Join Us

Empowering the Next Generation of Women in Audio

Join Us

Gender in the Workplace Part 2

A Nonbinary Individual’s Foray into Corporate A.V.

I think my boss gave up on trying to remember my pronouns.

It started about two weeks in. During the hiring and application process, as well as preliminary training, I could tell he was trying. But after seeing how my other coworkers could skirt past it, I suppose he figured he could, too.

I don’t mean any harm to any of my coworkers, I would like to point out. The two 62-year-old guys’ guys can’t be held to the same standard as I could hold a Gen-Z’er with similar political ideologies to me. I don’t hold it against them, as I’m simply chronicling my experience in this line of work. But, and I mean this from the heart, I don’t want to work somewhere where I’m not seen as myself.

My entire A.V. team consists of men, with one exception. Since my transfem coworker quit, there’s only myself and one woman who bucks the trend. She’s a 26-year-old with a music degree and left-leaning views and sees herself as on the older end of Gen-Z. As you can imagine, she’s been my light in the dark during the harder days. She’s fairly consistent with getting my pronouns correct, as well, which is encouraging, especially seeing that I don’t think anyone else has tried.

I have a pin on my messenger bag that reads, in all capital letters, “MY PRONOUNS ARE THEM/THEY.” I’m not entirely sure why the order is them/they instead of they/them, but it’s an important object to me either way. I bought it at Lancaster Pride, back in 2017. I was just figuring myself out at the time. I waited until my friends were out of sight, and then purchased it with cash while nobody was looking. There was a sense of shame about it that I don’t feel anymore. But anyway, I bring this bag with me to work every day. And, believe it or not, this has caused some issues.

I’ve had three different coworkers try to “debate” me about my gender identity like each man somehow knew better than I did.

Those conversations were weird, to say the least, and deeply uncomfortable. The first of which was with an anti-mask climate change denier, so you can imagine how that went. His father and grandfather before him were upper-class white rural farmers. There was a disconnect in the way we were raised, and I think that that makes conversation with him trying at times. Mainly because he’s a man who doesn’t listen to science, not unless it supports his already deeply ingrained beliefs. In all his wisdom, he told me there are only two sexes, like this was somehow news to me. It was as if he genuinely believed I’d gone through over twenty years of life without knowing about chromosomes, and that they were the only basis of gender identity. I mentioned intersex individuals, and then he proceeded to ask me if I was one. Since I am not, he told me that I must be a woman.

The second conversation was with an intelligent guy from Baltimore, about in the same age range as the first fellow I mentioned. We were sitting in a Vietnam War memorial service and luncheon, held in the event center we work at. He and I were stationed at a tech table off to the side. I always really respected this coworker, as he’d had the most experience in the A.V. business. We were talking about history, and eventually, that conversation evolved into talking about the history of race and gender in the Vietnam War era. He is a black man, and he was specifically talking about the terminology used at the time. He mentioned that African American wasn’t a term they used at the time, and he expressed his distaste for it, seeing as he’d never even been to Africa. He was simply American, and he was black. The intersection where those two adjectives met is how he described himself– an intersectional identity.

He then brought up how the way he wore his hair, at the time, drastically changed others’ perception of him. On this topic, I mentioned that I felt the same. People didn’t readily assume I was nonbinary until I cut my hair. I enjoyed wearing my hair in long blonde curls, but it was easier to be nonbinary with short hair. People were able to clock me as queer, and it made the constant coming out a lot easier for me. That’s one thing to note about nonbinary identities– there’s a constant need to come out to be recognized. Hence the pins: it’s a way to be seen and respected without having to constantly address my identity. It’s a good thing, too, because that gets old quickly. My coworker then mentioned the pin on my bag and asked me what being nonbinary meant to me. I was taken a little aback by this, but given the deep nature of our conversation, I answered.

“To me, gender is a protest,” I said, trying to boil down years of study, a complex understanding of gender constructs, and Western societal tradition into one simple sentence. “I was told that, due to something about my body that I can’t change, I had to fit into a certain mold. I had to only spend time with girls, I had to worry about hiding my acne with makeup constantly, and I had to dress a certain way that identified me as a member of a certain sex. Girls were taught in school that they must hide their shoulders, lest they cause a man to stumble. Girls were told they should stay in the kitchen and live to serve men. It’s been less than a century since women were granted the ability to work, and even now wages don’t line up. We are all people, all the same, and I reject the idea that our anatomy somehow makes us inherently different. I believe, deep down, that we’re all the same species, and that our genders aren’t as important in our lives as society has taught us to believe.”

