So it seems that no part of a woman's body is safe from scrutiny, disapproval, and the Need! to Fix! It!!
I've seen this infomercial a few times. And every time, my response is a resounding WTF??? Are beauty companies really THAT hard-up for ways to make women feel insecure? Or are they just that greedy, that they need to manufacture a new kind of "workout" for a totally un-work-out-able body part in order to sell women one more bit of shit we don't need to "fix" our bodies a little more?
Oh, for fuck's sake. Why am I surprised? Women can never be perfect enough. This is just one more way to capitalize on that, and the free market never misses an opportunity to profit from misogyny.
8.08.2009
8.07.2009
Confronting My Privilege, Accidentally: Part 3 (Class)
Memes! I love memes. Discovered one today courtesy of What Tami Said, that presents a series of questions about the markers of class privilege in one's own life. Let's play, shall we? (I've marked my own positive answers in bold)
Take a step:
If your father went to college before you started
If your father finished college before you started
If your mother went to college before you started
If your mother finished college before you started
If you have any relative who is an attorney, physician, or professor.
If your family was the same or higher class than your high school teachers
If you had a computer at home when you were growing up (To be fair, in the 70s and 80s, home computers weren't as ubiquitous)
If you had your own computer at home when you were growing up
If you had more than 50 books at home when you were growing up
If you had more than 500 books at home when you were growing up (Maybe...never counted them, but we had a lot.)
If were read children's books by a parent when you were growing up
If you ever had lessons of any kind as a child or a teen
If you had more than two kinds of lessons as a child or a teen
If the people in the media who dress and talk like you were portrayed positively
If you had a credit card with your name on it before college
If you had or will have less than $5000 in student loans when you graduate
If you had or will have no student loans when you graduate (I technically finished with $13k in loans, but with an agreement with my father that he would pay them; they were only in my name so that making payments would help improve my credit rating, so it wasn't that *I* really owed anything personally.)
If you went to a private high school
If you went to summer camp (Does Girl Scout camp count?)
If you had a private tutor
(US students only) If you have been to Europe more than once as a child or teen
(International question) If you have been to the US more than once as a child or teen
If your family vacations involved staying at hotels rather than KOA or at relatives homes
If all of your clothing has been new
If your parents gave you a car that was not a hand-me-down from them
If there was original art in your house as a child or teen
If you had a phone in your room
If your parent owned their own house or apartment when you were a child or teen
If you had your own room as a child or teen
If you participated in an SAT/ACT prep course
If you had your own cell phone in High School (Again, not so much with the fancy technology in the mid 80s)
If you had your own TV as a child or teen
If you opened a mutual fund or IRA in High School or College
If you have ever flown anywhere on a commercial airline
If you ever went on a cruise with your family
If your parents took you to museums and art galleries as a child or teen
If you were unaware of how much heating bills were for your family
My privilege rating on this scale of class privilege is 21/37. That's a lot of class privilege, most of which I was unaware of until considering it now. I mean, I always knew I was extremely privileged to have been able to travel to Europe the way I did, and to have a car and computer and cell phone. Those are obvious markers of privilege. But the books (my own collection easily exceeded 50 by age 12), original art (a beautiful glass boat bought in Venice, talk about yer privilege), museums...and in particular, the heating bill question. I was probably 20 before I found out what that kind of thing costs. Any impulse to keep the heater low in winter, or not use the A/C as much in summer, or turn off lights when I left a room, was motivated by a vague sort of youthful half-conscious environmentalism, wherein I knew that leaving things to run was wasting energy, but only thought of it in terms of power plants and such. I never thought of it in terms of lowering one's bill, in the way that a less class-privileged child would have been taught.
That makes me think of the rollover minutes commercials, you know, the ones in which the mom is a nagging harpy about using one's rollover minutes because they're "just as good!" as the new minutes, while the children and husband sigh and indulge her just to make her shut up. In one of the most recent of that series, the mom uses her catchphrase - "Saving minutes saves money!" - only her son interrupts with a put-upon sigh, so that it goes more like this:
"Saving minutes - "
" - saves money. We know, Mom."
I always hated these commercials on a feminist basis, because they lean so heavily on the narrative of woman-as-nagging-bitch and the poor, poor menz that have to deal with her. But they hadn't really bothered me on a class basis until now. Now, I look at that, and I realize that we're meant to see that exchange as funny, because silly woman! to be so concerned about saving money, and her privileged offspring have better things to worry about. Isn't it funny, mocking people who actually do have to worry about money! Ha. ha. ha.
