Dear Netflix

TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDE, EATING DISORDERS

Dear Netflix,

Please stop making shows/ movies about mental illness willy-nilly. Coming from a girl with clinical depression and anxiety, your depictions never get it right. I’m a sucker for any entertainment, especially your notoriously binge-worthy shows, but your new affinity for “starting a conversation” and “bringing awareness” to such prominent issues is doing more harm than good.

Photo Credit: hollywoodreporter.com

First, let’s start with the insanely popular 13 Reasons Why, which follows the events that “led up” to junior Hannah Baker’s suicide. Back in May, when I watched the show, I felt disgust whenever it was brought up. I had watched it because I was so excited to see how a major platform, like Netflix, could start a trend of accurate representation of mental illness in the media. To my dismay, this show became another failure. I wrote a lot about this show in a previous blogpost, but I have a few things I forgot to mention. Besides being extremely triggering for those with suicidal ideations and/or depression, the show’s creators forgot to think about the very real consequences of putting out what they did. In the two weeks following the show’s release, searches relating to suicide, such as “how to commit suicide” or “how to kill yourself,” went up over 19%. To put it into different numbers, about 1.5 million more searches were made relating to suicide. Yes, these statistics aren’t exactly the show’s fault, but such a dramatic spike had to have some catalyst. Also, many teenagers and adults started performing “copycat” suicides or suicides that resembled that of Hannah Baker’s. For example, a 23 year old man committed suicide and left behind 13 audio recordings assigning blame to people he knew for their part in his suicide. You can’t possibly tell me that he didn’t have any persuasion from either the book or TV show. Since the show did not follow guidelines from the World Health Association, a very reputable expert of health in my opinion, on how to portray suicide in a healthy, non-triggering way, many people have faced grave fates on the creators’ behalves.

Moving on, Netflix most recently released a show, Atypical, about a senior in high school with autism. I, again, watched the entire season, very quickly I might add. Sam, the main character, navigates the new world of dating, which involves getting his first girlfriend. He and his girlfriend, Paige, have a sweet relationship, but it all ends when he admits his love for his therapist, Julia, in front of her entire family. Writer Matthew Rozsa writes about how grotesque this specific incident is, among the many others of show. “These aren’t classic signs of autism — they’re violent, creepy, cruel and make the autistic character seem like a monster. When the show then shifts gears to make us feel sorry for Sam, the characterization becomes more offensive. Arguing that those with neurological conditions shouldn’t be held accountable for hurting others is as patronizing as it is socially irresponsible,” he said. Sam even says that autistic people don’t lack empathy, which is very true even though many on the spectrum can’t physically or verbally express it, but some of his actions contradict that. The Olive Garden scene is an example of it, Sam, being as high functioning as he is, couldn’t realistically not see his wrongdoings, as shown by his overall awareness throughout other parts of the show.

Photo Credit: collider.com

The show also follows the lives of Sam’s family and how they have to accommodate him. This is one of the only things that is represented fairly and realistically, as an autism diagnosis doesn’t mean that loving, sarcastic, silly dynamics of family go away. However, this notion that autism is an issue that affects everything about a family’s dynamics is very harmful. Although I don’t have anyone in my family with autism or personally have autism myself, I know that living with this disability is tough. Not only is it hard to function in the world, the stigma that comes along with it is also extremely hard. That’s something this show forgets about. In trying to make an accurate representation of autism, the creators forget to get to the true depths of the disability. While writing this post, I had a long conversation with one of my friends about the show. While she doesn’t have autism herself, some of her family does. What the show misses is the fact that autism has a huge toll on the families it affects, but also the person. Actor Mickey Rowe tells of the gross misrepresentation of this notion. “Sam is a high school senior at a regular school, and he doesn’t use an assistant or paraeducator, so he’s largely independent. Yet his parents seem to hint that they haven’t been able to go on a date since he was born, implying that they’ve sacrificed their own lives to help him through his. What’s more, they talk about Sam as if they don’t have anything in common with him and at times appear to present their son’s autism as a tragedy,” he said. The show lacks the rough toll autism has on the individual, even though there are plenty of first-person accounts they could’ve included in it.

