Why I’m done with straight white men

Or at least avoiding books written by them

A woman's arm lifting a paperback book off a bookshelf

It’s a straight white man’s world and there’s no shortage of content produced by and for that demographic. Despite not being how the majority of people identify (at least in my home country, Canada, where about a third of respondents identified as racialised minorities in the most recent census and men make up slightly less than half of the total population), it would be pretty easy to watch, read, listen to nothing but straight white men!

My biggest motivator for seeking out non-white, non-straight, non-male authors (that’s a lot of nons!) is the continued dominance of media and artistic spaces by this group of bros. A disproportionate number of authors, journalists, actors, directors, writers, artists, and musicians come from the same dominant hegemony: heterosexual, caucasian, male and mostly unaware of their privilege. 

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Boycotting the bros

I read a chunk of a review for The Gentlemen to my husband last night. Something along the lines of: Colin Farrell is a scene-stealer, but it’s not quite clear why he’s even in the scenes to begin with.

“I like Colin Farrell. We should go see that,” he said. 

“I can’t,” I replied. “There aren’t any women in it.”

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