He then changed the topic to religion, and how his religion separated men and women. I felt my eyes gloss over as I listened to the same argument I’d heard a million times, that somehow, the creator made women the submissive, subservient sex. And you know what? I just don’t think that’s true. But agree to disagree, right? It was hurtful, but I wasn’t going to refute his opinion on the “debate” of my identity. He has worked here for over a decade. I’m not going to lose my job over this.

Y’know, this sort of thing doesn’t happen when I’m working in theatre. Before this A.V. gig, I was working at the Pennsylvania Shakespeare Festival as a sound engineer, just outside of Allentown, PA. It was such an eye-opening experience as to what the workplace could be. We were on a tight schedule, but my coworkers and I were always on the same page. I was left in charge of things once I felt comfortable, and there were always other LGBTQ+ individuals not too far away. I felt like a respected and responsible member of the team. It’s weird how something like respect can significantly alter the work environment. Here, in the A.V. position I hold now, I don’t feel as confident or self-assured. When working with coworkers here, I am talked over and talked down to, as if I don’t understand the things I studied at a collegiate level. I am very infrequently scheduled onboard op positions, despite that being my strength, as there’s always a guy “manning” the board. Even though my female coworker is in a managerial role, she’s still treated as if she were at the bottom of the totem pole.

So, I beg the question, is sexism the root of transphobia? In my experience, well. It’s starting to seem so.

On Knowing When to Leave (and Getting Fired Before You Can)

Unfortunately, I can no longer say I have never experienced racial discrimination in our industry.

About a year ago, I landed a job after the much-anticipated remodeling of a local midsized venue. I was hired with the understanding that I wouldn’t be one of the main engineers but still taking a handful of shows a month. As an unknown quantity, I would start as an A2, and then start getting A1 shifts once I had established myself a bit. It was exciting: the room was custom-made, and the consoles were top of the line aalthough not very common.

The reality was very different. Call times were texted late at night the day before. Advance info wasn’t received until hours before the call time. At most I was scheduled for two shifts in a month. Most months I had no shifts at all. In the end, I was only getting shifts if I specifically requested to work a show. When I asked what I could do to get more shifts I was given the equivalent of a verbal shrug. I was sidelined as an A2 and told I wasn’t experienced enough to move into the A1 role, despite being a regular A1 at a couple of other venues twice the size and being the FOH engineer for a local artist. I asked for my pay to get matched to my other venues and was declined. It felt like I was being pushed out somehow, even though I was never given the chance to establish myself.

I started to wonder if my demographics had to do anything with the work environment I experienced. I was the only woman of color on the audio staff, and one of a handful of nonwhite engineers. I was left off the schedule almost completely. The other two men were pushed down into working the smaller stage more often, even though we were designated as working in the main room. Everyone scheduled regularly in the main room was white and male. It felt like I was being singled out, but I wasn’t quite sure, because I felt that I wasn’t even around enough to have a clear picture.

It became more and more frustrating. I had never properly learned the console or even the venue because I was there so infrequently, so reconfiguring my file each time I worked and troubleshooting anything that happened was a slog. I would be cranky for 24 hours before the few shifts I had, partially because I knew how frustrating just doing my job would be and also because I still had no information about what time to show up or what the show was.

I decided that there was no point in continuing to request shows. It wasn’t a good working environment. Venue politics aside, the way the venue was set up and the amount of time that passed between my shifts made simply getting a show-up and running much more difficult than it needed to be. It was clear I wasn’t going to get more shifts; it was clear I wasn’t going to move up; it was clear I wasn’t going to get paid more, and losing $250 once every two months was an almost unnoticeable financial impact. I essentially didn’t work there anyway. Finding out that one of the other nonwhite engineers, who was very much established, was fired in part for questioning the same scheduling pattern I had noticed sealed the deal. I decided to quit sending in my availability.

Little did I know that I too would get fired before I could quietly fade myself out.