The show claims Sam is high-functioning, but his symptoms are all over the place. In a series of interviews with autistic viewers of Atypical done by The Mighty, Lamar Hardwick, who is on the spectrum himself, explains this perfectly. “There were parts of the episode where I felt some autistic traits Gilchrist [Sam’s actor] displayed were a bit too overstated. While the actor did a pretty good job overall, issues such as lack of eye contact and taking things literally started to feel like a caricature of autism. I’m not sure that an autistic person would always see themselves in that light,” he said. Although the show means well, it makes autism into an anecdote, focusing on common symptoms, to provide a goofy portrayal of Sam’s autism.

You’re left with a character who is kind of a jerk and has an overly-dramatic version of what autism really is. It’s even worse when you see how his family’s characters are much more developed and multi-faceted than his. Possibly the biggest fluke in this show is that none of the creators have autism or a family member with it. Instead, the screenwriter and executive producer, Robia Rashid, “had to do a lot of research.” Research doesn’t always lead to accurate findings, though. Sadly, this show missed the mark about how real autism really is.

Photo Credit: ew.com

Now, I may be coming off as extremely negative, but there is one show (well, movie actually) that I wanted to finish my letter with. That would be To The Bone. Again, this movie doesn’t get the eating disorder Anorexia Nervosa 100% correct. The main character, played by Lily Collins, is a young, privileged, white, and skinny girl who has divorced parents and extreme family issues. This movie had the opportunity to showcase a fat, unprivileged grown man or a person of color with the same disease to show that it doesn’t just affect those that look like Ellen, Lily Collin’s character. As far as eating disorders go, anorexia is very prominent in the media. There are so many movies and books talking about this disease. What I liked about this movie, especially compared to 13 Reasons Why and Atypical, is that the director and the main actress both have had anorexia. An article from Variety magazine describes Marti Noxon’s, the director, accurate portrayal of the disease as, “ [not an] especially pleasant movie to watch, but it is one that just might save a few lives.” What you get when you watch To The Bone isn’t some linear progression to recovery, but an extremely up-and-down diegesis that ultimately shows that recovery, something that is desperately needed when dealing with an eating disorder, is worth it in the end.

One thing I like to mention before I finish, can you tell me one thing these characters have in common? I hinted at it in the last paragraph. Still guessing? They’re all white! Not only is the media containing a complete lack of representation of mental illness, gender, sexuality, and people of color, but you never see a culmination between any of these themes. GLAAD does a very well-rounded data analysis of misrepresentation in media overall and I recommend you check it out. Netflix had a wonderful opportunity to create shows with directors and actors with these disabilites/diseases. They have all different kinds of actors willing to be a part of any media they create and while I applaud Netflix for their overall diversity, they still missed the mark when it came to these shows. The only people of color I remember in these shows are Ross Butler’s character in 13 Reasons Why and a fellow member in Ellen’s inpatient facility who happens to be black. The representation of these characters would’ve done way better in terms of conversation if they changed the way society traditionally sees these challenges. Make Hannah Baker a lesbian, Asian girl who has unforgiving parents. Make Sam black and underprivileged, not having the ability to hug his older sister. Make Ellen/ Eli an adopted, obese girl whose family couldn’t see her illness because they weren’t educated. Create new conversation by adding in REPRESENTATION. Youtuber Annie Elainey puts this into perspective perfectly.

I finish with a plead. While these movies and shows are indeed raising awareness, they have to deal with their subject matter delicately. Mental illnesses, eating disorders, and other disabilities affect too many people to be taken so lightly. What all these people need is a positive, accurate depiction of their lives. They don’t need uneducated producers and directors making stories that they can’t connect with. I love that Netflix is trying to help, but I suggest, like what To The Bone did, that the creators of these shows know what their subject matter is like. Research and conversations don’t even compare to those living with it. No amount of paper can match the grief of another hospital visit. In order to create something with truth, real experiences need to be showcased.

