Cosplay talynnkel / TaLynn Kel - fat, Black, femme writer, cosplayer, and Intersectional Womanist for the establishment

[Nutty Wizard]

website: http://talynnkel.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TaLynnKel/ (http://archive.md/dY9lZ)
Twitter: https://twitter.com/TaLynnKel (http://archive.md/iTJk6)
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/talynnkel/



Recently, a writer for the establishment caught my eye for making this article:
https://theestablishment.co/your-fandom-is-racist-and-so-are-you-638c5200b15b (http://archive.md/Knxbx)

wo weeks before my annual cosplay extravaganza known as DragonCon, my Facebook notifications began blowing up. Within an hour, I had more than 40 notifications about an article published on Bleeding Cool about a popular cosplayer who’d marched with the white supremacists in the Charlottesville “heritage” protests. Curious, I read the article and then went back to my day, entirely unsurprised. Just like water is wet, white people are racist, and racism in cosplay culture has been normalized and capitalized on for years.

At least, this was my perspective. But the white and white-adjacent people on my friendlist were having fits, acting like this was an anomaly. They demanded people unfriend the white supremacist Supergirl or else. Suddenly — despite years of rarely if ever acknowledging, challenging, or confronting racism in the cosplay community — these people wouldn’t tolerate white supremacists.
Meanwhile, me and other Black cosplayers wondered how this was going to affect our experience at the convention. We wondered if the woman who marched was going to go to DragonCon (she didn’t). We wondered if her defenders would say or do anything (some uncomfortable, and frankly, white sympathizing conversations ensued, but they were not enough to cause disruption).

Once again, we had to navigate an event openly hostile to our participation, and to seek out spaces that felt safe. Once again, we had to consider the reality that true safety in any fandom is a lie.
It is well-known that euro-centric media is anti-Black and white supremacist; that it is rooted in erasing Black people from history, literature, science, pretty much everything. So it shouldn’t be a shock that the fandoms built around these properties are racist, too.

Take, for example, comic books, the source of a huge portion of popular culture and fan events today. For a long time, they were only publicly written by white men, and in 1954, their racism was enshrined in the propaganda-laden Comics Code. The code didn’t specifically say that Black people couldn’t be included in comics, but it did require the exaltation of police, judges, government officials, and respected institutions, and condemned all criminal activity, which at the time included things like a Black person using a “whites only” water fountain. Comics were written during the Civil Rights Movement, a time when Black people were arrested for daring to seek equality in the eyes of the law, something many white people to this day are fighting against, as evidenced by the current white supremacist commander in chief.
ixty-three years later, and Black people are still fighting for civil rights and representation in media. And, as part of this same racist ecosystem, we have racist fans fighting to keep their fandoms as white and male as possible.

There are countless examples of fans working to protect comics’ all-white-men legacy, from Trekkies threatening to boycott a new Star Trek series because the protagonist is a Black woman and the captain is an Asian woman, to people people pushing back against Tessa Thompson being cast as Valkyrie, orIdris Elba as Heimdall.

Quite simply, racism is built into cosplay because cosplay is rooted in racist intellectual properties. Everything from the lack of Black women characters to the criticisms and outright rejection Black people experience while trying to participate in fandom illuminates this issue. We watch shows about futures that have no Black people, and fantasize about alternative histories that somehow have no Black people. Worlds with dwarves, trolls, orcs, wizards, dragons, unicorns, and all types of mythical creatures and possibilities somehow still manage to have no Black people. And then, in turn, this racist legacy is enshrined by fan culture, which tells us we don’t belong — on the ludicrous grounds of “reverse racism” — when we deign to include ourselves in these fantastical narratives meant to excite the imagination.

This is how the vicious cycle continues, and fictional realms remain firmly the domains of white people.

As a fat, Black cosplayer, I’m very much aware of the lack of characters who resemble me. I know that when I cosplay, it will be my version of that character, because there aren’t any characters who physically match my skin, my body type, my hair, me. Even when strides are ostensibly made, I am left out; when Valiant Comics released their fat woman superhero, for example, she was a white, blue-eyed blond.

