I understand why #TimesUp initially forgot about Disabled people, I do. We are not there. We are not visible on the carpet, in movies, in the workplace. Our bodies are not sexualized, or understood as rapeable, and even those closest to us do not understand our pay.
Carolynne watches EJ play in the window while Rich is gone on a business trip. Carolynne says she worries about taking EJ outside alone because she no longer has the energy to keep up with him.
Although I could convey a moment and capture peak action and even humor in my pictures, I didn’t know how to wade into situations of emotional intimacy. After discussing the problem with Dan Habib, the paper’s photo editor, I knew I had to try something different. I had heard about approaching an assignment as a fly on the wall, and this appealed to the introvert in me, but I made a conscious decision to break out of that mold. For my next long-form project, I resolved to invest in a close relationship with my subject. Once I had tried it, I decided, I would assess the outcome and move forward.
The pussyhat is part of a larger contemporary phenomenon known as Craftivism, which actively challenges the longstanding disparagement of women’s traditional art forms and has itself become a vehicle for feminist opposition. Craftivists run the gamut from hobbyist cross-stitchers urging us to “smash the patriarchy” to professional artists devoting painstaking hours to gallery exhibits. The Craftivist movement inherits a long tradition stretching back to the earliest history and literature of the West: Greco-Roman writers showed again and again how feminine art forms, particularly spinning and weaving, both segregated and subordinated women while also offering them an avenue for resistance.