Your Weekend Crushes

As promised, here are some My Weekend Crush perks from you, my extremely generous friends. Please enjoy and let’s all crush on these amazing women together.

Dar Williams, for Sally G

If we really gave out Honorary Lesbian Hot Plates, Dar Williams might be the first on the list to receive the illustrious award. The longtime singer-songwriter, who Ms. magazine dubbed the “intellectual folk queen,” was a staple on the college progressive circuit in the 90s. And remains today a radical and resonate voice worth an honored straight-but-definitely-not-narrow spot on anyone’s favorite LGBT artist playlist. I mean, she wrote a song about lesbian pagans in 1996, come on.

Jennifer Beals, for Ying Z
Speaking of honorary lesbians, you can’t bronze enough hot plates to honor Jennifer Beals. Just say her name in a group of lesbians and you’re bound to get a low, involuntary moan from the crowd. Mmmm, Jennifer Beals. Because, let’s be honest, we all love a bossy Alpha sometimes. And there is no better than Alpha Bette. This Crush is dedicated to Sabrina Liu.

Zoie Palmer, for @jocool70
Some women are just lesbian catnip. (Please see above and Alex Vause.) And they don’t get more catnippy than Zoie. From the first moment her big, warm brown eyes pierced into our souls, we were hooked. I’ve stopped eating apples entirely out of hopes that one day Dr. Hotpants will pay me a house call. Hey, you have your dreams, I have mine.

Fabiola Gianotti, for Audrey Z
Italian particle physicist Fabiola Gianotti leader a team of the top physicists in the world that helped to discover a little insignificant thing called the “God Particle” last year (well, Higgs boson if you must be formal). Finding what could be the particle responsible for all the mass in the universe is just your average no big deal. Except the opposite. The achievement earned her runner-up status as Time’s 2012 Person of the Year. So if you ever hear anyone tell you girls can’t do math and science, tell them to stick it up their Higgs boson. But first, they’ll need Fabiola Gianotti to find it for them.

Michelle “Shelly” Jane Allen, for Andrea Shively

[Clockwise from Top: Andrea, Ty, Shelly and Gray]

They met long ago, in that galaxy far, far away. Shelly and Andrea, set up on a blind date to go see the 20th anniversary rerelease of “Star Wars.” Their relationship progressed like so many relationships – the adventure of late night phone calls, the excitement of Uh-Haul move ins, the thrill of parenthood and the sparkle of wedding rings. Shelly was a fourth grade teacher for 11 years and Andrea’s rock for 16. The couple adopted two sons together – Ty and Gray. In October 2008, before Californians voted in that most awful Proposition 8, they married. And though the last eight and a half years Shelly fought that most awful of all – cancer. First breast cancer, which was found when she was only 30. Then two years later she had preventative surgery to remove her uterus and ovaries. Two years later still a local reoccurrence of breast cancer popped up (found two days before their wedding day). Two years later again, thyroid cancer was found – this time in Andrea. Then on New Year’s Eve Day 2010, Shelly was diagnosed with cancerous Stage IV tumor in her tibia. Then it was discovered there was cancer throughout her bones – including a tumor pressing on her spine that forced her to quit teaching in 2012. Finally, in June of this year, at age 38, Shelly lost her fight with cancer. But the measure of a life is never its breadth or in simply breathing. What matters isn’t fame or wealth or power. What matters is the love we spread while we’re here. And while Shelly belongs to the stars now, Andrea, Ty and Gray remain a testament to that love on Earth. Rest in peace, Shelly.

Fostering our Future

The new fantastic, flashy, female-fronted shows of the season have received seemingly endless and endlessly deserving ink. We all love “Orphan Black” and “Orange Is the New Black,” like a lot a lot a lot a lot lot lot. But there’s a quieter, also deserving show of the summer that has been quietly revolutionary in its own way. And that show is “The Fosters.”

