Watching the Brie Train: Douglas Family Gold

It's an established fact that I like gymnastics, and I love reality TV. So you can bet when there is overlap I'll be watching. Enter Douglas Family Gold. douglas-family-goldOxygen aired the six episode (30 minutes each) series beginning in May 2016, though the action all takes place in 2015 as Gabrielle Douglas (aka Gabby/Brie), reigning Olympic All-Around Gold Medalist, begins her comeback to make the 2016 Rio Olympic Games.

There isn't a lot of gymnastics in the show, but there is a lot of [manufactured] drama. Save for one instance, the real drama remained behind the scenes.

When the show starts there is nary a mention/discussion of why Gabby is in Ohio and her family is in Los Angeles. Anyone who casually followed the London Games knows that Gabby, a Virginia native, moved to Iowa to train-- a move away from her natal family into the home of another family, but which ultimately helped her secure Olympic gold. So why Ohio and not Iowa? Why a coach in Ohio then and not California? The silence is deafening. (In fact in 2013 and 2014 she did return to Iowa, but lawyers/agents/family got involved, which is what led her to Ohio...)

Another drama that didn't make the show was injury (though some might question if it is even a "real" drama). According to Douglas' momager, Natalie Hawkins, in a statement this month after the Olympic team was named, Gabby actually competed with a knee injury in the World Championships shown in the penultimate episode of Douglas Family Gold. It is an odd omission and in an article right after the revelation was made, Gabby's reaction is telling: "'Mom, really?' Douglas burst out when asked about a previously undisclosed right knee injury the gymnast suffered just before the 2015 World Championships....Hawkins, wearing her daughter's diamond-studded Team USA necklace, added that Karolyi also knew the issues surrounding the coaching changes since a comeback 21/2 years ago."

These lines reveal the real underlying drama in the Douglas family: that the family of six (four children and Hawkins, plus Hawkins' mother) appear to be fully supported by Gabrielle's gymnastics career and the promotional opportunities surrounding it. Again, telling lines from a recent article, this one from The New York Times: "But the turmoil in the gym was soon matched by new distractions outside it. Finally training in one spot at Buckeye, Douglas chipped at her focus anew last year when she was featured on a reality program called 'Douglas Family Gold,' taping the six episodes at a time when most of her United States Olympic rivals were focused solely on training. Douglas’s mother and business manager, Natalie Hawkins, who is in charge of what can loosely be described as Gabby Inc., said that the show fit seamlessly into Douglas’s days, and that it actually helped Douglas relax. Hawkins said last week that she was hoping the show would be awarded a second season."

On the one hand it's not surprising that "Gabby Inc" exists, or that her sisters in particular are on what I would call the "Brie Train." This is common enough in the sports and entertainment industries (think Entourage). This is also quite common with child performers of all stripes (think Britney Spears and Alana Thompson, aka Honey Boo Boo). And at least her sisters appear to be working, helping design leotards in the hopes of parlaying that into other design opportunities, even if that work is based on their sister's individual success.

What is different in Douglas Family Gold is the age of the athlete; though she is now of age, when all this began Douglas was a minor. It is also important to note that this sort of scenario impacts young females much more than young males, partly because of differences in onset of puberty. Of course, this is an old story in gymnastics (read Little Girls in Pretty Boxes for more on commercialism and cashing in on young athletes), but worth noting. This reality show reveals that this scenario crosses racial boundaries as well.

Another difference is that with young performers there are multiple opportunities to "make it"/excel. For Olympic cycle athletes there is basically one big shot to make it. A lot of pressure on small shoulders, however muscled they may be. Minor performers' earnings are partially protected by Coogan laws (check out some of my previous writings on this here), but no such protection is in effect for young athletes.

To get a better handle on the family dynamics I turned to two different books Douglas "wrote" in 2013, both published by a Christian house. The first, more complete version is Grace, Gold & Glory, and the second, Raising the Bar, contains most the same material, but it is abridged with a lot of photos, primarily for kids. Both books notably focus on the positive relationship with the Parton family in Iowa, and Douglas' then gymnastics coaches. Again, a notable disconnect from the reality series.

