An Open Letter to Sheraton Cadwell Orchestras Management

(Update: their website is gone and some board members resigned. It appears the agency has devolved)

An Open Letter to Sheraton Cadwell Orchestras Management, 

I recently read an article citing your email requiring your singers to fit a certain BMI standard. My name is Kira McCarthy and I am an advocate for Eating Disorder Awareness and Body Politics. I have spent the last few years of my life putting myself into the public spotlight to bring awareness to my main message, which is: Your Body. Your Business. 

I grew up surrounded by messages that said being thin and able-bodied equaled success. Thinness was equated with self-control, self-discipline, desirability, and praise. 

We live in a world where mainstream assumptions and stereotypes tell us that  “othered bodies” are incapable, ugly, unhealthy, and ultimately, unlovable. 

The truth is, your body is your own and no one else’s. Your body is worthy and deserves love, period. 

In your email to your staff you wrote: 

“Although almost all of our vocalists are fit and slim – the way our boutique orchestra would like our front line performing artists to be … two of our featured singers were not. We hope that they would, as such, refrain from using tight-fitting dresses and use loose (less physically-revealing, less physically-accentuating) dresses instead.”

You specifically called out 2 singers and told your company that they were fat. You shamed them. Worse, you shamed them publicly. You shamed their bodies and the way they choose to dress those bodies. 

You also wrote:

"As per our highly selective casting requirements for vocal artists taking on a prominent leading role on stage, only singers who are physically fit and slim (or at the very least, those who know how to dress strategically/suitably in order to not bring attention to their temporary physical/dietary indulgences) would be showcased with our boutique orchestras.”

That entire paragraph is offensive, elitist, discriminatory, and makes multiple assumptions about bodies. Specifically, having already stated that 2 of your singers are what you consider to be overweight, you go on to blame their size on "dietary indulgences", suggesting that if they did not "indulge" in foods that you do not approve of, their bodies would magically meet with your approval. 

There have been many studies to counteract the term "obesity epidemic". These studies show that there is often no correlation between weight and health. (And even when there is, that is still no one else's business). 

I teach elementary school and it saddens me to the core that yet another generation of children is growing up to believe that your body determines your worth. I envision a world where all people are valued for who they are, and what they contribute, not by what they look like. I teach my students to challenge social constructions of “proper” and “worthy” bodies in a world that so often demonizes, pathologizes, and “others” those who aren’t thin, white, and able-bodied. 

If my grade seven students can be inclusive of all bodies, then so can you. 

Kira McCarthy

Dwelling

You won't always like what you hear. And you can choose to respond, to ignore, to rage, to cry ... and only you get to decide how long to dwell on it.

Hugs

Sometimes a hug says all the things you can't find the words for. 

Be kind

To yourself too

Mirror

What do you see when you look in the mirror? Can you see your joy, love, talent, kindness, and the contributions you make in this world? 

The Day I Went Invisible

When my dog woke me up, growling and impatient to go out, I was sleepy and lazy. I grabbed the first clothing I could reach. I put on "boy" clothes: a pair of baggy cargo shorts, and a long, loose T-Shirt. 

Due to my many nervous-system-related fibromyalgia symptoms, most clothing hurts me. It hurts the skin on my upper arms and lower thighs. Though there is no tension, anything touching my shoulders feels like it's pulling on my muscles and digging into me. Because of that, I have only worn short sundresses with spaghetti straps since about mid-May. 

This morning, I put on the "boy clothes" and my baseball cap, because I didn't have time for a shower - according to the insistent growling - and took the dog for a walk. 

We walked the same route, passed the same construction site, passed the same workers, just like every day. We passed strangers who couldn't help but smile at how happy the dog looks, just like every day. 

Only this time it was different. 

I was invisible. 

Everyday, I walk towards the local school and pass neighbours who smile at me and say hello to me and to the dog. Today, despite my smile, they walked right by me like I wasn't there. I didn't really give it a thought at the time. I was still groggy and not up for small talk anyway. 

