On 03/14/14, I sent an email to Kelly McBride. It was just a little after 1am. I’d already sent her several tweets hours before outlining every single thing that was incorrect about the piece that she’d written about me on Poynter that I didn’t even know existed until some dude started trolling me. I found a link to it on his timeline & was sick when started reading it. I called her a “lazy & wrong lasagna” (layered with lazy & filled with wrong.) I told her that it was clear that she’d done ZERO research before writing the piece. She said I didn’t identify as an assault survivor. She tried to silence the voice that took me 14 years to get the courage to use. She said she’d love to speak with me. I told her I’d love for her to go fuck herself. (This was the 2nd time in 12 hours that I’d had someone attempt to interview me AFTER the rushed to post a story without speaking with me about it first.) This isn’t where I made the mistake though. My mistake came when I sent her that email and tried to connect with her on a human level. Somehow I thought that if I shared a story with her that I’d never shared with anyone before, she’d feel how I felt the previous evening when hundreds of women from all over the world shared their stories of assault with me. I was hoping that she’d say "Wow. I was wrong. I’m sorry that I just looked at your Twitter avatar & assumed that I knew enough about you to write about you without ever doing a teaspoon of research." Instead, Kelly copied one of her male colleagues on that same email thread! Now the story of my assault is sitting in some guy’s inbox. When I pointed this out to her via email, she didn’t even say “whoops.” She never acknowledged it.
After pouring my heart out to her in that email at 1am, I woke up the next morning to discover that the story had been updated but I wasn’t able to locate any updates. (I’m so glad that I’d had the foresight to screencap the original before anyone went in & made any changes.) All of the wrong info was still there, including the title which essentially referred to ME as being “mad” at BuzzFeed for using tweets that didn’t belong to me. She said that I “missed the note.” The irony of referring to me as not getting the memo when she clearly never read the memo her damn self. This was never the case. The people who “got mad” were other survivors who were upset with the list-icle format & being exploited for “clickbait.” I was hurt. I remember laying in my bed that Friday morning looking at the unchanged Poynter piece on my iPhone with tears rolling down my cheeks. Her negligence resulted in COUNTLESS other posts being written based upon her WRONG information. Suddenly I became the girl who was too dumb to know that the internet is public & I was too stupid to know that I didn’t own other people’s tweets.
Below are the screencaps of the original piece that was posted on Wed, 03/13/14. And screencaps of the “correction” version that went up just before midnight on 03/14/14. Entire paragraphs & words were added to the correction (I’ve bulleted those changes below.) I asked for retraction in that 1am email. I was told by her editor (the same guy who she copied on that email) that Poynter has never issued a retraction before so that’s why they didn’t take the story down. (He also said that the reason why the site showed an update that next morning, was because the story had been moved from 1 place on their site to another.) I explained that it was SO wrong in SO many places, it needed to be completely re-written so a retraction was necessary. Instead, Kelly changed the title, & added paragraphs so that anyone reading the story now wouldn’t see what was wrong with it to begin with. But now you can. I’m not going to try to make this grown woman do the right thing any longer. It’s clear that it’s not in her nature and I have too many great things happening in my life to focus on her any longer.
Changes from pic 1 to pic 2:
Title (yay…I’m no longer the representative of the people who got mad! *throws confetti*)
Changed "@steenfox challenged Testa for failing to get mermission to use the tweets" to "get permission from her." She could’ve added “…to use her photo" but this would’ve changed everything written after that because her main objective was to write about "But that raises the question: permission for what?" YOU KNOW THE ANSWER!!! >_<
Changes from pic 3 to pic 4:
Changed “raises the question” to “begs the question”
Changed "@steenfox does not identify herself as a survivor & neither does Testa" to "@steenfox did not identify herself as a survivor in the two tweets that asked others to share their stories." BACKPEDDLE DOT COM. No matter how she tries to rephrase silencing my voice, she still silenced my voice. I identified myself as a survivor. Everyone who READ my TL that night knew this. In email she said “I’m sorry that I said you did not identify yourself as a sexual assault survivor. I meant that in the context of asking the question of what you were wearing.” I replied with a screencap of my tweet where I DID identify as a survivor.
Added "In an email to Poynter, @steenfox explained her main objective with BuzzFeed was the use of her image with the story without permission." I also told her that Testa didn’t ask me for permission to use MY tweets too but whatever…
Changed "Journalists harbor great sensitivity" to "…great reservations." Perhaps because she didn’t harbor great sensitivity?
