Me: No. That's not interesting at all b/c my ideal audience is disabled writers & readers, so that's just like gross.
Editor asks me: Will you review That Pandemic Antho?
I say: Maybe. There are a lot of disabled writers in it, right?
Editor: ............
I say: Like, obviously?
Editor: ............
Me: No. That's not interesting at all b/c my ideal audience is disabled writers & readers, so that's just like gross.
Editor: Lemme send you the TOC.
Me: Okay.
Meanwhile, I'm impatient so I just look up the antho b/c it's Big and Famous and Everywhere.
How many total poets? Ok I stopped counting at 100.
How many disabled poets? Oh boy. Are you ready.
1 not radical at all disabled writer. Most acceptable disabled writer to nondisabled literary establishment b/c this writer "doesn't make a big deal about it," as I have been told
1 disabled writer who is only disabled in her books. Her books are like "yeah I'm totally dis." However--
More from Book
We had a conversation on the podcast about the racialization of dog breeds, where we talked to @BronwenDickey, the author of Pitbull: The Battle Over an American Icon.
In the 1930s, Pitbulls — which, as Bronwen pointed out to me over and over, don’t constitute a dog breed but a shape — used to be seen as the trusty sidekick of the proletariat, the Honda Civic of canines. (Think of “the Little Rascals” dog.)
.
That began changing in the postwar years and the rise of the suburbs. A pedigreed dog became a status symbol for the burgeoning white middle class. And pitbulls got left behind in the cities.
Aside: USians have flitted between different “dangerous” breeds and media-fueled panics around specific dogs. (anti-German xenophobia in the late 1800s fueled extermination programs of the spitz, a little German dog that newspapers said was vicious and spread disease.)
Some previously “dangerous” dogs get rebranded over the years — German shepherds, Dobermans, Rottweilers. But the thing their respective periods of contempt and concern had to do is that they were associated with some contemporarily undesirable group.
Michael Tesler in @FiveThirtyEight bringing some data to bear on my tweets about @ReverendWarnock\u2019s dog ad. A piece worth reading, and a reminder: It\u2019s never \u201cjust a dog,\u201d y\u2019all.https://t.co/ijQvTDOdvj pic.twitter.com/sp05Bhueob
— Hakeem Jefferson (@hakeemjefferson) December 15, 2020
In the 1930s, Pitbulls — which, as Bronwen pointed out to me over and over, don’t constitute a dog breed but a shape — used to be seen as the trusty sidekick of the proletariat, the Honda Civic of canines. (Think of “the Little Rascals” dog.)
.
That began changing in the postwar years and the rise of the suburbs. A pedigreed dog became a status symbol for the burgeoning white middle class. And pitbulls got left behind in the cities.
Aside: USians have flitted between different “dangerous” breeds and media-fueled panics around specific dogs. (anti-German xenophobia in the late 1800s fueled extermination programs of the spitz, a little German dog that newspapers said was vicious and spread disease.)
Some previously “dangerous” dogs get rebranded over the years — German shepherds, Dobermans, Rottweilers. But the thing their respective periods of contempt and concern had to do is that they were associated with some contemporarily undesirable group.
