Juan Riordon "Kindness is a Muscle" Op-Ed
Creating a safe space in the gym is not an open objection to the hardcore lifting lifestyle. Experienced gym goers detest the idea of beginners in the gym and create a hostile environment towards them. This is a fundamentally flawed and shallow perspective because respecting someone for their experience and disrespecting someone for their inexperience segments the community and discourages growth. Instead, we should try to accept all performance levels and use beginners to improve the culture, and remember where we started. The start of a new year has a negative connotation in the fitness industry because there is a rapid influx of beginners. Experienced gym goers get upset because the increased number of people will lead to crowded workout areas, interrupted gym sessions, and novices causing problems and mistreating equipment. There is a large subset of fitness social media users who often voice their issues with novices in the gym. These influencers who choose to criticize beginners are deeply tied to an inferiority complex within the gym because any successful fitness celebrity will always be willing to share their knowledge. Hostility within the fitness community towards beginners is seen as a taboo subject because many implement it as a rite of passage to be overly negative towards beginners as a form of hazing. I argue that your physical strength is directly tied to your emotional status, and there is always someone bigger than you who is much more compassionate.
West Side Barbell in Columbus, Ohio, is an over-the-top hardcore aesthetic gym that many people hold in high regard as a legendary era of fitness that pioneered this no excuses style of training that has begun to slowly poison local and commercial gym environments. They also invented much of the modern equipment seen throughout gyms in America. Rogue Fitness and West Side Barbell had owners who were very collaborative and famously created a hazing system that included dangerous workouts and invitation-only gyms to exclude people who were seen as “not strong enough” to enter their gym. Notably, a majority of these people who were deemed not strong enough to enter were women, though there were a few exceptions. An industry that is experiencing a boom like the fitness industry has come to a crossroads where a toxic environment that mocks a lack of strength and uses social media to mock the ignorance of beginners towards the nuances and unspoken rules of a gym has become standard. A lot of fitness enthusiasts are open about their dislike of beginners because they feel as if they are always in the wrong place or are inconvenienced by existing in the same space. This sentiment has increased in recent years following the post-COVID boom since 2019-20. Much of this was due to a great increase in health consciousness. Kenneth Recibas reports, “As restrictions lifted, gym membership statistics reflected a strong recovery in the industry. By 2022, the U.S. fitness sector rebounded to a $40.6 billion valuation.” This strong resurgence of fitness was also accompanied by new influencers who worked to oppose the negative mindset towards beginners. The fitness industry may never be the same again, but is that so awful?
An immensely popular positive fitness influencer named Joey Sergo, or “Joey Swoll” online, was one of the biggest supporters of a positive gym community, calling out toxic posts that demonized beginners and creeps on the internet. He began a checks and balances system for those who often looked towards social media as a tool to put people on blast. However, that all came crashing down one day once it became apparent that Sergo’s mannerisms and political standing were problematic towards POC’s. This situation was a hard hit for the fitness community because Swoll’s content was something that the community could not afford to lose, and yet he was a negative example himself because racism and bigotry have no place in the gym (Pritchard). Swoll’s content made the gym feel safer for a lot of beginners because there was less anxiety of being mocked or posted online for simply trying something new. However, as this older generation begins to leave behind the public environment, there has been a new resurgence of positive social influencers. Swoll’s style of checks and balances worked in a way that would open the floodgates of negativity, where his community would use slurs and send death threats to bully them off the platform. His style of gym positivity was, on the surface, effective, but created a culture in and of itself that inspired more hostility. Now that this inclusive gym sentiment has moved on from Joey Swoll, there is less focus on the negative actions of a few individuals and instead aims to instill confidence in audiences. SheBulk, the newest of these influencers who gained traction on TikTok, has embodied the personal aspects and struggles of getting started in the gym. Her fitness journey, not knowing her own way around, has now made positive content that encourages people not to be afraid to take up space and be authentic in the gym. Her content also mocks other influencers who put out bad information, and calls diets and ED’s into question by sharing her own experiences and difficulties with eating outside of the gym and not seeing progress. Her content is for everyone, but it cannot be understated that she has become a beacon for women in the gym as she is creating a path for women to belong in a historically negative masculine space. This is important because a large factor of health and well-being relies on exercise and often can increase mood and productivity through the release of Endorphins and feelings of accomplishment, as Harvard Health states (Watson). Creating a space where the gym feels inclusive enough for anyone to start going is such an important topic.