I had agreed to cover a shift when I realized I had double-booked myself. There were still several weeks to go, so I contacted the few coworkers I had contact information for, and when no one was free I contacted the person who was responsible for scheduling. Instead of helping me, he gave me three options: switch to a different day that week (not possible, as I was booked or out of town), pressure the original engineer into taking the shift back (not how that works), or dropping my conflicting shift (which I had committed to first, paid significantly more, and was with a company that gives me regular work). When I declined to take him up on any of those options, I heard nothing for a day, before receiving a very passive-aggressive text message telling me that I was off the shift and also no longer in the scheduling pool. Getting fired for something as standard as needing help finding coverage for a shift only confirmed that my instincts to get out of there were correct.

Walking away can be hard, but it’s important to know your worth and feel confident in your reputation as an engineer. If you don’t feel you’re getting anything out of a gig, and you can survive financially without it, there’s no shame in letting it go. Stand up for yourself and stick to your boundaries. It’s not a failure. There will always be more. This venue fired me while I was at my home venue doing the best-sounding FOH mix I’ve ever done in that room. Move on to somewhere that values you and don’t look back.

Black Lives in Music Survey (BLiM) Findings

 

The results of the largest ever survey of data focused on the experiences of black musicians and industry professionals

Black Lives in Music (BLiM) organization have released the results and findings of their survey which set out to capture data on the experiences of music industry professionals and creators.

It found conclusive evidence supporting the long-held beliefs about racial discrimination and has illustrated disturbing experiences of systemic and institutionalized racism in the UK Music Industry.

Read the report here

The largest survey of black musicians and music industry professionals conducted in the UK, partnering with Opinium Research, revealed a majority of those who took part have experienced direct or indirect acts of racism in the music industry.

The survey provides real-life data in the wake of revelations made by artists such as Raye, Alexandra Burke, Little Mix’s Leigh-Anne Pinnock, Beverley Knight, Sugababes’ Keisha Buchanan, and Mis-Teeq’s Sabrina Washington who have all recently spoke out about the covert and overt ways race has been a hindrance to their careers.

Those surveyed reported a range of discriminatory acts and “sometimes hostile working environments.” All founded on factors including barriers to progression based on their ethnicity, the marked and particular ways black women are specifically affected, income inequalities, and more.

Additionally, the survey found black artists granted less studio time than their white counterparts, refused event performance opportunities, and being told to change the type of music they create. Furthermore, the widespread assumption that they are ‘urban artists’ despite whatever genre of music they make because of their race.

Black female artists in particular have been told by management companies and labels that they need to assimilate to white/euro-centric standards as they do not know how to market a black female artist.

Key findings include:

The results illuminate statements made by high-profile artists about their experience in the UK music industry. X-Factor winner Alexandra Burke revealed in a BBC documentary special hosted earlier this year by Little Mix’s Leigh-Anne Pinnock that she was told – “You need to bleach your skin because you won’t sell any records.”

Further highlighting the under-discussed realities of colorism, Beverley Knight told ITV News in 2020 that a record company digitally lightened her skin on the cover of her first album so she’d appear more presentable and acceptable to a non-black audience.

Keisha Buchanan, a founding member of Sugababes emotionally revealed that she went through a decade of therapy in the wake of her controversial departure from the group in 2009. She claims she was consistently labeled an “aggressive bully” and stereotypically portrayed as an “angry black woman”. Saying “I didn’t realize that I would be having to go through therapy to help me to cope with some of the trauma that I’ve experienced while being in the Sugababes, or being in the public eye”.

Raye has also opened up about the negative impacts to her mental health that she experienced while fighting with her record label who refused to release her album. She recently told The Guardian, “I am just beside myself about how the beautiful songwriters that I know, a lot of whom are women, and a lot of whom are women of color, are just hustling out here. I’m angry, I’m raging.”

The survey found some stark data identifying a link between this discrimination and mental wellbeing, especially among black women. 42% of black women surveyed said their mental health had worsened since starting a career in music and 16% had sought counseling due to racial abuse. Citing various reasons from the barriers to progression and overt racial discrimination, the report also found that black women earn 25% less on average than their white female colleagues, and 46% earn less than half their revenue from music (compared to) creating extra pressure to find other routes to supplement their income.

The BLiM Survey makes several recommendations to address the issues and emphasizes collaboration across the UK music industry as key to addressing imbalances.

