Small Doses Read online

  I no longer dress based on how I want folks to see me, but how I want to see myself—as art that elevates the vibrance in a room. That doesn’t mean with just colors or prints, it’s also in the confidence of how I feel in my fashion, the distinctiveness of the pieces, and how they’re paired. I do my best (and sometimes I’m lucky enough to work with bomb-ass stylists, like Shiona Turini, Mecca, and Bryan) to create/wear looks that, like my artwork, are abstract yet defined, bold and black, eclectic but not eccentric. Fashion, clothes, and style do not define you. It may not be your thing. Don’t let it get in the way of you being you and loving you. For me, fashion is art. The same way you walk into a room and marvel at a masterpiece crafted by an artisan of creative vision, that’s how I want my style to be seen when I walk in a room! My style, like my voice, is developing every day to emphatically encourage folks to challenge the status quo, comfortably live their truth, and be the light on their own path to joy. Now, when my style speaks for me, it says what I truly am: “This woman is vitality . . . and won’t take no shit!”

  SIDE EFFECTS OF

  Rape Culture

  “Boys will be boys” they say to excuse the violence, but let’s call it what it is and break the silence.

  EVERYDAY FORMS OF SEXISM

  There are phrases that are so ingrained in our society that we don’t even realize just how problematic they are until we take a closer look at what’s truly behind the words.

  • “. . . like a girl” really means: “I believe women are capable of a lesser standard of skill/strength than men, so I’m using them as a synonym for addressing your less than stellar performance.”

  • “. . . for a girl” really means: “I believe women are capable of a lesser standard of skill/strength than men, however, you, a girl, seem to defy my blanket, uneducated assumption, and I am attempting to give you a compliment while completely disrespecting your entire gender group.”

  • “. . . unladylike” really means: “I believe women are supposed to behave a certain way that makes me feel safe in my toxic masculinity, and your ability to casually demonstrate your freedom by moving your backside like that is making me VERY uncomfortable!”

  #METOO

  Let’s be clear, #metoo was never just about (white) women in Hollywood finally addressing their abusers and opening the vault on the centuries’ old practice of men in power wielding it to satisfy their desires. Tarana Burke started #metoo as a movement to encourage women to feel safe in sharing their stories of assault in order to empower others to do so. The idea being that when you say #metoo it helps to deflect the shame, loneliness, and stigma of being a victim. It is great that it has extended to the entertainment and music industries—however, to be clear, #metoo is not about bringing down men, it is about lifting victims up.

  WAS THAT RAPE?

  I remember being so drunk that I went home with someone who, though we’d spoken on email for a while, I had never met in person before that night. He hit me up to say that he was in New York City and we met at a club and danced the night away. He was attractive. And the more drinks I had, the more bold I got. However, at a certain point, I was so drunk I couldn’t even stand on my own. He didn’t put me in a cab, he took me to his hotel room. All I remember is being on the bed, my clothes being taken off, and falling asleep. I don’t even know what his dick looked like. I only know it was in me because, well, when you wake up the next morning, you know when a dick’s been in you. Not a hand. Not a dildo. A dick. Let’s just say there are “dickstinct” differences. We had a brief convo. He said he’d keep in touch. He got in a cab. I didn’t hear from him for two weeks. I texted him that I was shocked to have not heard from him and that wasn’t the behavior of a stand-up dude. He called me, yelling into my phone that I had no right to tell him how to be a man. That was the end of that. Now, was that rape? A large part of me says yes. A smaller part of me says no. The bottom line, however, is that if you have to ask, at the very least, it wasn’t right. #metoo

  “BITCHES AIN’T SHIT”

  Hip-hop really did a number on us. Y’all know I love hip-hop ’til the day I die, but like calling out your problematic uncle who is being a bit too out of pocket with the young ladies in the family, we must check our own. More on this on this page . . .

  CATCALLING

  The reality is catcalling is simply rooted in men who think all or at least one of the below:

  1. Women don’t deserve basic respect.

  2. Women are waiting for men to acknowledge them so they could walk right up and offer up their bodies like cookies for Santa on Christmas.

  3. Women are deaf.

  These are the only explanations I can drum up for why any adult would think it’s okay to say sexual, body-objectifying, degrading things to women on the street and consider it a “compliment.” Furthermore, a man offering up his dick IS NOT A COMPLIMENT.

  WHAT IS CONSENT?

  Consent is a RESOUNDING YES! It is the verbal equivalent to joining the electric slide. It’s jumping in with both feet! It is being an EQUAL participant! It is continuing to say YES! It is important to know that if at some point YES turns to NO!, THE TRAIN STOPS. Consent does not have to continue. It is not a blood oath or an unbreakable contract. Whether you arrive in someone’s hotel room with the intent to have sex—whether you begin messing around and there is intent to have sex—whether you are IN THE MIDDLE OF SEX—if the circumstances change and you are no longer:

  Cognizant

  Enjoying it

  Conscious

  Awake

  In the mood

  You DO NOT HAVE TO CONTINUE. And no one should force you to.