Exhausted

Image Credit: Celestialhairgallery.com

For the girls: a few questions.

Isn’t it exhausting? Exhausting to have a standard already set for what makes a woman beautiful? Everywhere you look, you see a beautiful girl with beautiful hair, skin, and eyes, a beautiful smile and a beautiful body, a girl who looks nothing like you. She doesn’t seem to look like anyone you’ve ever met before, either, except for the hundreds of other girls you see on billboards or magazines. Those girls all look alike.

Isn’t it exhausting that from the time you are born, you are programmed to think that the basis of your worth comes from the extent of your beauty? Why is so much of your importance based on your physical appearance, when really it shouldn’t matter at all?

How long have you felt the pressures of upholding the image of a “woman”? Since as long as you’ve been able to communicate, you are told what you should and should not do or say, how to act, and even how to sit properly.

Isn’t it exhausting to feel like you’re never good enough? Isn’t it exhausting to be chastised for speaking your mind or disagreeing with someone, to feel guilty for eating a big meal? Doesn’t it frustrate you to think that you might not be paid the same amount as the man sitting in the desk next to you and who signed the same contract as you?

Do you get angry? When you have too much contact with the opposite sex- you’re flirtatious and need attention, but when you don’t engage with men- you’re a prude.

Isn’t it exhausting to always be comparing yourself to, competing with, and feeling threatened by other strong and capable women? Girls shouldn’t have to feel this way about each other; girls should want to support each other. Do you ever try so hard to make everyone else appreciate you that you forget to appreciate yourself?

Why is it okay for your brother to tell a sexual joke, but God forbid a sister should make one, for then it becomes “disappointing” and “irresponsible.” Why in third grade PE do the boys have to do twenty push-ups, but the girls can only do ten “girl” push-ups? Why do boys use the phrase “like a girl” as a way to insult one another, why should boys be warned not to “throw like a girl”?

Isn’t it exhausting to always be made so aware of how you look? To feel self conscious about even your chipped nail polish because a boy commented on it, to feel uncomfortable walking past groups of men on the street for fear of hearing how pretty you look in that little dress.

Why are skinny girls the only ones allowed to wear certain clothes, the only ones you see in advertisements? Does it make you sad to think about how strongly society correlates being thin to being beautiful?

And why is it- no matter what- everything always comes back to your physical appearance?

Being a girl myself, I think I can sum up the answer to these questions, on behalf of all girls: Yes. It does make us sad, and angry, and frustrated. It is exhausting – and we’re tired of it.

Winter sunsets

Winter sunsets are always the brightest.
The days are shorter, the nights are darker.

It’s November,
and even though it’s cold enough to see your breath in the air
we still eat dinner in the backyard.

Photo Credit: Reddit.com User: finnishlad

It’s cold, but who needs a fire in the living room
when there’s already one in the sky?

The sky is burning,
plumes of smoke in pink, purple, orange.
Colors brighter than you knew existed.

They fade into view, like spilled ink slowly spreading across a page.
They stay to entertain the mountains, dancing among the clouds.
They decide it’s time to leave, sinking below the horizon.

Once spectacular, then gone.
But don’t worry; an encore tomorrow.

We watch the clouds burn for as long as they will.

Dad thanks Mother Nature.
Mom says it’s the moments like these when she knows God is real.
I think it’s the moments like these, the simple things,
that make it all okay for a while.

Freaks and Geeks

The TV show “Freaks and Geeks” is a true gem hidden behind TV’s biggest names like “Everybody Loves Raymond” and “Friends.” It only ran for one season, but still developed a cult following around the world.  In 2012, Entertainment Weekly listed Freaks and Geeks at #16 in the “25 Best Cult TV Shows from the Past 25 Years”. This show actually means a lot to me and has helped me understand myself more.

