I'm Not Watching All-White Movies Anymore

(Originally published at Wine Fine Dark Chicks)

I don’t know why I didn’t think of this sooner.  

It never occurred to me that I could simply stop spending money on movies with an all-White cast.  I went to film school and I’ve been obsessed with movies all my life.  I never thought I would actually give them up for any reason.

But I’ve realized I that I’m not enjoying the movies I’ve been paying to see.  I’m not satisfied.  I feel cheated.  I spend most of the movie scanning the background looking for Black extras.  I would feel a little buzz of happiness when I did spot a Black woman here and there.  But that buzz of happiness was short lived.  I still felt cheated and miserable.  So I’ve decided that being miserable is no longer working for me.    

Ahh – freedom!  I actually feel free after making the decision to stop supporting movies with an all-White cast.

The movie “What If” starring Daniel Radcliffe and Zoe Kazan was the last straw for me.  Not only was the movie terrible but there were no Black people in this film.  I don’t count the Black extra who played the wedding aficionado at the end of the movie (not really a spoiler here so don’t panic), as someone who adores love stories. It is a personal affront to me to only see love stories told from a White person’s point of view.  

It’s not just love stories though – I’m talking about family oriented stories as well.  “This is Where I Leave You,” looks like it could be interesting.  But I won’t watch it – because that could’ve easily been a Black family.  Reese Witherspoon is going to be in a movie called “Wild” and it totally looks like something I could get into but I will not watch it because I’ve seen Reese Witherspoon star in enough coming of age movies to last me a lifetime. I won’t watch another “Fault in Our Stars” or “If I Stay” or “Wolf of Wallstreet” or any of those movies because there’s no representation of me in them.  I have the image of White women burned in my brain!  I can’t shut my eyes and imagine any type of love story without picturing a White woman in that role.  That’s just not acceptable anymore.

Hollywood has brainwashed me for long enough.  

I’m not just thirsty for more women of color in films and TV.  I’m not just hungry for it.  

I’m angry.  

And I’m tired of complaining about it. 

When you do the math it just doesn’t add up.  A movie costs about $13.75. Plus parking and snacks.  On average, I’m spending about $25 every time I go see a movie.  I usually see a movie at least 4 times a month.  That’s $100 a month.  Multiply that by 12 months and I’m spending $1200 a year on movies alone.  That’s rent money.

I’m wasting rent money on these films that purposefully exclude me.  Why would I do that?  That’s completely insane.  

If I took that $1200 every year and put it in my savings account I could invest in my own original content.  I wish I’d thought of doing this years ago.  I’d probably be directing a feature film by now.  But as they say, there’s no time like the present. 

So starting now I’m going to stop watching films with an all-White cast.  Instead I’m going to focus on supporting Black movies or movies with diversity.  This will be a bit of an adjustment considering how much I love watching all movies.  I may go through movie withdrawal.  But I think it will be worth it not to spend the duration of a movie scanning the background for Black extras.  I shouldn’t be scanning the background looking for Black extras.  

If you’re reading this – you’re probably feeling the same way.  I urge you to consider doing the same.  Save your money for movies that have diversity in them. Let’s stop feeling secretly miserable when we watch movies that are supposed to entertain us.  And let’s work towards making our own content.

Maybe if enough of us join the movement Hollywood will finally wake up.

You Can Cry

You can cry

Because there was loss.  A friendship at first filled with laughter and shared secrets.  Then suddenly you were alone.  So you can cry.  You can cry because this is what you always feared.  This is what you always ran from.  That pang of sadness.  That twinge of guilt.  That feeling of abandonment.  That hopelessness.  That realization that nothing is in your control.  Not even your tears.  You can cry.  Because you shut down for years just to avoid this and yet here you are.  There is no escaping it.  So let it out.  15 years of tears.  Cry.  Release.  Cry.  Release.  Cry.  Release.  Cry.  You can cry because there was love.  And you thought one day they'd be at your wedding.  And at your baby shower.  And you thought your children would be best friends.    You can cry because it matters and it doesn't make you weak.  You can cry because you can still be a strong Black woman tomorrow.  You can cry because you admit you made mistakes.  You can cry because later you will have to get back to working on changing things so this doesn't happen again.  Cry.  Release.  Cry.  Release.  Cry.  You can cry because if you don't you'll keep running.  You'll shut down again and you'll never truly move on.  You can cry because it's not easy to let go though it may seem effortless.  You can cry because it's cheaper than therapy.

