New Sticker Pack!
6 months ago
– Fri, Aug 06, 2021 at 05:52:14 PM
This was supposed to be a stretch goal but I decided to go ahead and add it. :)
There should now be an option to add a second sticker pack to your pledge if you would like. This pack includes:
Ming Na Wen
Let us know if you have any questions! There are six days left for this campaign. We got a little delayed in sharing full essays, I was supposed to share two...instead I will share four. Here is the first one, it's the final version of the Carrie Fisher essay by Delilah Dawson. I will also be sharing Michelle Kwan, Frida Kahlo and Marie Skłodowska Curie in the next few days.
Thank you for making this campaign such a success! :)
CARRIE FISHER – Inspire
"Carrie Fisher is best known for playing Princess Leia Organa in the Star Wars franchise, but she’s so much more than a princess in a metal bikini who strangled a giant space slug to death. In addition to acting, she was also an award-winning, bestselling author of fiction and memoirs, a screenwriter, a playwright, and a highly-paid “script doctor” whose wit and experience helped secretly improve dozens of movies, including those set in a galaxy far, far away. But her ability to inspire goes beyond her career; she inspired so many of us to embrace our true self and be more than a damsel in distress.
Both of Fisher’s parents—Eddie Fisher and Debbie Reynolds—were famous actors, so she grew up in Hollywood and was performing in nightclubs and on Broadway with her mother by the time she was 15. But despite her fame and privilege, Fisher’s life wasn’t easy. She had a complicated relationship with her family and was very open about her lifelong struggle with mental illness, including bipolar disorder and addiction. The people who knew her best described her as tough, witty, realistic, and wry but never cynical. Much like Leia Organa, she was driven by a deep well of hope. The causes she supported included women’s advocacy, animal rights, mental health, Alzheimer’s, HIV/AIDS, and LGBTQ issues. She was dedicated to ending the stigma against mental health disorders and once said, “Mothers can tell their kids when they are upset with the diagnosis that Princess Leia is bipolar, too.”
When I was a kid in the 1980s, most of the female characters we saw in the movies were girlfriends, wives, or victims—and they certainly weren’t the main characters of science fiction and fantasy stories. The first time I saw Princess Leia on the screen, I realized that I could be the hero of my own story instead of just an accessory to the plot or a sidekick to the leading man. Sure, Leia was a princess wearing a long white dress with her hair rolled up like cinnamon buns, but she was also giving orders, performing rescue missions in disguise, befriending fierce teddy bears on forest moons, and piloting speeder bikes while taking out enemies with better aim than Luke Skywalker himself. She was the first princess I ever saw who didn’t act like my preconceived notion of a princess. I wanted to be her.
And the inspiration didn’t stop there. Fisher wasn’t just a princess; she went on to do all the things I wanted to do. She wrote novels and movies and plays and wasn’t afraid to write about the dark parts of her own life. Growing up, I thought you were supposed to hide those things and pretend everything was great, but Carrie Fisher didn’t have time for that kind of make believe. She was unapologetically herself, willing to expose her greatest weaknesses and fears, knowing that it might help someone else. After all these years, she felt like a friend, a wise aunt who I knew would protect me fiercely and always cheer me on. Even though she is gone, she inspires me to be that person for the next generation.
The first time Carrie put on Princess Leia’s white outfit, George Lucas told her she couldn’t wear a bra. When she asked why, he explained that there is no underwear in Star Wars because as your body expands in space, a bra would strangle you. Carrie Fisher then wrote, “I tell my younger friends that no matter how I go, I want it reported that I drowned in moonlight, strangled by my own bra.” That’s how I like to think of her—laughing by the light of the moon, making the night a little less dark for those of us she inspired."