Transparency around and the gender and ethnic pay gap, training programs to increase diversity in middle and senior management in music organizations, and investment in grassroots music education are some of the key points. BLiM also calls on the music industry to create an anti-racism support service to support creators and professionals with a helpline available to Black creators and professionals who experience racism in the music industry. Also, providing referral and in-depth therapeutic support.

Join BLiM for a weekly series of webinars ‘Being Black In The UK Music Industry’ from October 13th – 3rd November, dissecting the report and what it means to be a Black creator or industry professional in the UK, co-sponsored by tunecore.  Register via www.guesthouslive.co.uk

Charisse Beaumont, Chief Executive, Black Lives in Music:

“You cannot change what you cannot measure. Nearly 2000 people responded to our survey on ‘The lived experience of Black music creators and industry professionals in the UK music industry. That is 2000 people hoping for genuine change. This is the first of its kind report which holds a mirror up to the UK music industry showing what it actually looks like. The disparities Black creators and industry professionals are faced with is rooted in traditionalism and systemic racism.  The report highlights racist culture and behaviors in the workplace, financial barriers, and lack of investment in Black music creators, and industry professionals unable to reach their career goals. The report also spotlights Black women being the most disadvantaged across all areas of the music industry and how all of these factors affect the mental health of Black creators and industry professionals. This is data, you cannot ignore it. The data clearly shows that change is needed across the entire music ecosystem from grass root education all the way up to record labels. I hope industry leaders read this report and hear the voice of those who spoke out. I hope this report evokes change in the way we do our music business which has greatly profited from Black talent. 

“We are looking forward to working with all music industry leaders to ensure that we can achieve change, together.”

Help Musicians – James Ainscough, CEO:

“Thanks to Black Lives in Music, the data in this report proves that the individual stories we hear from professional musicians cannot be explained away as rare, one-off incidents but are illustrative of significant, widespread problems that we must all work together to address. It is clear there is more that Help Musicians should do, collaboratively, to create lasting change within the music ecosystem and we look forward to engaging with the BLiM team to work out where we can be most impactful. It is a privilege to be a major funder of BLiM and we hope that the creation of this report will help us, and others, make a difference to improving the lives and careers of black musicians.” 

PRS Foundation – Joe Frankland, CEO:

“The UK music sector has a lot more work to do to tackle the anti-Black racism which prevents Black music creators and music professionals from fulfilling their potential and is therefore holding the whole industry back.

The Black Lives in Music Report 2021 lays out severe inequalities and differences in experiences in a way that makes it easy to see how underrepresented, marginalized and under-supported Black people in music are, and how urgently we must all address these issues.

The report has built a much clearer picture of the barriers we have been discussing through our POWER UP initiative launch and participant open call. A huge majority of Black music creators and industry professionals experience barriers to progression, with an unacceptable proportion of people experiencing direct and indirect racism. And these barriers have worsened as a result of the pandemic which is disproportionately impacting those already underrepresented. The situation for Black women in the survey is different and more pronounced, and an intersectionality lens needs to be applied to any work the sector does to improve things.

As CEO at PRS Foundation, I am more determined than ever to address the issues shown in the report, and through POWER UP we are proud to work closely with Charisse, Roger and the Black Lives in Music team, aligning approaches to achieve the meaningful change many survey respondents and those in the wider music community demand.”

Tunecore-  Faryal Khan-Thompson, VP of International:

“Black Women Matter: We still need to identify, acknowledge, and tackle the problem of intersectional racism in the music industry that hits black women the worst. This report clearly highlights this, and it is so important to have research done that focuses specifically on the challenges black creators and industry professionals face because we know that much of the industry has and continues to profit off of black people and appropriates black culture, and yet they are the most disadvantaged community in the industry today. BLIM’s report should serve as a catalyst for industry-wide change. As a woman of South Asian descent, it’s important I recognize my various privileges but also solidarities with black communities, that lead naturally to developing an allyship with them, especially black women creators in the industry. There is a lot of work to be done, and I commend BLIM for their groundbreaking research study and will do whatever I can to support their mission.”