  SLUT-SHAMING

  This practice of judging a woman’s character based on her sexual interactions is tired and baseless. It is rooted in a desire to limit sexual independence and continue the patriarchal narrative that women are sexual objects and, as they are men’s possessions, have no right to their own sexual agency. Your Vagenda ain’t nobody’s business but your own!

  GEM DROPPIN’

  Sexual Harassment vs. Hollering

  IN 2018 A COUP OF SORTS HAPPENED IN HOLLYWOOD when major players Harvey Weinstein, Russell Simmons, Louis C.K., and more were outed for their inappropriate, and in many cases predatory, behaviors toward women in or seeking to be in their employ.* Though the #metoo movement had begun in 2006, started by educator Tarana Burke to help survivors of sexual violence, particularly young women of color from low-income communities, find pathways to healing, it crossed over to Hollywood and became the rally cry for an industry of women fed up with patriarchy and surprise penises finding their way into their career paths. This started a new dialogue that included inquiry from so many men on what the distinction is between sexual harassment and hollering. The confusion was shocking really (not really). The common discourse was, “How am I supposed to approach women if anything I say in the romantic direction is considered sexual harassment?!” Well, first off, calm your balls. As with most things, there is a spectrum and when you put the two on either end, what’s in the middle is mainly about courtesy and consideration.

  Remember that commercial that came out in the ’80s on the heels of the Anita Hill/Clarence Thomas hearing? A scene in a workplace shows a woman being groped by her boss and she looks him square in the eye and says, “This is sexual harassment and I don’t have to take it!” It seems cheesy now, but that was an effective ad because that clear and direct way of thinking has stuck with me on my path through various entertainment industries. Although the ad took place in a work setting, sexual harassment can take place anywhere. It’s simply the concept of harassing someone by making unsolicited sexual advances/comments. That dude at your job who keeps making little comments about your ass when you’re just trying to make a latte? Sexual harassment. That guy on the train who’s looking you dead in the eye while he gropes himself? That’s sexual harassment. That time Russell Simmons asked me in a business meeting, “Hey Amanda, have we ever fucked?” YUP! That was
sexual harassment, too. The thing is, even though we know we don’t have to take it, so many of us get stuck doing exactly that because it is typically administered by individuals in positions of power who can affect our livelihood. These individuals know that, and they use it as their shield in order to harass people without consequence. This stems from the old guard patriarchal platform that views women as objects. It’s no wonder so many men feel disarmed at the revelation of what sexual harassment involves and how present it is in their daily interactions. Once aware, it forces them to have to consider new modes of approach and levels of respect that previously had not been expected of them. Get over it and get into it. Women are on the rise. We are taking ownership of our agency, our talents, and our voices. We are moving forward with momentum and focus that is toppling previously conceived notions of gender roles and the like. In this new direction, the hyper masculinity that supports sexual harassment as a practice has no place.

  Fear not homeboys, there is a way to holler that does not resemble sexual harassment. For instance, I was walking down the street in LA to my car, and I heard a brotha’s voice behind me saying, “Excuse me, miss, excuse me.” My New Yorker self was doing the quick walk ingrained in our being and I did not slow my roll. He persisted. Finally, I turned around and asked, “Wassup?” The six-footish homie, in cargo shorts and a button-up, gathered himself and said, “First and foremost you are an incredible specimen of femininity.” I was pleasantly surprised at the word choice and after thanking him, he continued. “I was wondering if there was a possibility that maybe perhaps at a later date, we could possibly get dinner sometime.” Though I appreciated his mode of advancement, I wasn’t interested, and he was still a stranger. I gave him the universal woman go-to for a nice no, “I’m sorry, I have a man” (this is often responded to with, “You can’t have friends?!”) but he simply replied, “He’s a lucky dude. Have a nice day” and walked away. That’s it!!! Nothing mean. Nothing imposing. Nothing sexual. He shot his shot and kept it moving, head held high! Now, we all know there are MANY ways men approach women. I think most women agree with me that far too often, when approached in the street, it’s done aggressively and without any real consideration for them. There is also very often sexual innuendo included. None of this is necessary or okay. You can “holler” at a woman without doing any of this. This young man in LA demonstrated it perfectly. His approach was polite. His intro was without sexual reference, and at no point did I feel unsafe. If more dudes considered women as individuals in their holleration tactics rather than simply as sexual objects, they would have a way better outcome and more positive responses.

  The key to hollering in a way that does not encroach upon sexual harassment is simply that: leave the sex out. The reality, though, is too many dudes approach women for their bodies, not their minds, and when we respond using our minds they are put off. If you’re in a workplace, it’s even MORE imperative. Especially if you are the superior to the person of interest. In that case, you should chill. You don’t want to put someone in a position where they feel like they if they reject your advancement it would create an awkward work environment. Love is a beautiful thing, and there’s nothing wrong with going after it, but being mindful of when and how is something everyone needs to consider before they step into a person’s space.