Photo Credit: IMDb

The show is set during the 1980-81 school year at the William Mckinley High School. Lindsay Weir, a previously proficient student called a star “mathlete”, one day decides to transform her life. She starts hanging out with the school’s “freaks” that are troubled rebels and slackers.  Lindsay, a goody-goody tries very hard to get approval from her new friends and gets into drinking and smoking. Lindsay’s new friendships create all sorts of problems for her, they cause friction between her and her parents, problems with self-image and love triangles. There’s a second storyline of Sam, Lindsay’s younger brother, and him trying to fit in during freshman year. Sam and his friends aka “nerds” are in a constant struggle for popularity and trying to fight off their bullies.

Freaks and Geeks really stuck with me because I was going through exactly what Lindsay was- an identity crisis. This was the first show aimed at teenagers that I could actually relate to. It wasn’t sugar coating high school, and it didn’t try to make characters “cool” and “relatable”, it showed raw and painful teenage problems. It helped me to realize that a lot of decisions I was making at the time were self-destructive. The show shows the mistakes almost every teenager makes with compassion and there’s a lesson to learn from each episode.

If you haven’t watched the show, I highly suggest finding some time to sit down and binge it. I guarantee that you will see yourself in one of the characters. Also, did I mention that James Franco is in it?

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0193676/

https://www.rottentomatoes.com/tv/freaks_and_geeks/

 

 

Late Night and politics

I feel like everything is about politics now. Suddenly, everything and everyone is political and very vocal about their beliefs. You can’t even turn on a Late Night Show without hearing something about Trump in the monologue. Are you still able to watch Late Night?

I used to be a huge Conan O’Brien fan, now I simply can’t watch him. I am usually able to separate the art from the artist, but it has become too hard to do that. I understand that all the hosts have a right to voice their opinion (most of which is from the left wing), but they weren’t given the platform of a Late Night show to cry out about current events. They were given this platform to create comedy, make people laugh and get their minds off all their problems. That should be their goal, as people need to laugh now more than ever.

 There are political Late Night shows designated to start the discussion on new bills and events happening daily. Personally, I don’t watch John Oliver, Trevor Noah or Bill Maher, and I absolutely cannot watch Samantha Bee. I understand that none of the above are Republicans, but all they do is talk about Republicans and how they are in the wrong. Their agenda is very clear and the propaganda is too obvious. Jon Stewart had a much broader view and gave wholesome commentary.

In my opinion, there needs to be more political diversity in Late Night shows (especially political shows), there has to be something center or right wing to balance out Late Night. Colbert’s Report was the closest thing, with Stephen Colbert’s satirical, conservative character.

I can’t wait for Late Night to go back to its roots and actually be funny again. Are Late Night shows getting too political or is it their hosts?

 

 

Photo Credit: ABC News

Late Night on CBS

Book smart

Photo Credit: excelsior.com

Growing up, I was never good at sports, or at least that’s what I thought. It’s not that I had a pronounced lack of capability, just that I never thought I should be able to take sports seriously.

In my family, one of the most prevalent themes is our insane dedication to sports. Having an uncle in the MLB, a dad who can play or coach practically anything, cousins who dedicate their entire young lives to a single sport, and brothers who have athletic superpowers, it’s a given that everyone puts tremendous pride on everything sport-related.

From soccer to basketball, football to baseball and everything in between, anything my brothers played seemed to come so naturally and effortlessly. They were practically carbon copies of my dad when he was their age. Being the youngest of three, I’ve had the thrilling experience of going to endless games, practices, and races – all displaying my siblings’ somewhat unfair skills.

So of course, as a toddler my parents enrolled me in AYSO and Little League, probably expecting to have produced yet another super-human athlete. Year after year, I humored my parents and played on whatever teams I was signed up for. But year after year, I was never interested. Maybe I might have been a little less coordinated than the average kid, but I’m pretty sure I just never wanted or tried to be good.

When I was old enough to be able to decide for myself, I avoided sports all together. Instead, I opted for a more intellectual path. In elementary school it started to become clear that I was sort of smart and sort of good at music, so that’s where everybody focused their attention.

For so long I’d heard the lighthearted remarks of “she’s just so book smart. Her street smarts, though, they’re a little lacking” or once when I unsuccessfully tried to serve a volleyball a friend joked that I “bring shame to my family’s legacy.” Whenever I attempted to learn something everyone laughed. So, eventually, I laughed about it too. I guess in a way that’s a good thing, because I learned the importance of being able to laugh at myself.

