Tagged: United States

Schoolin’ Life: Sarah Klinger

In today’s installment of Schoolin’ Life, we get to know illustrator Sarah Klinger.

Sarah K

Illustration by Elizabeth Baddeley

When you were in your 20s…

 What expectations did you have for yourself over the coming decade?

I’m still not clear on my expectations for myself, but I was especially frantic in my early 20s. I saw what looked like two clear paths emerge before me. The first was to find a steady job at a company where I could work my way up, doing something I could stand. This is what most people I knew did, and it seemed like a sensible and realistic expectation—to be comfortable and somewhat unsatisfied existentially.

The second option was to pursue something I was passionate about, which I assumed would mean a very unpredictable and stressful existence.

 In what ways did society shape your expectations of yourself?

As per my answer above, I think that society tells you that as an artist you must either suffer, sell out or give up art to be financially successful. Why can’t we have it all?

What was your first job like?

My first “real” job out of college was very much along the first imagined career path because it had little to do with my passions or interests. But I got to work with a lot of really smart, interesting and compassionate people, and that counted for a lot.

What was your first apartment like?

My first apartment was kind of shabby and not terribly functional, but I am still kind of in love with it. Kind of like most things in my 20s.

In what ways did your friendships change?

I didn’t expect my friendships to grow closer in my twenties—I figured that we would be too distracted by trying to carve out our places in the world. But, as I should have realized, that struggle makes having close friends even more important.

How do you feel society viewed you?

It feels like society views young people, young girls especially, as reckless consumers. In every sense. But I admit that didn’t try very hard to prove them wrong. Actually, I still feel that way.

How did your worldview change over the course of the decade?

It’s such a cliché, but the more I see of the world, the less it feels like I understand it. I love to speculate and generalize about other people’s feelings and motivations all over the world, but my own experiences have been so narrow that I don’t have a good perspective at all.

Who was your biggest influence and why?

My collective family and friends were my biggest influence. Who else can you trust?

Is there any one experience that you feel defined the decade? Or one historical moment that changed you?

In my early twenties, I remember telling my mom that art wasn’t important because nobody ever died without it. Even if I could admit that art brings happiness to people and makes the world fuller, I wasn’t talented enough to make a difference.

But the more I traveled, the more I started to feel the obvious thing that people have been telling me forever, which is how lucky I am. I felt it more than ever when I took a trip to India with my brother. Another cliché, I know!

Most people (and women especially) don’t get to decide what they do in their lives, but I do. What an arrogant waste it would be to throw away my chance to do what I want. Does it even matter if art is important to the world? I’m responsible for what art means to me, and I’d be an idiot to let the opportunity pass me by.

Do you have any regrets? Are there things you wish you’d done, hadn’t done, or done differently?

Of course I wish that I had really felt this urgency to go into the arts when I was in college, or even high school. I might be much further along in my career by now.

But another part of my counters that maybe starting out in art would mean I didn’t want it as much? Ruminating on what I ought to have done is pointless because nobody grows in a perfectly straight line. Things just get better and better.

Dame of the Day: Sarah Reinertsen

Sarah Reinertsen

Today’s Dame of the Day is Sarah Reinertsen (May 22, 1975-). As a child, Reinertsen lost her left leg to proximal femoral focal deficiency, a rare bone disorder. She started running at age 11; two years later at her first track meet, she broke the 100 meter record for female above-knee amputees. As an adult, she decided to go long and became the first female above-knee amputee to complete the Ironman. Currently, Reinertsen is preparing for the sprint triathlon competition at the 2016 Paralympic Games.

Schoolin’ Life: Eleanor Davis

For today’s edition of Schoolin’ Life, we get to know cartoonist and illustrator Eleanor Davis.

eleanor


Give us a quick bio: who are you, what are you into, and how do you spend your days?

My name is Eleanor Davis, I’m 33 years old. I am a cartoonist & illustrator. I like talking, eating, and riding my bike. I spend a lot of time at my desk.

When you were in your 20s…

What expectations did you have for yourself over the coming decade?

Oh God. I was a mess for a lot of my 20s. I had a lot of expectations and not a lot of them did me much good. I was torn between making art and making money and “making a difference,” I thought I somehow had to become perfect in every way. But in the meantime, I didn’t even know how to, like, feed and bathe myself. So of course I was miserable. Classic!

