has never actually said to his conservative sister that he’s gay. Lisa, Christina, and Byron are “blues in red states”—liberals who live in conservative communities that exist in every state, Republican or Democratic-leaning, across America. They and people like them are constantly reminded they aren’t quite like everyone else: from the churches they do or don’t attend, to their purchases and media preferences, to their loyalties at the ballot box. On a daily basis, liberals who have made homes, formed friendships, and participated in the civic life of conservative towns and cities are confronted with unsettling reminders that they’re different, and they’ve found myriad ways to take that truth in stride. On some occasions, it’s best to say as little as possible. Chris in Cincinnati, Ohio, is quick to talk liberalism—except when he’s hanging out with his ice hockey team. Spike in Sandia Park, New Mexico, and Dean in Pawleys Island, South Carolina, are both white men in their sixties who often hear off hand right-wing comments from people who assume they are conservative, and then have to determine whether it’s worth speaking up. Diane in Fairbanks, Alaska, occasionally talks politics with her neighbors but never lets it get too heated—she’s always mindful she might need that neighbor to dig her out of the next big storm. Some might call this strategy “passing”—going undercover, by conscious deception or simple omission, to blend into conservative surroundings, staying quiet through sticky moments, or deftly navigating around political minefields in one’s neighborhood or workplace. But in some instances, it becomes too hard to stay quiet. Susannah in Kalispell, Montana, has had to interrupt the conversation of her quilting group when it’s veered too far to the right—whether debating government policy about wolves or discussing Native Americans. Rita, in Pawleys Island, South Carolina, mentioned to one of the members of her water aerobics club that the prayer before their post-practice lunch made her uncomfortable (at their next lunch, the women prayed while Rita was in the bathroom). Lenzi in Austin, Texas, asked her law school classmates not to use the word “retarded”—and was reprimanded by her professor as a result. Byron doesn’t like to stir up any controversy in his bar but found he had to say something as regulars muttered racial slurs. Coming out as a liberal happens when it’s important to stand up for liberal values even momentarily, in situations where remaining silent would feel complicit. Here and there, liberals living out of their element sometimes feel a need to lean into their politics—boasting a yard sign on a conservative block, offering a divergent point of view at a cordial meal—and then lean away just as quickly for the sake of civility and stability. And at other times, there’s no choice but to make a scene. When Desmond visited a comedy club on a trip home to Tuscaloosa, Alabama, he was so stunned by the performer’s homophobic comments that he piped up in the middle of the set. Dan in Idaho Falls, Idaho, questions his children’s science teachers about evolution—letting them apologize for teaching “that theory” before he reveals he’s a scientist who is in favor of a reality-based curriculum. Such moments call for unapologetic pride in one’s political perspective. At these junctures, liberals living in conservative areas wear their true colors, launching the long-shot local campaign, marching in pride parades, striking up conversations to convince their conservative acquaintances, calling out homophobia, racism, or sexism, or even running for office. At the same time, liberals often cope with and find comfort in their conservative surroundings by seeking out their tribe. Dan of Idaho Falls has started an atheist society. Desmond discovered a local theater group while growing up in Tuscaloosa. Even in the most isolated moments, Joe of Brandon, Florida, can still consume progressive blogs and podcasts. Chris of Yankton, South Dakota, streams left-leaning radio shows daily. However, whether they find their kindred spirits in small clusters or online, when these liberals walk out their doors, they come face-to-face with—and need to learn to confront, conform to, or otherwise navigate—their right-wing reality: TVs in local venues are tuned to Fox News. Co-workers can quote Rush Limbaugh. Anti-Obama comments are rife, made as a casual matter of fact, often ignorant and sometimes crossing the line to racist. Neighbors and colleagues assume that everyone attends church, and some are suspicious of those who don’t. The same assumptions are made about gun ownership. In these settings, being liberal can be challenging and it can be frightening. As one woman in Oklahoma City confessed, before she found other liberals she could talk with who gave her confidence, she would have been too nervous to “come out of the closet as a liberal.” And this isn’t just liberal paranoia: a conservative Mormon in Salt Lake City, Utah, explained that she had become disgusted with the venomous rhetoric of the Republicans in her state and it pushed her to meet some liberals. When she finally did, she recounted in total seriousness, “The first thing I learned was that they didn’t want to kill babies.” No wonder so many liberals, in such areas, feel out of place. But as many of them have discovered, they don’t have to give up their politics or give up their homes. Like all of nature’s creatures, they can adapt: they learn when to push their politics and when to put politics aside in order to form meaningful connections