  In 2013, I was asked to come on CNN to discuss a video that had gone viral of a young woman walking through New York City and being catcalled along the way. The woman, ambiguous in ethnicity (read: you can tell she wasn’t white but you don’t know how not white she was) was wearing leggings and a T-shirt. Nothing crazy. And as she walked, she got the attention of men who said/yelled a bevy of verbiage her way, ranging from compliments on her beauty, to acknowledgment of her booty, and of course how both make them feel. The panel I was on quickly devolved from a discussion to a debate when the white man on the panel of three (which also included the host, Fredricka Whitfield) piped up IN DEFENSE of catcalling, and proceeding to tell a nation of women that, “If it had been handsome men doing the yelling they would be alright with it because all women love getting compliments.” I do not support the notion that says if a dude approaches you, outside of work, in a respectful way, with a romantic advancement (note: I did not say a sexual advancement) that it is sexual harassment. I also don’t support the notion that says, if a stranger on the street says, “You look nice,” or any other compliment, that it is sexual harassment. The key is in noting what is a compliment and that even though the dude may have given a compliment or approached, IT DOESN’T MEAN THE WOMAN MUST RESPOND.

  There have been many advancements in the world, but there is still a long way to go before “stranger danger” ain’t a thing, and many women simply don’t feel comfortable conversing, even to simply say “Thank you” to men they don’t know who are commenting on their appearance. Unfortunately, this failure to respond has too many times led to a hurt ego that in turn caused a man to respond with hurtful words. We’ve all heard, “That’s why you an ugly bitch!” or the remix of that. In some cases, the man/men has sought to hurt or even kill the woman. Until violence against women stops or is at the very least aggressively challenged by the justice system, there will be a certain reserve for safety that sometimes simply means silence. Sexual harassment has been ingrained in our society for so long that it can be difficult to discern its difference from hollering. That said, the bottom line is you should never be made to feel uncomfortable in any environment, be it work or otherwise, by someone’s pursuit of your attention. Even if they’re your boss, even if they’re a friend, even if they’re a stranger, always remember, you have agency, so you DON’T have to take it.

  Hip-Hop and the Culture That Hates Us

  THAT ONE TIME

  A woman being disrespected in hip-hop is nothing new. As much as I love hip-hop, I think we can all pretty much agree it hasn’t been the best about requiting that love to us ladies. We all sing along to songs like “Bitches Ain’t Shit” and “Ain’t No Fun,” brushing aside the wildly misogynistic lyrics because, well, it’s hip-hop and we’ve made it “okay.” We conjure up all kinds of explanations to cushion our cognitive dissonance; “It’s self-expression!” “The beat is really what I’m dancing to!” and the all-time classic, “Well, he ain’t talking ’bout ME!” Be real, we’ve all said all of these at one point or another to excuse ourselves from basically willingly taking part in the marring of our own femininity at the hands of a male MC. So the beat goes on, along with the beat-down of our worth, as disrespect gets packaged as entertainment. It’s just the way it is. I wish it stopped there. However, unfortunately, it doesn’t.

  See the thing about art is it often imitates life, and vice versa, creating somewhat of a conundrum of cause and effect. Now, I don’t know which came first, the chicken or the egg, or in this case the chickenhead or the MC, but somehow the disrespect that was being put on wax began being put in the mix. Many of the men on the mic who were disrespecting and objectifying women in their songs began doing that in reality. Which then trickled down to their crews, to behind-the-scenes professionals, and to fans, until it became a known part of the culture.

  I’m not saying it was embraced by all, but few challenged it. I’ve always said that hip-hop is a cockfest and women simply don’t have any party favors. Meaning the culture, as much as women were a vital part of building it and are a vital part of living, sustaining, and nurturing it, is a man’s world. Therefore women, by nature of being, well, women, will never get an equal shake. So when faced with that all-too-common less-than treatment, many of us women of the hip-hop guard are put in the predicament of having to put up or shut up. We want to be taken seriously as members of this rhythmic realm, so even though the instinct may be, “Wait this doesn’t feel right. I shouldn’t let this rock,” the common reaction chosen is to just “be cool.”

  Nothing gets checked or challenged. Like I said, hip-hop is a man’s world, and by crying foul you easily get ostracized, labeled a “bitch” or, d
are I say, a “diva,” or even worse, “weak.” “Can’t handle the heat, stay out the studio.” We allow ourselves to become “one of the guys” in order to fit in and prosper, letting countless infractions of disrespect go down. (Have you ever heard of someone claiming “sexual harassment” in hip-hop? Me neither.) Thus, the behavior continues, and with the anonymity of the internet it has only worsened.

  When I was hosting the Fifth Annual Roots Picnic in Philly, during a performance by the rapper Wale, I tweeted:

  This ni99a Wale just moonwalked on stage.

  I’m always amazed at the love women have for him

  Lol He be rappin tho

  The Wale I had come to know was an underground emcee who appealed to a mostly male audience and spit about Nike boots and Seinfeld. So to see him dancing onto the stage, to women screaming for him à la Marvin in his heyday, and doing so without forfeiting his lyricism, tickled me to type. Back on his bus he saw the tweet, inquired about where I was, and brazenly approached me while I sat on stage taking in De La Soul’s amazing set. Furiously, he demanded an explanation for the tweet, yelling, “So if I tweeted that I’m amazed at how men like you, you wouldn’t be upset?”