Nothing hurt worse than the sinking feeling in my chest when the security guard refused to answer any of my questions. It was the look of indifference in his eyes that said the most. It’s the type of look that looms over me in almost everything I do.
There’s always that one person (typically a man, but not always) who finds a reason to demean me based on my gender. The presence of these moments are always very different. I became most conscience of it the time that an adviser of an organization I was heavily involved in told me I needed to change my outfit because he said he couldn’t trust the boys around me. The look in his eyes read “you are a foolish girl who has no right making decisions for yourself”.
Since that moment, I’ve noticed this familiar look in everything I do from being told I can’t be a politician because I’m “too emotional” to being rejected by artist press managers who see me as merely a fangirl.
And that’s the part I want to sink my teeth into a little bit more in this post. Since Ali and I started our own blog @aliandalexblogs, we’ve been incredibly lucky and blessed to work with some amazing teams and artists. However, sometimes things get a little tricky. It’s no secret that Ali and I are, in fact, fangirls. I’ve talked before about how that shouldn’t be a bad thing. However, when you try to turn fangirling into a profession, it’s hard to be taken seriously.
From our observation, Ali and I have both noticed that many fangirls that do go into music and artist management or other parts of the industry tend to lose their perspective of fan. In an attempt to blend in, they cover that part of themselves up. So, our main goal with @aliandalexblogs is to never lose our perspective and to stay true to ourselves.
Unfortunately, part of that is a sense of not being taken seriously at any given time. For example, we had the opportunity to cover Sage Charmaine, opening for Hey Violet. We were guest listed for a venue we were both unfamiliar with. Upon arrival, I attempted to go ask the security guard how the guest list was working, where we could check in, and if Ali needed to pick up her photo pass from anywhere prior to entry (we couldn’t find a box office nearby). These are pretty rational questions for this sort of scenario. Except, before I could even get the first word off the tip of my tongue, he cut me off.
“Line starts there,” he spat the words out with a sense of irritability, pointing his finger down the line that snaked around the corner.
Politely, I tried again, in an attempt to explain that I understood that, but “I actually have a question. We’re working for a publica-”.
“Line starts there,” he repeated more aggressively, not even bothering to remove his headphones to listen to me. Why would he, after all? In his mind, I was just another fan for the show. There was no possibility to him that I could be there for any other reason.
There was a knot in my stomach all night. In many ways, this was the most blatant form of disrespect I had dealt with since I started working in the music industry when I was sixteen. I’m sure there are worse ways I’ve had to deal with sexism, but they were always more insidiously covert. In that moment, it was a blatant form of degradation and disrespect.
Quite frankly, though, I’m tired of not being taken seriously. While it doesn’t happen every single time I make a move, it happens frequently enough to be an issue. I’m lucky that I have support systems in my life who don’t let it hold me back, but I also think about all the women who are held back by moments like this.
Because who says a girl can’t be anything more than a fangirl in the music industry? When a woman breaks into the industry, why is she forced to lose her perspective and conform or minimize it?
In the same sense that others don’t take me seriously, though, I’ve realized that I don’t take myself seriously either. Every time an artist’s manager emails me back, I always turn to Ali and say “why are we allowed to do this?”
Part of growth is recognizing that sort of negative self-talk, which I’m making a pledge to do so starting now. Of course we’re allowed to interview an artist, we’re music journalists that's what we do. But there’s still this voice in the back of my mind that tells me I’m not good enough or legitimate enough.
What’s crazy is that I’ve had so many moments that say otherwise. When I was only sixteen, A Will Away gave me a chance to interview them and I killed the article. So many musicians and artists reach out looking for me to review their music, cover their show, or interview them, but each time I feel like it must be some mistake.
Sometimes success is hard to accept, but it's even harder to accept when we live in a world built to tell you that you shouldn’t be able to do what you’re passionate about. I want to be a storyteller and neither self or others doubt is going to stand in my way.
So, moving forward I'm going to start confronting those who don't take what I do seriously. This goes for people in my direct life and those outside. In fact, plenty of my friends don't invest any time into reading what I am writing and it shows. So many people who claim to be close to me don't bother with my music journalism because to them it's just another aspect of my fangirl life. This is a whole 'nother topic, though. We'll get there... I'm sure.
I am going to start calling out sexist artists, managements, and venues who discard women in the industry. They must be held accountable and stop creating a space that is only safe for men.
And I'm going to work harder to demolish the internal misogyny that I have carried with me for so long. I'm not just a "fangirl". I'm a bad-ass who is doing what I love. I'm writing, traveling, living, and loving.
Until next time,
Alex