Because I look at that commercial now and realize...I was that kid. If my parents had bugged me about changing my habits as a cost-cutting measure, I would have scoffed and thought they were being oversensitive or worrying too much. I didn't have to grow up knowing what the heating bill cost, didn't have to grow up knowing every light I left on made it harder to pay that bill or the rent or buy food. I grew up able to assume the money would always be there, no problem.
I started this post intending just to play with a new meme - I really do love them - and maybe get some feedback, ask people what their privilege rating was by this measure. I didn't expect to suddenly realize the extent of my privilege as more than just a number on a test. I didn't expect to be confronted with the little ways in which my class has privileged me. I thought I was such a Good Progressivetm for acknowledging that I was spoiled by things like trips to Europe and Australia, and flying lessons at $250/weekend, and my own car when I turned 16; I let acknowledgment of the big privileges blind me to the need to acknowledge the little privileges, too. Things like not only having my own car, but never having to work for gas money. Like assuming every year that I'd get new school clothes for fall, and feeling slightly put-upon for having to buy them at Target instead of the mall like some of my friends did, not even thinking about those who bought theirs at thrift stores or inherited clothes from older siblings or didn't get anything new at all. Like never having to know the bus system of my hometown; without my car, I would have no idea how to get from one end of town to the other, and even after living in Santa Cruz and learning that bus system and navigating the metro systems of several cities in other countries, I don't know the public transit of the town where I grew up.
Well. Back to step one. Forth to the blogosphere I go, to read and learn and begin the work of confronting and mitigating my previously-invisible-to-me class privilege. Wish me luck.
Also, how did you fare on this list? Tell me in comments, with a link to your list if you do this on your own blog!
Take a step:
If your father went to college before you started
If your father finished college before you started
If your mother went to college before you started
If your mother finished college before you started
If you have any relative who is an attorney, physician, or professor.
If your family was the same or higher class than your high school teachers
If you had a computer at home when you were growing up (To be fair, in the 70s and 80s, home computers weren't as ubiquitous)
If you had your own computer at home when you were growing up
If you had more than 50 books at home when you were growing up
If you had more than 500 books at home when you were growing up (Maybe...never counted them, but we had a lot.)
If were read children's books by a parent when you were growing up
If you ever had lessons of any kind as a child or a teen
If you had more than two kinds of lessons as a child or a teen
If the people in the media who dress and talk like you were portrayed positively
If you had a credit card with your name on it before college
If you had or will have less than $5000 in student loans when you graduate
If you had or will have no student loans when you graduate (I technically finished with $13k in loans, but with an agreement with my father that he would pay them; they were only in my name so that making payments would help improve my credit rating, so it wasn't that *I* really owed anything personally.)
If you went to a private high school
If you went to summer camp (Does Girl Scout camp count?)
If you had a private tutor
(US students only) If you have been to Europe more than once as a child or teen
(International question) If you have been to the US more than once as a child or teen
If your family vacations involved staying at hotels rather than KOA or at relatives homes
If all of your clothing has been new
If your parents gave you a car that was not a hand-me-down from them
If there was original art in your house as a child or teen
If you had a phone in your room
If your parent owned their own house or apartment when you were a child or teen
If you had your own room as a child or teen
If you participated in an SAT/ACT prep course
If you had your own cell phone in High School (Again, not so much with the fancy technology in the mid 80s)
If you had your own TV as a child or teen
If you opened a mutual fund or IRA in High School or College
If you have ever flown anywhere on a commercial airline
If you ever went on a cruise with your family
If your parents took you to museums and art galleries as a child or teen
If you were unaware of how much heating bills were for your family
My privilege rating on this scale of class privilege is 21/37. That's a lot of class privilege, most of which I was unaware of until considering it now. I mean, I always knew I was extremely privileged to have been able to travel to Europe the way I did, and to have a car and computer and cell phone. Those are obvious markers of privilege. But the books (my own collection easily exceeded 50 by age 12), original art (a beautiful glass boat bought in Venice, talk about yer privilege), museums...and in particular, the heating bill question. I was probably 20 before I found out what that kind of thing costs. Any impulse to keep the heater low in winter, or not use the A/C as much in summer, or turn off lights when I left a room, was motivated by a vague sort of youthful half-conscious environmentalism, wherein I knew that leaving things to run was wasting energy, but only thought of it in terms of power plants and such. I never thought of it in terms of lowering one's bill, in the way that a less class-privileged child would have been taught.
