Busy!

Well, life’s been crazy making lately… getting this paper done, traveling, making life choices. You know, the usual. I decided to head back to the original school, I’m actually really stoked about it. I was looking over Estelle Freedman’s course offerings (yes, I just got to type that, how amazing) and I’m really excited to go finish there. That was a big hint.  Anyhow, I’ll get back to being irrate soon enough I’m sure

hope you are all doing wonderfully!

Thank you

Thank goodness for the feminist and FA blogsphere. It all keeps me sane. Thank you thank you thank you bloggers. My local network of allies and feminist friends is pretty sad… people “get it” but don’t really…. thank you.  It makes me feel so good that we’re all here, talking, caring, getting it, working on it, trying to be better for one another. 

NPR Morning Edition on this year’s “Women in Sports”

This article is sad proof (again….sigh) that women in sports are token additions in the sports world, which is totally a masculine arena. And that its ok to sexualize and commodify female athletes bodies because that’s what culture does to women’s bodies. A few quotes in this one floored me…

First…

As the French Open moves along, Maria Sharapova and Serena Williams have not only risen again to the top but are both glamorous global celebrities who make the mainstream columns — Maria for her elegant beauty, Serena for her exotic attire.

Well, smarter feminists than I have pointed out just what’s racist and sexist about calling a woman of color exotic. Not to mention calling a white woman elegent or beautiful in the very same sentance.

Oh, but NPR listeners, don’t worry, this reporter is not sexist! Indeed, he knows that he’s just being practical, taking into consideration the facts…

Of course, a lot of women in sports are upset that too much attention is still paid to the way female athletes look and dress, but the reality — fair or not — is that culture pays more attention to women’s appearance. To pretend to avoid that fact in sport is ridiculous.

Sir, these crazies who are upset about the attention paid to how women appear, they never said that it does not happen, in fact I think they are upset because it does happen and it happens a lot.  You see, when female atheletes are treated like this it is for worse. Yes, it is. The End. If you don’t understand why, please go visit your local community college, a person who identifies as a feminist, or perhaps your local bookstore or library. These people who so unreasonably expect that female atheletes should be treated as athletes, certainly did not propose fixing it through media folks like yourself seeing the light, or asking them pretending that female athletes to not have bodies. No, we’d just like you to treat the female body as something that is athletic, and not constantly available for your misogency. I think you know how it is to do that, you do with men all the time.

So I’m confused how your response to the very well documented sexism displayed in the media towards female athletes can be justified through the argument that the attention to women’s apperance is there in culture. Well, yes sir, we certainly know that. And we have a problem with it, so you can’t very well get past it by simply discounting it.

As Danica Patrick told me about posing sexily for a men’s magazine: “It didn’t change my talent. It didn’t make me any less of a driver.”

It did make her more famous.

 If for one moment, we could pretend that the world did not revolve around making men happy all the time, we could see how even your treatment of Patrick’s posing, as proof that it helped her career (read being available for male consumption as a female athlete career boost) is ridiculous. Obviously it helped her career, you dolt. We live in a culture where this happens, as you just kindly pointed out. That, sorry for your argument, does not make it right, fair or just for women. Just because Bonds took steroids doesn not mean that MLB should roll over and accept that male athletes are just going to take steroids, like it or not. And it does improve their careers you know….

Though we seem to have forgotten… its her body, she can do what she likes with it. If she choses to pose in magazines that are directed at men, it makes her no less of an athlete because, guess what…. SHE’S AN ATHLETE. Male athletes have been accused of rape, drug abuse, gambling, and I can’t remember anyone asking them if they were athletes, or if those actions took away from men as athletes. If I were to walk out on the street tomorrow and make the argument that because men’s balls are so vulnerable, being outside their bodies, they aren’t true athletes, people would laugh and ignore me. But when you’re a woman, you just might not be an athlete, becuase you’ve got ovaries. Or a vagina. 

So what’s the problem then you ask? Well, again, please visit the locations or people above for more feminism 101. But, here it is in a nutshell. The problem that we crazy feminists have is not with the fact that Patrick posed. The problem with Patrick, is that people like you, sir, are giving more attention to her body as a sex object that your are her as a person out on the track. You ask her to resolve how she can be “sexy” and an athlete. Then, you expect her to be sexy and an athlete in order to get your attention. Otherwise, sir, you don’t cover women in sports. You don’t fund them. People don’t pay to see them. The mind boggles at patriarchy’s double standards and hypocrisy. The fact that little girls have to defend being girls and athletes, when boys never have to resolve their gender with the sport they love to do. No one is asking you to ignore what you see before you, we’re asking that you change how you look at those things.