In what ways did society shape your expectations of yourself?

I think society contributed to my idea that I had to be perfect, and probably to the certainty that I was not. Not sure why or how exactly. A lot of women seem to struggle with that idea, though.

What was your first job like?

My first job in my 20s was working at an ice cream shop. My co-workers and boss were all really, really nice. The customers were usually nice too, although they were mostly tourists. I ate way too much ice cream. In the winter, it would get extremely slow and one of my co-workers made me watch the whole first season of Sex and the City in the back on her laptop.

What was your first apartment like?

My first apartment in my 20s was kind of a pit. But it was on the second floor and you could climb out my bedroom window onto the porch roof and eat dinner and smoke cigarettes. When you jumped up and down in the kitchen, the whole building would shake.

Did you experience any big life changes?

Oh man, these questions are tough. I mean, yes! My husband and I moved from Savannah to Athens where we live now. We got married. I worked really hard at getting good at art, and I basically did, to everyone’s surprise. I decided to quit making art and work at a co-op, and that was good too, because then I figured out that I liked making art after all. I made some friends. I fell in and out and in and out of love, and in again.

In what ways did your friendships change?

I started to have closer friendships. Friendships were hard for me when I was younger, especially friendships with women, for some reason. I don’t think I really understood what being friends with someone meant; I thought it just meant “people who like one another.” Now I think it has something more to do with communication, trust, and showing people who you really are. I used to have a very hard time letting myself trust other people enough to be open with them. I also wasn’t good at letting other people know they could be open with me. Now I’m braver and my friendships are stronger.

What did you learn through your romantic relationships?

I’ve been with my husband, Drew, since I was 19, so I learned a lot about what it’s like to be with one person for a long time. We both have. We’ve learned that it’s really, really hard. We were co-dependent for a while and then we learned to be our own people a little more. We were distant for a while and then we learned to connect a little more. We communicated badly for a long time and pushed stuff down and then we learned to talk it out. Drew is very, very different from me: he’s quiet, and stable, and patient. I’m emotional, impulsive, and loud. We learn a lot from one another for that reason.

How did your relationships with your family change?

I’ve always been super close with my family, to the point that I couldn’t imagine wanting to be alive after my parents were gone. After I started getting better at making friends, I also started to be able to imagine a future where my parents were dead but I hadn’t offed myself. So I guess that’s a positive change.

We are still navigating the weird shift between parents-with-kids and parents-with-adult-kids. I hope I’m easier to be around than I used to be, but I suspect I am not. They are slightly harder to be around. They’re both retired now, & it’s like they’re developing their own arcane language just to use with one another.

How do you feel society viewed you?

A weird, spoiled, abrasive, wimpy, nerdy, asexual woman-child? Which is fine! I am cool with that.

How do you feel you changed emotionally?

I got a lot stronger. I started going to therapy and learned that self-hate wasn’t a good motivator. I learned to be kinder to myself, which strangely helped me get stronger, and helped me support other people more. That was good.

How did you change intellectually?

I got dumber! This is a really irritating thing for me. I’ve gotten a lot lazier, intellectually. I used to read more and stay more engaged with current events, partially out of guilt. When I stopped being motivated by guilt, I stopped doing a lot of things that really were good to do, like listening to the news. I’d like to change that. I don’t like willful ignorance, and I worry that my brain is getting soft.

In what ways do you feel your identity changed?

Simultaneously more masculine and more feminine. Weak and okay with it. More comfortable with considering myself “an artist” (although still – that word, yick).

How did your worldview change over the course of the decade?

My feminism got a lot stronger. I’m more okay with the upcoming apocalypse (not sure if this is positive or negative). More into meditation, hippy shit, etc.

What was the most embarrassing moment?

Please do not make me think about this!

What was your biggest disappointment and how did that affect you later?

Disappointed that I couldn’t work faster, make more art, make more money. Disappointed I couldn’t be a better person, someone who somehow gave back. Disappointed daily in myself. Those things were bad, and they hurt, but I feel pretty good now, and it’s hard to imagine life having gone any other way.

Who was your biggest influence and why?