Another article: https://theestablishment.co/my-husb...sm-nearly-destroyed-our-marriage-6eaeec301161 (http://archive.md/XzwL9)

https://theestablishment.co/white-m...-us-to-save-them-from-themselves-f5463864d4f2 (http://archive.md/GIOhC)

Tweets:

Her story about being invisible on the bus: http://archive.md/4zqME

 

[Corrugated Daffodils]

I thought that character was supposed to start storms, not cause earthquakes where ever she walks.

 

[Looney Troons]

A lot of the screen caps in the OP mention chasing various things and being invisible. It’s quite obvious that she’s incapable of doing either.

 

[Medicated]

website: http://talynnkel.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TaLynnKel/ (http://archive.md/dY9lZ)
Twitter: https://twitter.com/TaLynnKel (http://archive.md/iTJk6)
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/talynnkel/



Recently, a writer for the establishment caught my eye for making this article:
https://theestablishment.co/your-fandom-is-racist-and-so-are-you-638c5200b15b (http://archive.md/Knxbx)



Another article: https://theestablishment.co/my-husb...sm-nearly-destroyed-our-marriage-6eaeec301161 (http://archive.md/XzwL9)

Tweets:

Her story about being invisible on the bus: http://archive.md/4zqME

I like how the site she writes for is called the establishment.

 

[Looney Troons]

I was going to probe for employment status, but found it much easier to find her Patreon. 15 patrons. She’s got a few things locked behind her $3 donator pay wall, looks like a video.

https://www.patreon.com/talynnkel

 

[Flustercuck]

she could slap me around with those titties I mean holy hell

 

[HOMO INSPECTUS]

yeah her tits are distressing, she has quarter-inch diameter goosebumps that look like CGI motion capture dots. i wonder just how many professional fat niggers there are in the wild

I thought that character was supposed to start storms, not cause earthquakes where ever she walks.

i legit didn't even realize that was supposed to be Storm, i thought she was dressed as a crackhead wearing a trashbag who headbutted a halloween store

 

[Cheerlead-in-Chief]

What is up with her Dark Phoenix cosplay?

 

[Uncle Warren]

Spoiler: Posting before someone else does it.

 

[Feline Darkmage]

Maybe if your opinions weren't so ridiculous they're pretty much full on poe's law troll sites wouldn't spread your message.

 

[Nutty Wizard]

Her latest on December 13th: https://theestablishment.co/white-m...-us-to-save-them-from-themselves-f5463864d4f2 (http://archive.md/GIOhC)

as I sit here, reflecting on the Senate race in Alabama, wondering how a credibly accused child molestor and open homophobe and racist was ever seen as an acceptable candidate — and how he only lost because Black voters and organizers worked tirelessly to ensure he did — I’m reminded of my childhood. Of how I’ve always been taught, and always known, that Black people must do so much and benefit so little.

When I was a kid, my father would say things like, “Your teachers are going to underestimate you. Prove them wrong.” Or “They are going to look for reasons to punish you. Don’t give them any.” Or “They are going to assume the worst about you. Be the best, instead.” And “Sometimes your best will still be seen as less than their worst. Be your best anyway.”
That was a lot of pressure for elementary school. Looking back, I see why he said these things. When I was in first grade, my teacher didn’t realize for half the year that not only could I read, but I was reading at a middle school level. Instead of acknowledging this, my teacher called me a troublemaker. My mom routinely came to school for “discipline” reasons due to my boredom. Once my mom understood what was happening, she had me moved to a teacher who not only understood that I was capable, but used my capability as a resource in her class, assigning me the task of helping other students with their reading. I know I wasn’t the only Black child labeled a troublemaker; I just happened to have a parent with the bandwidth to challenge that presumption. Those other kids were diminished and marginalized by a teacher who couldn’t be bothered to engage with her Black students; their future was defined by a white woman’s assumptions.

By middle school, I was the only Black child in the accelerated program. Twenty-nine white children and me. I’ve always found it peculiar that no other Black students were in that class with me, especially as many of the students in that class should not have been there, and by the next year were gone. Not that it was a great experience. My questions were interpreted as insubordinate. My high-test scores were evidence of cheating. My boredom with school was seen as a sign of disrespect. Over the years, I learned to still my fidgeting, mask my impatience, and stop asking questions, only to then be accused of not caring about my education. And when I behaved like the other kids in my class, I was forcibly reminded of my real status by my father.