Leigh Morgan, Global Director of Editorial & Marketing, Believe:

“In 2020 we stood in solidarity with the music industry and the community of black professionals, initially we participated in #BlackoutTuesday. Since then our teams have been building initiatives, strategies and finding leading partners to help break down the barriers of structural racism which are not only pervasive within the music industry but throughout society. At Believe we feel passionately that things need to change and this change is being sought by our people at every level. We have been extremely happy to have found and work with the team at BLiM here in the UK. We thank them for creating this first-of-a-kind report. The report makes for uncomfortable reading but we are fully supportive of it and its findings.”

Graham Davies, CEO of The Ivors Academy:

“We fully support the report’s recommendations and are committed to playing our part to bring about transformative change in the music industry. Our thanks go to Black Lives in Music and all the respondents for providing details of their experiences. This report is an important step towards our shared goal of an inclusive industry that’s free of prejudice and discrimination, where there’s equal opportunity and treatment, and we create positive and lasting change for Black music creators.”

About Black Lives in Music

Talent is distributed evenly, opportunities are not! Black Lives in Music addresses the current inequality of opportunity for black people aspiring to be artists or professionals in the Jazz and Classical music industry. Black Lives in Music believes in real equality for Black people to learn musical instruments at a grassroots level and to allow them to pursue and realize their musical ambitions.

Black Lives in Music is made up of a number of partners who are all working towards the same goal: to dismantle structural racism in our industry. We aim to support the industry in providing better professional opportunities. We also want to achieve equality for Black professionals at all levels and in all areas of the UK Jazz and Classical industry. Representation matters, we need to take action together and create a level playing field for everyone to have an equal chance to succeed.

Black Lives in Music stands for equal opportunities – for Black people to be able to work successfully in the UK music industry without being the subject of discrimination.

 

Britney Spears Wins Conservatorship Battle

The autumn of 2021 has brought a mix of news addressing the abuse of women in the music industry. The world saw R. Kelly found guilty of sexual abuse after a 25+ year string of horrific ongoing allegations. In the following week, UK pop singer Sophie Ellis Bextor and model Emily Ratajkowski shared in their upcoming respective autobiographies their stories of abuse – Ellis Bextor of being raped by a prominent musician when she was aged 17, and Ratajkowski of being groped by Robin Thicke while filming the Blurred Lines music video. It highlights a huge amount of work still to be done when it comes to protecting women and girls, and across these stories from recent times it’s quite unbelievable that there are even discussions – or legal battles – about what is and what isn’t acceptable when it comes to the physical, sexual abuse, extortion, coercive control and manipulation of human beings.

The #FreeBritney Campaign

Following the Britney Spears legal battle progress since the summer of 2021, it’s been some consolation to see the publicity around the case work in the singer’s favour, and to observe the end of the conservatorship from her father Jamie Spears. At the same time, it’s been bittersweet as more details have been revealed about the singer’s life over the last 13 years and the effect this has had on her.

Britney recently claimed her father had abused the conservatorship and that he had “ruined her life”. In July, her newly appointed lawyer Mathew Rosengart, (who Spears had hired herself) began the process to remove Jamie Spears. By September this finally came to pass, with Jamie Spears relinquishing the conservatorship and dropping his request to extract a multi-million-dollar settlement in doing so.

Judge Brenda Penny has assigned a new, temporary conservatorship over Britney Spears’ estate and financial affairs in accountant John Zabel, who was chosen by Britney and her legal team. This temporary measure is undoubtedly a huge win for the singer, who has had no say or control over her finances in 13 years.

What happens next?

Britney Spears’ legal team then submitted a request to have a new hearing take place that would address ending the conservatorship completely. This is scheduled for 12th November. It will be interesting to see what transpires from this request, as a ruling on either side will raise significant questions once more about the ethics of the singer’s ongoing situation; if Spears is ruled as capable and not in need of a conservator then it will beg the question of why this situation continued for so many years without opposition, and conversely, if she is ruled as incapable and in need of a conservator then we must ask whether it’s morally acceptable to expect someone to work without control of their payments.

Additionally, the technical details of this ruling from Judge Penny mean that Jamie Spears is ‘suspended’ and not ‘terminated’ from the conservatorship which is an important detail – by suspending him, means the courts can investigate further details from the case relating to allegations of his coercion and extortion. Most notably, these claims were highlighted in the recent documentary Controlling Britney Spears, outlining the information that the singer was bugged, monitored, and surveilled around the clock by a security company hired by Jamie, and that anyone close to her was obliged to sign a non-disclosure agreement. There are rumours circulating that Britney’s lawyer will pursue action against both Jamie Spears and the team behind the scenes who benefited from her work over these years.