At its surface, it’s just another family drama. Big brood faces adversities large and small. Heartwarming familial love triumphs over everything. But there are also some obvious and and obviously important differences. This is a two-mama drama, a household led by two gay women who are in a committed (and now legally recognized) relationship. And this, this makes all the difference.

We humans are a visual bunch. We like to be shown, not told. We like to see what makes us different and makes us the same. In the absence of those visual and personal cues we have this terrible tendency to believe the worst in each other. Racial stereotypes. Gender stereotypes. LGBT stereotypes. Those stereotypes can breed bigotry, hatred and violence. Most of that – not all, clearly, but most – comes from ignorance. People naturally fear what they don’t know and don’t understand. So showing them, exposing them, to these things becomes even more important.

Television has always been a powerful medium for shedding light in dark places. Too often it gets used to feed us comfort and laugh tracks. But at its best it’s a mirror of our best selves. Of the world we should be seeing and need to see – a world reflecting our richness and diversity. A world where we’ve all got a place around that proverbial table. What we do once we get there, well, that’s on us. But we should all be allowed to sit together at least to start.

And that – taking the long road home – brings me back to “The Fosters.” TV has never shown us a more clear picture of lesbian parenting (sorry, Callie and Arizona – but that baby’s kind of a glorified prop) than this little ABC Family drama that could. A blended family, a multi-ethnic family, a LGBT family, a loving family – “The Fosters” is all these things, yet in the end just simply family. This is a show about a family, and while the individual components of this family may be different from yours, we all recognize its universal mission. Protect one another, support another, love one another. These are things we all understand.

So when we see two women doing these things for their family, even if on TV, it matters. It matters because it models – for those who have never seen or dreamed or realized it before – what an LGBT family looks like. That we’re no so scary, not so terrible, not so other. To quote little Scout Finch, “I think there's just one kind of folks. Folks.”

Of course, all of this modeling wouldn’t mean much if the show itself wasn’t so very solid. If you didn’t tear up at least once – something in my eye, it was something in my eye, dammit – during its 10-episode summer run then I attribute it to severe dehydration and recommend you drink more fluids immediately. Some shows just try too hard (cough, “The New Normal,” cough) to show the new LGBT family. But “The Fosters” didn’t have to strain to make us believe, it just got down to the business of showing us.

Whether it was how a lesbian family handles parenting alongside one of the children’s birth father or deals with embarrassment from another child about being nontraditional, the situations – and how they handled them – felt organic. This show could have easily been like an After School Special of the Week. But instead it made the mundane extraordinary. Parents, families, deal with the silly to the life-threatening and for the most part all they have is humor, grit and that all-important glue of love to get through them.

Lena and Stef, along the way, became TV’s first legally married LGBT couple since the Supreme Court overturned Prop. 8 and DOMA in the summer season finale on Monday. And in doing so showed people on the most basic level how what happens in Washington D.C. matters in the living rooms of everyday Americans across this county. Elections have consequences. Legal rulings change lives. Lena and Stef can get married and the government will recognize them as such. And, better yet, we’re happy it does – we’re happy for them.

In the end, “The Fosters” worked because we could always feel the love. It never waivers, and shone through every possible obstacle. Seeing truly is believing. I sure can’t wait to see them again in January.

Not what the Doctor ordered

Boring. Perfectly acceptable choice, perfectly fine actor, perfectly predictable result. No spoilers, just another white male Doctor Who. Like I said, boring. I mean, sure, instead of being a young white dude this time we have a slightly older white dude. Huuzah! Because middle-aged white men get so few breaks in this business, you know?

But it’s no so much the news from this weekend about 55-year-old Scottish actor Peter Capaldi taking over as Doctor Who that’s upsetting. And, yes, I know he’s a very good actor and very funny and very all of those good things. It’s that once you’ve been offered a glimmer of hope at a smorgasbord of endless wonder, to be given the same – albeit slightly older – dish seems a terrible disappointment. Really, mashed potatoes, again? I mean, I like mashed potatoes – who doesn’t. But, again?