In my 20s? Personally or artistically? Probably my parents, and my husband, and my best friend, Kate. Like always, like now.

Is there any one experience that you feel defined the decade? Or one historical moment that changed you?

Ummmm. Good question. I was really, really excited about listening to the news in 2008 when the market crashed and it became ultra clear that the Republicans really were full of shit. That laissez-faire economics wasn’t just unethical, it was actively horrible policy. Why is anyone still listening to those idiots?

Camping in the Oregon woods with a bunch of wonderful kids’ book authors and illustrators I’d met over the internet was also really something.

Do you have any regrets? Are there things you wish you’d done, hadn’t done, or done differently?

Oh, Christ. I don’t know.

I wish I hadn’t signed the two-book contract for my first kids’ graphic novel. I wish I’d started going to therapy sooner.

Is there a story that you feel best sums up the decade?

America elected Obama (good, great) and decided that meant we’d gotten rid of all racism (obviously horribly untrue).

New Kid on the Block: Welcome, Broadly

Since their early inception, women’s magazines have dramatically evolved. Back in the day, publications like Family Circle or Woman’s Day peddled recipes, new products, and weigh loss regimes to stay at home moms. But over time, the magazine world woke up to the fact that, in addition to being a portal to the American family, women also have interests of their own. During the 90s resurgence of feminism, magazines like Jane, Bust, and Bitch burst onto the scene and shook up the Cosmopolitan status quo. While it’s unlikely that one publication can cater to everyone woman, the digital age ushered in more opportunities to reach a larger audience.

womens day

Image courtesy of Christian Montone

Back in February, I caught wind of Vice’s new feminist media channel, Broadly, and I admit I was intrigued. I have a hit or miss relationship with Vice. Some of their reporting, like their presence in Baltimore after the murder of Freddie Gray, feels critical; their team explores stories that other major news outlets won’t touch. On the flip side, I tend to roll my eyes at some of their fluffier content; how many headlines that begin “I Took a Lot of Drugs at…” does one media outlet really need?

Tracie Egan Morrissey

Photo courtesy of WWD

However, I’m optimistic about Broadly because it’s perfectly positioned to go in on the women’s issues that make mainstream media uncomfortable. Nobody on CNN is talking about rape, abortion, or even vaginas in the abstract. With editor in chief Tracie Egan Morrissey at the helm, Broadly’s team aims to balance hard-hitting journalism with arts and culture reporting. Based on the channel’s trailer, they’ve already generated a decent body of work. Take a look at what’s new at Broadly and follow them on social media for future updates.

Dame of the Day: Betty Reid Soskin

Betty Ann Sorskin

 

Today’s Dame of the Day is Betty Reid Soskin (September 22, 1921-). Born in Detroit and raised in New Orleans near her Creole and Cajun roots, Soskin and her family later relocated to Oakland, California, after a hurricane and flood destroyed their business. Over the course of her working life, she served as a clerk during World War Two, wrote songs during the Civil Rights Movement, and worked as a field representative to California State Assemblywomen Dion Aroner and Loni Hancock. Through her efforts, Soskin and the Congresswomen were able to establish Rosie the Riveter/WWII Homefront National Historic Park in 2000. Today, she serves as Ranger at the park and, at 93 years old, is the oldest serving National Park Ranger.

Schoolin’ Life: Jen Breach

In today’s installment of Schoolin’ Life, we chat with writer and business analyst Jen Breach.

jen breach

 

Give us a quick bio: who are you, what are you into, and how do you spend your days?

I‘m a 35 year-old Australian living in Brooklyn.  I’m a writer – picture books and graphic novels – and have a day job as a business analyst for systems implementation projects at Barnard College.

When you were in your 20s…

What expectations did you have for yourself over the coming decade?

Oof.  So many.  I truly thought that by 30, I would have a PhD in archaeology and my first novel published.  I was raised with very unhealthy ideas about achievement and perfection.  When I did get to 30, I had an abandoned master’s program and I’d not even finished, let alone pitched or published a book.  Although I understood intellectually that it was okay not have met those unrealistic expectations, I still felt like a failure.

In what ways did society shape your expectations of yourself?