As several strangers passed us on the street, I started to notice a trend. As usual, the infectious apparent joy of my dog caused strangers to smile when they saw her. Many times strangers will say "what a happy dog!" or "such a nice dog!" 

Today, the dog got smiles. 

I got nothing. 

About 4 people walked by, smiled at the dog, but made no eye contact with me. One guy smiled so big he was beaming, but averted his eyes when his caught mine. 

I started to notice my invisibility. 

It was when I walked through the construction site that my virtual non-existence became apparent. I walk through there several times a day. And even though the workers must recognize me by now, they always look me up and down, stopping briefly at my breasts, then making eye contact and smiling. Sometimes they say hello, but usually it's just the up and down appraisal followed by a smile, or a nod.

Today? 

Nothing. 

I walked through and watched them glance and me and turn back to what they were doing. 

Today I didn't exist. 

I've never felt comfortable with the once-over appraisal. I don't enjoy it. I find it objectifying, sexualizing, and rude. And, it's been my life since I developed breasts at age 10. It's part of my daily existence and something that I hardly think about anymore. 

It is something that just IS. 

I am a cis woman with large breasts and I get noticed, and appraised, daily. The appraisal ends with a smile or a nod, and I'm on my way. I am under the belief that rest of my body does not meet societal standards of beauty, or sexuality. So I get a free-pass to not get "hit on", or "cat called". Obversely, numerous times I have been fat shamed or called derogatory names having to do with weight. 

Both outcomes are uncomfortable. 

Both outcomes make me self-conscious of my body. 

At times it feels like I am naked. The gaze of others and the feeling of judgement can make me want to go home and hide. Or wear a parka. Winter can be a much safer season for body-conscious people. There are so many layers to hide under. 

For me, in all seasons, getting dressed in the morning can be torturous. What can I wear that is comfortable on my skin, that won't make my nerves go haywire, that isn't too tight, that doesn't have too much cleavage, that is socially acceptable while meeting all the criteria of not causing me self-conscious discomfort, or the sensation of physical pain? 

My solution? 

Hooks of sundresses, organized by levels of comfort. A quick internal scan of my body, after stretching and moving around, determines a level 1, 2, or 3 dress. 

The fact that my dresses are pretty is an added bonus to finding something that is only mildly painful to wear. 

On this morning's walk, my lack of femininity in my clothing made me invisible. The dresses, the shorts, and the T-shirt happen to be from the same store. One outfit relegates me to potential sexual object, and the other to near invisibility. 

Maybe Shakespeare was right when he said "apparel oft proclaims the man." Apparently, my clothing defines the worth of my level of objectification.  

It makes me wonder if my eyes unconsciously do the up and down appraisal of others. Do I stop and stare at certain body parts, making the person uncomfortable? Do I avert my eyes and make people feel invisible? 

Growing up in a large city has made eye contact and smiles unusual. I have always made a conscious effort to make eye contact with everyone I pass on the street. It's my way of trying to illicit feelings of belonging. Being seen, in a non-objectifying way, offers a sense of community. 

It was a strange feeling to be invisible. It's something I have strived for. And now that I have experienced it, it felt like a sort of rejection. I felt disconnected and like I didn't belong. 

It certainly made me think about how my eyes and facial expressions can affect others. 

Be kind,

To yourself too

xoxo

Orlando, Gaydar, Community, and Belonging

It has taken me a year to write this. It feels important to me. Some pieces of it have been posted on my blog already. I have edited this down to as short as I feel comfortable with. I just can't make it any shorter. I hope that you will find a time when you can read it all, or take the time to read it in short sections as you're able. 

This started out being about the massacre at the Pulse nightclub in Orlando, on June 12, 2016. And it has turned into so much more. It has caused a great deal of emotion and change in me. 

