Dear Ms Jones,
You don’t know me. I’m just one of the countless nameless geeks and nerds of the world. I am also a woman. I am not white and I have no money.
That renders me pretty much voiceless in a world where only white males are heard; are listened to.
However I would like to write something, in the odd chance it ends up reaching you.
I was a teenager when the first Ghostbusters came out. I -like a million others- loved it. It became somewhat of a cult for me.
Just last year, Windsor, ON the city I currently live in, put the first Comic Con ever here. It was also the first Comic Con I ever attended. Needless to say, I was in heaven. Especially knowing I was going to meet a hero of mine, Ms Marina Sirtis, best known as Councillor Deanna Troi in Star Trek TNG.
Then the Pro Cosplayers started to arrive. Soon enough, I faintly hear (oh how I wish I could add sound to the post) tada ta ta ta… tada tada tada ta taaaaa… “If there’s something strange in you neighborhood. Who you gonna call?” I turn around and they there were: The Ghostbusters themselves. Well, okay, a group of cosplayers cosplaying the Ghostbusters. Still. I almost died right there. 30 something years later, I still squee’ed like a little girl who has just been transported to the Willy Wonka chocolate factory.
I ran to them and -politely- asked if I could take pictures. I was giggling, so happy I was.
So when I heard there was a Ghostbusters remake in the works, and with an all-female cast, I was beside myself with excitement and joy.
You see, I was born in Colombia. The phrase I remember the most from my childhood is: “you can’t do that. That is for boys”. Or its equally evil twin: “You are a girl, girls don’t do that”
It is hard to paint an accurate picture of what it is to grow up in such a patriarchal, sexist, oppressive culture is. But that’s OK. I now live in Canada and I am doing all the things I was always told I shouldn’t.
I am a self-rescuing princess/woman/warrior/superhero/astronaut/mad scientist .
At this point, Ms Jones, if you are still reading, you’ll be wandering what the heck all of this has to do with you.
And you are right in asking. Never was I very good at being concise. But the point is, I’ve been following your struggles as the premiere of Ghostbusters approached and I have been angered, saddened, outraged and many other things for all the crap America and the world is putting you through. Sure, the rest of the cast as well. But specially you. You’ve had to put up with a lot more grief and that’s due to one thing, and one thing only. Your gorgeous skin colour.
I won’t even going to repeat all that has transpired. I can’t even begin to imagine what it must have felt, what it must still feel to be the recipient of such hatred, such abuse.
So all I want to say to you, Ms. Jones, is that despite what those despicable beings we can hardly call human said, there are many of us who think you are amazing in every way. Awesome. Kickass. Brave. Smart. Funny as hell. And yes, also beautiful. Sexy. Hot. Those are not mutually exclusive.
You are a role model for me and for millions.
In the past few days, it seemed and looked like the haters were stronger, louder, bigger in numbers than the rest of us. Regardless how many of us took to the different social networks to decry the abuse, the abusers seemed to prevail. Mostly because those who could have stopped it in its tracks chose to be blind and deaf to them.
But in the end, the social pressure was big enough they had to pronounce themselves. A little victory but a big one at the same time.
It won’t take away the emotional pain you were subjected to, I’m sure.
But if there’s anything good out of this horrible evil is that as small as this win may be, you may know that we, your fans, love you and support you and will continue to denounce the many wrongs of this, our racist society.
Be well, Ms. Jones. Take good care of yourself.
And thank you from the bottom of my heart for giving the little girl that still lives in me, a wonderful role model she can proudly follow.
The Summer Solstice Girl