Because women matter, and so do their voices.
Over the past couple of years, I made a conscious effort to pursue activities that have always interested me, but that I had previously avoided out of my own fears or insecurities. One such activity was kickboxing. As a teenager, I admired the courage, strength, and fierce realness of the women who participated in male-dominated sports but did not yet have the confidence to enter into these spaces so outside my comfort zone. Initially, I
A few weeks ago, I was having drinks with an ex-colleague who told me a story about my previous boss. This supervisor, “Tina,” had recently gone off during a work party, condemning the many sexual abusers coming to light. She brought up her daughters and how it infuriated her that they had to watch out for those who might harass or demean them. Beer to my lips, I smiled and shook my head with disbelief.
When I was 19 and I read the part of “Tracee” on The Sopranos, I immediately knew I would play her, and I knew I wanted to play her because there was something about her story that I understood so well and wanted to do justice to. I had never seen The Sopranos, but I knew it was a gangster show with plenty of violence and misogyny. Tracee was a young mother, stripping at the
I’m a straight, white, male, Brooklynite attorney in his early thirties. I was raised by two avowed feminists in an affluent Philadelphia suburb. I studied at elite universities and always took pride in representing progressive viewpoints to my friends and classmates. I tangle with conservatives on social media. I donate to Planned Parenthood. I worked the polls for Hillary. I am, to be sure, a pure embodiment of the self-satisfied limousine liberalism that the right
