The Spitboy Rule: Tales of a Xicana in a Female Punk Band

by Michelle Cruz Gonzales, Mimi Thi Nguyen (Foreword), Martin Sorrondeguy (Afterword)

Though not a riot grrl band, Spitboy blazed trails for women musicians in the San Francisco Bay Area and beyond, but it wasn’t easy. Misogyny, sexism, abusive fans, class and color blindness, and all-out racism were foes, especially for Gonzales, a Chicana and the only person of color in the band. Unlike touring rock bands before them, the unapologetically feminist Spitboy preferred Scrabble games between shows rather than sex and drugs, and they were not the angry manhaters that many expected them to be. Fully illustrated with rare photos and flyers from the punk rock underground, this fast-paced, first-person recollection is populated by scenesters and musical allies from the time including Econochrist, Paxston Quiggly, Neurosis, Los Crudos, Aaron Cometbus, Pete the Roadie, Green Day, Fugazi, and Kamala and the Karnivores.

Genres: Music, Memoir, Nonfiction, Feminism, Punk, Latinx, Queer

160 pages, Paperback

First published April 1, 2016

About the author

Michelle Cruz Gonzales, a Xicana writer, writes memoir and fiction. Born in East LA in 1969, MCG grew up in Tuolumne, a tiny California Gold Rush town. She played drums and wrote lyrics for three bands during the 1980s and 1990s, Bitch Fight, Spitboy, and Instant Girl. Spitboy, not a riot grrl band, toured extensively in the US and overseas and released several albums.

The author of The Spitboy Rule: Tales of a Xicana in a Female Punk Band, PM Press, MCG earned degrees in 2001 and 2003, in English/Creative Writing from Mills College, where she also minored in Ethnic Studies. She has been a regular contributor to Hip Mama Magazine, published by Seal Press in Book Lovers Anthology: Sexy Stories from Under the Covers , in the Listen To Your Mother Anthology on Putnam, and her story “Juan, El Pájaro” one Honorable Mention in Riversedge Literary Journal contest

Currently, MCG is at work on a satirical novel about forced intermarriage between whites and Mexicans for the purpose of creating a race of beautiful, hardworking people. She lives with her husband, son, and their three Mexican dogs in Oakland, California.

Reviews

[Michelle P · Rating 5 out of 5]

Michelle Cruz Gonzales’s memoir is a collection of stories about her time in the feminist anarcho-punk band Spitboy. While recounting these memories, Michelle articulates the classism and racism she experienced being the only Xicana in an otherwise all-white band. Like in the story “Race, Class, and Spitboy”, about the tense time her bandmates met her grandma, she highlights the discomfort that her own punk friends had in being around racial and economic difference. Many people in the SF scene were from backgrounds of white and middle class privilege and, while being able to speak about social issues in an abstract sense, weren’t talking about the realities of racism in their own community. In the preface by Mimi Thi Nguyen, of Slander zines, she writes “Reading these collected pieces, I was reminded of what I also fought as a young woman of color in the same scene - where racist cool provided camouflage for the same-old discourse of white supremacy in flimsy disguise; where racism (if discussed at all) was understood as something that the state or neo-Nazis committed, rather than something that was also with us; and where antiracism too often meant colorblindness.”

In another story, “My Body is Mine”, Michelle talks about wanting to incorporate her Xicana identity into her life and music. She starts taking Spanish classes and Spitboy names their next album “Mi Cuerpo Es Mio” - which a riot grrrl, a white woman, deems as culturally appropriative. Gonzales writes, “I was hurt, I was hurt because people didn’t really see me and that I had let it happen. People in the scene did not see me...at shows, I didn’t register as a Xicana. I was just the drummer of Spitboy, and for some reason I couldn’t be both.”

While at the same time highlighting the erasure of her Xicana identity, she includes stories about how the band supported each other in a misogynistic scene. It was also great to hear more about her relationship with Los Crudos because I love the split LP Vivendo Asperamente! I found this to be really inspiring and down-to-earth and would recommend to Spitboy fans or punk fans in general.

[Georgia · Rating 4 out of 5]

I read The Spitboy Rule in one day and found it a thoroughly satisfying memoir of a slice of Todd/Michelle Cruz Gonzales' years in a feminist punk band. Her struggle to come to terms with her many identities (Xicana, punk rock drummer, born poor in a shitty little town) is interlaced with anecdotes from tour and bits of her romantic life. Gonzales looks back on that time fondly, and with clear eyes regarding how her inner struggle manifested itself in introversion and anger. Rad photos documenting her life as a Spitwoman fill out this brief, intense document of 90s Bay Area punk rock.