I never took sports seriously because no one ever took me seriously when I tried them. I’m not resentful of all of these years, I’m just disappointed that I’ve been labeled as “un-athletic” for my entire life when, for the majority of it, I’d never had the chance to figure out that I wasn’t.

For awhile I felt bad for my dad. I worried that I had somehow let him down not having a profound interest or ability in sports. In middle school I tried out for the soccer team. It was mostly because my friends were doing it, but part of me wanted to give myself a second chance.

Although the start was pretty rocky, eventually I realized that it was sort of fun. I wasn’t ever the best player on the team, but I also was definitely not the worst. I remember my dad telling me once after a winning game, “You’re getting to be a good soccer player, I’m impressed.” I remember being proud of my performance in that game, but also I was also proud that for the first time ever I had been recognized for my ability in a sport.

When I got into high school, I actually looked forward to the end of the day when I could leave everything behind for a few hours and just kick a ball around with my teammates. But it wasn’t until recently that I realized I have the potential to be really good at a sport. During the fall of my freshman year, I decided to join cross country. I really liked the experience, and I liked how I’d gotten in shape, but I was never exceedingly fast or impressive that season.

But this year, I worked a lot harder. I’d started running so much better than I had last season. At each progressive meet, I would cut a considerable amount off my time and at the league final, that work payed off. It was by far my best race ever, and everyone on our team beat their personal records.

This Saturday, we went to CIF preliminaries. I never thought I’d be able to say that.

Cross country has helped me realize that I’m stronger than I knew I could be, physically and mentally. I still have a long way to go, but now I have goals that I can look forward to. And I know with time and dedication I can reach them.

It maybe took me fifteen years to realize it, but after all this time I know that I’m not really all that uncoordinated or un-athletic. I just wish I wouldn’t have put myself in that box so early on. I wish wouldn’t have gone my whole life believing that I was only “book smart” and putting up with all of the “maybe you should just stick to singing” comments.

But I know now, and I’m glad.

A Barbie doll

A Barbie doll is perfect:

you can see it all over her.

She has lots of friends, it seems.

the list of names grows each day.

Image Credit: Amazon.com

With every new season

comes a new friend for Barbie,

and also a new Barbie.

The old ones are packed away

and forgotten.

There are so many to choose from,

who should we play with today?

Barbie dolls aren’t just for girls,

the boys love her too.

A Barbie doll is fake.

Be careful, Barbie,

If you stretch yourself too thin,

you’ll break.

Barbie does everything, it seems;

she tries so hard to not try.

 

She spends hours

making herself look effortless.

But Barbie isn’t special.

There are millions of other Barbie dolls,

they could buy her anywhere.

But she’s still Barbie,

so they don’t mind.

Barbie sparkles when she walks.

But when you get to know her, after a while,

she gets boring.

A Barbie doll shouldn’t talk,

so why does she talk so much?

Too much talk is bad.

Trends are temporary.

Yours has come,

when will it be gone?

I used to love Barbie

when I was younger and naive.

Not anymore.

A Barbie doll is plastic:

you can see right through her.

Closure.

For so long, I’d been hung up on you, I still cared.

I cared about what you would think of me, I wanted to know what you were up to. For so long, I was sad. I cried over you and over the parts of me that you came to know so well. You didn’t deserve to know me like that.

But I thought I knew you, too. It’s a strange feeling to have your perception of someone completely flipped in a matter of days, it makes your mind sort of dizzy.

And then I was sad about the friendship that was lost. We went from speaking every day for months to walking past each other without saying a word.

Then you messed up. And there was no one to blame but yourself and now I don’t see you at all.

At first I was confused about what happened, because the person I’d known would have never been so stupid. I thought that maybe you’d just changed since the time that I knew you, but now I realize that you didn’t change at all. I just didn’t know you in the first place.

So then you left again. And when you didn’t even try to reach out I thought maybe this time you’d be gone forever.