And because it's what you do.

Watch the video of this blog!

"You can Cry" Written and Performed by Dawn Melissa Green

Things I Would Tell My Younger Self

When I was in New York I got to go through some old boxes I'd left behind and found pictures from high school and college.

As I stared at those younger looking images of myself I started thinking about how much simpler life would've been if I'd known then what I know now.

If it were possible to have a chat with my younger self these are some of the things I would say:

Speak up when someone hurts you.  When a bully threatens to beat you up.  When a so-called friend calls you the 'N' word and laughs in your face.  Speak up.  Stand up for yourself.  Even if it means that bully following through with her threat and getting punched in the face.  Even if it means losing all your friends.  Don't crouch in a corner or stand on the sidelines and just take it hoping they'll get bored and move on.  Speak up - stand up for yourself.  Be loud about it.

It's OK to be on your own.  It builds character.

Don't make out with your boss.  It won't end well.

Don't go work at any summer camps after college.  It's a complete waste of time and on both occasions you'll be unfairly fired so don't do it.

That box of oatmeal pies won't make you feel better.

Don't leave your camera on the floor of your bedroom prom night.  It will get stolen either by your dad or one of his friends.  And dad won't buy you a new one despite his promise to.

Don't lose your virginity to get back at your ex-boyfriend.

So you know that woman who's always hanging around the choir director?  She's evil.  Possibly a racist.  Don't waste any of your energy trying to get on her good side or seek her approval.

Don't pass messages back and forth between friends.  There will be confusion and you'll end up getting blamed for everything.

Listen to your mom.  She loves you.

Try to be nice to your sister.

Put family first no matter what.

If someone calls you the n word or uses it ever don't associate with them.  They aren't your friends.  Also, don't have sex with White guys who use the N word.  It's degrading and you can do better.

Don't be so hard on yourself.  Everyone makes mistakes.

Don't take everything so seriously.

Don't follow the crowd.

Don't move to Los Angeles based on someone else's advice.

Don't take anyone's virginity as a favor to them.

Don't hook up with your guy friends.  Not on your birthday.  Not because he's drunk.  Not for any reason.  It will ruin everything.  And none of them will treat you like a real friend afterwards.

If you are sad or heartbroken it's OK to cry.  It doesn't make you weak.

Floss everyday.

Don't be afraid to go on adventures.  Whether that's exploring Harlem for the first time by yourself or spending a semester in London to intern at the BBC.  Do it.

Everything will work out in your favor if you just have Faith.  And work hard.

If they never call you just to check in or catch up - they aren't your friends.  Let them go.

Healthy competition between girlfriends is OK but if you find yourself constantly drained or angry and upset after spending time with someone cut them loose.  It's a toxic relationship.

Fall in love with one boy at a time.

Don't hook up with your teachers.

If you have to ask what the word "buck" means - you're not ready to fight.  Walk away.

Practice forgiveness.  Don't hold grudges or burn bridges because things didn't go your way.

Love yourself.

I'm sure there are a hundred other pieces of advice I could give myself too but then this post would never end.  Knowing me and how stubborn I was as a teenager, I probably wouldn't heed any of this advice.  But at least my younger self would know there was somebody (from the future) looking out for her - and since we both love time travel movies that little fact might actually make me cool in my younger self's book.

What would you tell your younger self?

De-clutter Your Life

I got hooked on subscription services guys!  

From Ipsy, Wantable, We are onyx, Love with Food, Curlbox, Curlkit, Hairfinity, Julep....even Your Tea (I'll do a review on Your Tea/Tiny Tea soon - suffice it to say it wasn't a pleasant experience and I honestly don't recommend wasting your money on a company that gets defensive and makes up any excuse to explain why their product isn't working including suggesting you go see a doctor because maybe there's something wrong with your body....but I digress).

Anyway, I got hooked on basically buying things for no reason.  Maybe it was from reading blog reviews and watching Youtube reviews.  Maybe I thought having those products would make me happier or fulfilled.  Maybe I just have an addictive personality.  It's probably all of the above. 

But after awhile I took a look around my already cluttered apartment and I realized I had a problem. 

I had all this stuff. 

And I didn't need any of it. 

And I wasn't happy or fulfilled. 

And my bank account wasn't happy either. 