I was 12 when Green Day's Dookie came out, and I spent most of my youth listening to major label punk rock. I didn't really have anybody who could steer me far beyond that, and by the time I had spending money from a grocery store job, I had moved on to tracking down early Sonic Youth and R.E.M. records. I only heard Crass' stunning feminist record Penis Envy last year. I often feel too old, or like too much of a newbie, to be going to DIY punk shows. And as a musician approaching 35, who feels like she's just getting started, I appreciate Gonzales' talk of "punk points", her revelation that even she felt uncertain about her place in the punk scene. It feels like a rare glimpse into the insecurity that (probably) many musicians face about whether they fit, both in the wider world and in their chosen scene.

[Ryan Mishap · Rating 5 out of 5]

As I read through this memoir where each section isn't arranged chronologically and no narrative flow emerges, I slowly recognized that this is actually deftly put together in order to highlight certain experiences, feelings, and ideas. Taken all together, they form a mosaic of a time, place, scene, and people, sure, but, more importantly, of the author as she found herself.

Highly recommended.

[Sarah Pearce · Rating 4 out of 5]

Michelle's intelligent, sincere and passionate writing certainly makes this book worth reading. Plus, it is about an era of music that has seen the different and often sad paths that artists took. Michelle, obviously, went in a positive direction. My favorite part is when she brings the band to see her grandmother. A window onto her soul, she describes the visit with restrained but wonderful insight. Her observation that she was raised in an environment in which creativity was embraced [be it, sewing, crafting, cooking, gardening] is a powerful message to hold closely. Art is essential no matter what it is or how it is taught. This book made me aware of my role as a parent to keep the message of art alive and significant. My son, a professional drummer, was captivated by the story. Not because of the music parts but because Michelle didn't hold back about "the road" and its foibles.

[Bill · Rating 4 out of 5]

Having grown up in the SF Bay area punk scene myself, I'd mainly bought this book for a walk down memory lane, and to learn more about both the author and Spitboy, who for the most part, I only know from having seen t-shirts and stickers back in the 90s.

Much to my surprise, I ended up enjoying the sections about her struggles with identity even more than I did the fun stories from the road. Overall I really enjoyed it, but I agree with a few folks in the comments who've said that they would like to learn more about some of the outcomes of the realizations, and how some of the experiences informed her life after the band broke up.

Either way, it was a quick, attention-holding read that anyone with a passing interest in the intersection of punk, gender, and ethnic identity will definitely love.

[Irisis Miranda Wolfe · Rating 2 out of 5]

It was ok. I liked the pocohantas part.

[sara · Rating 4 out of 5]

i’ve always been a huge fan of rock/punk/hardcore/anything loud and heavy but have never really seen anyone else who looks like or comes from the same background as me, so reading this memoir by michelle gonzales was so NICE. in a scene that’s so dominated by whiteness, it’s hard finding anyone to relate to when it comes to feeling like an outsider or “other” in a scene that you might find comfort in and reading about michelle’s experience with this was really refreshing. especially as a latina who’s from a small town in california, doesn’t speak fluent spanish and always feels “passable” this was such a relatable book to read, seeing as anytime i walk into a show i immediately get reminded of how “othered” i can sometimes feel even in today’s music world.

aside from the relatability of michelle’s experience in the punk scene, just READING about what it was like to be a woman (in an all female + feminist punk band at that) in the 90s hardcore/punk scene was so cool to read about. we’ve all heard what it was like to be a man during this time of punk music but seeing a woman’s experience? this is what i’ve been looking for!!!!! it’s not a perfect memoir, but it’s honest and straightforward and i think that’s all you can ask for in such a short book. if you’re a music fan looking for a memoir with xicana rep + written by a female drummer of an all female band, get into this one quiiiiiiiick!!!!

[Ryn Baginski · Rating 4 out of 5]

Michelle “Todd” Cruz Gonzales is one of my new favorite people now. This is such a good and interesting memoir. She discusses identity and the compartmentalization of identity super well. I love reading books about the thriving punk scene in the 80s and 90s, plus this one is about an awesome woman of color, which just makes this story so much better. Highly recommend this book!

[Missy · Rating 2 out of 5]

It was interesting to read about her dealing with different identities while in punk and Spitboy. I would have liked to read more about that and how she's reconciled and dealt with them but she didn't go into it really. She would bring it up and move onto a different anecdote. It seems like compiled blog posts and was repetitive because of that.

[Brendan · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book is a perfect glimpse into one of the greater punk bands of the 90’s.

