Maybe you had hoped to find a job that allowed you to practice your feminism and social justice activism professionally, and it didn’t work out. Maybe your chosen field simply has nothing to do with your activism at all. Either is perfectly okay! You don’t have to work in the movement to be a feminist.
But just because your job isn’t feminist in scope doesn’t mean you can’t find ways to incorporate your social justice practices into the workplace. The best professional advice I’ve ever received was at a workshop on finding a job in the movement. One of the speakers on the panel immediately did away with the panel’s topic, telling the group that you do not need to work in the movement to have a feminist job. She told us that it is up to each of us to take the spaces we already occupy and transform them into something feminist. The speaker was right. You probably spend the majority of your waking hours at work, so why shouldn’t you transform it into the kind the kind of place you actually want to be in? We all deserve access to safe, supportive, and – yes – even feminist work spaces.
Libraries are like a playground for your mind, and sometimes, children’s libraries can even look like playgrounds. We love it when a library is as imaginative and creative as the stories that fill them.
To celebrate the magic of children’s libraries we found some of the most creative children’s…
Germans: Oh you’re learning German? Hey, you’re not so bad at it. Don’t fuck it up though.
French: About time you learned French.
Russians, Koreans, Spanish-speakers: WOW YOU’RE LEARNING MY LANGUAGE? LET ME HELP YOU I CAN GET SOME MATERIALS FOR YOU AND RECOMMEND SOME SITES AND VIDEOS, DID YOU JUST SAY “HELLO” IN MY LANGUAGE? YOU ARE SO GREAT WOW I AM SO IMPRESSED
Dutch: but why would you do this
why would you do this
My friends: No, no, why is your accent so terrible? Never say any of this in public, my word.
Their parents: Aw, that’s so cute. You’re doing very well. Keep up the good work!
“Though from afar it’s easy to imagine the publishing business as either a collection of jaded gatekeepers who enjoy affirming their superiority by rejecting your work, or as a bunch of crass entertainment execs chasing the next megahit, I’ve been disappointed to find that it’s actually neither. Everyone who I’ve encountered in the book biz—from editorial to sales—seems disarmingly genuine about their love of books, and their jobs are pretty much like everyone else’s in the world, which is to say torn between reconciling their passion with the realities of the market. Every book they publish, especially if it’s by a first-time writer, is a risk to them and their reputation, and it’s one they take because they personally responded to the book. This was a revelation to me, the fact that the grand faceless facade of New York publishing turned out to be a collection of surprisingly normal people, all of whom were looking to fall in love with a manuscript.”—
The Baker Street Babes were invited as guests to Dash Con. At the time we were excited at the prospect. Friday we had our panel and live podcast and everything was great. It was lovely to see so many of you and to meet you. Our audiences were superb.
And then disaster struck.
We became uncomfortable with how Dash Con was proceeding after they asked their attendees, all of who had already paid for passes, to bail them out with $17,000-$20,000.
As our official obligations had concluded, we decided to withdraw from having a table or having anything to do with the convention. Liz changed her flight to leave earlier.
As you all know, things went from bad to worse with Welcome To Night Vale. Then Noelle (Gingerhaze) was left to foot her own bill. It became rapidly apparent that Dash Con wasn’t holding onto their part of the bargain and we had a feeling we were next.
And we were.
When Liz and Lyndsay checked in, their rooms, as promised, were on the Dash Con account. When Liz checked out this morning, she found that card had been removed and she was left to foot the bill. She called three of the con directors (Roxanne, Megg, and Cain) informed them all of the situation, saying that if they did not resolve it she would be calling her lawyer.
She waited until she had to leave for the airport. None returned her call or came to the lobby. Lyndsay checked to see if her room was still under Dash Con’s name, and it wasn’t.
I understand some guests have had their stay paid for, while others of us haven’t. Dash Con is picking and choosing who they want to pay. They’re going against their agreements. They’re doing nothing but lying and being incredibly deceitful.
We are not going to be scammed out of money. Not only is it money we do not have, but it’s money that we are not supposed to pay. We’re not letting Dash Con get away with this. We will be taking the appropriate legal action if they fail to pay, and we highly encourage anyone else in the same boat and with the means to do so to do the same.
The hotel manager and staff have been nothing but gracious in attempting to help us. They’ve been following the entire debacle on twitter and tumblr. They know what’s going on.
We hardly want to enter into a lawsuit, but we cannot just “take the hit.” Also, Dash Con doesn’t deserve to get off the hook. Admit to what you’ve done. Pay back the hundreds of people you’ve shamelessly taken money from.
“Lea was the kind of person you join Facebook to stalk. At 16, I was in love with her in a not-entirely platonic way, which every woman who has been the sidekick in a teenage girl-duo will completely understand. And, like a true sidekick, I didn’t question our bad choices—I followed Lea whole hog, in the spirit of best-friendship, of adventure. But part of me anticipated the person who writes this now, by which I mean that even as we chased a night of cocaine with Xanax and Lifetime movies, I already knew that this was the stuff of my wayward youth, and that I’d outgrow it. We promised to be friends forever, but then I went away to college in New York City and she moved to Costa Rica with her boyfriend of the moment. After that, I watched her downward spiral from afar—or more precisely, from close-up, only separated by a computer screen.”—
One of my favorite writers, Julie Buntin, has a sad and beautiful piece in The Atlantic today about grief, friendship, technology, growing apart, moving on, getting stuck, and missing someone. It might make you cry but it’s worth it.
Illustration from a late 15th century Ghent manuscript (via Wikimedia)
In the turbulent times of early modern Europe, hundreds of thousands of Medieval manuscripts were taken from church libraries and scattered throughout the world. Even private collections weren’t safe; tastes were…