While it is my personal belief that no influencer should be held in a super high regard, it is comforting to know that there are people out there who have similar experiences to anyone else out there who feels it is hard to start their fitness journey. SheBulk is one of many people in this new wave of young influencers who are becoming positive role models in their respective communities. She is one of many, including Sam Sulek, LeanBeefPatty, and Joy Sistina, who are constantly showing how to be authentic in the gym and open a lot of their content to beginners. This content is also opening a lot of conversations around where to start out and how to make yourself more comfortable before you even set foot in the gym for the first time. Another refreshing aspect is that this new inclusive push on social media is being supported by women who have experienced the hardships of sexism, discrimination, and harassment at the hands of a male-dominated space. They are actively using their strength through fitness and character to open a dialogue that is slowly but surely rooting out toxic masculinity. This type of content is how experienced gym goers should expect to carry themselves; strength is not only a physical trait but also a skill to be kind to others. They also get more into the diet side of fitness and how crucial it is to eat and sleep right, not just train as hard as possible in the gym. These are lessons they constantly push, which help contribute to a more friendly and long-lasting community of lifters who might feel discouraged.
While much of this change has come at the global and online levels, there is still much to be done when it comes to a local gym-to-gym basis. There are still people who use their insecurities to fuel hatred in their communities. There are still those who think their strength has given them authority. And to those who believe women do not belong in the gym, I would ask them to look at the global leaderboard (https://www.openpowerlifting.org/) and see that the strongest lifter in the world is a woman. On a local level, CU Boulder’s only national champion is a woman; no man has placed better than fourth, and their 2026 Collegiate National team is 60% women. The future of the fitness industry is no longer defined by the exclusive, "invitation-only" gatekeeping of the past, but by the diverse and growing community that now occupies these spaces. The hardcore culture of hazing and exclusion is obsolete. We must recognize that discrimination in the gym, whether it manifests as mocking a beginner’s form, occupying space in a way that intimidates others, or perpetuating systemic biases against women and people of color, has become a sign of internal weakness rather than physical prowess. True strength is not just a measurement of what you can lift, but a commitment to protecting the sanctuary of the gym for everyone who enters it. We (as experienced lifters) should choose to mentor and assist beginners and shift the "no excuses" mantra from our workout intensity to our own character. By interrupting toxic social media trends and actively welcoming those who have historically been excluded from these spaces, we can ensure that the gym remains a place of growth rather than a breeding ground for toxicity. Your greatest lift is not found on the barbell; it is the people you choose to encourage instead of discouraging.
Juan Riordon "The Importance of Representation in Film"
What the hell does Quentin Tarantino know about slavery? That was one of the main takeaways from my second viewing of Django Unchained. There is a real issue behind Django Unchained's remarkable commercial and critical success. I take issue with it because, outside of black scholars, nobody really seems to understand that a film with such dense black history should not be coming from a white movie director. I believe more people should feel uncomfortable with holding such a movie in high regard, and instead, we should celebrate black art that elevates the black experience by enabling a black director. A movie that uses black issues in a healthy way that opens conversations instead of wallets is Moonlight, which is not the product of a bloated message that becomes diluted through white privilege like Django Unchained. However, it comes as no surprise that Jamie Foxx’s landmark role would be in a Western/Action movie; his demeanor and facial expressions elevated this movie to epic and exciting levels. The movie had a sense of scale, and the performances were natural; there were real stakes and grounded moments within the film that were not anticipated from the marketing. Django was released in Q4 of 2012, and with a lot of other drama/action movies slated at the same time, this one had a unique appeal in that it was elevating a black actor over the likes of Leonardo DiCaprio and Christoph Waltz (IMDb). It also addressed and centered the topic of slavery and racial hierarchy within the film.
Django Unchained also depicted many historical inaccuracies that the white hegemony would like to repeal, like that of the fetishization of black women, the horrors of the slave fighting and slave trading network, and the empowering identity of black cowboys. These are all very real parts of history that deserve visibility, but at the cost of being reproduced by a white Director, it loses some of its tasteful empowering qualities. For that matter, the entire storyline, however plausible it is, falls short because of the underlying white savior narrative that is ever-present in the film. Even at the end, where Tarantino intends to use it as a grand moment to ride away from the plantation in flames, it is still marred by the doctor’s sacrifice, which gave Django and his wife autonomy in the first place. This excerpt from a short article puts it best: “After all, what better way to disengage from continued nuisances of racism, patriarchy, and exploitation culturally than by offering a token black male superhero who exists in a vacuum and white characters that are so comical that no white American today could relate to them” (Salami). The film’s topic addresses real back issues, but does not elevate or evoke emotion within the retelling of these stories because the director does not get it. The film does not stand in its own way because of the script or controversy, but rather its message is subdued because of who decided to make it. The film is visually entertaining and critically acclaimed, but something is unsettling about how it picks and chooses its black struggles in a way that makes it theatrical instead of a device of reflection and teaching. These Hollywood blockbusters continue to prioritize theatrics instead of deep connections to the experience, which is what makes Django an unfortunate failure in its recreation of these histories because it fails to come from a place of authenticity. When addressing how film can use this plight in a constructive way, it should only mean allowing a black director to represent black stories.