[Paula · Rating 5 out of 5]

I took my time reading this, reading one or several stories at night after listening to a people's history all day
These stories were a great break from a heavy, dense, history book. It was a literal result of American history, policies, terror and violence.
This is the first book I've annotated.
While I'm used to a European writing style and I wanted to rearrange the stories, I wanted to form them into what I was used to and make myself more comfortable.
By the end I was strongly reminded about Leslie Marmon Silkos essay about native American story telling and how they weave a web.
I related strongly to her anger.
I had those difficult conversations about race with my friends in the 90s bay area punk scene and avoiding them was probably easier. I walked away from many conversations thinking, whelp I'm never talking to that person again. Many pointless arguments, I a lone voice against a mostly white male hoard. It was hard to gather allies as even woman who shared my skin color would end up skateboarding away from me yelling "Sig heil" ( don't care about the spelling).
At first I was frustrated by this book but, by the end I was transported back to a time in my life. I hated the bay area 90s punk scene, for real, there was a standard of beauty that didn't exist for me in the world at large and I didn't fit it, I was short, brown and round and I favored androgyny over girly, even tough girly punk symbols. I'm sure my huge breast gave me away but, I wanted to be Bowie not the punk version of Betty Paige with a whip.
I remember seeing Michelle and she was so beautiful and confident, talented. I remember speaking to her once and being in aww, I wish I had really spoken to her, heart to heart. In my mind she was what making it in the scene looked like, to me it looked like people accepted all of her and she had found a way to survive and thrive.
She's not wrong about the spitwomen they always had a smile and an encouraging word.
I for one am grateful she wrote this, it's a ally for women of color, messy, angry, tough, and fun.
I'm actually bummed they didn't have a documentary film crew with them, this would have made a great movie.
The photos are great too, I annotated the he'll out of photo of her and Aaron cometbus in her kitchen. I loved the juxtaposition of her looking masculine and tough with this very fem looking person behind her. It was amazing.
Very few people understand what seeing your life reflected back to you through white, privileged eyes feel like and her grandma story was the hardest for me.
Loved this book, I would recommend.

[Jennifer · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 stars

This isn't a regular memoir; Gonzales really does just stick to anecdotes from her band's history. I didn't learn a whole lot about her life after Spitboy, her personal life, or any in-depth information about the other band members. I enjoyed reading it because as someone who spent a lot of time in the East LA punk scene, identity politics is inextricable from the music. Her stories resonated as I think about my own friends and experiences.

I thought the differences between the feminist punk/riot grrrl movement in the early 1990s were interesting, especially after reading Sara Marcus' book Girls to the Front. Debates over intersectional politics and the ownership of movements are still raging for good reason.

[Nicole · Rating 3 out of 5]

Michelle Cruz Gonzales is no Patti Smith, but this is a good, solid musical memoir. Like Just Kids, this book captures a time and place very well, in this case, the world of punk and feminism in the Bay Area in the early 90s. I didn't know Spitboy's music well before I started the book, but that wasn't a big problem. The book is more about the author's attempt to find the intersection between her punk, feminist, and Latina identities than it is about the music. The book was an interesting glimpse into a world that I assumed I knew something about, having lived in the Bay Area in the early 90s, but about which it turns out I was mostly unaware. Like a punk song, it doesn't take long to get through.

[Michael Dunn · Rating 5 out of 5]

Michelle Cruz Gonzales’s “The Spitboy Rule: Tales of a Xicana in a Female Punk Band,” is one of the best rock memoirs I have ever read. It honestly portrays much of what made the 1990s punk scene beautiful, and much of what made it ugly, too. But what really makes this book great is how eloquently, and passionately, Gonzales writes about how it shaped her own personal growth and identity as a working-class woman of color.

First, some of that beauty. $5 live shows. DIY performance spaces and organizations like Gillman Street, Klub Komotion and Epicenter Zone. The political activism. And, of course, the raw energy of bands like Spitboy. Mimi Thi Nguyen’s preface does a great job of anchoring the book in its historical context (e.g., Gulf War, Rodney King, and the rarity, even in the San Francisco Bay Area, of an all-women, anarchist feminist band). Which brings us to some of the ugliness. In spite of the leftwing politics of so many of the bands, and fans, it was still a straight, white, male-dominated scene. Sexism, racism, and homophobia were always present, sometimes overtly, and other times subtly, in the form of “colorblindness,” or the uncritical exercise of privilege.