Photo Credit: WikiClipart.com

And just when I thought it was over, you showed up at my front door. You went on and on about how great your life has been and how happy you are and how much everyone will miss you. But you didn’t realize that by saying all of this it became so obvious just how embarrassed you are. You made yourself into more of a fool than you already were.

I started thinking about all of the things I wanted to say to you, all of the words I had planned out in my head for the past three months that could have put you in your place, but now I think you already know. Based on the fact that you spent so long trying to convince me that you’re better off, you only showed me that you were just trying to convince yourself. And I guess some things are better left unsaid.

Then you had to leave, so we said “goodbye” but I thought “good riddance.” You walked away and I didn’t start to cry like I had done before; I laughed.

I laughed for a long time and I smiled and I was happy because I knew that finally I was totally, completely done with you. Normally I would have told you that I hope you find happiness or good luck or some other thing you’re supposed to say when someone leaves, but I didn’t. It wouldn’t have been true. For the first time I can honestly say that I don’t care one bit about what you’re doing with your life and I don’t feel bad.

I did learn a lot from you, though. Thank you for helping me realize that I was right, that you don’t deserve to be in my life and you’re not worth all of the time I wasted. I’m not mad anymore.

Spare Change

I collect memories in my head like a child picks up change off the pavement.

A visual: Boy walks home on the sidewalk, making sure to hop over every crack in the pavement. He spots a penny, examines it between two pinched fingers and deems the coin a lucky charm, then stuffs it into a pocket for safekeeping.

Photo Credit: FiveCentNickel.com

Change, what a funny thing it is.

I often find myself reminiscing on the past. In some ways I guess that could be a good thing, looking back on old memories. Mostly though it just makes me sad.

Photos, journals, memories, they all hit you with this bittersweet nostalgia. Sometimes I wish I could go back in time, just to relive a particular day.

Over the past few years I’ve made connections with different people, some of whom I’ve come to genuinely care about and love. Sometimes I look at some of them and wonder if in ten years I’ll still remember their face, name, or the reason why I was friends with them. It sucks, but the fact is that for a lot of them I probably won’t.

Maybe I’m afraid of change. The more I think about the past the more it makes me dread the future. I wish it wouldn’t go by so fast. I don’t want more of my friends to graduate. I don’t want to get older. But they will; I will.

I can’t control time, no one can. So I guess all I can do is take it in while I can. The good, the bad, and everything in between.

A memory: Last night I was eating dinner with four friends. I hold an imaginary camera out in front of my face and pose, making fun of the boy sitting at the end of the table. “Hey,” he says, “you have to squint your eyes more if you want it to be accurate.” A hand smacks down on top of the table, legs kick out in front of chairs, a forefinger pushed against pursed lips reprimands us for the eruption of shrieks and giggles. We laugh so hard that our stomachs ache and tears spill out of our eyes.

I hope that I’ll remember that moment, even though it’s sort of insignificant in the grand scheme of things. But, hey, it’s the little things that count, right?

In that moment I realized that I have some wonderful, genuine people in my life, and I’m so lucky to be able to call them my best friends.

A piece of advice (for myself and whoever might be reading this): Keep picking up all the pennies you find, even if they don’t seem lucky. Everyone can use a little spare change.

Light and Dark

This will probably be the first and last post where I’m this free-spoken, but I know this will be therapeutic. I know we all have bad days, but what do you do when the closest people to you are just gone in a matter of seconds? What do you do when suddenly that someone becomes just a memory and you realize that you can’t make any new ones with them?

As I’ve found out for myself when everything is going great, suspiciously good, the universe has to balance it out. The Bob Ross quote, “Gotta have opposites dark and light, light and dark in painting. It’s like in life. Gotta have a little sadness once in a while so you know when the good times come. I’m waiting on a good time now,” me too Bob, me too.

In moments like this, you feel like an outsider to the world and you just want to get away, distract yourself somehow. But I’ve forced myself to accept and face the facts: time heals, but you need a lot of it.

Bob Ross quote

 

Photo Credit: https://i.ytimg.com