Via most feminist blogs

Everyone has this, and I thought I’d add. Makes me sick

Please watch, and sign the petition at the link below 

http://www.womensmediacenter.com/sexism_sells.html

Night Life

Welll yesterday was quite the feminist stomachache. Recently, on some blog, a brilliant blogger pointed out that feminism is what helps explain the world around us, rather than just running around calling people assholes and thinking that its their individual behavior.  This, however, is still hard to cope with- the individual behavior that hurts like hell. Yesterday, two big things occured that smacked me upside the head (yeah, actually, it was violent) with the nastiness of patriarchy.  

First, it was a beautiful day. Spring around these parts has been terrible, and I was out of town for the last weekend we had nice, sunny weather. Fortunetly, I was in a sunny spot, but busy all day with non-leisure activites. Putting on a bathing suit should NOT be an intimidating or psychologically difficult experience. Thanks to patriarchy it is. My parents have a pool, and as I live in the same vicinity as my ‘rents, when I have time to kill on nice days (read study or work break) I really like hanging out at the pool. Its quiet, and water has a brilliantly soothing and cooling effect. I’m a lucky kid. Anyhow, after a few hours of work on THE PAPER, I was looking forward to the first day of pool this year. I put on my bathing suit and realized, I didn’t look the same as last year. 

Now, to clarify, this is the intersection of lots of things, but at this point most of the issues are on the surface. They’re still painful, but in a way that I can see its stuff which isn’t my fault. So looking at my body and realizing that it wasn’t as small, as toned, and “nice” or as “neat” as the last time I’d put it on…  well it made me see lots of things. First, that the exercise of putting on a bathing suit necessitated my judgment of my body. Hmmmm, why?  Well, mostly because I was trying to protect against the judgement of others. Since my body in a bathing suit is primarily a thing to be measured, judged and looked at by others (mostly males) it was my duty to carefully scrutinize it myself before daring to put it on display.  That’s some hard stuff. I spent most of the time in my bathing suit listening to that voice, the one that tells me that my body is something bad. Now, luckily enough, I can hear that voice as a voice now, rather than as truth, or as myself. I can see where it comes from. But listening to it, figuring out how to deal with it is tough. 

After an hour at the pool, I walked with some friends (2 guys) down to a local beach. The culture of evaluation and judgement continued. The comparisons and valuation based on body were just too obvious. I might have to avoid beaches for a while. Which fucking sucks, but at this point, it makes me miserable to see all the bullshit that goes on with so many bodies on display. We sat down, and my guy friends started commenting on a guys body- doing the equvilate of the “ohhh I wish I had her (insert body part here)” and generally being insecure and ridiculous. I asked them to stop. Later, I explained that it made me feel really uncomfortable because if they were comparing themselves and others, and if they did they, wouldn’t they also probably compare me to others- and I really was tired of being a body in public space to be evaluated. I asked them how it would feel if I did that, compare myself, to other girls, and how uncomfortable they would be. Mostly, these guys are awesome, and it made me really sad to see them do this. I value them for them, I don’t care what they look like, and I wish they would too, be happy enough to not pull that bullshit. Not to mention, that one whispered to the other, “if I were gay, I would definitely do him” when I was on the phone. Smooth, now you’re giving your approval to guys by way of if you would have sex with them. Sigh again. 

I went out to dinner after that, and was psychologically exhausted. But, I rallied, went home, took some deep breathes, and went out to join a friend for her birthday for drinks and dancing. 