As the next legal installment is prepared in the coming weeks, it’s safe to say that Britney is pleased with the progress thus far – the singer shared a video while taking a flying lesson on Instagram after her win, saying that she was “on cloud 9 right now”. The public reception to the news from fans and celeb friends alike has been overwhelmingly supportive. We hope the next November hearing has a positive outcome for the singer and will prove to be a step in the right direction in supporting women who are fighting for autonomy that rightfully belongs to them.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by XILA MARIA RIVER RED (@britneyspears)

Britney Spears: 13 years without Autonomy

 

While pop music isn’t necessarily my go-to listening choice, it’s ever-present as an underlying soundtrack to our lives, marking the milestones we’re often unaware of until they’ve passed. Sometimes it’s not necessarily the music, but the personal stories that mark these moments. This is apparent when following the unfolding legal battle of Britney Spears, which in a nutshell has been an eye-opening story of the exploitation and suffering of a woman who at almost 40 years old, is under the control of her previously alcoholic, absent father.

Reflecting back on her public 2007 breakdown, I remember how I couldn’t have hummed any of her recent tracks, but her freshly shaven head was looking at me from every shelf in every shop, from trashy mag to ‘newsworthy’ rag. The world laughed and reveled in watching the downfall of a young, successful woman who was most likely battling post-partum depression at the very least. After years of media hounding and criticism for everything the pop star did, it seems unsurprising that she eventually snapped while in the middle of a divorce and custody battle over her children – stressful prospects on their own for anyone.

Perhaps it’s worth going back to 1998, when Spears first shot to fame as a pop singer with the single Baby One More Time, wearing pigtails and a revealing school uniform in the music video, while she was still legally a child. I find this problematic for so many reasons, but it’s particularly notable as for the last 20+ years this woman has been both infantilized and sexualized in tandem at every opportunity – a truly toxic combination that has been used to weaponize almost everything against her since the start.

Coming back to the current situation, Britney Spears is challenging the conservatorship that gives her father, Jamie Spears control over her life. So what does that mean?

Merriam-Webster’s definition of ‘conservator’ is given as: “A person, official, or institution designed to take over and protect the interests of an incompetent.” In its most usual context, a conservatorship is generally implemented as a means to care for vulnerable, often elderly people to prevent them from being conned or taken advantage of. It is also used to protect those who may be a danger to themselves in terms of forgetting or neglecting their own self-care.

Britney was placed under conservatorship in 2008, and this was initially supposed to be temporary, however, it was extended indefinitely later that year, and has now been in place for 13 years. At the start, she was given a court-appointed lawyer who she was unable to choose herself. To cancel this arrangement, a petition to terminate the conservatorship needs to be filed by the person in question (the conservatee), which Spears claims she was not told until recently. This is where we currently are, observing Britney’s attempts to remove her father’s control. As such, she is currently paying the legal costs for both sides in the case.

Obviously, as members of the public looking in, it’s impossible to know the whole truth of the situation, however, what we do know is that Britney has worked consistently through this time, including a four-year residency in Vegas, which is no mean feat. Knowing this, the question has to be asked: which is it – is she incapable or not? If she’s incapable, then how on earth can she be trusted to work a demanding residency for four years? Is this what ‘an incompetent’ looks like? And if this is how one of the most famous, high-earning, and successful women in pop music gets treated, then what is the treatment of others likely to be? How do women get treated when they have a lot less privilege, or face similar cases of ‘he said, she said’?

In court transcripts from June made by the singer, Spears explained that she has no say in making decisions about her own body – she has been placed on birth control and under the influence of extremely strong drugs without her consent:

“I want to be able to get married and have a baby. I was told right now in the conservatorship I am not able to get married and have a baby. I have an [IUD] inside of myself right now so I don’t get pregnant… but this so-called team won’t let me go to the doctor to take it out because they don’t want me to have children. So basically, this conservatorship is doing me way more harm than good. Lithium is a very, very strong and completely different medication compared to what I was used to. You can go mentally impaired if you take too much if you stay on it longer than five months.”