I'd missed something.  I looked for the quick fix instead of dealing with the real issue.  I got a high from seeing my Onyx box in the mail.  I got a buzz when I saw an email from Ipsy saying my glam bag had shipped.  But then those highs and buzzes would fade and I would sit there with all these samples that don't really suit me (let me stop lying, I love everything about We Are Onyx.  Like EVERYTHING) - And I would still feel empty.

I canceled my subscription services and started going through my things.  I made piles.

To keep. 

Throw away. 

Donate.

When I was done and looked at my piles I saw my 'too keep' pile was very small.  If I was doing an honest assessment I could see that most of the things I had was just clutter.  

I dusted off my copy of Gail Blanke's Throw Out Fifty Things and rereading the book helped me get organized and part with the things I didn't need or want.  (I might have mentioned this before but I used to be addicted to collecting Self-help books.  It was one of my more innocent addictions and one I was sort of proud to have.  I'm one of those people who benefits from having a 12 step program when it comes to self-improvement.  I like having my journey mapped out for me.)

So I'm glad I had Gail Blanke's book to go back to in order to get de-cluttered.  It's a pretty simple concept really - you just throw out fifty things.  They can't be the same thing (i.e. 50 magazines counts as only ONE thing) but they can be pretty much anything from clothes to books...to people.  If they are connected to bad memories they should be in the 'throw away' or 'donate' pile for sure.  I threw out so many old t-shirts that were connected to old jobs and school activities (i.e. bad memories) and if felt so good never to have to look at a t-shirt from those camps I worked at or a sweatshirt from high school again.

Anyway, I came across a chapter where a woman talks about how she threw out her man.  She didn't physically toss her boyfriend in the trash, obviously, but she ended that relationship because it wasn't making her happy.  I thought it was genius of Gail Blanke to include this story in her book because it gave me the push I needed to start taking a closer look at some of the relationships I was involved in that weren't making me happy.  But tackling a home improvement job and throwing out objects is a lot easier to do than throwing out people. 

It shouldn't be done in haste or without consideration.

Before you get scissor happy, take a moment to really think about who adds to your life.  Who edifies you spiritually.  Who's there for you on your darkest days not just for happy hour or when they need something.  Who invites you out just to hang out and not because they're feeling bored or lonely or their other plans fell through?  Who always has your back no matter what and never bails on you for a better opportunity or more desirable friend? 

Go through your mental roledex and think about the people you have in your life - then start cutting out the drainers, the users, the verbal abusers, the liars, the haters, and the people who only keep you around "just in case". 

You are no one's back up plan.  You are no one's safe bet.  You are no one's after thought.  You are no one's stepping stone.  You are no one's trusty sidekick.

You're so much better than that. 

And deep down you know it.  So stop putting up with the BS.  Stop putting up with getting your feelings hurt or getting used or lied to.  Stop putting up with the guilt trips.  Stop putting up with being talked about behind your back.  Stop putting up with condescending people. 

Just stop it. 

Get rid of anything that doesn't serve you.  De-clutter your life.

Go be happy. Now.

Ray Rice and the Self-Defense Defense

Ray Rice is an animal.

A sadistic, sociopath.

He punched his then fiance in the face twice, knocking her out the second time.  Then dragged her unconscious body out of the elevator, then LIED and said he didn't punch her but pushed her and she bumped her head.  He's shown no remorse throughout this entire ordeal and he has yet to actually apologize to his now wife, Janay Palmer.  Yet he's got apologies in spades for his (former) teammates and his fans.  He's got crocodile tears to shed for losing his spot on the Ravens.  But as for the domestic violence against the mother of his child and the woman he's supposed to love?  Nothing.

I'd like nothing more than to see Ray Rice rot in jail along with Chris Brown, Floyd Mayweather and the rest of those assholes who enjoy using women as punching bags to work out their insecurities and shortcomings.

And what is this Self-Defense nonsense that all the Ray Rice supporters keep talking about?

Tell me in what universe does a slap justify a knockout?  Since when does a woman deserve a punch in the face for charging at someone or looking like she's going to hit someone?  Look at Janay and tell me how much bodily damage she could actually do to a trained boxer and a football player like Ray Rice?  It's not self-defense if she never actually got a hit in.  I don't care how much attitude she had or how loud she was or how emotional she seemed - that woman did not deserve to be punched in the face and then have her body dragged out of a hotel elevator.  She did not deserve to embarrass herself on national TV by apologizing for being abused.