I wanted to be able to explain to heterosexual people why this mass murder caused gut-wrenching pain in our community. I want to explain why LGBTQ people feel a sense of global community, despite our many differences and the fact that we don't even know each other and will likely never meet. 

They are still our people. My people. 

I want to explain why this hate crime felt different to me than hate crimes based on faith, race, culture, and non-queer marginalized groups. 

Last year, I spent several days processing what happened and why it made me so sick to my stomach. Why it made me cry myself to sleep. 

In the past, I have written about the attacks in Paris. I wrote about other global atrocities. No atrocity is worse than another. You can't rank them in order of importance, or affect, or meaning. 

Hatred and violence always make me both sad and angry. You can't compare one atrocity to another. They all hold their own pain. They all affect multiple lives. 

They all hurt. 

Orlando hit me differently. One year ago, my global community was punched in the stomach and was sent into waves of fear, panic, pride, strength, connection, sadness, anger, devastation, and heart aching pain. 

It isn't easy to explain the connectedness that many LGBTQ people feel towards each other. To understand this feeling of global connection, I need to first define the concept of "community". 

Community, according to the Collins English Dictionary, is "a group of people, having cultural, religious, ethnic or other characteristics in common". 

Community, however, can be thought of in many different ways. 

The "Queer Community" is a sometimes contested term that can be used in a global context linking all queer people whose common experiences, or even fear of experiences, connect them. 

Barrett-Lennard defined community by: physical proximity, socialization, regulations, common language, self-sufficiency, interdependence, and belonging. 

I assert that my definition of queer community does not necessitate physical proximity. 

"Gaydar" is one aspect of the global queer community. It is a recognition, or assumption, that someone else is queer because of their words, actions, appearance, or other characteristics. This recognition is often accompanied by a feeling of community because of the feeling of not being "the only one." 

I have heard people talk about that feeling based on their culture, faith, or heritage. The recognition of a common ancestral experience, and/or the current climate towards their group of people. 

I don't believe that it is the same with LGBTQ people. "Gaydar" is a sometimes life-saving experience. Seeing another queer person removes feelings of isolation. It means knowing you aren't alone, even if you and the person you see don't speak and never see each other again. One friend calls in "the butch nod". 

I interviewed some queer folk on this sense of community. The question was: 

When you see someone and you recognize they are queer, and they recognize it in you ... what's that like for you?

"Short answer - Yes, a lot of the time, it does feel like some kind of gaydar for trans folk. And it feels amazing. I feel drawn to them, and almost immediately comfortable. I seek them out and reveal things about myself that they might also experience - put out feelers, sort of. Vague things so that it doesn't turn out weird if the person is cis or not out." - Lee

"There is an instant sense of kinship and safety. While I know our lives may be totally different and we aren't necessarily similar simply due to our queerness, I can't help but smile. We share something; a sister/brotherhood of sorts. I cannot explain the feeling I get at Pride for example - I'm overcome with love and groundedness. That said, when I see another queer person I can't help but feel slightly saddened as I know queerness often comes hand in hand with pain and alienation. I guess I just want to say, I'm here, I'm queer, and I support you. I see you and I support you." - Emily 

"Hm. If they're cute, I check them out. Lol

But usually it depends on the context. If it's somewhere where it's not a surprise, usually downtown or whatever, I barely have any reaction at all. But if I'm out in Scarborough visiting my mom, say, there's a moment of "I see you, and I know you see me too." Also, "what the heck are you doing here?!" - AC

"Like a knowing comfort that we have something in common and when you are struggling with who you are, it gave the feeling of not being alone.  It's also kind of fun like belonging to a secret club that others don't quite get." - Michael 

"It makes me feel at home and I automatically feel a sense of community and acceptance - especially since I get mistaken for hetero a lot which can make me feel invisible sometimes, it makes me feel seen and almost legitimizes my personhood if that makes any sense." - KO

"It's like being in a secret society with someone. like recognizing 'there goes my people' (like if they walk past you or something like that)." - JG

We often live complacently in our little city of Toronto. Go a couple of hours outside of the city, and look for rainbow flags, same sex couples holding hands, trans folks in positions of authority and privilege, or non-binary folks who don't have to reassert their pronouns daily. Go a little further, and you can see the homelessness of LGBTQ youth who have no where else to go. 