Spears also addressed the financial elements of the arrangement whereby she is refused access to her own money. Court documents confirmed that the singer was given a weekly allowance of $2,000, and her father Jamie earned $16,000 per month in addition to his office expenses and additional percentages of her income. She explained:

“I shouldn’t be in a conservatorship if I can work and provide money [for] other people. It makes no sense whatsoever for the state of California to sit back and literally watch me with their own two eyes, make a living for so many people, and pay so many people, [taking] trucks and buses on the road with me and be told, I’m not good enough. But I’m great at what I do. And I allow these people to control what I do, ma’am. And it’s enough. It makes no sense at all.”

Britney has also gone on the record saying that she had never wanted her father to become involved and that he “loved the control to hurt his own daughter” and worked her hard, punishing her if she didn’t follow his orders. She explained the complete lack of control over her own career, saying:

“My management said if I don’t do this tour, I will have to find an attorney, and by contract, my own management could sue me if I didn’t follow through with the tour, it was very threatening and scary. And with the conservatorship, I couldn’t even get my own attorney. So out of fear, I went ahead and I did the tour.”

While these elements of her lack of autonomy have shocked the world, there are also small things Spears is asking for that highlight just how tightly controlled she is – Britney wants to be able to visit nearby friends alone, pop out to the nail salon, and head out with her boyfriend in his car. She is not currently allowed to do any of these things.

The 2021 New York Times documentary Framing Britney Spears has raised awareness and backed the #FreeBritney movement which has gained momentum as more news has come to light. It’s interesting that following the documentary’s release and the June hearing which has attracted attention, Spears’ lawyer Samuel D Ingham III has stepped down along with her manager Larry Rudolph. Ingham had previously received $373,000 in 2019 in this role. Additionally, Spears’ financial management firm the Bessemer Trust has requested to resign in recent weeks.

The documentary not only explains the facts of the current legal battle in an easily understandable manner, but additionally outlines just how sickeningly well-oiled the misogyny media machine is, and how quickly it can turn on women such as Spears. The film also raises some important questions about how we treat those going through mental health struggles, how we continue to treat women in general, and moreover, how those in positions of authority in the legal system can take the word of an alcoholic, absent father over that of a successful, adult woman.

While there’s a glimmer of hope in the present climate as we reflect on what should now be seen as outdated and unacceptable behavior from a bygone era, we must address that there is still work to be done when it comes to how we value mental health, ensuring financial and bodily autonomy for all, and lastly, we desperately need to start actually listening to women, especially those who ask for help. The next hearing in the Britney Spears case is scheduled for 14 July.

Life in the Less-Than-5%

 

As hate against those who look like me has skyrocketed in the past year, and been largely ignored by the music industry, I’ve started to rethink my assumptions about how I can move through the audio world. If women make up 5% of sound engineers, then the percentage of women of color like me is even smaller. In my nine years in live sound, I have never crossed paths with another Asian-American sound tech, although I know we exist. The times that someone onstage has looked like me have been far and few between. I always thought I would have to be extra careful about my safety because of my gender, not because of my ethnicity. Clearly, that was naïve.

As strange as it feels to say, I am one of the “lucky” ones: nothing I’ve gone through has been bad enough to force me out of the industry. A friend of mine, who is also Chinese-American, had such a bad experience interning at Big Name Music Hall with a boss and coworkers that constantly asked him incredibly invasive, weird, and racist questions that he decided to stop pursuing a career in live sound altogether. I’ve experienced nothing so constant and pervasive. The worst environment I’ve been in was as at my first and only training at a production company whose manager went on a bizarre, semi-incoherent rant for several minutes about how racism doesn’t exist, and “the only racism” is green (money), which was triggered by a comment made about the Papa John’s Pizza we were eating. 

Most of the racism I’ve experienced come in the form of the harassment most women face anyway, just with an extra racial component. The stereotype of Asian women as sex-hungry “dragon ladies” who exist only to serve white male pleasure is alive and well (just look at the coverage of the Atlanta shootings). So the assholes who aggressively hit on me and wouldn’t take no for an answer might throw in a reference to anime, hentai, massages, and happy endings, Japanese schoolgirls, or anything else that would make what they are saying that much more degrading. Another non-white friend and I found ourselves and our credentials excessively scrutinized at the few AES meetings we have gone to, compared to the other new faces at the meetings. The gatekeeping worked – I haven’t gone back. Moving from clubs and bars, where often there is no one able (or willing) to back you up, into the more structured world of larger music venues, where the touring crew probably know my coworkers and I am suddenly a friend-of-a-friend instead of a complete stranger, has helped cut a lot of this.