I haven’t been “out” in a long time. If I go to bars, its for a drink with friends on a evening, but I rarely frequent spots that are typically meat markety.  Honestly, I had almost forgotten how fucked up that scene is.  The closest I ever got that was frat parties my freshman year, and even then… it was different.  I walked into the bar, and ended up being 20 min early. From the moment I walked in, I felt the confusion of what the fuck I was supposed to be doing there. I didn’t have anyone I knew, and you couldn’t really look at anyone. I mean, if you make eye contact, it feels like you’re giving a guy permission to come and invade your personal space. Literally, I felt like I couldn’t look around the bar because I would be inviting unwanted attention. I’m a resonably “attractive” person by society’s messed up standerds, and I was probably about 6′3″ wearing heels last night, so I command some attention when I enter or inhabit a room. But this can’t take away from the fact that I was a GIRL, no matter the “attractiveness,” and I had walked into a setting where I was available for consumption, once again. My desire to stand, by myself, because I felt like waiting, seemed like an unreasonable request in this setting. The setting being a public area after 10:30 at night. WTF. The fact that I didn’t feel like being accessible to guys made  me to feel 1)  like a bitch (classic) 2) unreasonable and 3 ) apologetic for existing in the space. Sigh again. 

Well, my friends came soon enough (2 girls, 3 guys I don’t know so well.) The situation improved, it was fun to sit around and enjoy a drink. One of them (a sports freak) even said he hoped Danica would win the 500 Things were looking up. 

After a bit, the birthday girl wanted to go dancing, which I was all for. I hadn’t been dancing in like 6 months, and I knew she was a blast to go dancing with (none of us really drink, so its good sober fun.) We headed over to the place.

- On the way over we got street harassed

- After excusing myself for bumping into a guy in the bar, I got touched not so subtly ’round my waist

- Taking off my layer over my dress, I got oggles and comments about my boobs

- I watch a ridiculous number of men check out me and my friends (up and down, kinda the way I would imagine you look at oh, anything non-human you’re carefully scrutinizing) 

- Walking back to my car, I get the classic “hey baby, how you doing..” creeper, I give them the finger over my shoulder as I pass. Funny how fast guys can change their tone and call you a “fucking bitch.” 

I mean, its almost sad and pathetic how easy this shit is to analyze. If you’re a woman and you go out to dance, you’re subject to this. And, lots of women, myself included (the voice that told me I should be hotter, skinnier, was there, and it loved getting looked at when it thought it was getting approval. It also worried a shitload about if I was good enough to have male attention. Hilarious…. if it weren’t so sad) have internalized this as a way to gain approval and feel good about themselves. Being treated like objects by men is a form of praise, and men think so to.  But its straight up terrorism (thanks nine deuce) When you resist being objectified, tell a guy he’s out of line, you’re subject to more violence as they defend their right to treat you like shit. Not to mention its not my responsiblity to educate every guy who pulls this stuff. But being approached respectfully would be really cool. The ONE highlight of the night

I’m dancing with my friends and a guy bumps into me

Guy- Oh hey, I’m sorry about that

Me- Yeah, don’t worry about it

Guy- I’m really sorry…. hey what’s your name

Me- I’m (insert my name here)

Guy- Nice to meet you, I’m (insert whatever his name was) ……… do you want to dance?

Me- No thank you, but I appreciate you asking. A lot of guys wouldn’t. 

Guy- Oh, ok, well… I didn’t bump into you on accident. 

Me- Yeah… I kinda figured.

Guy- ok, welll……

Me- have a good night!

I mean at least the guy bothered to have a conversation with me (I mean, kinda), ask my name, and was honest about his intentions. In other words, he treated me like a human being.  So hooray. Sadly enough, after that I almost felt like I should have danced with him out of thanks…. for being a normal human being to me. Oh jeeeze. 

The sadder thing is, I can see how this shit happens to girls are drunker, wearing less clothing etc and it gets blamed on them. No one should be subject to this, no one deserves to be treated like this. When I discussed this later with the BF (who has since apologized about the GTA thing, and kinda gets it) he actually asked what would be a good role for men when out in night life situations, tying to meet girls. YAY dudes for asking questions! 

A bit more on why being told I’M being patronizing pisses me off..

http://shakespearessister.blogspot.com/2008/05/feminism-101-on-anger.html

And the patriarchy continues…

The following conversation ensued after I called my boyfriend (C) out for expressing interest in playing GTA 4. This friends, A and B were there. A knows pretty much nothing about feminism, B and C are both straight and white, and know plenty. Sigh.