Changes from pic 5 to pic 6:
Added the paragraph “This is tricky territory because BuzzFeed doesn’t identify her as a sexual assault survivor, and it’s not apparent if Testa even knew that fact. (BuzzFeed editors declined to answer that specific question.) Except for sexual assault victims, journalists rarely offer carte blanche anonymity.” UM, DATS ME DOE!
The correction notes that the sentence where McBride *misidentified* me was clarified and that 1 other paragraph was “changed to amplify” what my issue with BuzzFeed was. Why didn’t the correction mention ANY of the other bullet points above? Oh, I know why…#NewEthics
Last night, @SteenFox, opened up her Twitter timeline for women to share the clothes they were wearing at the time that they were sexually assaulted. This was in response to the belief that women who dressed a certain way somehow…
Kelly McBride (@kellymcb) wrote an article on Poynter that included information about me. She failed to do any research about me before writing this article. The end result was that I had people harassing me online because they were misinformed as a result of reading a piece written by a person who is a self-proclaimed “ethicist”. According to Poynter, she’s "one of the countries leading voices when it comes to media ethics." If you can’t trust an ethics expert to cover a story accurately then who can you trust? If not for the harassment that I received via Twitter, I wouldn’t have even known the article existed.
In her post, she stated that I don’t identify as a rape survivor. She also said that I reached out to BuzzFeed writer Jessica Testa & “challenged” her and was “mad.” So mad in fact that she titled her piece “BuzzFeed reporter gets permission to use rape survivors tweets but people still got mad.” People = ME. Because I’m the only “mad” person that she referenced in the entire post & she used 1 screencapped tweet from my Twitter TL which was easily misinterpreted by readers because there was no context other than that which she created to spin her story. That being said, here are the things that Kelly McBride owes me an apology for:
1.) Her general laziness: Had she researched before writing her piece she wouldn’t have:
Silenced my voice by saying I didn’t identify as a survivor when I clearly did. It took me a long time to get that voice & it was a disservice to me to have it silenced in an online publication.
Referred to me as being “mad”, using my tweet out of context, and saying that I “challenged” Jessica Testa for not asking me for permission to use the stories of the men & women on my Twitter timeline when my issue was that Testa did not ask ME permission to use a huge PHOTO OF MY FACE as well as my tweets. Testa asserted that she got everyone’s permission to use their tweets & images & would blur the names/faces of those who requested it. She did not give ME these options & took liberty of using my Twitter profile picture not only throughout the post but as the thumbnail that shows up on BuzzFeed’s home page & on Twitter and Facebook feeds. THIS was the permission that I was upset I didn’t have the option to grant. Posting a photo of a rape survivor online without their permission has to violate some law. If nothing else, it’s just downright unethical. McBride spun her story & I was not represented properly and for that, she owes me an apology.
2.) She took 36 hours to post corrections. She had time to reply to the people in the comments section under the article that she “reached out to me” which is a half truth. She sent me a tweet but I never saw it because my Twitter feed was moving too quickly.
3.) Not treating me with the respect that someone who has "researched how the media documents rape for more than 10 years" would by copying someone on the email that I sent her with my entire personal assault story on it that I told her I had NEVER shared with anyone before. Instead of starting a new email thread or deleting the content, she once again opted for the LAZY & CARELESS route and cc’ed a male reporter on the email thread. Unbelievable.
4.) Not giving enough of a shit but to call me “Christina” after all of the above.
I’d also like to point out that after I revealed to her that I am a survivor, she said that what she meant in her post was that I didn’t identify myself as a survivor as it related to the topic of “what people were wearing when they were assaulted”, to which I responded with a photo of my tweet where I DID “identify” myself as a survivor as it pertained to the question. No matter how she tries to rephrase it, she’s wrong. If that’s what she really meant, she was wrong twice.
In a nutshell, Kelly McBride owes me an apology for the unnecessary mental duress, tears, stress & frustration that she caused me to endure. She needs to apologize for being wrong. She had countless opportunities to do the right thing but after I sent her a long email at 1am on 03/14/14 detailing my assault, clarifying the issues with Testa’s BuzzFeed post, and outlining all of the areas where HER post was wrong, she replied that she’d like to talk to me about doing a “follow up.” Follow up? She needed to do a retraction. I told her everything she needed to know in the email that took me over an hour to draft and I told her these things via Twitter. I identified the problem & told her to fix it. And from that moment on, I had to wait SIXTEEN HOURS for her to add corrections to the bottom of the original post.
Here I am at 11:00 pm on Saturday 03/15/14 and I STILL haven’t gotten a simple apology. I’ve asked her via email and via Twitter multiple times. She has ignored my emails but had time to tweet a link to a Guardian post about SXSW that she was quoted in at 6:53 pm.