The first national climate survey on homophobia, biphobia, and transphobia in Canadian schools found: 

Physical Harassment

• More than one in five (21%) LGBTQ students reported being physically harassed or assaulted due to their sexual orientation. 20% of LGBTQ students and almost 10% of non-LGBTQ students reported being physically harassed or assaulted about their perceived sexual orientation or gender identity.
• 37% of trans students, 21% of sexual minority students, and 10% of non-LGBTQ students reported being physically harassed or assaulted because of their gender expression.
• Over a quarter (27%) of youth with LGBTQ parents reported being physically harassed about the sexual orientation of their parents. They are also more likely than their peers to be physically harassed or assaulted in connection with their own gender expression (30% versus 13% of other students), perceived sexual orientation or gender identity (27% versus 12%), gender (25% versus 10%), and sexual orientation (25% versus 11%).

Sexual Harassment

Levels of sexual harassment are high across the board for LGBTQ students. The following groups of students reported having experienced sexual harassment in school in the last year:

• 49% of trans students
• 45% of students with LGBTQ parents
• 43% of female bisexual students
• 42% of male bisexual students
• 40% of gay male students
• 33% of lesbian students

The higher levels of sexual harassment for gay male than for lesbian students may be attributable to greater exposure to sexual humiliation as a distinct form of unwanted sexual attention. Also, lesbian students may be less likely than gay male or trans students to perceive their experiences of harassment as sexual. Further analysis will explore the experiences included in this finding.

Having a sense of belonging gives hope to people who are struggling to be safe. 

According to Robert Park (1936) a community is made up of a group of people who are deeply invested in the physical space they occupy. A physical space was posited as a central defining characteristic of community. But what if you DO NOT live in a city like Toronto that has a "Gay Village"? What if you live outside of a city with a visible queer space, where your existence becomes even more isolated and invisible? 

I am arguing that the queer community does not exist because of a shared physical space. Instead, I define it as "those in the know": meaning a group of people with a subculture consisting of codes of behaviour, dress, icons, and language. (Note that many queer people do not adhere to queer stereotypes or icons and may not relate. Despite that, I bet every queer in North America knows who Ellen is ... I don't even have to say her last name ...). 

Despite the fact that queer people do not always have an automatic affinity for each other simply by virtue of their queerness, I argue that the sense of community is of utmost importance for queer folk. 

We may not always like each other, but that doesn't mean we aren't a community ... that doesn't mean we don't experience feelings of connection, of belonging, of being allowed to exist. 

Gill Valentine is my favourite researcher. She wrote that lesbians create communities "through collective imaginings and sometimes fantasies focused upon social networks". This was written before the development of social media which, in my opinion, opened up a whole new meaning of community. Valentine explained that it wasn't a physical space that created the community, it was an assertion of identity that created the FEELING of community. 

The creation of a community among queer people in geographical proximity can be created by what Valentine called "the dropping of pins". Meaning, disclosure of one's sexuality can have negative and sometimes violent consequences. So dropping hints like places or icons that other queers might pick up on is a way to safely discover each other. Like me saying that I like the Indigo Girls, or that I saw Melissa Etheridge play once, or that I go to the community centre on Church Street. 

Gill Valentine stated that oppression of sexual identities is oppressed in different places which restricts the development of particular spaces. There is a shared experience of queer people having to negotiate their sexuality in a variety of places and spaces. This shared experience creates a sense of connectedness. 