What never goes away are the offhand comments and assumptions. The negative ones are self-explanatory: assuming I don’t speak English or learned English as a second language, pressing me about “Where [I’m] really from” or asking “What are you”, arguing with me about whether or not I am a different Asian sound engineer who you worked within a city I’ve never lived in, being asked to confirm my citizenship by someone literally holding my U.S. Passport when filling out paperwork. Being called ‘China doll’, having someone proudly explain to me how they can tell the different types of us Asians apart as if that deserves my congratulations and gratitude. The supposedly complimentary ones, often based in stereotypes like the model minority myth, are equally as gross: saying that they’re glad I’m Asian because I’ll work harder, or assuming I can do a quick calculation on the spot because I’m Asian, and therefore good at math. And of course, there is the classic ‘Oh I love your culture!’, which is quickly followed by a bunch of half-baked romanticized stereotypes that probably aren’t even from the right country. 

Overall, the biggest issue I’ve run into in my career is tokenism: being paraded or held up for being a person of color as proof of diversity. It was particularly bad at my first job, whereas the only non-white sound engineer I was constantly pressured to participate in the marketing campaigns, fundraising events, tabling, and basically become the face of the audio program. There was a hard push to show how diverse we were as an organization when we really were not. A single person cannot be diverse! I declined until I was eventually left alone, but it was extremely uncomfortable to go through, especially as a high schooler.

Recently it’s resurfaced again, in a slightly different form. I have become the token woman/minority audio engineer success story to a white coworker of mine, who I barely even know. This person has tagged me in social media posts about how inspirational it is to see a non-white woman in audio, and has privately sent me several long messages of solidarity and apology over inconsequential things the venue has done. Did I have to ask my venue to put STOP AAPI HATE up on the marquee? Yes. Was it painful or traumatizing that they didn’t put it up automatically and I had to make that request? No. It was moderately annoying at best, and it’s insulting to decide that it was something deeply distressing on my behalf. To continue doing so after I have explained that to you that this not the case at all is ridiculous. Removing my agency from the situation and operating under the assumption that it is the duty of white people to swoop in and save me, is not ‘being an ally’. It is an unhelpful and infantilizing statement that paints me so delicate that something as simple as requesting my venue speak out is a shattering ordeal. 

Flattening me into a single dimension, whatever the intention, is not okay. It takes the complex, whole person that I am and reduces me down to be defined solely by my race. It doesn’t matter how much solidarity you claim to have if you can’t see past the surface of my skin. Especially at work, the body that I am in should come second to what really matters: the fact that I am a great sound engineer. 

 

Letting Go of Anger

 

We have all had bad days at work. Sometimes there is that guy who won’t let up with the comments, the guy who will try to take things out of your hand because you can’t possibly carry anything. Sometimes every decision you make is questioned, and every conversation is used to try and trip you up. Even when you are the boss, this can still happen. (more…)

Identifying the Battles Worth Fighting

 

Please note – this blog is just my observations and thoughts. It is written to encourage debate, ideas, and reflection on sexism within our industry. It is important that we look at it from different angles and perspectives. It is not written to suggest that we simply ignore it and move on – it was written to help understand the different views women have on sexism and how they choose to combat it.  Would love to hear how you have decided to deal with it.

As I have been exploring sexism within the audio industry – I have discovered two opposing views from women. The first view that is echoed by women that are established in their careers is that – Yes, there is sexism but it has not hindered or held them back. They feel that they worked hard, often harder than their male co-workers, did not give up, and have confidence in their craft. They state that they rarely see sexism and believe that women have made huge strides and the industry is very accepting. (more…)

No Girls Allowed!

About a month ago, I was scrolling through my feed on Facebook and noticed a post from one of our members, apologizing to her co-workers that she had somehow offended the night before. What did she post that would offend so many of her co-workers? She had posted SoundGirls and Women’s Audio Mission logos and websites. Seems fairly harmless, and I can’t see how it was offensive. (more…)

X