Me- i think its fucked up you want to play a game that features prostitute killing
A- why?
me- cause killing prostitiutes is not cool, its a mirror of the way that sex workers are considered less than human in our society.
A- but we kill other people in the game too
Me- I explain what patriarchy is, and how violence against women is different than violence against men within the system. I then clarify how it is also used to oppress groups who male identify, but not because of their maleness, because of their other deviance (race, gender id, sex pref, ability etc) So, yes, violence is bad, but it is patricularly sinister towards women, especially sex workers (I explain the shaming, dehummanizition, etc it)
B- well I don’t go around telling my friends to be vegan even though I think its a responsibility.
Me- well holding my male friends accountable is my way of acitivism.
B- well there are bigger things than not playing GTA 4 that C could be doing
Me- there are always bigger things.
A- but does playing or not playing GTA 4 really matter? Will it change anything
Me- (at this point really fucking fed up) give me a break, are we really discussing this?  Of course it matters, y’all have male privilege and you can’t just decide that doing this is ok and just ignore the fact that its messed up. Take someesponsiblity.
C- but its like the bible, there are good parts, you ignore the bad, take the good, like the religions (can’t thirow the baby out with the bathwater argument)
Me- well, that might be true, but what’s your point? i told you it was a fucked up game. You can decide to play it, you decide to do things that are messed up, as I do all the time. But you have an opportunity to be an ally.
C- well, you seem to be deciding all this, whether I’m good or not.
Things got pretty ugly from there. I cried, they acussed me of being patronizing, which I probably was. Well, you would be too if men were throwing misogeny at you and refusing to listen. Because its just so painfully obvious what’s going on- these guys are proctecting their individual male privilege of deciding how they can be allies, reserving the right to decide for themselves. Individualism wooo hoo. Can’t listen to the girl with more knowledge can we? No, we just will try to argue with her using all the old tropes and then accuse her of being patronizing when she gets fed up with EDUCATING THEM.  Cause, they don’t need education, and if they do, then its her job to teach them how they’re fucked up. Not to mention, being patronized by a girl is pretty bad right? I mean,. here’s this GIRL who knows more than me and is treating me like my argument is stupid. How dare she. Even though my argument is stupid and offensive to her, she should be pateint and nice about it.
 
So, this is how it went-
You silly overreacting feminist, I can play the game and decide if its bad, I’m a man. I know all. Your feminist knowledge is something I deserve you to educate me about, and I will probably understand it better than you anyhow. You’re interferring with my ability to act as an idividual, stop restricting me!

NPR on Transgender, Part 2

Just wanted to briefly note that I thought NPR’s Thursday story was much, much more insightful and well done than their piece Wednesday. I’ll post back with more thoughts. Way to redeem yourself, NPR.

NPR on transgender children

Now, I am no expert when it comes to gender issues. If there is a weak spot in my feminist education, that’s it, issues of gender identity, sexuality etc. But even I, silly “straight” girl (what does that mean anyway?) know that the story NPR just ran was chalk full of gender idiocy. 

Here’s a quick blurb- you can get the rest and hear the story HERE

First, both children profiled were sexually idenified as boys.  Apparently NPR is not familiar with the distinction between sex and gender. 

Gender identity disorder is a label given to children who believe themselves to be born into the wrong biological body. This diagnostic label encompases a range of behaviors — and the label itself is controversial. But, in general, what characterizes children like Bradley is that they are more than just effeminate boys, or masculine girls, who are gay. These are children who genuinely believe they are girls even though they have a male body — or boys, even though they have a female body.

NPR, its time to catch up- we know that you are trying to be nuetral reporters here but “gender identity disorder” is not controversial, its just plain wrong. Since sex and gender are two seperate things, which have no reason to “match up” besides keeping everyone feeling comfortable with the status quo (read with sexism, homophobia, etc) then I’m not sure how you can incorrectly, or disorderly, gender identify at all. If one does identify, that seems like its half the issue to the crazies anyhow (ever notice how uncomfortable androgyny gets?)

Mainstream psychology states that sex are the set of sexual organs you are born with, gender is the identity that you perform. This is not radical- the ways of being “girl” and “boy” have changed throughout the course of history- gender is not a two set system, its a spectrum, even a web of options. Now, if you really want to get “radical” (which is bullshit, cause its not that radical) go check out the idea that sex is not a two set choice either. Babies are born intersexed all the time and their sex is chosen for then.  Because, the world would fall to pieces without our nice boxes that penis= man and vagina= woman and well you’re just out of luck if you happen to not fit. 