That makes me think of the rollover minutes commercials, you know, the ones in which the mom is a nagging harpy about using one's rollover minutes because they're "just as good!" as the new minutes, while the children and husband sigh and indulge her just to make her shut up. In one of the most recent of that series, the mom uses her catchphrase - "Saving minutes saves money!" - only her son interrupts with a put-upon sigh, so that it goes more like this:
"Saving minutes - "
" - saves money. We know, Mom."
I always hated these commercials on a feminist basis, because they lean so heavily on the narrative of woman-as-nagging-bitch and the poor, poor menz that have to deal with her. But they hadn't really bothered me on a class basis until now. Now, I look at that, and I realize that we're meant to see that exchange as funny, because silly woman! to be so concerned about saving money, and her privileged offspring have better things to worry about. Isn't it funny, mocking people who actually do have to worry about money! Ha. ha. ha.
Because I look at that commercial now and realize...I was that kid. If my parents had bugged me about changing my habits as a cost-cutting measure, I would have scoffed and thought they were being oversensitive or worrying too much. I didn't have to grow up knowing what the heating bill cost, didn't have to grow up knowing every light I left on made it harder to pay that bill or the rent or buy food. I grew up able to assume the money would always be there, no problem.
I started this post intending just to play with a new meme - I really do love them - and maybe get some feedback, ask people what their privilege rating was by this measure. I didn't expect to suddenly realize the extent of my privilege as more than just a number on a test. I didn't expect to be confronted with the little ways in which my class has privileged me. I thought I was such a Good Progressivetm for acknowledging that I was spoiled by things like trips to Europe and Australia, and flying lessons at $250/weekend, and my own car when I turned 16; I let acknowledgment of the big privileges blind me to the need to acknowledge the little privileges, too. Things like not only having my own car, but never having to work for gas money. Like assuming every year that I'd get new school clothes for fall, and feeling slightly put-upon for having to buy them at Target instead of the mall like some of my friends did, not even thinking about those who bought theirs at thrift stores or inherited clothes from older siblings or didn't get anything new at all. Like never having to know the bus system of my hometown; without my car, I would have no idea how to get from one end of town to the other, and even after living in Santa Cruz and learning that bus system and navigating the metro systems of several cities in other countries, I don't know the public transit of the town where I grew up.
Well. Back to step one. Forth to the blogosphere I go, to read and learn and begin the work of confronting and mitigating my previously-invisible-to-me class privilege. Wish me luck.
Also, how did you fare on this list? Tell me in comments, with a link to your list if you do this on your own blog!
In which I use my blog purely to point at someone else's words and nod sagely
I want to shower this woman with SHOEZ and paint her house sparkly purple for her:
I mean, really, what else is there to say?
A moment of perspective: The people who are currently going completely apeshit about spending federal funds to provide healthcare to every American citizen are the same people who cheered on an almost trillion-dollar war of choice which has left hundreds of thousands of people wounded or dead. They are also the same people who call themselves "pro-life," and the vast majority of them subscribe to a religion whose central figure spent an enormous amount of time exhorting kindness, admonishing his followers to care for the poor, and healing the sick.
I mean, really, what else is there to say?
8.06.2009
On Teaspoons and Teaspooning
So it occurs to me that, of late, I've made several references to teaspoons and teaspooning, plus added a tag to that effect. Any readers coming across from Shakesville, or who have hung out there much, will understand what I mean by it. But for those who are from other places on the web, or who have come here after meeting me in realspace, an explanation might be in order.
The beginnings of the term originate from Melissa McEwan, blogmistress of Shakesville, in a post where she said:
But the idea has taken on a life of its own and grown since that inception. Teaspoon Theory is one of the defining codes by which I live my life. I define Teaspoon Theory for myself as thus:
An email I send to my Congressperson is a teaspoon. A reply to an obnoxiously racist forward that lands in my email box is a teaspoon. A comment on a beauty blog, asking the blogger not to review AHAVA products, is a teaspoon. Being the visible feminist in class, drawing ire away from those whose feminism is still nascent and too delicate to withstand ridicule, is a teaspoon. Asking my brother for the nth time not to say "That's so lame" is a teaspoon. Each and every post I put up on this blog is a teaspoon.
Some teaspoons are easy to deploy, like a letter to a Congressperson. Some are terrifying, like calling your father out over a racist joke. Teaspooning is exhausting, often, and sometimes I wonder why I do it still. But then I remember. My teaspoon is small, but it is not alone. And in conjunction with the Law of Non-Neutrality (aka All In), choosing not to raise my teaspoon is choosing to uphold the status quo. How can I do anything but rally and teaspoon forth again?