That’s the thing about the world, the more we see the more we grow. And the more we’re exposed to, the more we want to see. I want to see great shows with great diversity because it opens the door to a whole new world. More can mean more interesting. Sure, not always. Sometimes less is more. Sometimes. But more gives us the chance to tell a different kind of story. A female doctor, a doctor of another race, a LGBTQ doctor. Anything, something. Just not more of the same. Same can be quite good, but it will never be more.

I watch shows like “Orange Is the New Black” and “The Fosters” and, yes, even “Glee” and I see racially, culturally and sexually diverse casts not led by a single white male and it is glorious. But they are still the exception, not the rule. NBC’s new fall lineup is entirely shows built around male leads. Time yourself and try to name 10 shows on broadcast primetime TV with non-white and/or non-male leads (that are not primarily a large ensemble show without a definitive lead) in less than a minute. After Shonda Rhimes creations, it gets damn complicated.

Look, TV producers, the time is now. The world is big. Take a chance, be different. Stop giving us mashed potatoes and expecting us to keep getting excited with each subsequent dish. And stop insisting it’s us ladies who keep telling we will only accept mashed potatoes (Really, Stephen Moffat, really?).

What I lament in the latest Doctor Who announcement isn’t the actor, who I am sure will do a fine job. But the missed opportunity to give us something so very new and so very exciting. Just like our taste bus, our minds need new flavors to stay alert. In a world that’s always bigger on the inside, why keep giving us the same superficial outside? Seems a shame, sweetie. A damn, damn shame.

p.s. I for one think they should have bent space and time and made River Song the next doctor. I mean, they fly around in a blue police box with a swimming pool in the basement, anything is fucking possible.

For Russia, With Hope

How do we solve a problem like Russia’s treatment of gays? The recent wave of political and physical violence against LGBT rights and people simply cannot be ignored. At a time when many other parts of the world are starting to finally embrace us fully as equal and worthy, Russia is going backwards with angry fists flying.

- Gay Pride parade banned in Russia for 100 years.
- Law against foreign LGBT couples adopting Russian children.
- Law against spreading “gay propaganda” to minors, effectively making it illegal to call same-sex and straight relationships equal.
- Anti-gay violence and attacks on the rise, including the targeting, torture and humiliation of gays online via social media.

Over the summer almost every attempt to hold peaceful Pride Parades or rallies have ended in violence, arrests and blood. It’s not pretty and it’s very real.

So now the question become, how does the LGBT community and its allies best protest these atrocities? How do we get this to stop? It’s not an easy question and there are no easy answers. It will all come to a head this winter when the Olympic Games come to Sochi, Russia. LGBT athletes and spectators will show up in a country that decidedly does not want them there. And us fans at home must decide how watching them in a backdrop filled with such hate.

So far, response has been varied. Some say boycott the Sochi Olympics. Others say don’t boycott the Sochi Olympics. Some say boycott Russian vodka. Others say don’t boycott Russian vodka. And Lady Gaga tweeted. Boycotts, backlashes and Gaga, oh my.

The truth is, there’s no one right way to make change. Boycotting the Olympics hurts the athletes who train a lifetime for their chance at glory. Boycotting Stoli hurts a company that has been incredibly LGBT friendly over its history. Not boycotting either sends a message of passive acceptance. Perhaps letting the Olympics proceed, but reporting on its human rights violations is the answer. Or drinking Stoli, yet pressuring its owners to put pressure on its mother country is the answer. More likely, all kinds of combinations of all kinds of responses, while always pressing for change, is the ultimate answer. What I know is we can’t stop talking about it, we can’t stop exposing it for what it is, we can’t stop supporting the brave LGBT people and allies in Russia who are facing jail, beatings and even death fighting for their rights. So I guess the only answer that isn’t an option is to close our eyes.