Boys who have a female body, well lets go back to basics here NPR, since you managed not to mention this at all when profiling the therapy approach of “gender identity disorder.” If one is born with a female body, one still has to choose how to perform.  This way of performing may match up with our idea of “female,” ie this little girl might choose to play with dolls given to her etc. How nice, how convinient. However, there is no magical rule that states that having a vagina at birth has a corresponding “right” way of gender performance, or that gender performance has so magical norm in the first place. So, boys are taught to be boys, and girls to be girls. There is lots of overlap between the gender performances, but if you’re familiar with feminist or queer theory at all, you can see how protective people can get about keeping gender lines distinct, performances distinctive. 

Its also interesting how automatic NPR made what it means to be a “girl” or “boy”- the old tropes get pulled out. Pink is a naturally girly color because a little boy (cause that’s what he really is) who wants to be a girl chooses it! So there must be something automatically feminine about pink. Or dresses.

His drawings, however, also proved problematic. Bradley would populate his pictures with the toys and interests he no longer had access to — princesses with long flowing hair, fairies in elaborate dresses, rainbows of pink and purple and pale yellow. So, under Zucker’s direction, Carol and her husband sought to change this as well.

Maybe, just maybe, its not these kids who are screwed up. Maybe its our gender system. Maybe they like the color pink, they like dresses, and those things happen to make them “girls.” Its not their fault they like that stuff that we say doesn’t match up with who they’re “supposed” to be, its our fault for creating insane rules. Fuck the gender/sex dichotomy and our insane rules, and let the kid do what she wants and leave your damn boxes out of it. Whether Bradley is a “boy” or a “girl”, which are both pretty silly ideas at all, why don’t we all calm down and let her do what she wants? 

Additionally, I love how they picked “boys” who wanted to be “girls.” This is terrible, because boys cannot be like girls! Sometimes girls can do boy things, but boys can’t be weak and lame like girls!  Its pretty well documented, as in girls are kept as the lesser gender as they can aspire to boys, but boys can’t aspire to girls. Perhaps this is even scarier, the little boy wants to be a girl?!? Why would you want that? 

Sorry if I messed up an of this analysis, feel free to call me out. Trying to educate myself more about this….

more than “Love your body!” bullshit (which isn’t really bullshit, but is one line going to solve this issue?)

first draft of an essay I needed to write in order to emotionally compose for a paper I’m attempting…  

         Not too long ago I “came out” about my eating disorder. Like so many others my age, my eating disorder has for a long time been anything but glamorous. I certainly wasn’t the stick thin models that anorexia uses as its public face, and I was not throwing up secretly after meals. No, those were my early ED years- when the drive to be thin was unquestioned and holy. My body is not designed to be as a woman the way it was as a girl, no matter how badly I was convinced that its changes were due to my exorbitant and inappropriate appetite. My changing body was a failing, it showed that I had become “bad.” And so, around the age of 16, I decided that food was the newest frontier and my body its land to be conquered.

            So like generations of women before me, including my mother, and probably my grandmother, certainly my great grandmother, I began the initiation into womanhood by the fire of denying and controlling food, and hating my body

            The details of my ED are mundane. They are the story of so many women, it’s not my story anymore. Rather it’s the cultural hysteria of thinness and health that you can see everywhere you turn- a lunchtime girlfriends conversation, the covers of magazines, the junk science of the obesity crisis.  For so long I believed that my struggle was one of loneliness, that my obsession with food, which tipped occasionally into a “full-fledged” ED, was something that was wrong with me. That I was the failure, for first having this body, for second fattening this body, and third, for not being able to be normal, healthy and in control as I was supposed to be.

            So where am I now? I’m angry. So hurt, frustrated and angry at the generation of adults who watched this happen to me and to my sisters. Listen- I understand that you all have your issues. That as young women, you, even less than I, had no language in which to understand the contempt and hat you had for your body and the fat that came with it. You grew up with Twiggy, watched the health craze of the 70’s and 80’s take fat to new levels of terrifying. By now, you’re not young anymore. Many of you have abandoned the images of sex and glamour that accompanied the fantasy of thin. But its still got you, and you won’t talk about it, won’t deal with it, and are going to watch your daughters, nieces, god children suffer through the mess you haven’t stood up to.