Twitter is quite an interesting place. You can learn from it, gain a support system from it, and, equally important, be entertained 24/7. From side-splitting cultural satire to witty insults to simply clever arrangements of everyday ideas, here is a list of tweets from 25 people that will have…
I’m back in the kitchen finally and excited about preparing your favorite Steen’s Cookies flavors! If this is your 1st time ordering or if you’re a return customer & don’t remember the ordering process, I am including instructions below. If you’re not clear on anything please don’t hesitate to…
This morning while I was at the gym, DMX’s “What These B*tches Want” came on. I’ve heard this song countless times over the years but today was the 1st time that I actually realized that the answer to Earl’s question is right there in the song itself.
2.) For you to eat off the plate like them other niggas do
3.) To not be fucked with from a distance
4.) To not be called hoes
5.) To not have our shit stolen by you the instant we start catching feelings
6.) For you to not then disappear on us like a thief in the night
7.) For you to stop sinking your teeth into/biting us
8.) For you to stop listing all the shit that you’ve done for/given us
9.) For you to not recite the laundry list of all the other women that you’ve been with…it’s really gross. You’re keeping it TOO real.
10.) For you to continue treating us fairly
11.) For you to stop name dropping…nobody’s really checkin for Dru Hill like that
12.) For you to stop telling your corny jokes & getting mad when we don’t laugh at them
13.) For you to stop trying to creep with our best friend so that you can put it in & dig deep
14.) For you to keep buying us jewelry :)
You do realize that you named off 46 women (including the 3 Kim’s), right? But suddenly you’re concerned about your wife & your life being jeopardized when one of them wants more than a 1 night thing? Your priorities are soooo backwards. You better hope Sisqo has an extra air mattress that you can lay on cuz you’re gonna need it after your wife hears this shit.
Last night I, like many of you watched in both horror & delight as R&B singer Miguel attempted & failed to complete a long jump over a packed mosh pit during the Billboard Music Awards. In case you missed it, watch this clip:
Notice as the girl on the right with the brown hair disappears into nothingness after her glasses are kicked clean off her face.
Within minutes, memes were created:
Then late last night Miguel tweeted:
The problem I have with Miguel blaming rock & roll for this failed summer Olympic track & field event is that Miguel is NOT a rocker. He’s an R&B singer. Rock & roll isn’t something that you can put on & take off like a costume whenever it’s convenient for you. You can’t be an R&B singer today and a rocker tomorrow and an astronaut on Thursday and a dentist on Saturday and a pediatrician next Tuesday. I feel like he took Barbie literally when she said “We girls can do anything.” You don’t see Keith Richards wearing a cowboy hat. You won’t see Steven Tyler hitting his Dougie. Dave Navarro isn’t walking around dressed like a mariachi. You know why? Cuz they’re rockers from the moment they wake up in the morning until they go to sleep at night. They don’t just decide one morning to be a country singer or a rapper. Navarro doesn’t grito on stage. Come on! Maybe Miguel saw some old footage of some rocker jumping over a crowd & that plus the fact that he was in Vegas inspired him to pay homage to Evel Knievel. I’m also pretty sure that whoever he saw doing this was on A LOT of drugs. At any rate, Miguel…hun. Your “Rock & Roll Stunt Queen Barbie” days are over. Please stick to keeping your feet on the ground. Have a seat & sing us a tune. I hear Boyz II Men has an extra stool that’s not being used.
Black privilege is not having non-black people know what you’re thinking.
People of color (especially ones who have found success and reached higher levels of socio-economic status) have evolved into social chameleons. They play “the role” better than any other minority group. People at the office have no idea that you spend your weekends cursing like a sailor, etc.
Hi. My name is Christine. And I'm a "damaged bitch."
I’ve been on Twitter for 4 years now. My Twitterversary was just this past week. In my 4 years on Twitter, I’ve met some really cool people. I’ve come across a few no so cool ones too. The positive experiences have definitely outweighed the negative.
Something weird happened tonight and I’ve been trying to understand it. That’s kinda how my brain works. I often try to make sense out of shit that doesn’t make any sense & end up driving myself crazy. Like this situation…
I wasn’t on Twitter much Friday. I had several little projects that I was working on at home. I can easily lose track of 3 entire hours tweeting. So I decided to spend most of the day running errands, shopping & organizing my apartment. I decided to take a little break so I hopped on Twitter for a few minutes around 10:00 pm and tweeted some nonsense, replied to a few things that I saw on my TL, etc. There’s this guy that I follow & he follows me too. I don’t even know his real name. I’m pretty sure it’s in his bio but honestly, knowing it hasn’t been on my list of priorities. A few weeks ago he asked me if he could send me a copy of his book to preview & I said sure but I never read it because I just didn’t have the time. Sometime after that, we exchanged a few DM’s. He started asking me a bunch of questions and I didn’t feel like answering them so I never responded. Aside from that, we haven’t had any communication outside of the timeline. Anyway, so I saw him tweet the word “Substance.” I wasn’t sure what he was talking about. But me being the smart ass that I am added “Abuse” to it. So he replies “I love you, Steen. lol” About 20 minutes later, I get a DM from him. This is how the exchange went:
Him: I hate you with all of my heart.
