Gabriel Arana
Journalist, Editor
Why We Still Need GLAAD
The swift advance of gay rights raises an existential question for the movement: Are we done once the most privileged among us get what we want?
My latest at The American Prospect.
My husband and I both chose careers in so-called creative professions—he in architecture, I in magazines. Both are fields in which the prestige often outstrips the financial rewards, but for years that was fine by me. Beyond the fact of having a paycheck, I’d never really thought it mattered how much I actually brought home. Instead, every major career decision I made I’d decided with my heart, not my bank account. My first job, at a nonprofit, paid $23,000 a year. When I decided to pursue journalism, I got a job at a glossy financial magazine, but a year and a half later, I happily left it to work at my favorite publication, accepting a $31,000 salary—and a $20,000 pay cut in the process. Four-plus years passed, and, at 30, I still hadn’t closed the gap on those lost wages. Still, I had no doubt that I’d made the right decision. I loved the work and my colleagues, and I thought of my relative poverty as the price I had to pay. As a friend said of her own professional choices, “I cared about career success. I didn’t care about security.” But then something began to shift …
Genevieve Smith, “I’m For Sale,” Elle
h/t Longform (via gracebello)
Nina Simone getting ready in a motel room in Buffalo, New York. December 1964. Photo by Alfred Wertheimer.
I believe strongly in high and low brow, serious and funny–marrying them–not only reach more people but to have a greater impact. I think people who use GIFs most successfully are using them that way. But really when you ask, What is a GIF?, it’s essentially a punch line.
Ann Friedman talks to Publishing Perspectives about GIFs and the art of self-promotion.
(via annfriedman)
Because marrying high- and low-brow is my jayumm
The real pain begins only after you’ve conquered Heartbreak Hill, run downhill, and arrived at the flat part of the course, in the city streets. You’re through the worst, and you can head straight for the finish line—and suddenly your body starts to scream. Your muscles cramp, and your legs feel like lead. At least that’s what I’ve experienced every time I’ve run the Boston Marathon.
Emotional scars may be similar. In a sense, the real pain begins only after some time has passed, after you’ve overcome the initial shock and things have begun to settle. …
![Nancy Scola [blog and such] by nancyscola](http://24.media.tumblr.com/avatar_8ae308e1501d_24.png){kind=avatar}
