Please go and see this beautiful, heart-breaking short documentary by Zanele Muholi. You’ll need to login via your Google or IMDB account, but it’s a must see. Believe.
A highly personal take on the challenges facing Black lesbians in South Africa today emerges through the life, work, friends and associates of ‘visual activist’ and internationally celebrated photographer, Zanele Muholi (who also presents).
Rhimes has also conquered another sticky area that television loves to ignore: ensemble casts that transcend white homogeneity. (Show runners themselves form a pretty uniform world, one Rhimes has managed to rise to the top of; she was one of only two African-American women named to the Hollywood Reporter’s 2011 “Top 50 Power Show Runners” list.)
“It’s hard for me to comment on why people think that only white people do stuff,” she said. “I watch television sometimes and think, there’s nobody in this landscape that looks anything like me. I don’t know why that should be true, when everyone is a complex, multifaceted, funny, smart, dramatic person — everybody is — so the world on television should look like the world outside. I don’t really know what that’s about, and I try to raise my eyebrow at it, and question it a lot.”
“You guys know about vampires? … You know, vampires have no reflections in a mirror? There’s this idea that monsters don’t have reflections in a mirror. And what I’ve always thought isn’t that monsters don’t have reflections in a mirror. It’s that if you want to make a human being into a monster, deny them, at the cultural level, any reflection of themselves. And growing up, I felt like a monster in some ways. I didn’t see myself reflected at all. I was like, “Yo, is something wrong with me? That the whole society seems to think that people like me don’t exist?” And part of what inspired me, was this deep desire that before I died, I would make a couple of mirrors. That I would make some mirrors so that kids like me might seem themselves reflected back and might not feel so monstrous for it.”—
i fell asleep with not a soul but the howling wind & woke up in a dream, in your arms what’s the harm in fantasy, besides the fact that it teases the mind? the undersides of my feet as black as forgotten space from running rings around the idea of you. i refuse to stop running until our galaxies become entangled.