When my partner and I traveled to Hungary, Austria, and Germany, we did not feel safe to hold hands or show any affection in public. I felt that same way in the airport in Colorado. 

Barret-lennard suggested that a shared bond unites a community in certain circumstances such as an emergency. The hashtag "OrlandoUnited" was used globally this week, to recognize how strong our community can be, despite attempts to silence us, or to exterminate us. 

He also suggested that communities have a particular lexicon. This language often has an idiom distinctive to the community. This assists in the recognition of communal affiliation and contributes to a community or group feeling. He also wrote that "a sense of community includes a felt experience of belonging, connection, shared meanings or identity, of being in relation with fellow members." 

Abstractly, queer communities offer a sense of belonging based in shared meanings of identity. 

Despite the acceptance in some parts of the world, a common aspect of the queer experience is the feeling of fear. 

When a man went into a queer night club in Orlando, and killed 49 people, and wounded 58 people, the feelings of fear and terror swept through queer communities. What if it happened here? What if someone I knew was there? What if it had been me? Or someone I love? What will happen to all those families, loved ones, friends, neighbours ... who will reach out to them? Who will take care of them? What do we DO with our anger, our sorrow, our fear? 

Hate and hate crimes against LGBTQ people is not isolated to particular countries. It is a Canadian problem. 

Hate crimes against LGBTQ folks, reported to the police, are more likely to be violent than hate crimes targeting other groups. 44% of hate crimes against LGBTQ people involve assault, versus 16% of reported hate crimes against visible minorities. 

Being Gay remains illegal in many countries around the world. At the bottom of this piece I have listed these countries and their penalties which range from jail time, to whipping, to stoning, to the death penalty. 

In July 2016, I had the incredible opportunity to see the Orlando Gay Chorus in person, with about 3000 other queers and a few thousand more standing outside the theatre. 

Being less than a month after the massacre, the thousands of queers gathered together for the international LGBTQ choral music festival, had a strong affinity and deep connection to this choir - to the people standing on stage that we didn't know. They were our people. They are our people. 

They are us. 

The choir couldn't simply stand on stage and sing. The director spoke about the devastation, the fear, and the strength. He invited the audience to sing "You'll Never Walk Alone." I have included a video of his speech and the performance. 

The video could never do justice to the palatable grief, strength, and connection that this moment evoked. I stood at the front of the balcony, with one arm around my partner's waist, and the other holding the hand of a stranger. Together, thousands of queers in the theatre, in the lobby, and gathered outside, sang together, cried together, grieved together. 

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=U1urPSxm7Gc

As Pride month is coming to an end and Pride weekend approaches, I can't help but think about what it means to me. I attended my first Pride parade when I was 13. At that time it was weird. At 17 it was like coming home. At 24 it was all about love and a new relationship. At 30, it was boring and commercialized. At 35, I was so over it. At 38, I began to speak out about how Pride started as a riot, followed by protests. And now, at 40, I want to be there. To be visible. To be part of the community. To take up visible space in the city. To say, we are here and have every right to exist. To say that the torture and murder of LGBTQ people in any country is unacceptable. 

Be kind

To yourself too

xoxo 

The following 54 countries have laws that make homosexuality illegal (this list excludes countries that have laws against homosexual acts, but do not enforce the them. And, I gathered this list in June 2016): 

Belize: 10 years imprisonment  

Algeria: fine and 2 years imprisonment

Antigua and Barbuda: 15 years imprisonment  

Grenada: 10 years imprisonment  

Saint Kitts and Nevis: 10 years imprisonment  

Saint Vincent and the Grenadines: 10 years imprisonment  

Turkmenistan: 10 years imprisonment  

Uzbekistan: 3 years imprisonment  

Iran: For men 74 lashes for immature men and death penalty for mature men of sound mind and is consenting. For women 50 lashes for women of mature sound mind and is consenting. Death penalty offense after fourth conviction

Kuwait: 6 years imprisonment 

Qatar: death penalty

Saudi Arabia: Prison sentences of several months to life, fines and/or whipping/flogging, castration, torture or death can be sentenced on first conviction. A second conviction merits execution.