I don't know a thing about Janay Palmer's upbringing.  I don't know if she'd been abused before she had the misfortune of meeting Ray Rice.  I don't know if she's always had low self-esteem or if this is something new.  What I do know is that I'm sad for her.  I'm also afraid for her well-being.  Because looking at the video footage and watching Ray Rice's body language as he followed her into the elevator it seems like he intended to engage in a physical altercation with her.  I've seen abuse first hand enough to know what it looks like.  He went into that elevator and practically stood on top of Janay  - breathing down on her like some kind of rabid animal - then he appeared to hit her before she charged him.  Those two punches happened so cavalierly that it made me believe he'd done it before.  And he'll do it again.  So I'm definitely afraid for Janay Palmer's well-being.

I'm disgusted that there are actually people out there who support Ray Rice.  Floyd Mayweather wished Ray Rice "nothing but the best."  Stephen A. Smith was telling us not to "close the door on a 27 year old."  Not to mention the dozens of hateful tweets I got from all the male Ray Rice supporters.

I'm also appalled by the women who have judged Janay Palmer's public defense of her abusive husband.  Sure it's infuriating that she went ahead and married him after what he did to her.  But turning against her and saying things like, "She got what she deserved" isn't going to help her or any woman in an abusive relationship.  I'm not saying "don't judge people because God is the only one that can judge our lives."  For those of you who do believe that - cool - but as for me and my house - fuck that.  I highly doubt God would frown upon me for judging Ray Rice.  So I will weigh in on this situation - I will cry out loud against domestic violence.  Ray Rice should be condemned for his actions and especially his lack of remorse.  As for Janay Palmer - that's something she will have to figure out in her own time.  We can't force her to see the light.  We can't force her to leave that toxic environment much as we'd like to.  All we can do is Pray for her.

As for this self-defense thing - maybe more women should start taking self-defense classes.  I know I'm considering it.  Let's be prepared just in case our so-called knights in shining armor turn into psychos.  We should be able to defend ourselves in situations like that.  Let's take it one step further and instead of ballet classes, let's start putting our daughters in Taekwon do classes.  Let's say, "Fuck the gender roles" and start lifting some goddamn weights.

Because I'm tired of being afraid that one day I'll be like Janay Palmer.  For me, abuse goes way back to my childhood starting with my alcoholic father.  In my early twenties I secretly thought I deserved to be in an abusive relationship with a man who made jokes about me being physically and sexually abused as a child whenever we fought and actually had the nerve to hit me - once.  I was lucky though - I got out of that relationship and eventually, I started to believe that I deserved better.

But I've been afraid ever since.  To the point where I walk into bars and immediately search for the unattended chairs and beer bottles I might have to use as weapons just in case people get too drunk and shit gets out of control.  I'm afraid all the time to the point where the cups of scalding hot coffee that I drink serve two functions; 1) caffeine and  2) potential weapon in case some asshole gets a little too close or looks at me the wrong way.  I'm afraid to the point where I don't want to be alone in a room with a man I don't think I could physically take.

I'm tired of being afraid.  I'm tired of being angry.  I'm tired of hearing all these stories that confirm my suspicions about how much men hate women.  I'm tired.  We are not here for the pleasures of men to do with as they please.  We have to find a way to make them understand that.

Because clearly they just aren't getting it.

Labor Day Weekend In New York

My trip to New York was very last minute.  I'd had it in the back of my head that I wanted to visit before the end of 2014 but I didn't know until about 2-3 days prior to actually leaving that I would be going.  I was very happy that I would be in New York for Labor Day Weekend and to spend the last days of summer with friends and family.  Since this trip was impromptu - and since it had been two years since last I was in New York and that trip hadn't been all that pleasant - I thought I'd blog about it.

I left my apartment in Los Angeles before the sun came out.  In true Dawn Melissa fashion I waited until the last minute to pack.  So I was up until about 3am packing and only slept 2 hours before leaving to catch my flight.  I got the aisle seat and didn't check my carry-on.  And I was pleased when I was able to lift my carry-on with one hand into the overhead compartments without any assistance from the men offering to help (I had a hot cup of coffee in the other hand and refused to toss it before boarding because it'd cost $5.  I think my lifting the luggage while holding the hot coffee made everyone around me a little nervous).  