with neighbors despite differences. They learn to tap into values that run deeper than party affiliation. They find ways to share community happiness, which is key to daily survival, through a mix of coping, cajoling, and conquering, a balancing act of fight and flight, and knowing when it’s worth engaging, or when happiness relies on disengagement. A few blues in red states ultimately find they cannot exist comfortably as lone outposts of liberalism and choose to leave. They pick up from their conservative settings and find their way to college towns and state capitals, coastal metropolises and diverse big cities, where many liberals feel more naturally at home. But for the many liberals who stay put, the key to happiness is not in choosing which type of liberal to be—but in developing a rich array of coping mechanisms, “code-switching” among all the approaches. Knowing when to escape inward and when to escape outward, when to find strange bedfellows, or when to let good fences make good neighbors, helps even the most true-blue liberal survive and thrive in deep-red pockets of America. In an increasingly crowded, urbanized, and multicultural country, blues in red states provide lessons in coping and civility that can benefit all of us. How can we talk meaningfully and respectfully to our neighbors, even when they differ from us? How can we find common ground sturdier than daily turmoil? How can we communicate thoughtfully and share our values, one conversation at a time? We live in an era when Facebook and other social media increasingly tell us what we want to hear and share with us content that affirms—rather than challenges—our beliefs. More and more of the media we consume is nationally accessible— conservatives in Vermont can listen to Glenn Beck and Sean Hannity as easily as liberals in Texas can find Amy Goodman and Rachel Maddow. Whether one clicks over to the Drudge Report and RedState or to Alternet and Daily Kos, Americans can choose online news and opinion that make them feel at home. And yet, the virtual world has its limits—and we find ourselves interacting on a daily basis with people whom we can’t always choose as easily as we click on a link, and can’t shut out as quickly as we close a browser window. Liberals in conservative areas forge relationships with people of different political views all the time. Sometimes, they are able to persuade someone to accept a more progressive perspective. Sometimes, they find common ground over lifestyles or values that run deeper than politics. And occasionally—though rarely—they even find themselves agreeing with a conservative point of view. These liberals keep up the pressure for progress in the most intimidating surroundings. They voice unpopular but necessary views. They live side by side with many Americans who don’t strongly identify with any political label and are the most potentially persuadable. And they also put a friendly face on “liberalism”—making it harder for conservatives to demonize them, just as liberals need to remember not to demonize those with politics at the other end of the spectrum. My own life geography has been solidly blue: I was raised in a Democratic small town in New Jersey; attended college in Cambridge, Massachusetts; then made my life in New York City. I live close to independent bookstores and movie theaters, our neighborhood has curbside composting, and my wife and I belong to a food co-op. I’m a white, heterosexual male. It’s been easy being a liberal. Then a little more than a decade ago, a friend and I started a club called Drinking Liberally. It was 2003, during the dark days of the Bush administration. Our nation had just entered a war we shouldn’t have been in, Americans were being warned by the White House to “watch what you say,” and there was a sense that we lacked liberal leadership and liberal community. So we started gathering at a bar each week to talk politics with fellow progressives—to learn, share, vent, and organize. The idea took off and within a few years Drinking Liberally was everywhere. It quickly made the leap from progressive areas, where it was a fun social networking opportunity, to conservative areas, where it was a lifeline for liberals who otherwise felt politically isolated. It has grown into a network of hundreds of chapters. As exciting as Drinking Liberally was to my friends and me, it was even more critical to folks in red states who needed to know they weren’t alone. Over the decade since, I’ve had the chance to visit the more than seventy-five chapters of Drinking Liberally, which now exists in almost every state. From thousands of conversations, I’ve seen that, despite regional differences and habits, there is a core to liberalism that runs nationwide. Those who call themselves liberal in America today believe that we’re all better off when we live for one another than we are when we live only for ourselves. That’s the simplest value at the center of our politics—and it resonates as clearly with self-identified liberals in rural Kentucky as it does with those in the Boston suburbs. It’s also the central value that has the potential to define our politics, strengthen our society, and create a better future. If we’re going to spread that liberal value, we won’t do it by talking only with other liberals. We’ll do it by talking with conservatives, moderates, and the large slices of regular Americans undefined by political leanings, in Texas, Idaho, Montana, South Carolina, and Arkansas—one conversation at a time. We’ve heard about red states and blue states so often that we accept