"In the beginning, woman was truly the sun. An authentic person. Now she is the moon ... dependent on another, reflecting another's brilliance,” Raicho Hiratsuka wrote in the first Japanese journal for women.
I have grown increasingly uncomfortable with men’s silence toward the #MeToo movement. At first, I thought the silence was because men wanted to actually listen to women’s stories of being sexually assaulted, harassed, demeaned, ignored, and taken for granted.
I knew going into this movie that it was going to be important. I knew walking in that I was going to see something unlike anything I had ever seen before. And yet, I was completely unprepared for immense power Black Panther would have over me. Within the first two minutes I was near tears.
As news of Harvey Weinstein’s sexual assault broke over this last month, I found myself locked in a discussion with my aunt. She, once again, was voicing concern about my decision to pursue a career in the film industry. She was worried—terrified actually—of what it means to be a woman in this industry; terrified of what I might experience as I try to find success.