We’ll all get through it together I promise.
Working as I do in a lovely small company where we publish children’s comics and work so primarily with the book trade that it took a year for me to finally get my Diamond rep to stop reminding me comics come out on Wednesdays like I didn’t know, I sometimes forget that the whole “boys club” thing exists regarding women working in comics. I am largely shielded from it in my very specific and very operational position. I’d be willing to bet many of the type of person who feels women don’t belong in comics probably don’t even know what a production coordinator does. It’s not a “sexy” comics job, but it’s mine.
But getting back on point, sometimes I forget that there are people in my industry who do not welcome me here: And then I take a look at the nominations for the Harveys, and I remember.
Honestly, it’s not a thing I’m entirely in love with carrying around with me as we head into SDCC, a week most comics pros will, I think, agree is tougher than it looks without being reminded that people think you don’t belong there.
The Harveys award committee makes a pretty big deal about the fact that it’s the only comics award that’s nominated solely by other comics professionals. As such it’s an inherently flawed system, obviously. But looking at the final list of nominations it was also, for me, a pretty good reminder of how little women are still being considered in the industry.
Have we made strides? Of course. Is this list to be taken as the absolute temperature for the industry? Of course not. Do the women who ARE on that list deserve to be there? ABSOLUTELY. Do the men? ABSOLUTELY AS WELL.
But I don’t think it would have killed any of us if when we took a look at the ballot ostensibly chosen by a group of our peers, we feel like we we’re a little more clearly considered peers.
That’s all. That’s my thing. Look, I said it and we all survived.
I’m okay with that.
I feel that is better than being full of other people.