the division as fact. And it’s true: an increasing number of states have one-party control over both houses of their legislatures. There are fewer toss-up Senate and congressional seats. Even on a local level, as detailed maps of recent presidential elections show, every American is most likely to live in a solidly Democratic or Republican neighborhood. And yet, in most places, the story is more complicated. Montana can elect a Democratic governor, and Massachusetts can elect a Republican. A woman in Grapevine, Texas, can be attacked by conservatives when she runs for town council—then work as a private citizen with those same conservatives to enact government transparency laws. A coalition in Pawleys Island can unite the left and right over sensible development and planning. Democrats can help elect a Republican mayor of Idaho Falls, then work with her to push for expanded nondiscrimination laws. A group of hard-core progressives and hard-core reactionaries can sit down in Waukesha for “Détente Dinners.” A liberal retiree who spent his life in the air force can spend years in a regular book club with Republicans, Libertarians, and Green Partiers. A state legislator in Arkansas can help Democrats elect an insurgent Republican head of the state assembly in order to pass Medicaid expansion. A man in Yankton can belong to a church where he supposes he knows the politics of fellow parishioners but never asks—and then is surprised to run into them at a political gathering for a cause they share. These stories are among the many I heard in a series of conversations that took place in 2014. The truth is more like what a certain keynote speaker at the 2004 Democratic Convention in Boston noted: “The pundits like to slice and dice our country into red states and blue states. . . . But I’ve got news for them, too. We worship an awesome God in the blue states, and we don’t like federal agents poking around our libraries in the red states. We coach little league in the blue states and, yes, we’ve got some gay friends in the red states. There are patriots who opposed the war in Iraq, and there are patriots who supported the war in Iraq.” As then–U.S. Senate candidate Barack Obama summed it up, “There’s not a liberal America and a conservative America; there’s the United States of America.” Excerpted from “Blue in a Red State: The Survival Guide to Life in the Real America” by Justin Krebs. Copyright © 2016 by Justin Krebs. Published by The New Press. Reprinted here with permission.Lisa in Waukesha, Wisconsin, has two Facebook accounts. One reflects her liberal politics; the other is for acquaintances and family members to whom Lisa shows only her cat photos. Christina, in Milford, Massachusetts, has a sign in the back window of her car proclaiming support for a Democratic candidate. But as soon as she parks in the company lot, she puts it facedown on the backseat. Byron has lived in the same small town of Pomeroy, Iowa—population 662—his entire life. He brings his partner to family dinners but has never actually said to his conservative sister that he’s gay. Lisa, Christina, and Byron are “blues in red states”—liberals who live in conservative communities that exist in every state, Republican or Democratic-leaning, across America. They and people like them are constantly reminded they aren’t quite like everyone else: from the churches they do or don’t attend, to their purchases and media preferences, to their loyalties at the ballot box. On a daily basis, liberals who have made homes, formed friendships, and participated in the civic life of conservative towns and cities are confronted with unsettling reminders that they’re different, and they’ve found myriad ways to take that truth in stride. On some occasions, it’s best to say as little as possible. Chris in Cincinnati, Ohio, is quick to talk liberalism—except when he’s hanging out with his ice hockey team. Spike in Sandia Park, New Mexico, and Dean in Pawleys Island, South Carolina, are both white men in their sixties who often hear off hand right-wing comments from people who assume they are conservative, and then have to determine whether it’s worth speaking up. Diane in Fairbanks, Alaska, occasionally talks politics with her neighbors but never lets it get too heated—she’s always mindful she might need that neighbor to dig her out of the next big storm. Some might call this strategy “passing”—going undercover, by conscious deception or simple omission, to blend into conservative surroundings, staying quiet through sticky moments, or deftly navigating around political minefields in one’s neighborhood or workplace. But in some instances, it becomes too hard to stay quiet. Susannah in Kalispell, Montana, has had to interrupt the conversation of her quilting group when it’s veered too far to the right—whether debating government policy about wolves or discussing Native Americans. Rita, in Pawleys Island, South Carolina, mentioned to one of the members of her water aerobics club that the prayer before their post-practice lunch made her uncomfortable (at their next lunch, the women prayed while Rita was in the bathroom). Lenzi in Austin, Texas, asked her law school classmates not to use the word “retarded”—and was reprimanded by her professor as a result. Byron doesn’t like to stir up any controversy in his bar but found he had to say something as regulars muttered racial slurs. Coming out as a liberal happens when it’s important to stand up for liberal values even momentarily, in situations where remaining silent would feel complicit. Here and there, liberals