That’s Out Raven

I am of the age that remembers Raven-Symoné more as little Olivia on the Cosby show as the eponymous Raven of “That’s So Raven.” Now be quiet and fetch me my slippers, honey, my stories are on. But old age jokes aside, the former Disney star’s coming out on Friday mattered. It mattered for all the reasons coming out normally matters. Visibility, openness, acceptance, etc. Also, how great is it to have another famous out woman of color? So great. But it also mattered in the way that it happened, not to mention the medium.

Coming out casually is all the rage. The afterthought outing via a short mention in a larger profile in a classy publication (à la Parsons and Quinto) has been the preferred modus operandi of saying “Yep, I’m Gay” in the media for a while now. Recently, more anti-cover story ways of getting your toaster over have also been en vogue. There was the aside in a press release route that Sarah Huffman (a.k.a. Abby Wambach’s, uh, frequent red carpet date). And then yesterday there was Raven coming out via, of all things, Twitter. What do we call that? A twouting? No, that sounds like a strange lesbian fish.

I can finally get married! Yay government! So proud of you

— Raven-Symonè (@MissRavenSymone) August 2, 2013

She been out, momma just didn't have time for bullshit. and I LIVVVEEE "@_BeatrixKiddoo: You better come out sis. @MissRavenSymone"

— Golden Oreo. (@H8teTheeSquares) August 2, 2013

I particularly like that she clarified her coming out tweet with a yes, really, this means she’s actually out, retweet.

To be honest, Twitter as a coming out medium makes a lot of sense. Short, sweet, direct - type 140, hit send, be happy. And it is the epitome of the no-big-deal, still-a-big-deal nature of coming out for today’s celebrities. Also, I think we can all agree that from here on out, “That’s So Raven” is the new “Yep, I’m Gay.”

p.s. Yeah, I know Raven was so about a month late in commenting. But, hey, better late than continually oblivious I guess.

Please Hold

Greetings kittens,

A quick note to let you know why I am running a wee behind today on this weekend's My Weekend Crush. It is because I am working on Your Weekend Crush, that is, completing the Weekend Crushes of you fine folks who donated at that perk level. Stupidly belated, I know. But I am getting through them all because a promise is a promise. Expect them to begin posting through the weekend next weekend.

In the meantime, here is a gentle reminder that there are plenty of other daily ways to get your Snarker fix, if you're in to that kind of thing.

Find me on AfterEllen.
Find me on Twitter.
Find me on Tumblr.
Find me on Instagram.

Ugh, great, now I'm sick of me. Thanks so much for coming to my little corner of the series of tubes and for your patience. Also, you're pretty.

Everybody Dance Now

Thursday dance break, y’all. So, I’ll admit, “Rizzoli & Isles” recap season takes a lot of my brain power and funnels it into me, staring at a lit screen in the middle of the night and thinking, “What’s another way to say, ‘These two would totally be fucking in the real world?’” (p.s. You can read those recaps here, by the way. This week’s recap should post a little later today. Please and thank you for the clicks/comments.)

So today I just need to shake it out. Like get up and move the body. Or, you know, watch other people get up and move their bodies. Vicarious dancing is a thing, people. A thing. And because “Orphan Black” and “Orange Is the New Black” are my two favorite pop culture addictions at the moment, please enjoy these totally unsolicited, but totally irresistible dance breaks.

Helena from “Orphan Black”

This is exactly how you’d think Helena would dance.

Alison from “Orphan Black”
This is not how you’d except Alison to dance. Daaaayum.

Taystee from “Orange Is the New Black”

I am so excited that Danielle Brooks got promoted to a series regular. Mo Taystee, mo better.

Big Boo from “Orange Is the New Black”

With an assist from Crazy Eyes. Man, I could write an essay about my love to Crazy Eyes. You’ve been warned.

Got some favorite dance breaks? Sharing is caring, ladies.