Many of us were, in fact, very self-critical. But we were also young and inexperienced. Sometimes we came up with good analyses and effective solutions. Other times, well… Let me share one of my favorite parts of the book, when Spitboy is playing in Washington, D.C., with members of Bikini Kill in the audience. Before their set, a tall guy comes up to Gonzales and asks if the men have to stand in the back of the room, like they were told to do during a Bikini Kill set. Irate, Gonzales announces to the audience that men do not have to stand in the back. “We’re not a riot grrrl band.” The room goes silent. So, Spitboy’s lead singer, Adrienne, follows with “Please don’t block a woman’s view; don’t stand in front of someone who is shorter than you are. Just use common sense.”

The first time I experienced the men-in-the-back rule, I willingly complied. The mosh pit was notoriously dominated by big, aggressive dudes, and sometimes outright bullies. And even though I considered myself a feminist, I am tall and probably quite often blocked the view of shorter people without even realizing it. So, it seemed a fair and reasonable compromise to me. However, Spitboy’s less authoritarian message would have really resonated with me, and would have been a much more effective reminder for well-meaning big guys to pay better attention to our oversized footprint.

One of the most powerful chapters in the book is titled Race, Class and Spitboy. It highlights how easily a person from a marginalized group can become invisible to those around them, even when those people are friends, and even when they, themselves, have leftist politics. In one scene, Gonzales introduces her bandmates to her working-class abuela, in East Los Angeles. The band is uncharacteristically quiet and awkward. No one asks her grandmother any questions or tries to get to know her. One of the bandmember’s has a bemused expression similar to the expression she had when Gonzales explained that her two siblings have two different dads, both different from her own dad. Reading this now, I think, what’s so hard to get? Her mom was poor. They lived on welfare. Her dad was abusive. They had to leave him. Tragic and traumatic, but not uncommon, especially for working-class women. Yet somehow this was perplexing to her middle-class bandmates who hadn't experienced such things. I saw some of this same kind of perplexion, or obliviousness, growing up, when many of my middle-class peers assumed my best friend, who was working-class and Xicana, was actually middle-class and white, like them, somehow overlooking the clue in her surname.

This invisibility becomes even more glaring, and ironic, when a white riot grrrl accuses Spitboy of cultural appropriation for naming their 3rd album “Mi Cuerpo Es Mio.” But reflecting back on this incident, Gonzales gains some important insight, too. That her own anger at being accused of racism by a riot grrrl “who couldn't tell a person of color when she was looking right at one,” was actually a mask for the sadness she felt because people didn’t see who she really was, and that she had allowed that to happen.

There are many other moments like this in the book, but you’ll have to pick up a copy and read those for yourself. Likewise, if you want to know why they called themselves Spitboy, or what the Spitboy rule is. You won’t be disappointed. It’s a great book, with lots of rare fliers and posters, as well as stories of touring and performing that range from humorous to frightening. But one last thing I’d like to say in closing is that it’s tragic that Spitboy didn’t get to open for Fugazi, at San Francisco’s Fort Mason Center, on May Day, 1993—a regret that was referenced twice in the book, once in the preface, and again toward the end. The significance is that Fugazi was a band that meant a lot to Spitboy, and to so many of us in the DIY punk scene. Also, because it was such a seminal show. I was there. I was the guy doling out free condoms to anyone who asked, doing my DIY part to stop the spread of HIV. I also gave a speech at the beginning of the show about the Haymarket martyrs, and the anarchist history of May Day. It was a fantastic show, and a great moment in my life. But if Spitboy had played, it would have been one of the greatest punk shows ever.

[Jim · Rating 4 out of 5]

Knowing very little about the SF punk scene during the '90s, I really enjoyed getting to know Spitboy in this intimate book about what it was like to be the only person of color in an all-female band in a male dominated scene. A bit more context regarding the formation of the band, which comes at the very end of the book, would have been useful. Otherwise, my only complaint is that it was too brief. Highly recommended.

[James Tracy · Rating 5 out of 5]

An interview with Michelle in Red Wedge: http://www.redwedgemagazine.com/onlin...

[Rachel Sarah · Rating 5 out of 5]

Great, accessible read which provided a lot of context behind an awesome band!

[D · Rating 4 out of 5]

The Spitboy Rule is more a series of essays than a linear memoir, a bit like a freewheeling conversation about a friend's vivid experiences. I found it hard to put down; details of touring life that could easily seem familiar are rendered in a strong, unique voice from a perspective outside the standard punk narrative. Gonzales grapples throughout with the intersectionality of being Xicana in a the white male dominated Bay Area punk scene; the band emerges as a unit very clear and tightly focused on their objectives. The EP from one of Michelle Cruz Gonzales's earlier bands, Kamala & the Karnivores was just reissued, so maybe someone will re-release the Spitboy catalog (which has aged very well in my opinion, a bit reminiscent to my ears of Killtaker/Steady Diet-era Fugazi).