living out of their element sometimes feel a need to lean into their politics—boasting a yard sign on a conservative block, offering a divergent point of view at a cordial meal—and then lean away just as quickly for the sake of civility and stability. And at other times, there’s no choice but to make a scene. When Desmond visited a comedy club on a trip home to Tuscaloosa, Alabama, he was so stunned by the performer’s homophobic comments that he piped up in the middle of the set. Dan in Idaho Falls, Idaho, questions his children’s science teachers about evolution—letting them apologize for teaching “that theory” before he reveals he’s a scientist who is in favor of a reality-based curriculum. Such moments call for unapologetic pride in one’s political perspective. At these junctures, liberals living in conservative areas wear their true colors, launching the long-shot local campaign, marching in pride parades, striking up conversations to convince their conservative acquaintances, calling out homophobia, racism, or sexism, or even running for office. At the same time, liberals often cope with and find comfort in their conservative surroundings by seeking out their tribe. Dan of Idaho Falls has started an atheist society. Desmond discovered a local theater group while growing up in Tuscaloosa. Even in the most isolated moments, Joe of Brandon, Florida, can still consume progressive blogs and podcasts. Chris of Yankton, South Dakota, streams left-leaning radio shows daily. However, whether they find their kindred spirits in small clusters or online, when these liberals walk out their doors, they come face-to-face with—and need to learn to confront, conform to, or otherwise navigate—their right-wing reality: TVs in local venues are tuned to Fox News. Co-workers can quote Rush Limbaugh. Anti-Obama comments are rife, made as a casual matter of fact, often ignorant and sometimes crossing the line to racist. Neighbors and colleagues assume that everyone attends church, and some are suspicious of those who don’t. The same assumptions are made about gun ownership. In these settings, being liberal can be challenging and it can be frightening. As one woman in Oklahoma City confessed, before she found other liberals she could talk with who gave her confidence, she would have been too nervous to “come out of the closet as a liberal.” And this isn’t just liberal paranoia: a conservative Mormon in Salt Lake City, Utah, explained that she had become disgusted with the venomous rhetoric of the Republicans in her state and it pushed her to meet some liberals. When she finally did, she recounted in total seriousness, “The first thing I learned was that they didn’t want to kill babies.” No wonder so many liberals, in such areas, feel out of place. But as many of them have discovered, they don’t have to give up their politics or give up their homes. Like all of nature’s creatures, they can adapt: they learn when to push their politics and when to put politics aside in order to form meaningful connections with neighbors despite differences. They learn to tap into values that run deeper than party affiliation. They find ways to share community happiness, which is key to daily survival, through a mix of coping, cajoling, and conquering, a balancing act of fight and flight, and knowing when it’s worth engaging, or when happiness relies on disengagement. A few blues in red states ultimately find they cannot exist comfortably as lone outposts of liberalism and choose to leave. They pick up from their conservative settings and find their way to college towns and state capitals, coastal metropolises and diverse big cities, where many liberals feel more naturally at home. But for the many liberals who stay put, the key to happiness is not in choosing which type of liberal to be—but in developing a rich array of coping mechanisms, “code-switching” among all the approaches. Knowing when to escape inward and when to escape outward, when to find strange bedfellows, or when to let good fences make good neighbors, helps even the most true-blue liberal survive and thrive in deep-red pockets of America. In an increasingly crowded, urbanized, and multicultural country, blues in red states provide lessons in coping and civility that can benefit all of us. How can we talk meaningfully and respectfully to our neighbors, even when they differ from us? How can we find common ground sturdier than daily turmoil? How can we communicate thoughtfully and share our values, one conversation at a time? We live in an era when Facebook and other social media increasingly tell us what we want to hear and share with us content that affirms—rather than challenges—our beliefs. More and more of the media we consume is nationally accessible— conservatives in Vermont can listen to Glenn Beck and Sean Hannity as easily as liberals in Texas can find Amy Goodman and Rachel Maddow. Whether one clicks over to the Drudge Report and RedState or to Alternet and Daily Kos, Americans can choose online news and opinion that make them feel at home. And yet, the virtual world has its limits—and we find ourselves interacting on a daily basis with people whom we can’t always choose as easily as we click on a link, and can’t shut out as quickly as we close a browser window. Liberals in conservative areas forge relationships with people of different political views all the time. Sometimes, they are able to persuade someone to accept a more progressive perspective. Sometimes, they find common ground over lifestyles or values that run deeper than politics. And occasionally—though