I completely internalized the idea that young women should be pretty, quiet and compliant. How destructive is that?  Those were expectations I could meet, though.  For all the world, I seemed at ease but my own skin grated against me like sandpaper. Oh, to cause a ruckus.

What was your first job like?

I’ve always worked.  I can’t even remember what the first one was. Cleaning houses with my brother?  Or ironing business shirts for a neighbor? It was certainly shitty and poorly paid ☺

What was your first apartment like?

Apartments aren’t common in Australia.  Most students and young people will live in a standalone multi-bedroom family home, sharing with other students. The first place I lived out of my parents’ house was a cute-as-a-button pale yellow weatherboard cottage in a Greek-and-Italian neighborhood in Melbourne. The whole bit: rose garden out the front, concrete back yard with a huge old nectarine tree that the nonna next door would precariously climb the fence to steal from.   I shared the house with an alcoholic, a narcissist and a film student bodhran player.  The arrangement fell apart is a spectacular way after two years but when I think back on it, the sun is shining on that house and the yellow looks lovely against a bright blue sky.

The first true apartment I had was in the East Village when I moved to NYC at 30.  It was a third floor walk up, the smallest space I have ever occupied and completely awesome.

How did your relationships with your family change?

At 19, I came out as bisexual to my parents.  Their response was a quoted bible passage and then we didn’t speak for six years.  It was catastrophic. When we did speak again we didn’t have a single conversation about the estrangement. It took me another nine years for me to talk about it with them and to understand that while ideally a parent will love their child, it’s not always true.

The change, in all its big and tiny ways, was understanding and accepting that the fantasy that mine could be a close, loving, nurturing family was impossible.

In what ways do you feel your identity changed?

I grew up in rural Australia in the 80s.  While Australia is a wealthy, educated Western country, attitudes are still very provincial, especially out of the cities.  I did not even entertain the idea that I was attracted to women until I moved to the city for college at 18.  Understanding that I was bi was like wearing a bespoke suit after two decades of ill-fitting hand-me-downs.  When my parents saw my new suit and disowned me, I was really lost. In some ways I am oddly grateful for that catastrophe – it galvanized the way I saw myself. if I’d paid that enormous, painful price to understand and live my sexual identity, it didn’t make sense to be half assed about it.

The other change in identity came much later in my 20s when I shifted perspective from “I want to be a writer” to “I am a writer”.  I went to the Emerging Writer’s Festival in Melbourne one sunny cold early winter day and had my idea of what it means to be a writer turned completely on its head. I had thought that it meant you had to be published, you had to make a living off it, you had to be a bestseller – you had to have soaring achievement that proves your “claim”.  None of that is true.  You’re a writer if you say so.  I can’t remember the first time I actually said it out loud, but in my imagination I am timidly squeaking with a grimace and an apology.   In the States I see people way more comfortable with calling themselves a writer, or illustrator, or designer or game maker – which is right.  There’s a greater acceptance here of creative pursuit and activity, that you’re a professional if you say so regardless of how you pay your bills. In Australia creative pursuit is a hobby, not a career, especially in comics.  It’s not true though – if you write, you’re a writer.

Do you have any regrets? Are there things you wish you’d done, hadn’t done, or done differently?

I don’t go in for regret. Aren’t we all just doing the best we can with what we’ve got in front of us?  So how can a choice be wrong?  There are always reasons – good or otherwise – for our choices, actions, or lack there of.  Of course, some choices are bad and we misconstrue some reasons as excuses.  But unless we know we are acting intentionally cruelly or unreasonably or evilly, then we could all stand to be a little kinder to ourselves about our choices and cut ourselves a break.

There’s such a disconnect between what we think a thing is and what it actually turns out to be.  We make decisions based on what we know, what we feel and what we can imagine, not on the actual, real future outcome of a choice.  How can we?  If it turns out to be a bad choice then we have more information to work on to make new choices – either with forward momentum or backwards reflection to make amends for past wrongdoing.
Regret is an inability to see the threads of one’s life and an inability to act without shame or ego in the face of our own less-than-ideal choices.  Conscious action of this kind is the hardest thing in the world to do, but it’s a better place to put energy than in regret.