But I was shocked by how Douglas portrayed her childhood and family. The former book, Grace, God & Glory describes what was likely parental neglect when Douglas was an infant, living in the back of a van at 2.5 months with an untreated medical condition (Branched Chain Ketoaciduria, or maple syrup urine disease). A particularly revelatory line Douglas "writes" on page 11 of the same book hints at the reason her sisters might expect to be on the Brie train: “I thought of my two sisters: Arielle, who gave up ballroom dancing, and Joyelle, who stopped ice skating so that our single mom could afford to keep me in gymnastics.”

I am sure it is uncomfortable to feel indebted. And the moment of cringeworthy drama in Douglas Family Gold is when eldest sister Arie tells Brie that her own life isn't where it should be because she has spent so much time supporting her sister. This is again mentioned in the Elle article linked to above. And most news stories from the last cycle identified this sister as the one who got her sister started with gymnastics. So, yeah, some interesting dynamics there.

The latter book, Raising the Bar, hints at the Douglas family's interest in a TV show, way back in 2012-3. On page 17 in social media image grabs two family members comment that the family is a comedy show and that they need their own show.

They have that show now, but I'm not sure how funny it actually is. You'll likely just be uncomfortable,and wondering what is actually going on in this family behind the doors of their now 7000+ square foot California compound.

Update to my Psychology Today piece: No More Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polkadot Bikinis

Yesterday on the heels of the Miss Teen USA decision to drop swimsuit and replace it with fitness wear (unclear if that will include a fitness routine or just the attire) I published a piece at Psychology Today. You can read the full version of that by clicking here. Two of the photos I included though had to be removed due to copyright issues on the page. So I wanted to include them here in case you came a-searching.

  1. When I wrote, "In 2014 the contestants competed in shorts, which revealed far more skin, and tighter tops, which left little to the imagination even without revealing the midriff," the following picture should have appeared:

    Alysse Blight (center) performs in the fitness portion of the Distinguished Young Women of America National Scholarship Program contest.

    You can find this photo at the following URL, where there isn't an attribution for a photographer: http://thenewsherald.com/articles/2014/07/13/news/doc53bed9fc3400a318794241.txt

  2. When I wrote, "And you'd be excused if you thought Miss America's Outstanding Teen contestants' fitness outfits closely resembled a bikini—at least one with boy shorts. Note that Miss Teen Frisco, Madison Fuller, went on to be crowned Texas' Outstanding Teen in 2010. So her pseudo-itsy bitsy teenie weenie pink polkadot bikini served her well..." the following photo should have appeared:Madison_Fuller_Fitness_WinYou can find this photo at the following URL, again no attribution, if you scroll down to 2010: http://www.mpfo.com/whatsnew.htm

Interestingly, this same young lady, Madison Fuller, just *last night* at Miss Texas won the preliminary Lifestyle and Fitness award-- aka swimsuit!

13529138_709017905902688_6199839968889593676_n(Image from the Miss Texas Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/MissTexasPageantInc/photos/a.269209253216891.1073741828.268939479910535/709017905902688/?type=3&theater)

Goodbye Stranger and Girls & Sex: One way to navigate the complicated new landscape

So far this year-- almost halfway through-- I have a clear favorite fiction book (Goodbye Stranger by Rebecca Stead) and a clear favorite nonfiction book (Girls & Sex by Peggy Orenstein). And, in my opinion, they are really in conversation with one another; though I'm not sure anyone has made this connection before. Goodbye StrangerIn her Introduction Orenstein writes, “When so much has changed for girls in the public realm, why hasn’t more—much more—changed in the private one? Can there be true equality in the classroom and the boardroom if there isn’t in the bedroom?” With Hillary Clinton securing the nomination for president (#hillyes) it's fascinating to consider this given what we know of her history... And if we know this it's inevitable that young women and girls will as well. So, how do we address these issues?

As I learned when I was writing this review piece about puberty for Brain, Child, books are a great way for parents to discuss sex and sexuality with their kids. Both can read the same book and then discuss, which helps because it is not about *your child* precisely. Furthermore, I learned that it's always useful to be doing something where you don't have to make eye contact while chatting (think driving or walking) when tackling these issues.