I got to New York in the evening and pretty much spent the rest of the day sleeping and catching up on old episodes of MTV's Awkward. 

The next day was spent with Melinda a friend from college and one of my favorite people still living in New York.  I'd never been to Williamsburg so I thought it would be fun to meet her there.  We had lunch at a place called Sweet Chick where they served Chicken and Waffles but also Kale so- something for everyone.  I had chicken and pancakes but next time I go I will try their shrimp and grits.  

While we ate we had a really interesting chat about friendships.  I realized through this conversation that I'm in a place where I'm not open to just any kind of friendship anymore.  My standards have gone up and I'm really looking for genuine friendships.  I also realized that as far as LA is concerned I'm not open to new friendships.  I just don't believe I can find what I'm looking for here.  Which explains why I rarely go out anymore.  But that's all going to change very soon. 

The next day was spent walking around Central Park, Times Square, Greenwich village and Soho.

  

I walked so much my feet were killing me. 

At one point, while sitting on a rock in Central Park, one of those typical upper eastside types dripped her Gyro on me because she was so busy keeping up a steady stream of nonsensical conversation with a couple of toddlers that she didn't notice me.  Hey I guess when I have children I'll be the same way do I won't make fun of her too much - still, kind of annoying.  Normally I get pretty ticked off when people drop food on me but in this instance I was relieved that it hadn't been bird poop.  So I let it slide.

The next day was spent preparing for a party to celebrate the Virgin Mary.  Orlando's parents had been planning for a year and were excited that Orlando was able to come to New York to show his support.  Orlando's mom inspected the dress I'd packed and made sure I had accessories and a handbag to go with it.  I also had to wear heels.  Then she sent me to get my nails done- which I thoroughly enjoyed.  Meanwhile, Orlando, his father and his brothers went to get suits for the occasion.   

Everyone looked very nice.  Especially Orlando who had to make a speech in Spanish.  He did well.  I will post a vlog about that on my channel.  The party was fun.  I even got to put some of those salsa lessons Orlando and I took together to good use.

The next day, we went to a BBQ on Long Island.  By this time I was covered in mosquito bites so I was a little uncomfortable.  I wasn't used to humidity or dealing with mosquitos but what I didn't mind was the rain.  The California drought had me thirsty for a rainstorm.  So I was ecstatic when it started raining during the BBQ.  That didn't stop us from eating and playing flip cup (which I'm pretty good at BTW).  

On the way home we stopped to get lotion for my bug bites.  At one point, a little girl and her dad came in the store.  Someone on her way our held the door for the dad and he walked through without acknowledging the person who'd held the door.  The little girl called out to her dad, "she held the door for you dad, what do you say?  What do you say dad?!". The dad looked embarrassed as everyone stared at him then he mumbled, "Thank you," and rushed off.  It was an awesome moment.  I realized kids always have something to teach their entitled parents. 

I saw my family the next day.  My cousins and their kids, my goddaughter, my aunts, my brother and sister and grandad.  Pretty much everyone except my mom, which was a bummer, but I got to talk with her on the phone.  

It was a nice day spent in Pennsylvania and a really great way to wrap up the Labor Day Weekend festivities.  With more food, movies and picture taking.  The best part was that I got to meet the newest addition to the family- my one month old cousin Amari Egypt.  

If ever I were certain that I wanted kids it was in this moment.  Holding that tiny baby and falling head over heals in love.

I spent my last day back in Queens going through a bunch of old high school and college photos and mourning the loss of my girlish figure.  Lol.  Actually it was a nice trip down memory lane.  But I'll write more on that later.   

For now I've just landed in LAX - like the plane touched down as I started writing this paragraph.  I need to go to baggage claim because the idiot at LGA forced me to check my tiny bag.  Even though it was free it was still annoying because my bag wasn't too big or bulky.  Also, the flight wasn't full so there were all these empty compartments just laughing at me as I sulked in my seat before take off.  

I didn't sulk long though because I fell fast asleep as soon as the plane took off.  Again in true Dawn Fashion I'd waited until the last minute to pack and had only slept two hours.  When I woke up I decided to write about my trip.  It was really nice to get away from Los Angeles for a bit.  Especially during the Labor Day Weekend.  Mosquito bites, humidity, heavy rain and all - I enjoyed every bit.  

But I'm glad to be home and looking forward to sleeping in my own bed.