A film that does accomplish this and can be better understood in contemporary spaces is Moonlight, directed by Barry Jenkins. His film surrounding black identity, sexuality, and introducing intersectionality to the film space deeply contextualizes the struggles and reality of communities underrepresented or even grossly misrepresented in the film space. Released in September of 2016, Moonlight quickly became a huge word-of-mouth film that spread throughout the community largely because of its intense filmic style and drastic color palette. The film is visually stunning in part thanks to the anamorphic lens, which is not a traditional choice for Hollywood film; it also uses a lot of character contrast, illustrated deeply with blues and pinks to show a separation of identity. Moonlight follows Chiron through three stages in his life, from adolescence to adulthood, in a way that relates to any youth or elder who may not have been represented in the past. The visual medium is easy to watch, and the soundtrack is stunning in a far more restrained sense than Django Unchained.
There is no doubt in terms of entertainment and rewatchability metrics; Django Unchained is a far more enticing movie, but Moonlight triumphs in that way. Moonlight creates a discussion relatable to a few and uncomfortable to most. This is what art is meant to be: something that evokes an emotion or creates empathy in a way that many would not want to explore or confront without the media present. Tarantino himself even seems to understand that his experiences do not align with the movie, and yet he does not step down from telling these stories. In an interview, he stated, “I'm not coming from an exploitative place. If you shoot sex like an artist, it is an artistic representation. If you shoot sex like a pornographer, then it looks like pornography.” (NPR) However, the notion that he would make gratuitous violence shares a stage with somber depictions of slavery, enabling the idea that Tarantino entirely meant to fetishize and dilute the artistic meanings of his own film and historical accuracy. Moonlight is educational and opens barriers to stories that many people would feel are too far-reaching to explore on their own. Django Unchained uses black suffering as a narrative device to create conflict and drive the story, whereas Moonlight uses it as a connection to real life and does not idolize violence.
Moonlight acquired a global audience and demonstrated the true power of the identity of black culture, whereas Quentin Tarantino uses black stories and tragedy as a tool of entertainment without fully understanding the unique historical and contemporary aspects of black identity. He also uses sexually charged brutality as a narrative element instead of how Jenkins creates a transformative piece that explores and confronts the stigma and strength it takes to pursue a livelihood in the face of adversity. These films may seem randomly picked, but they are both highly regarded as elite pieces of film that are connected by their reach to an audience that does not understand why the creation of art from marginalized groups should come from the minority, not the majority. Watching both films back in a lens centered on black representation, one story is made for the minority and the other for the majority. There is no authenticity without a shared experience for the film. Jamie Foxx’s presence seems genuine, and he no doubt helped make the film more authentic, but there is still a lingering sensation that this film would have been better off without Tarantino as a director. This is an unfortunate trait in Hollywood; they see a story, not a tragic systemic issue that remains unsolved to this day. Consuming black media created by White writers and directors is propaganda and idolization of the perfect utopia where everything works out, and there is always a hero. Mandingo fighting, buck breaking, and being placed in the hot box are all real aspects of slavery that are not thoughtfully addressed in this film or given the time to be digested. That is why even though these practices were given visibility, Django left these understated by the growing conflict Django was facing and the need to move the plot. This is why it is important to address real back issues in a way that elevates and evokes emotion within the retelling of these stories from black directors that can impact how we digest these harsh realities.
While Django Unchained offers a stylized, commercialized window into the horrors of slavery, its impact and depth are stifled by a white savior lens that prioritizes blockbuster theatrics in place of an authentic emotional resonance. By contrast, Barry Jenkins’ Moonlight demonstrates that true cinematic power lies within the shared experience of a storyteller, the culture, and the audience. Jenkins transformed black struggle into a medium for genuine empathy rather than mere entertainment. To move art beyond the limitations of a white hegemony in Hollywood, we must stop settling for historical tragedies repurposed as action movie tropes and instead actively champion more black directors who possess the cultural authority to intertwine their own histories into the art. We can do this by ensuring that stories of marginalized communities are no longer narrated by the majority but claimed by those who are directly affected by them to this day.