United Arab Emirates: 14 years imprisonment

Yemen: Unmarried men punished

with 100 lashes of the whip or a maximum of one year of imprisonment, married men with death by stoning. Women punished up to three years of imprisonment; where the offense has been committed under duress, the punishment is up to seven years detention.

Afghanistan: long imprisonment (death penalty when under Taliban rule)

Bangladesh: 10 years to life imprisonment

India: 10 years imprisonment (sporadically enforced)

Maldives: For men the punishment is banishment for nine months to one year or a whipping of 10 to 30 strokes. For women is house arrest for nine months to one year.

Egypt: 17 years imprisonment with or without hard labour

Libya: death penalty

Pakistan: life imprisonment

Burma: life imprisonment

Malaysia: 2-20 years imprisonment or whippings

Gaza: 10 years imprisonment

Solomon Islands: 10 years imprisonment

Kiribati: 14 years imprisonment

Tuvalu: 14 years imprisonment

Morocco: 3 years imprisonment  

South Sudan: 10 years imprisonment  

Sudan: death penalty on 3rd offence for men and 4th offence for women 

Tunisia: 3 years imprisonment  

Gambia: life imprisonment  

Ghana: 10 years imprisonment  

Guinea: 3 years imprisonment  

Liberia: 1 year imprisonment  

Mauritania: death penalty

Nigeria: illegal, some states death penalty for men and imprisonment and/or whipping for women

Senegal: 1-5 years imprisonment 

Togo: fine and 3 years imprisonment  

Cameroon: 5 years imprisonment  

Burundi: 2 years imprisonment  

Kenya: 14 years imprisonment  

Uganda: 14 years imprisonment  for men and 7 years imprisonment  for women

Tanzania: life imprisonment  

Eritrea: 3 years imprisonment  

Ethiopia: minimum 10 years imprisonment  

Somalia: death penalty

Comoros: 5 years imprisonment  

Zambia: 14 years imprisonment  

Sahrawi: 3 years imprisonment  

Somaliand: death penalty

"I'M THE SHIT!"

We all have those times when we feel like frauds. Where embarrassment or nervousness turns to shame. 

Embarrassment: "I did something bad."

Shame: "I am bad."

How do we get through those moments of feeling like a fraud? 

We tell ourselves we are amazing. We play the role until we ARE the role. 

We say to ourselves: 

"I am awesome!"

"I am talented!"

"I can rock this!"

Or my new favourite: 

"I'm the shit!" (C.L.)

Instead of letting the shame overtake you, tell yourself, I've got this. And do it. 

Be kind,

To yourself too

xoxo

...

Reaching out

Reaching out is not only okay, it is necessary.

No one can do it alone. 

So stop trying. 

Be kind,

To yourself too 

xoxo

...

Missing Pieces

MAY MAYBE

Maybe we can't put all the pieces of us back together. 

Maybe our job is to take the pieces that we have and teach them how to work together. 

Be kind, 

To yourself to

xoxo

...

*All images are property of Fox Tales Art

**All images are available for sale with profits going to www.sheenasplace.org 

Email foxtaleskira@gmail.com for inquiries (Purchasing directly by email, even if the piece is on etsy, saves both of us money and can involve a negotiation in size and in price)

Or browse some options at 

www.etsy.com/ca/shop/FoxTalesByKira

 #bopo #bodypositive #mindfulness #selfcare #selfcompassion #notachoice #FoxTalesArtAprilOfAcceptance #acceptance #accepting,   #edawareness #edadvocate #ed #eatingdisorder #edrecovery #recovery #bopo #art #artist #torontoart #torontoartist #FoxTalesArt #sheenasplace #sheenasplacefundraising #lovingyourself