“You don’t get to mess up,” he’d say. “You don’t get to do what everybody else does. You have to remember that when something goes missing, they will accuse you. When something is broken, you are their first suspect. Those people out there aren’t interested in your mistakes. When you screw up, you lose your chance.”

And when I forgot his lesson, the world reminded me of it, be it through re-tests when I earned perfect scores, or questions about the sources of my paper topics, or punishments for things outside of my control, like the time I lost my badge as a safety monitor for not preventing a fight from breaking out. Once, I was expected to take a test after returning from an educational trip — the teacher explained that despite spending the week in DC learning about the government, he couldn’t give me a week to learn the new material. That test brought down my grade, but my request for a few extra days was dismissed as asking for “special treatment” — and who was I to expect that?

Discrepancies like this happened throughout elementary school. Middle school. High school. Being in the accelerated program did provide me some protections; my proximity to what was thought to be the smartest examples of whiteness meant that I did receive the benefit of the doubt at times. I spoke like them. I excelled in their studies. I’d shown them that I could do what they do, and do it well. But they always saw my Blackness as something to be watched. Studied. Anticipated. They waited for an opportunity to prove I was irredeemable — just like those other Black people. Blood always shows…or in this case, skin. For years, they waited for the opening to throw me away.

I went to parties where my Blackness was shouted out. “Come meet my BLACK friend,” they’d say. When I balked they said I was too sensitive, and when I pushed they stopped inviting me. Disposable.

I was always on the outside. My absence, unnoticed. It is no surprise that when I stopped associating with them altogether, life moved on, the loss unimportant to all of us. I made new friends, gained new white people from forced proximity, and continued to learn that our friendships would never be deep, never be meaningful, and never last. I knew that if I couldn’t keep them comfortable in their whiteness, I would be disposed of. I learned not to care because by then, they were disposable, too.

But that was 20 years ago, and racism was talked about differently then. I grew up in the generation of kids raised by Black people who lived through the Civil Rights protests. Black people who now had opportunities that had been barred from them. My father taught me to do my best, stay quiet, and excel. Give them no reason to see you as disposable. Make yourself indispensable. Overcompensate. When they steal your work, learn to let it go. When they lie, protect yourself, just not at their expense. When they harm you, learn how to manage it without accusing them of anything. Do not make waves. Do not call them racist. Do not call them sexist. Smile, pretend everything is great, and then come home and let everything out. And always remember, they don’t want you there, so do everything you can to avoid giving them a reason to dispose of you. They will never let you belong.

We see this in all ways, all the time. From seemingly small incidents like being ignored at work to large ones like the lack of reporting on police violence against Black women, we see the humanity of Black women being dismissed and discarded in favor of whiteness. We see it every time a Black girl is viciously attacked by police or school security or the neighborhood watch, and white supremacy races in to “justify” that abuse. White people and people who support white supremacy justified Korryn Gaines’ murder. They justifyattacking Black teenage girls. They justify inhumane treatment of Black women because we aren’t supposed to matter, so for them, we don’t.

Which brings me back to Alabama.

Over the last few months, we watched white supremacy work overtime to disenfranchise voters and advocate for a known racist and alleged sexual abuser to take public office. And now that the election is over — and we see from the exit polls that Black women played a pivotal role in electing Doug Jones, the first Democrat Alabama senator in 25 years — we must, in typical fashion, watch as white supremacy skews the narrative to minimize and erase the impact and importance of Black women.

“They saved us,” white people say, erasing our personal motives and structuring the narrative to prioritize whiteness. As usual with white supremacy, our votes aren’t being viewed as designed to save us — they’re being viewed as designed to save white people. To save the country.

And meanwhile, this country we saved? It will inevitably continue to turn its back on us. “This is not just a question about African American voters,” Doug Jones said. “This election is about everybody in the state.” But somehow, that American “everybody” seems to rarely, if ever, include Black women.
We live in America, a country that was built on the exploitation and casual murder of Black people, and which has continuously blamed us for our struggles. For Black women in America, there are no good options. Very rarely are we able to choose someone who understands and represents us, and when we do, we are met with extreme prejudice and dismissal, regardless of qualifications and achievements.