Him: Lovely. Please text me. (xxx) xxx-xxxx (I removed the # to protect his privacy)
Him: It means text me, woman.
Him: Text me a text message. Or call me. lol I want to talk to you.
(At this point I’m looking at my phone like WTF?)
Me: Do you think you’re being charming or something right now?
Him: I don’t think anything. I’m being me. Which is all I can be.
Him: I can give a shit about being charming. I present me.
Me: Oh. Well I don’t like it.
Him: I’m sorry. It’s nothing in my control. I know I’m very good with learning a woman, and adjusting. But until then, I’m not good at faking.
Him: I don’t know you.
Him: But all I want to do is get to know you right now. Please.
(At this point, I clicked on his name, went to his profile, and reported him as spam.)
So…I sat there for a minute. I reread the DM’s. I thought maybe I was trippin. So I shared them with a male friend. I told him that this dude just tried to bully me out of my phone #. He laughed at the exchange (I sent him screencaps) and said that dude was weird. *whew* I’m not trippin. Sometimes you need confirmation. I just couldn’t understand why someone that I’ve only ever DM’ed once before EVER felt comfortable enough to come at me like that. (On March 20th he DM’ed me & said “You should call me before you write me off, old-head.” I was so offended I didn’t even dignify that with a response. You really think I want to talk to you after you just insulted me? Fuck outta here.)
So here’s the part that really has me blown right now: I’m guessing he tried to send me another DM & discovered that he’d been blocked so he proceeded to tweet some nonsensical bullshit that ended with this tweet:
“Damaged Bitches. ««”
So now I’m a “damaged bitch” when just ONE HOUR ago you were tweeting me that you loved me & just one hour ago you were in my DM’s practically begging me to call you or text you? What the fuck is wrong with niggas? I’m a lot of things, but a damaged bitch isn’t one of them. I’m a sister, and a daughter and a friend. I’m a savvy businesswoman. I’m a baker. I’m thoughtful. I’m charitable. I’m compassionate. I’m smart. I’m funny. And I’m happy. But I’m NOT damaged. And I’m NOT a bitch. I also know a crazy nigga when I see one. The way he reacted is EXACTLY the reason why I blocked him. Instead of insulting me and calling me a damaged bitch, maybe take a look at your own actions & your horrible approach & that might help you figure out why you’re a 28 year old divorced man who is getting blocked by women on Twitter on a Friday night. Perhaps YOU are the problem. If I’m damaged now, was I damaged an hour ago? Why were you trynna get my damaged old ass to call you? This reminds me of those niggas in the club that will ask you to dance & will call you all kinds of bitches if you say no. Pride is a motherfucker. If this is how he handles rejection online, I’d seriously hate to see how he handles rejection in the real world.
Seek professional help. And don’t subtweet me again. I’ll air you out next time. Crazy motherfucker.
Thank you all SO much for your overwhelming response to Steen’s Cookies being back. I’m currently wrapping up the last 22 orders (38 dozen more cookies to mix, bake & ship!) so I appreciate everyone’s patience as I painstakingly prepare each order for shipment.
I’m not taking any more orders at this time so that I can focus on my existing orders. I will be taking a few days off after I am caught up and will return in about a week or so.
Thanks again for the love. I look forward to your feedback & pics!
Once upon a time, I used to give stuff away. Then I got busy & stopped. Well…I’m still busy but whatever. ANYWAY, I’m giving something away dammit. It’s a “Targus Dual Charger for iPad.” You can charge 2 devices at once. "Dual 2.1-amp ports allow you to simultanousely charge two devices, even 2 iPads, at the same damn time." (Ok, so I added damn.)
-Included charge/sync cable can be used separately
-Charge other USB charged devices using your own USB cables
Made for: iPod touch (2nd-4th generation), iPod classic, iPod nano (4th-6th generation), iPhone 3G, 3GS & 4, iPad, (and other USB charged devices, cable not included.)