Putting all this together I recommend that parents read Orenstein's book (my full review in The Providence Journal available here); if you are short on time concentrate on Chapter 1. One sentence that you should be sure stays with you as you navigate this terrain in your life is:  “That’s the challenge to both parents and girls themselves: whether you’re discussing dress codes, social media, or the influence of pop culture, there is rarely a clear-cut truth.” (24)

Stead's book shows how this plays out in real life for some boys and girls, especially when it comes to the "sext." The book tackles friendships, romance, technology, family dynamics, and more, without being sensational. One of things I liked most was its verisimilitude-- it felt like this is probably what happens annually for thousands of American teens. When I read how one of the character's explanation that she liked that she felt good about her body, I couldn't help but be reminded of Orenstein's book, but also her caution that looking good isn't a feeling. 

I love the bridge between fiction and nonfiction here and hope some find this connection between two amazing recent books useful!

In the Room Where It Happens: Hamilton and (Cultural) Capital

Last fall I literally bought into the hype and got the Hamilton soundtrack. Predictably (as a musical theater fan, history-loving nerd, and aspiring wordsmith), I fell in love. This was not out of character. For instance, last century, I bought the Rent soundtrack and knew every word long before I ever saw it live. I can recite most every line of A Chorus Line (show and movie), Cats, Ragtime, the list goes on. I am an equal opportunity Broadway-lover, from Phantom to Drowsy Chaperone to In the Heights and Book of Mormon.

But Hamilton is different for many of the reasons others have already written about. It has more words (and I would argue they are smart, clever, and entertaining like a naughtier adult version of a Pixar movie), it has more diversity, and it has more outreach (especially to underserved high school students).

Even with all that, the underlying inequality in America today remains-- though perhaps this is merely a reflection of the world Alexander Hamilton helped to create, as demonstrated in the musical itself.

A few weeks ago I got to see the Broadway production, billed as one of the hottest tickets, well, anywhere these days. How did I do this? I made use of my social networks, calling in some social capital (from my nerdy musical theater high school days, which I hope one day I can repay). And while the coveted tickets were less expensive than the priciest tickets available (and certainly less than what you would pay a scalper), they were still a pretty penny, in addition to the cost of train tickets and a hotel room (luckily no babysitter as my in-laws stayed with the boys for a night).

Before the show, I snapped a shot of the Richard Rodgers on my phone to post to my Facebook and Instagram accounts-- as I do for most events I deem vaguely momentous (and even those less celebratory and more miserable, like the current cases of hand-foot-mouth in my household). As I got ready to post a collage of the theater pic and my tickets, I paused, struck by the idea that not only did I deploy some serious financial and social capital to make this happen, but displaying it was perhaps one of the highest (if not the highest) forms of cultural capital in my segment of America today. This digital display of something as symbolic as a ticket (merely a piece of paper) is at heart just a form of conspicuous consumption that Veblen couldn't quite have imagined, but certainly would recognize.

IMG_4845Now, there's the seeing Hamilton, then there's the sharing that you have seen it. Then, when others hear/read that you have seen it another hierarchy-imposing question follows: Did you have any understudies? For which character?

IMG_4873

In this Sunday's New York Times Magazine (oh, hello there again, cultural capital) there is an article about Hamilton's producer, Jeffrey Seller (in an odd twist turns out we are both from the suburbs of Detroit, something I will have to ponder another time). In it Michael Sokolove (another odd twist, just last week I taught another NYT Magazine piece he wrote, about Allonzo Trier, and I discuss his book, Warrior Girls: Protecting Our Daughters Against the Injury Epidemic in Women's Sports in Playing to Win) describes Seller's advertising campaign for Hamilton:

In January, Seller bought a “takeover” of Penn Station — the building’s walls and even stairways were blanketed with the black-and-gold logo for the show. It was pure iconography. Nothing about dates, how to get tickets or the names of the lead actors. Just the logo and the words “Hamilton An American Musical.” Almost no one, of course, could buy the product. Seller was paying to advertise an aspiration.

Aspirational, indeed.

Even before I read the Sokolove profile of Seller I was making Rent comparisons in my mind (not least because seated one row up from me at Hamilton was Idina Menzel, who originated the role of Maureen-- and, by the way, in terms of the hierarchy she got special in-theater treatment, with someone bringing her and her guest iced bottle of waters, natch). When Rent started its run people would sleep on the sidewalk in order to qualify for the lottery. Turns out Seller invented the rush ticket and lottery policies on Broadway.

