Spectra Speaks

Wow. So well-written. With Love. So much respect for this warrior woman.  I’ve added her to my bucket list of people to meet before I leave this realm, for real. Every white feminist I know should read this. It’s just everything.

chiefelk:

Dear Eve Ensler,

I want to start off by saying thank you. I appreciate the time you took to reach out to me, because I know you’re incredibly busy. I know there are much more important people in this world than myself, so I appreciate you engaging in dialogue with me and my colleague Kelleigh…

I’ve been mulling over the gay zulu wedding fiasco over the past few weeks. I was excited to see it, but something left me unsettled. Here are my thoughts, inspired by a TEDTalk by one of my favorite writers, Chimamanda Adichie, “The Danger of a Single Story.”

Excerpt:

In light of the struggles of LGBTI Africans, the desire to celebrate any kind of progress – especially when it comes in the form of a gleeful Zulu wedding – is understandable; the vibrant ceremony presented a sharp contrast to the media’s grim and, at times, gruesome depiction of violent homophobia on the African continent. However, it is dangerous to assign wide-sweeping gains to all LGBTI Africansbased on the perceived victory of a few. 

What of gay Africans who view marriage as the least of their problems – young people, for instance, who have been disowned by their families and, above all, seek a stable alternative to homelessness? What about transgender women who experience rejection (and violence) from both gay and straight communities alike? And lesbians–forced to live in fear of so-called “corrective rape”–will marriage mean social acceptance for them, too?

If we’ve learned anything from criticism of the same sex marriage equality movement in the U.S., it’s that too much emphasis on marriage as a pathway to acceptance could only end up benefiting a small segment of the LGBTI community (e.g. gay men, or members of the middle class–while the groups most at-risk e.g. women, youth, transgender people, etc.–are likely to go unheard, and even unfunded.”

Read the rest here: http://www.spectraspeaks.com/2013/04/gay-zulu-wedding-and-the-danger-of-a-single-lgbt-african-story-media-activism/

QWOC Media Wire is a media advocacy organization and online platform that amplifies the voices and thought leadership of sexual minorities around the world. 

We are happy to announce that we’re seeking THREE new editors to join our team! Non-US candidates are strongly encouraged to apply. Applications now open via our online submission system.

Maryam Kazeem, “Bodies That Matter: The African History Of Naked Protest, FEMEN Aside,” Okay Africa 3/28/13 (via racialicious)

(via dynamicafrica)

Excerpt from, What Kind of African Doesn’t Speak Any African Languages? Me by Spectra Speaks

As someone who isn’t fluent in her mother tongue, I can relate heavily to parts of this article although my story is a little different as I only spent a limited time of my upbringing in Nigeria and went to boarding school in a different country.

I also encounter this form of alienation and hostility from other Africans, of all ages, who attempt to devalue my identity as both a Nigerian and an African (as though they have the right in the first place) because I am not fluent in an African language. It’s a pity that some people are hellbent on policing other people’s identities when so many of these factors are, or were, beyond our control.

(via dynamicafrica)

THANKS SO MUCH TO DYNAMIC AFRICA FOR SHARING MY PIECE! Meanwhile, hostility and aggressive invalidation of my identity as an African from other Africans (especially from other Africans) is an ongoing thing I’ve learn to shake my head at, then move on. In this piece, it’s about language, but queerness is also used to jab at my identity as well (cause *real* Africans aren’t LGBTI. Never). 

From my latest piece, “What Kind of African Doesn’t Speak Any African Languages? Me.”

”My purpose isn’t to debate who is more African than whom based on language fluency (or even geopolitical circumstance). On the contrary: I don’t understand how anyone can cherry pick a single aspect of our culture as the arbiter of “authentic” African identity: Language. For sure, it’s important. But so is indigenous spirituality, traditional garb, family values, the arts. Culture comprises many elements, thus it makes no sense to police cultural belonging– cling to such a divisive hierarchy, based on the single factor of language, especially considering the lasting effects of our colonial history, and the impact of globalization on contemporary African culture.

There are a myriad of other identity markers that reveal the extent of both our sameness and uniqueness and make up the diverse African cultures that span the globe. Africa is complex–Africans, even moreso. Let’s not trade in our shared heritage for the exclusivity of an unjust social hierarchy. Let’s not , as our colonizers did, draw borders around poorly constructed monoliths. Our just protest for an Africa with linguistic agency must not turn us into the same masters of imperialist dogma we’re still yet to hold accountable.”

