There’s something about Cinderella that makes me smile. At the mention of the name, I think of Gus Gus and rats that somehow became cute; Hillary Duff, Chad Michael Murray, and Stiffler’s Mom; and the men’s basketball team at the University of Dayton who stole my heart (and broke my bracket) during last year’s March Madness tournament. I also think of Brandy and Whitney Houston, and one of the best made-for-TV movies ever made. Cinderella means many things to many people, but for me, Cinderella has always been a place I called home.
Growing up in rural Indiana as a queer biracial woman, media gave me something my neighborhood could not: people who looked like me. When the TV adaptation of Roger and Hammerstein’s Cinderella premiered on my television in 1997, I fell in love with the spectrum of colors. Many different shades lit up my screen and I danced and sang along, doing my best Whitney Houston impression to the tune of “Impossible.” For the entirety of my childhood, there was a recognizable Cinderella story that was not bound by Disney’s historically white standards.
We have all types of feelings about this new Cinderella movie, but only one thing really needs to be said (on our part). We're going to let this version of Cinderella finish, but the 1997 version starring Brandy and Whitney Houston was the best (drops mic).
Courtesy of Feministing:
Welcome to Womanist Expressions, brainchild of Caitlin Gunn and Kidiocus Carroll.