I often want to delete all of my social media profiles. In fact, I deleted my Snapchat months ago and it has been great. But I keep my Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter alive, and I do this because social media holds a lot of powers. One of them is giving everyone a voice.
Last week, my close friend Colleen and I were invited by NEDA to see the NYC premiere of Fattitude. This documentary film was created by Lindsey Averill and Viridiana Lieberman and it explores the discrimination fat people face—done by society, strangers, and even by loved ones.
I’ll never forget the day I arrived at a job interview with my hair dyed black with a subtle hint of blue. I didn’t think it would be an issue at a supposedly young and innovative media company, but my interviewer couldn’t see past my hair to my qualifications. Instead of listening to my responses to her questions, she looked at me like I flew into the interview from outer space and our conversation ended after only 15 minutes.
We spend more time than ever using media and everywhere we turn there are messages telling us how we should look that can make us feel less confident about our appearance. While we’re probably not going to use less media, we can protect our self-image and body confidence from media’s narrow body ideals that reinforce thinness for women and muscularity for men. It’s all about asking the right questions.
It’s National Media Literacy Week, and you might be thinking, “I’m a savvy Millennial who knows everything there is to know about the Internet.” At least that’s what I thought until I read this really awesome, easy-to-use, super weapon called the Get REAL! Digital Media Literacy Toolkit. Before reading the toolkit, I thought I knew everything I needed to know about the digital media culture because I grew up in it.
Last month, the Hemendinger family of Amity Harbor, NY successfully reached the summit of Mt. Kilimanjaro in Tanzania, Africa. Together, as a family, they completed the 10 day journey of the highest free standing mountain in the world at 19,341 feet. The 91 mile round trip journey consisted of daily hiking through five different climate zones of Kilimanjaro including a Rain Forest, an Alpine Desert, and the Arctic Summit.
Note: this piece uses identity-first language (autistic, disabled, etc.) based on the preferences of many of our community members.
When I started watching Atypical, I was hopeful. Finally, there was a show purportedly centered on Sam, an autistic teen. Sure, Sam is the white, intelligent, relatively affluent, and male autistic person we’re all used to seeing. I was prepared for that. What saddened me was the realization that Sam’s character embodies many autistic stereotypes and further stigmatizes autism.
Yesterday marked the final day of the Binge Eating Disorder Association (BEDA)’s National Conference in partnership with the National Eating Disorders Association (NEDA). Titled “Building Resilient Communities Through Collaboration,” the conference united survivors, caregivers, and treatment professionals for vital conversations about binge eating disorder (BED), body image and weight shaming, and marginalized communities.
The day I began treatment for my eating disorder was the August before the start of my sophomore year of high school. It was also the day my season of cross country track was scheduled to start. After my pediatrician was unable to sign off on the medical clearance forms, I was forced to go talk to my coach about how I wouldn’t be able to run with them this season. I was anxious when I walked into his office, expecting an angry response.
The Binge Eating Disorder Association (BEDA) in partnership with the National Eating Disorders Association (NEDA) kicked off its 2017 National Conference in New York City. Titled “Building Resilient Communities Through Collaboration,” the day united survivors, caregivers, and treatment professionals for vital conversations about binge eating disorder (BED), body image and weight shaming, and marginalized communities.