And the lottery/rush experience is a big part of the Hamilton narrative as well. When I left the show on a Friday night around 11 pm, people were already in line to buy cancelled tickets for Saturday's shows. In this way, the cheap lottery tickets to get a *front row seat* mirrors the underlying social divisions Hamilton brings into relief. If you don't have the various forms of capital to get in, you can try your luck some other way to try to make it to the top.

At the same time though Hamilton and Rent have something else very important in common. At heart both shows are political, and they are historical. Hamilton and Rent are about young people looking to transform the world, through words and other personal creations. More people getting access to bear witness to that is a great thing, and the political messages clearly play a role in making the musicals resonate with a broader audience.

But let's not forget the display aspect as well for those who want to be in the room where it happens (self-indictment noted)...

[My only minor Hamilton criticism is that for some reason in the live version I expected some current political innuendo, like a Trump joke in a rap battle-- like one of all-time favorite and underrated Broadway musicals, The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee.]

Fantastic Lies and TRex: Documentaries and Sports in American Society

Wow, I haven't blogged in three months. Why? Most of my time has been taken up by the course I am teaching this semester, a large lecture class at Brown called Sports in American Society.

[It's not that I haven't been writing at all. I've published several book reviews in some of my usual outlets like Brain, Child and The Providence Journal.]

Basically if I'm not in class lecturing or leading discussing, I'm preparing to lecture or lead discussion, or meeting with students, or re-doing the course reading, or re-watching the course documentaries... And, yes, even reading/watching to tweak things for next year's iteration of the course.

In that vein I've recently seen two powerful documentaries that are each so good I just had to write about them. And if you plan to take my class next spring, know you will be watching them (one is so good it just might even make an appearance this semester).

  1. T-Rex

This is the story of Claressa Shields, a teenager from Flint, Michigan (yes, that Flint) as she struggles to make the 2012 Olympic team in women's boxing-- the first year women's boxing was ever offered at the Olympics.

I was lucky enough to get to see this at the Providence Children's Film Festival, where the Producer, Sue Jaye Johnson, spoke to audience members following the screening.

Claressa, who started boxing at 11, is a compelling character, so she plays a huge role in making the film work. But she is also surrounding by a compelling cast of characters (sister, parents, boyfriend, and most significantly, her coach and his family) who make the work sing. Their personalities combined with the long history of boxing and its connections to social mobility in this country (ok, yes, and also with violence) make this a film that will resonate within the sports community.

But T-Rex goes a step further in terms of linking Shields' story to issues of inequality, race, gender and universally admired themes like determination, hard work, and perseverance. For those reasons I not only want to assign it to students in my course next year, where we look precisely at sports through the lenses of race, gender, and history, but I suspect that when T-Rex is released on Netflix this summer it will make waves.

Not to mention that Shields' expected Olympic performance should help. She's already getting early press in NBC's Rio promos and it will be most interesting to see if endorsements ever come through for her, a la Gabby Douglas. At least this Olympic cycle, unlike last, there aren't any silly calls to have female boxers wear skirts (which I previously blogged about in my now defunct blog series Shrinking and Pinking).

2. Fantastic Lies

Fantastic Lies is the latest installment in ESPN's worthy series, 30 for 30. But Fantastic Lies takes it to another level as this documentary, directed by Marina Zenovich, is truly compelling. The pace, the presentation of evidence, the way the interviews are woven together combine to leave the viewer thinking, questioning, and, in my case, feeling gobsmacked at the end (particularly when it came to the updates on individuals involved with the scandal).

I think the only suggestion I would have made is that I wish they had covered a bit more about the history of lacrosse in North America, especially its Native roots, and how that relates and doesn't to its contemporary prep school links-- and how the Duke situation halted or helped the growth of lacrosse, acknowledged today as one of the fastest growing organized sports in the U.S.

In terms of how it relates to my course this quote about sums it up:

A former public editor for The New York Times explained why the Duke Lacrosse case was the perfect media storm.

I would add to this that it was a sport, an elite one at that, at a highly selective institution, which amplified things even more. Sports reflect, refract, transform, and multiply larger society and subcultures with which they are associated, as this documentary so eloquently shows. Look, you only need to check out all the memes last weekend from the Duke-Yale basketball game to see that these stereotypes remain unbelievably powerful.

So I'm hoping to show Fantastic Lies the last week of the semester, especially because one of the accused, Reade Seligmann, ended up transferring to Brown.

Stay tuned!