rarely—they even find themselves agreeing with a conservative point of view. These liberals keep up the pressure for progress in the most intimidating surroundings. They voice unpopular but necessary views. They live side by side with many Americans who don’t strongly identify with any political label and are the most potentially persuadable. And they also put a friendly face on “liberalism”—making it harder for conservatives to demonize them, just as liberals need to remember not to demonize those with politics at the other end of the spectrum. My own life geography has been solidly blue: I was raised in a Democratic small town in New Jersey; attended college in Cambridge, Massachusetts; then made my life in New York City. I live close to independent bookstores and movie theaters, our neighborhood has curbside composting, and my wife and I belong to a food co-op. I’m a white, heterosexual male. It’s been easy being a liberal. Then a little more than a decade ago, a friend and I started a club called Drinking Liberally. It was 2003, during the dark days of the Bush administration. Our nation had just entered a war we shouldn’t have been in, Americans were being warned by the White House to “watch what you say,” and there was a sense that we lacked liberal leadership and liberal community. So we started gathering at a bar each week to talk politics with fellow progressives—to learn, share, vent, and organize. The idea took off and within a few years Drinking Liberally was everywhere. It quickly made the leap from progressive areas, where it was a fun social networking opportunity, to conservative areas, where it was a lifeline for liberals who otherwise felt politically isolated. It has grown into a network of hundreds of chapters. As exciting as Drinking Liberally was to my friends and me, it was even more critical to folks in red states who needed to know they weren’t alone. Over the decade since, I’ve had the chance to visit the more than seventy-five chapters of Drinking Liberally, which now exists in almost every state. From thousands of conversations, I’ve seen that, despite regional differences and habits, there is a core to liberalism that runs nationwide. Those who call themselves liberal in America today believe that we’re all better off when we live for one another than we are when we live only for ourselves. That’s the simplest value at the center of our politics—and it resonates as clearly with self-identified liberals in rural Kentucky as it does with those in the Boston suburbs. It’s also the central value that has the potential to define our politics, strengthen our society, and create a better future. If we’re going to spread that liberal value, we won’t do it by talking only with other liberals. We’ll do it by talking with conservatives, moderates, and the large slices of regular Americans undefined by political leanings, in Texas, Idaho, Montana, South Carolina, and Arkansas—one conversation at a time. We’ve heard about red states and blue states so often that we accept the division as fact. And it’s true: an increasing number of states have one-party control over both houses of their legislatures. There are fewer toss-up Senate and congressional seats. Even on a local level, as detailed maps of recent presidential elections show, every American is most likely to live in a solidly Democratic or Republican neighborhood. And yet, in most places, the story is more complicated. Montana can elect a Democratic governor, and Massachusetts can elect a Republican. A woman in Grapevine, Texas, can be attacked by conservatives when she runs for town council—then work as a private citizen with those same conservatives to enact government transparency laws. A coalition in Pawleys Island can unite the left and right over sensible development and planning. Democrats can help elect a Republican mayor of Idaho Falls, then work with her to push for expanded nondiscrimination laws. A group of hard-core progressives and hard-core reactionaries can sit down in Waukesha for “Détente Dinners.” A liberal retiree who spent his life in the air force can spend years in a regular book club with Republicans, Libertarians, and Green Partiers. A state legislator in Arkansas can help Democrats elect an insurgent Republican head of the state assembly in order to pass Medicaid expansion. A man in Yankton can belong to a church where he supposes he knows the politics of fellow parishioners but never asks—and then is surprised to run into them at a political gathering for a cause they share. These stories are among the many I heard in a series of conversations that took place in 2014. The truth is more like what a certain keynote speaker at the 2004 Democratic Convention in Boston noted: “The pundits like to slice and dice our country into red states and blue states. . . . But I’ve got news for them, too. We worship an awesome God in the blue states, and we don’t like federal agents poking around our libraries in the red states. We coach little league in the blue states and, yes, we’ve got some gay friends in the red states. There are patriots who opposed the war in Iraq, and there are patriots who supported the war in Iraq.” As then–U.S. Senate candidate Barack Obama summed it up, “There’s not a liberal America and a conservative America; there’s the United States of America.” Excerpted from “Blue in a Red State: The Survival Guide to Life in the Real America” by Justin Krebs. Copyright © 2016 by Justin Krebs. Published by The New Press. Reprinted here with permission.

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