Skip navigation

Tag Archives: geek

Well, shit.

Wait, let me try that again.

My first Readercon experience provided me with a wide berth of raw emotions, ranging from the elation that sprang from meeting and reconnecting with some of the most creative and progressive minds in the industry, to fiery rage at the bastion of New England Liberal Racism that still permeates the northeast, subsiding on the elitist fallacy that ‘smart people can’t be racist’.

How’s that? You want more, huh? I shouldn’t be surprised. I made a name for myself with my Twitter rants over that weekend on the much-needed progress needed at Readercon when my intention was to lay low and collect data all submarine-style and what not.

Read More »


[Content Note: Flashing Images]

And when I say that I don’t make great adult decisions, I mean that I don’t say no to enough things in order to protect myself from how exhausted I currently am. I started this blog entry at my writing group while I was also laughing at some serious schaudenflan when I was supposed to be presenting a positive, inclusive example for my writers. Talk about a failure to pack in my inner asshole. By the by, this is not something that you should say out loud when surrounded by Archer fans.

box Read More »

It’s not until you step onto that Big Con stage that you realize how little you truly know about anything, yet how much your simple presence will affect someone in your audience. After three years of attending C2E2 as an overeager fan ready to absorb the wit and wisdom bestowed upon us by the convention’s guests, 2015 marked the first year that I had been given the opportunity be the person on stage whom people came to hear. Despite having spoken at several conventions prior to this year’s C2E2, it still shocks the shit out of me that people not only want to hear what I have to say, but that they think that what I have to say is smart, insightful and/or inspiring. I suppose that this is the form which impostor syndrome has chosen to manifest itself in my head space; fighting the omnipresent indoctrination that everything about you is wrong and out of place in this cishet white male world seems to be an never-ending battle for many who are marginalized. I find myself fortunate that I head into that battle with amazing comrades and impeccable armor:

Read More »

Oh, I’m sorry. Am I being too harsh? Am I being too inconsiderate? I guess I am since you, the grand, glorious, mighty YOU said so and YOU have never been wrong about anything in your entire life.

Am I overreacting? Am I being irrational? Am I being just flat-out crazy? Well, I’m sorry. I guess that’s just what happens when my own thoughts, feelings, dreams or desires that do not fit YOUR plan are dismissed as mere inconvenience.

I hurt YOUR feelings, huh? I made YOU feel small, stupid, insignificant, unworthy, unwelcome? Welcome to the background radiation permeating my everyday existence.

Read More »

Eight years ago, I picked up this little gem from the Wheaton Public Library. I had been wallowing in the midst of a six-year hiatus from writing fiction due to school and self-degradation over my ability to craft sentences free of dry, academic rhetoric, and at some point between red cup parties in Allston and swag events in the Back Bay, it had been recommended that I read Virginia Woolf. Stemmed wholly in the ignorance of 20th century feminist struggles, I became and grew more aghast with each page as Ms. Woolf struggled to find a place where she could simply enjoy doing what she loved most. Determined to enjoy the freedom given to me by the 21st century, I picked up my pen once more and began to produce prose. What I did not produce until recently was a clear and concise understanding of how much my gender and my race would be so intrinsically linked with everything that I loved, specifically those things within the Land of Geekdom. Read More »


TRIGGER WARNINGS INCLUDE: Mentions of Extreme Gender/Sexual Ignorance and Sexual Assault


Usually when nature calls, I’ll answer it briefly, then switch over to civilization. This time, it’s different. I’ll be off the grid for roughly 4 days, no computer, no WiFi, no cell, no electricity. Let’s party like it’s 1799!

In all seriousness, the people with whom I will be camping are pretty awesome. While I’m at this event, I’m going to be participating in a roundtable discussion on the “Fake Geek Girl” phenomenon with two amazing women. I’ve just lost a debate with one of these lovely ladies on which is the campier movie, Conan The Barbarian or Beastmaster 2: Through The Portal Of Time. The debate began four years ago.

Yeeaaah, serves me right. Anywho, check out her blog. Loads of geekiness for all, it is!

Until next week, civilization! 

I went to go visit my aunt one day before she went into the hospital for her first round of chemo, and we sat there watching The Big Bang Theory. My aunt, an upright, God-fearing woman, staunchly proud of her southern roots, confessed to me that she had never shown an interest in BBT because it was a show about nerds.

I inferred her statement to mean that, until recently, nerd/geek culture had not found a place in my aunt’s world for whatever reason, so, instead of going off on my usual tirade about the latent racism, sexism, homophobia, and geek-ism that runs rampant in BBT (rest assure, I will go on about it in this blog ad nauseum), I let my aunt in on a little part of myself that I had only shared with the male members of my family. It was at that moment when I realized that I had inadvertently been contributing to a social stigma that’s been haunting black women for over 100 years.

I was ashamed to admit that I am a black nerd girl.

I picked and chose to whom I “came out of the nerd closet”, most of these ceremonial outings were attended by Caucasian or Asian heterosexual men because those are the demographics that make up all of Nerdom, right?

Wrong. Wrong. OH SO MANY WRONGS!

Why, you ask? Why did I hide such an integral part of who I was from those for whom I care? Because, deep down, I was [and still am] struggling with society’s concept that black women are supposed to think, act, and talk a certain way. Black women are supposed to like certain things. Black women are supposed to believe in God. Black women are supposed to have certain priorities. Black women are suppose to obey their older family members without question. Black women are suppose to marry black men. Black women are supposed to have black babies. Black women are supposed to be loud, abrasive, direct, aggressive, strong, endearing, maternal, uncompromising, and invulnerable. According to society, black women are supposed to exist within this narrow box because the rest of the world can’t comprehend anything else, and we don’t want to take the time to understand ourselves outside of the color of our skin, or outside the “confines” of our gender, our culture, our socioeconomic status. We don’t want to, or are deathly afraid of, stepping outside of the Box.

Well, Ladies and Gentlemen of both cis and trans natures, I can’t stay in the Box anymore. I can’t be what my mother, my father, my aunts, my uncles, my brother, my cousins, Steve Harvey, Tyler Perry, Oprah Winfrey want me to be anymore. 

I want to be able to bitch slap Chuck Lorre in the face and say, “Hey, you narrow-minded shit, the Higgs-Boson was not definitely discovered; six years of Penny’s inferiority complex isn’t funny; social anxiety disorder is NOT something to be taken lightly; and by the way, I DO exist!”

I want to be able to go to a heavy metal concert and not be tagged as self-hating or self-denying.

I want to be able to go to a Con as Thor if I feel so inclined and not have my life threatened.

So, now is when I begin to do so.

Yes, I am a nerd. Yes, I am a feminist. Yes, I am a Skeptic, an Atheist, and a minister of the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster. Yes, I am a writer, a lover, a novice spinner, a martial artist, a runner, a swimmer, a hiker. And yes, I would rather see Within Temptation and Nightwish than Jay-Z and Justin Timberlake.

And yes, I am black.

So this is me, stepping outside of the Box. Come join me, if you can. Image