 

 

Dame of the Day: Mahina Maeda

2013 HD World Junior Championships - Mahina Maeda (HAW) ASP /Andre Motta

Today’s Dame of the Day is Mahina Maeda. Maeda’s been surfing since she was four, but when she was 16, she became the second woman in history to ride the fearsome 30-foot waves at Nazaré, Portugal. Her ride caught the attention of Billabong, who named it the Ride of the Year. At 17, she’s spent the past year as one of 17 women touring with the World Surf League’s Women’s Championship Tour.

Get in the Game: Congrats, Jen Welter

We at Lady Collective love celebrating female firsts: the first women in space, the first women to enter the military, women winning the Nobel Prize and countless other awards. While it’s frustrating that, in 2015, women are still cracking into formerly male-dominated spaces, every tiny victory serves as an example of possibilities for the next generation.jen1Image courtesy of Patch.com

Today we celebrate Arizona Cardinals coach Jen Welter, the first woman to coach a National Football League team. Welter played rugby at Boston College,competed in women’s football leagues for 14 years, and became the first woman to play a non-kicking position to play in the Indoor Football League. Somehow during that time, she also earned a master’s in sports psychology and a doctorate in psychology. Coach Welter may be 5’2”, but she’s got lofty dreams and high expectations for her players.

jen2

Image courtesy of AZ Central

But let’s be clear that the appointment comes with a caveat: on the Cardinals’ website, Welter’s official position is listed as “training camp/preseason intern coaching linebackers.” Depending on how her players fare, there’s no guarantee that she’ll hit the field come September. But while women coaches in male-dominated leagues are rare, there’s more support for future hires. Last month, San Antonio Spurs assistant coach Becky Hammon became the first woman to preside over an NBA bench. At any rate, we’ll be paying attention to Welter’s progress come kickoff time.

Dame of the Day: Anna May Wong

Anna May Wong

Today’s Dame of the Day is Anna May Wong (January 3, 1905-February 3, 1961). Born in Los Angeles’s Chinatown neighborhood, Wong began acting in silent films when she was 18. In two years time, she became an international sensation. Dissatisfied with Hollywood’s stereotypical casting practices, she spent half her time in Europe starring in major plays and films. In spite of the industry’s narrow typecasting and racist tactics, Wong became the first internationally known Asian-American actress.

Schoolin’ Life: Anna Raff

In today’s edition of Schoolin’ Life, we chat with New York-based illustrator Anna Raff.

A photo posted by Anna Raff (@annaraff) on

When you were in your 20s…

What expectations did you have for yourself over the coming decade?

I expected to reach a certain level of success in my career as a graphic designer. But what that benchmark was, I’m not really sure, and I didn’t consciously set goals. What I most cared about was doing creative work that I found interesting and challenging, and making enough money to support my travel addiction which I’d honed during and right after college.

In what ways did society shape your expectations of yourself?

Because of my family background, my friends, and the creative industry in which I worked, I was surrounded by a group of very open-minded people, who weren’t necessarily adhering to any one set of norms or expectations. Even if they were, they weren’t forcing it upon others who didn’t fit in—this was New York City, after all. Also, I never pictured myself as a parent, so perhaps that eliminated a big element of societal expectations for a young woman like myself.

What was your first job like?

My first job out of college was designing corporate brochures and presentations at an architectural firm in London. I had travelled there with some friends, after enrolling in a work exchange program which got us to get 6-month work permits in the U.K. Before leaving home, I had sent out a few résumés, but this architectural firm was the only place listed in the program guide that was remotely related to my main interest at the time, graphic design. My résumé had this logo I designed in school at the top—I still have a copy of it somewhere. The logo is okay, but the rest of it is crap! Based on that, and their random needs at the moment, I got the job. Ironically, here I was, an American kid, so happy to be working in London, on Oxford Street, surrounded by all this fantastic, historic, architecture, but working for a firm that designed the most hideous, god-awful, American-style shopping malls. Also, this was all before desktop publishing, and despite taking a few design classes in college, my knowledge of manual typesetting was minimal, so I mostly got by on my wits and earnestness. Kindly, they offered to do the paperwork to extend my visa, but I knew I was done. The nice thing was, the job paid pretty well, and enabled me to do a significant amount of traveling afterward to perpetuate my postponement of looking for a “real job” back home.

What was your first apartment like?