[James · Rating 5 out of 5]

Great book from the former drummer of Spitboy, Michelle "Todd" Cruz Gonzales. She talks about the politics of Spitboy, of staying united as women in a male dominated subculture, coming to terms with her identity as a xicana in punk, splits with riot grrl, and the angst of being a young person with totally different ways of viewing the world than the dominat culture. Filled with great stories of playing shows and being on tour with a fast and entertaining writing style, Cruz's work should be read by fans of punk and scholars of women's history and latinx studies.

Also, Spitboy was such a great band.

[Frederic · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a great account, told through vignettes, of the feminist hardcore band Spitboy. It touches on a lot of issues around music, performance, and the punk scene involving class, gender, and ethnicity -- so much so that I'm teaching it in my class on "Cultural diversity and contemporary issues". I was on the margins of the scene in the mid-'80s to early '90s (although I never saw Spitboy) and the stories told here brought back memories and felt like they captured the moment effectively. It's also quite readable, so I'm hoping my students will also get into it!

[Laurie · Rating 3 out of 5]

Short but detailed vignettes that discuss what Spitboy was all about and their touring experiences through the eyes of the drummer. It's not a sex, drugs, and rock n' roll story. It's not a political manifesto. It very simply describes what happened, and what it was like. The author weaves in perspectives from later years about realizing how much of the uncomfortable moments in her experience stemmed from being one of the few minorities in a white middle class dominant scene.

[Jeffrey Bumiller · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a great memoir about a very important band. If you're interested in 90's DIY punk rock and especially it's intersection with feminism this is the book for you. The Spitboy Rule at times reminded me, stylistically, of Jay Farrar's excellent memoir Falling Cars & Junkyard Dogs because both Farrar & Gonzales has this loose vignette style of story telling. It's a quick read, but you won't soon forget it.

[Ryan · Rating 4 out of 5]

One of my favorite bands. They felt slightly before my time, even though I saw them once when I was 16. So it was cool to learn more about them.

I enjoyed seeing the photos (and the fliers), hearing the references to other bands that I've never heard of but should probably check out, and, of course, learning more about Spitboy!

[Randi · Rating 4 out of 5]

A glimpse into a specific moment towards the end of the punk rock movement. A young Latina drummer plays in several all-girl bands, and talks about the other band members and life on the road. A major theme is her growing realization, that no matter how edgy they seem, the other women are still basically white and middle-class, and there is a vast gulf between their worldview and hers.

[Juliette · Rating 3 out of 5]

I was a Riot Grrrl in the '90s, and I really liked Spitboy (not Riot Grrrl band.) I was excited to see Michelle Cruz Gonzales had written a memoir about her time as the drummer in Spitboy, as well exploring as her own journey as a Xicana. Her memoir reads a bit like short stories or blog posts, detaling the usual routines of life in a touring punk band... long road trips, being pulled over, sleeping on floors, dealing with sexism, road romances, boredom, Scrabble games, and sight-seeing. It's too bad her worst audience member ever was in Albuquerque, New Mexico, but I'm glad that other ABQ punks were able to support Spitboy after Gonzales called out his misogny. If you enjoy memoirs by women in punk bands, I'd also recommend Michelle Leon's I Live Inside, the original bass player from Babes in Toyland.

[Ned Wells · Rating 4 out of 5]

Really liked this one. Not the biggest fan of Spitboy's recorded music but they were really important to the DIY punk scene happening at that time. More books like this please! This is a breath of fresh air for those of us who are tired of reading books by straight white men whining about how punk/hardcore ended in the early 80s.

[Stacey Falls · Rating 4 out of 5]

this made me nostalgic for my punk rock days, and i appreciate her earnestness. i think in some cases she gave short shrift to topics that could have been explored in more detail, but i still appreciate her candor in dealing with tough topics.

[Portlyn · Rating 4 out of 5]

3 1/2 stars. Everything hit like a punch, especially as someone who grew up Indigenous in the punk scene. Writing style wasn't my favorite, but the story and what Gonzales was saying was more important.

[Drgnkingdom · Rating 4 out of 5]

All of the cool punk friends I had in high school loved this band and I never got into them (was too busy on a locals only kick when it came to punk). reading this while listening thru the discography was great.

[Frances · Rating 3 out of 5]

I really wanted to like this book! It has obviously clicked with a lot of readers and that's great. It wasn't a super engaging reading experience for me as I had a hard time connecting with the author.