It’s brand new in the box. Never been opened or used. So if you want it, all you have to do is LIKE this post. DASS IT! I will select 1 winner tonight if I’m not too drunk. Otherwise I’ll select a winner in the morning. Winner will be announced via another Tumblr post so check back tomorrow to see if you won. If the winner doesn’t claim the prize within 24 hrs, another winner will be selected.
Well…temporarily. So many regulars have been missing their favorite Steen’s Cookies flavors while others never got a chance to try them. So this weekend I will be back in the kitchen. But there’s a catch.
I will only have 10 dozen cookies available in the following flavors:
The title immediately grabbed my attention: "Why You Should Not Wait For A Clear Vision Before You Move Forward." Without even reading it, I was immediately reminded of how I jumped feet first into my cookie business just 2 years ago without a clear vision and through hard work & trial and error embarked on one of the most incredible journeys of my life. So I was like “Yessss! I’m here for this!” and started reading.
"Whenever I’m speaking to entrepreneurs—whether they are around the country or around the world—I’m always asked to share my now famous “ATM Story”. It’s one I kept close to the vest for years, because I was too embarrassed to reveal it. But today, I know it’s important to share."
You’ve got my attention, Ali! I’m always here for a good rags to riches story! So I’m all like “Oooh…a ‘famous’ ATM story. Folks ask for it by name. This has GOT to be good. I can’t wait to get into these pearls of wisdom!”
Mmmhmmm…went to the ATM. Mmmmhmm…only had $18 in the acct. Been there girl! Can’t go to happy hour. LOL! Been there too! Called your girls up. Yup! They probably even offered to pay for you & you didn’t wanna be a burden so you just said you had cramps or something. Waaait. That’s it? *looks for a link that says “Read More”* *doesn’t find link* WTF ALI!!! What makes this story so inspirational? She had $18 in her acct and now she’s on a beach in CA. Ok, and? I was really hoping she’d say "…and to this day, I carry that tattered receipt in my wallet as a constant reminder of where I came from." or “That receipt hangs in a frame on the wall of my big fancy ass office over my baller ass desk which faces a big window overlooking the Pacific Ocean & I watch dolphins do bellyflops all day.” But NOOOO. She just had $18 in her acct and couldn’t go have drinks with Samantha & Miranda. Girl bye.
I’ve had $18 in my acct. And you know what I did? I found the credit union ATM’s that dispensed $5 bills (and wouldn’t charge me that pesky fee) and went and proudly withdrew $15 and got my life. Or I took my black ass to the store, bought a pack of gum for 99 cents and got $10 cash back. No fees! I’ve also had $18 in my acct and deposited $2 cash and withdrew a $20. Cry me an ocean of tears with albino belly flopping dolphins in it. Many of us have struggled. Some of are STILL struggling. This story was so raggedy. Ugh!
I’m not sure what I’m being prepared for, but I hope it’s something great. I believe that it is. It has to be. This faith keeps me sane. Funny thing about faith is once you question it, it ceases to be faith. So I revel in my ability to not question why the things that are happening are happening. I acquired this ability back in 2009 when I lost my job. During the course of about 2 weeks, life as I knew it changed forever. That one event set so many things in motion. It was a painful time, but I wouldn’t give it back if I could. During that time I added faith & yoga to my life. Those 2 things saved me. So now I believe that everything happens for a reason and that reason may not be clear now but it will be later.
I can’t begin to count how many times I’ve repeated that last sentence in my head. It’s on a loop. It’s constantly playing in the background. It’s always there. On good days it’s there reminding me to relish in this great moment. I laugh a little louder. And dance a little harder. I actually stop when I see a rose & smell it, just to say that I did. On bad days it’s there reminding me that more good days will come, and that without the bad I wouldn’t be able to measure the good.
But it’s so hard not to ask why when people seem to be coming in & out of my life more & more frequently. Some stay longer than others. Some stay long enough to get their fill. Others are gone just as fast as they came.
I can’t help but to wonder if it was good for them. If they think about me. If my obnoxious laugh haunts them. If they remember the good times we had. The laughs that brought us to tears & left us with sore cheeks. The delicious food that we ate. The glasses that never stayed empty for long. Those late night heart to heart conversations when we shared intimate details of our lives. When we talked about dreams. When we talked about our fears. When we talked about our families. When we bared our souls. When we were each other’s beacon during dark moments in our lives. When we weren’t afraid to be human together. The comfort that came from beautiful connections that I thought would last until we were old, that warmed me from the inside out like hot chocolate on a cold day.
I always want them to stay. But they don’t. They never do.
Sometimes I dream that I can share my view of the world with you like a web conference, beyond my desktop, where the best I can do is an excel window and a scatter-chart trend change in aggregate and enumerated happiness plotted against instances of our interactions.