The flat my friends and I rented in London was basic, but more spacious than my first New York apartment. We even found 400 pounds in an empty drawer when we moved it—that was a good day. We knew it most likely belonged to the previous tenants, but the jerky landlord would just pocket the money if we told him, so we used it against our rent. My first place in New York City—where I moved shortly after returning to the U.S.—was a small, railroad apartment in the West Village that would have been fine for one person. The landlord had put a thin wall down the middle of the bedroom to create two rooms, so my roommate and I could basically fit a twin bed into each, and not much else. Being the West Village, it was super noisy, especially on weekends. I remember motorcyclists tearing up the street several times into the early morning, setting off car alarms as they went. That was pleasant. Oh, and that was the first place I saw a water bug fly. Gross.

Did you experience any big life changes?

In my mid-20’s, I moved into another apartment by myself, which was incredibly liberating and empowering. Also, my best friend came out to me. I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t figured it out, but it made everything make so much more sense. It really affirmed that he was (and still is) my best friend. This was during the AIDS crisis, and I remember the first thing I said to him was, “Be careful!” Then I think I told him how proud I was of him…at least, I hope I did. I’m still very proud of him.

In what ways did your friendships change?

Certain friendships that seemed very important in high school and college fell away, while others only got stronger. I came to terms with all that; it was okay for friends and friendships to evolve, and not always toward the same destinations. It’s better to let go, if it’s not working anymore.

What did you learn through your romantic relationships?

That I was completely naïve.

How did your relationships with your family change?

I’ve always been quite close to my family, so I think the only difference was that I was relating to them more as an adult.

How do you feel society viewed you?

As a geeky-looking, somewhat athletic, artistic, straight girl who didn’t really like girly things, some people probably put me into a box of some sort.

How do you feel you changed emotionally?

I started to learn about what was really important, but to be honest, I made much more progress with that in my 30’s.

How did you change intellectually?

By the end of my 20’s, I’d learned the complete suite of Adobe products…oh, and Pagemaker and Quark. That’s probably not what you meant.

In what ways do you feel your identity changed?

Through work, travel, and play my confidence got a boost. I played softball for my publishing company’s team, and that was great fun. I hadn’t played at all since junior high, and I’d always been quite good, but somehow in my teens, felt it was too “butch” —a very ignorant assessment, I might add. Once I joined this work team, I realized how much I missed playing, and how I identified myself as athletic, and that that was okay. It was also great fun to get up to bat against these teams, where the men would see a woman at the plate, and come closer into the infield. Then I’d proceed to whack the ball over their heads.

How did your worldview change over the course of the decade?

Travel really made clear the isolation many Americans experience, having never stepped into another country and out of their comfort zone.

What was the most embarrassing moment?

Drinking too much, and barfing into two plastic mugs while on the Trans-Siberian Railroad. The most amazing thing is that the guy, who is still my best friend, carried the two cups through a moving train to the nearest toilet to dispose of them. In the middle of Siberia! And he’s still talking to me 28 years later. Now that’s friendship.

What was your biggest disappointment and how did that affect you later?

I had a few disappointments at work, like not getting a promotion as I thought I should have, but I chalk that up to not asserting myself enough. These moments also spurred me on to seek out the next thing, the next challenge. And at some point, I realized I really didn’t want to supervise others at work, so I had to seek out positions that allowed that. By my early 30’s, I’d landed a job as a one-person design department at The Metropolitan Museum of Art, where I worked for ten years, until I returned to school to pursue a career as an illustrator.

Who was your biggest influence and why?

Oh, definitely my parents. They’re just really lovely, interesting people who always made (and make) me feel like I can do no wrong…within limits, of course.

Is there any one experience that you feel defined the decade? Or one historical moment that changed you?

When I landed a job doing design at a children’s book publisher. I had found the industry where I belonged, and it’s where I work now, albeit as an illustrator.

Do you have any regrets? Are there things you wish you’d done, hadn’t done, or done differently?

Perhaps I could have drawn more in my 20’s. At some point, I stopped making handmade cards, and other projects that involved illustration. It took me almost a decade and a half to figure out that I really should be doing that as a career. But perhaps I needed the time, I don’t know.

Is there a story that you feel best sums up the decade?

I think that one about barfing in Siberia is a pretty good one.