And so, we are forced to support candidates who advocate locking us up, who call Black men “super predators,” who pass legislation to destroy our economic capabilities, and who profit off the suffering of Black and Indigenous People of Color (BIPOC). We do not make these decisions because we believe in these candidates. We do it out of pure pragmatism, because the choices are just that dismal.

Black women’s votes save so many people, yet our interests are the first to be discarded and ignored. Consider that, in the case of the Alabama election and so many others, we had to step up in spite of voter suppression, a constant battleground for Black women and a war that is largely ignored by white people. Because, after all, addressing that would mean white people could no longer perpetuate the narrative of their inherent benevolence and goodness.
Black women, we’re told, are here to save others, not ourselves. As we are asked to be strong Black women, capable of saving the world from itself, we are also told we can’t save ourselves from our male rapists and male abusers; we aren’t legally protected, and we aren’t socially protected. We aren’t even protected by our fathers, brothers, sons, or lovers…instead we are expected to save them, too, all while being happy we got a man to protect. We are taught to deny ourselves the love of anyone not Black, while being subjected to themisogynoir rampant in our society.

This is what it means to navigate the world as a Black woman. This is what it means to be disposable while refusing to be disposed of.

But I am not disposable. You can try. You do try. But I have spent my life refusing to be someone’s trash, and instead I am this amazing and accomplished Black woman. I live a life of joy and struggle, but I do what I can, embrace my humanity, and keep moving forward. I do it because that’s what I must do.

 

[Tragi-Chan]

It's clear that she doesn't know shit about the history of comics.

Spoiler: A brief history lesson

In the 193s/40s/50s, comics were something of a haven for minorities. In fact, I'm having trouble thinking of a Golden Age comic creator who was WASP. George Herriman, one of the most critically acclaimed comic creators of the early twentieth century, was half black. One of the reasons comics came under such scrutiny from the moral guardians was because they were seen as subversive - the whole "lol Batman and Robin r gay" thing came about because a lot of gay teenagers were Batman fans. Let's not even get started on the kinky stuff in Wonder Woman.

By the early 50s, comics had become increasingly lurid and gory - this was the time when horror and crime comics were the most popular genres. The comics publishers came up with the Comics Code Authority in order to self-censor, rather than potentially get shut down by the government (it also meant that rival publishers could tailor the code to target horror comic publisher EC Comics). The Code was insanely restrictive. As Talynn points out, it meant that crime had to be seen to be punished, although I cannot think of a single instance of Batman heroically stopping a black person from drinking at a fountain, because that would be a shit story. Her "Code demands crime be punished -> Breaking segregation laws was a crime -> COMICS ARE RACIST!" argument is about the flimsiest I've ever seen.

In any case, the Code has been largely irrelevant since the 1970s, when the FDA approached Stan Lee about producing an anti-drug comic. As the Code wouldn't allow even a negative portrayal of drugs, Lee's options were either to turn down the assignment or publish without Code approval. He went with the latter, and this basically opened the floodgates. The Code was reworked, but gradually fewer and fewer advertisers gave a shit whether comics were Code-approved and many publishers stopped bothering with it. Archie was the last to abandon it in 2011.

That's not to say there was no racism in comics. In the 40s, 50s and 60s it was perfectly acceptable to have characters like Whitewash Jones and Ebony White. If Talynn knew anything about comics beyond having seen a few Marvel films, she would surely know this. She might also point out the tendency in the post-Civil Rights era to give every black superhero a name like "Black Panther," "Black Vulcan," "Blackhawk." Perhaps she could mention Milestone Comics, an attempt to redress the balance with positive black protagonists, which sadly flopped and was bought out by DC.

I don't know, it seems to me that if you're going to sperg about how comics are racist, you should know at least the bare bones of what you're talking about.

And there are plenty of fantasy series that feature non-white protagonists. Evidently she's not buying them, though.

 

[Feline Darkmage]

Evidently she's not buying them, though.

>implying she has the money or actual interest to buy them and isn't just another no-lifer riding the nerd trend

 

[Perverted Cat]

Recently, a writer for the establishment caught my eye for making this article:
https://theestablishment.co/your-fandom-is-racist-and-so-are-you-638c5200b15b (http://archive.md/Knxbx)

Someone actually did a video response to that particular article.