            Blame is a nasty thing.  It tends to narrow one’s field of vision, concentrating hatred and fear on something which does not deserve it.  The real problem in the destruction of the female body does not lie with my mother’s generation.  They have their own wounds and their own baggage. They are not responsible for creating this monster of patriarchy and capitalism. My intention, despite my anger, bordering on blame, is a call to action, not to punishment.

            Recently my mother picked a book up for me, knowing of my struggles with my body and my feminist tendencies. The Body Project is a fantastic book, approachable and readable, even without a background in feminist thought. My senior year of high school I read this book as part of a gender studies class. It describes the historical path that women’s bodies have taken on their way to their current state, how we have learned to make our bodies “projects” reflecting our success and worth. She left it with a pile of mail, with a nice note saying she thought that I might enjoy it.

            Later that week, over dinner out, I informed her that I had read it already, but I appreciated the gesture (which I did, she picked up on the stuff I care about, which is nice.) I told her she might want to consider reading it, it was a great introduction to the political and personal history of women’s bodies. Yes, yes, she told me, it did sound interesting. But she had so many books to read! They just piled up.  Yes, I thought silently, but none of those books will help you understand your own wounds, or my wounds, or the wounds that impact those closest to you. Your daughter told you she is in recovery from an eating disorder and invites you to understand it, you tell her that you’ve got to go read about alternative energy.

            For me, this illustrates a quintessential mark of the baby boomer generation. Though my experience is primarily through the lens of a very privileged and white upbringing, these are the people who set the agenda, have access and have power. Their interests are critical to the cultural zeitgeist.  My mother does amazing work, she volunteers for the board of trustees at her childrens’ school, she donates time and money to a plethora of organizations that do work both in the US ands abroad. One, in particular, goes to communities without clean water sources, and utilizing local resources, installs accessible wells. She’s been to several of these countries, touring wells and visiting communities who tell the organization how wonderful their lives are now with clean water (which is also true and wonderful.)

            As the well meaning citizens of United States become involved in their choice causes, they seem to be forgetting their children, proverbial and literal. As they care about global warming, they ignore the fact that their girls still have unequal access and rights to being outside.  As they push their college students to travel overseas to help out “developing” countries, they forget about global warming. As they advocate for local, organic food, they forget that so many of them still can’t eat without guilt, that their girls don’t know how to love their bodies with food.  This generation claims to be selfless, they claim to be givers, a return to their flower children roots perhaps, atonement for the 80’s. But my mother runs marathons to cope with her body, she orders half portions at restaurants when she’s not that hungry, has the wait staff box up that other half. She tells me she wouldn’t be able to have a jar full of chocolates near her, as I do, at work. I would eat all of them, she tells me, her voice full of years of learned diet talk, lack of self control, badness.  

            It’s a generation that is so afraid of its shadow, of its issues, that it pretends they’re all out there. Even then, the conditions of suffering out there are not really their responsibility. Human suffering, according to the glossy non-profit pamphlets, is something that is here for you to change. It’s not the product of industrialization, colonialism; it’s this inevitable thing that can make you, you, the savior. And what kind of person would you be not to help, the voices cry. What this cultural obsession, moral mandate, really does is save us from looking at the stuff that actually hurts, gives us an out for looking at the suffering we cause in our own lives.  

            The trouble with my critique is that it is unable to account for the amazing amount of good that people like my mother do. It calls her, and women like her, out in a sexist way, holding them accountable for the issues of their daughters, while leaving men in the shadows, those who in our patriarchy hold real power. Yet it is my mother who I am so angry at, so frustrated with. Marianne Willimason was talking about her generation the other night, and I was lucky enough to attend. She noted that the survival of a species is many times indicated by the actions of mothers to protect their young- she said that if this were true, American mothers could do better. Yes, American mothers can do better- especially those privileged enough to externalize their guilt and suffering, to look away from those closest to them for what they need to heal. Many mothers don’t have this luxury, many American mothers worry about feeding, clothing and keeping their children physically safe. For those of you who have the ability to think about concerns for your children that are beyond survival- think twice. Don’t turn away from the issues that will starve your daughter, silence her. She needs you to deal with your own baggage, to touch those wounds, to come back and help her.