PHOTO: “My mother tongue is my childhood, my land and country.” - Artist Unknown, Source.

QWOC Media Wire seeks submissions from queer women, trans people, and gender non-conforming people of color who inhabit multiple “in between spaces.” We’re offering you a space to talk about how you navigate “life in the gray,” and how the experiences of these multiple identities converge or share territory. 

We are open to original visual art, poetry, music, and mixed media)*, but we’re particularly interested in personal narratives/essays, creative non-fiction, social commentary submissions in the following categories:

- Romantic Relationships
- (Bio and Chosen) Family experiences
- Single-Issue Identity Politics and Community Organizing
- Creating Community with Other “In-Betweeners”
- Diaspora Borderlands; Geograpny and Migration (queer folk who grapple with “life in the gray” across cultures and continents)
- “In Betweener” Odes, Homage, and Manifestos: Ideal for rants, “truth” prose, interviews with notable leaders that inspire or historical icons.

This call for submissions will culminate in a special editorial series to be released in June 2013.

DEADLINE FOR SUBMISSIONS IS APRIL 30TH, 2013. 

Read the full call here. Or submit right away: http://bit.ly/qwocborderlands

I got an idea. Waait forrr it… an #OliviaPope Lingerie Line. #scandal

I wonder what the big white gay inc movement will fight for once LGBT peeps win the right to marry.

Will middle class gay white people finally face queer youth (of color) homelessness?

Will male-identified LGBT activists ever prioritize addressing homophobic violence against women?

What about the unjust incarceration of sex workers (many of who are part of the trans and undocumented community)?

Will the marriage equality movement fight this hard, and this long for immigration reform, which affects binational couples and multi-status families like mine? 

I want equality for everyone. A favorable outcome today will get us closer to that, but I encourage everyone to make commitments (now) to continue fighting for those who have been marginalized by the LGBT movement long after we’re done celebrating.

Go Red. 

Morning Reflection: It’s okay to be afraid of sharing the truth about your experiences. It’s okay to fear rejection and criticism. It’s even okay to anticipate that what you have to offer may not matter at all, to anyone but you. What’s *not* okay is not having any fear at all. 

If you aren’t afraid, then you aren’t taking a risk. And if you aren’t taking a risk, then what’s any of this for? 

I write from a place of hope, and of Love. But what gives me direction is my fear. Whenever I avoid writing something, or worse—avoid sharing something, even after it is written, fear is the only sign I need to know, absolutely, that it must be shared. 

After receiving *so. much. love* from people who read my piece yesterday, I’m grateful for having learned to trust my fear, to let it serve as the signal for taking bigger risks, and braving bigger jumps. But I’m most grateful for having learned to put away that fear, to forfeit its limitations for the boundless possibilities of Love, right before I leap.

When I remember how my mother celebrated International Women’s Day–as part of a community of hundreds, sometimes thousands, of African women, dressed in bright colors, often laughing and dancing, holding hands–I think about how many African lesbians have been evicted from their sister circles, how many transgender women have never experienced unguarded female friendship. Women’s Day inspires me to keep writing my story so that my African sisters can get to know me, and to keep advocating for queer Africans like me who are still fighting–not just for women’s “rights” but for women’s community, sisterhood, Love.

Women’s Day should be a reminder to all of us to keep advocating for every woman’s right to love and be loved, even long after we’ve found sisterhood for ourselves.

Join Spectra Speaks for a live live podcast about African women in the Diaspora using new media and technology to subvert and influence mainstream narratives about Africa: African Women Storytellers in the Digital Age.

We’ll be pontificating on mainstream storytelling about Africa, the role of western media and social media innovations (both on the continent and in the Diaspora) in shaping these narratives. 

Follow the host @spectraspeaks on Twitter; use the hashtag #africanwomenmedia to join the conversation. 

More details about the event, including guest bios and a way to submit your questions and thoughts for discussion here. 

followingherfootsteps:

There isn’t a day that passes that I don’t have to think about my body – how much I’ve moved it (or not), what I’ve put into it, what it looks like in whatever outfit I’ve chosen to wear. But thinking about my body isn’t something particularly new, it isn’t something that came with adolescent…