Teaspoons ho!
The beginnings of the term originate from Melissa McEwan, blogmistress of Shakesville, in a post where she said:
Today is the final day of the 16 Days of Action Against Gender Violence, during which I suppose I have blogged exactly as often as always about violence against women, in America and abroad. Sometimes it feels like it's all I ever write about; sometimes it feels like I can't possibly write about it enough to do the issue justice; often, those feelings exist within me simultaneously. All I ever do is try to empty the sea with this teaspoon; all I can do is keep trying to empty the sea with this teaspoon.
But the idea has taken on a life of its own and grown since that inception. Teaspoon Theory is one of the defining codes by which I live my life. I define Teaspoon Theory for myself as thus:
On their own, the little things we do each day to fight the forces of injustice, hate, and bigotry, are as futile as trying to empty the ocean with a teaspoon, one scoop at a time. But each person has a teaspoon they can wield, for good or for ill, and if we can inspire enough people to use enough teaspoons...eventually, the ocean will be a lake, then a pond, and eventually a slightly damp valley. Teaspoons will be what saves the world.
An email I send to my Congressperson is a teaspoon. A reply to an obnoxiously racist forward that lands in my email box is a teaspoon. A comment on a beauty blog, asking the blogger not to review AHAVA products, is a teaspoon. Being the visible feminist in class, drawing ire away from those whose feminism is still nascent and too delicate to withstand ridicule, is a teaspoon. Asking my brother for the nth time not to say "That's so lame" is a teaspoon. Each and every post I put up on this blog is a teaspoon.
Some teaspoons are easy to deploy, like a letter to a Congressperson. Some are terrifying, like calling your father out over a racist joke. Teaspooning is exhausting, often, and sometimes I wonder why I do it still. But then I remember. My teaspoon is small, but it is not alone. And in conjunction with the Law of Non-Neutrality (aka All In), choosing not to raise my teaspoon is choosing to uphold the status quo. How can I do anything but rally and teaspoon forth again?
Teaspoons ho!
Quote of the Day: American Superiority Style!
Via Bitch, Ph.D, (seriously, after you read this, go read the whole thing) on the "Not on American soil!" cries of righteous indignation coming from many on the subject of transferring/releasing Guatanamo Bay prisoners:
And, see, speaking as someone who DOES, in fact, believe in the sacredness of ground...I still agree. Because while I believe the ground is sacred, I don't believe that the ground of THIS nation, the USA, is somehow particularly or specially sacred. Our ground is sacred; but so is the ground of every other nation on earth, equally. So this rhetoric, this "Not on our soil!" bullshit, is just one more manifestation of America's fascination with itself and our national fetish for declaring ourselves the Super-Special Niftiest Nation Evar!
Because when we say "Not on our soil!", what we really mean is, "These people are too Evil to contaminate us*. But they're good enough for all the rest of you lesser nations, so here, take them!"
Fellow Americans of mine, that's enough. Can we please get over ourselves now? Pretty please?
*This is, of course, assuming that the prisoners of Guatanamo Bay who would be released are, actually, evil, and not innocents caught up in our shitstorm of overzealousness.
What is so special about American soil? What is so special about the field in Kansas, the trees in Michigan, the dirt roads of Southern Illinois that these men can not be near them? I do not believe in the sacredness of ground. I do not believe that America is God's special country that God loves more than all the other countries, and that He loves the Chesapeake Bay more than Guantanamo Bay or the Mississippi more than the Nile. Other people believe that, and they are being allowed to run our government, they are being allowed to hijack not just the public discourse but the lives and civil liberties and freedom of one hundred and ninety-six men because they think our dirt is fucking special and suddenly, anyone who does not like America or might be a criminal can not be near it. As if their subversion, their antipathy, their righteous grievances against us will travel like pixie dust through the rocks and pebbles and get in our groundwater.
And, see, speaking as someone who DOES, in fact, believe in the sacredness of ground...I still agree. Because while I believe the ground is sacred, I don't believe that the ground of THIS nation, the USA, is somehow particularly or specially sacred. Our ground is sacred; but so is the ground of every other nation on earth, equally. So this rhetoric, this "Not on our soil!" bullshit, is just one more manifestation of America's fascination with itself and our national fetish for declaring ourselves the Super-Special Niftiest Nation Evar!
Because when we say "Not on our soil!", what we really mean is, "These people are too Evil to contaminate us*. But they're good enough for all the rest of you lesser nations, so here, take them!"
Fellow Americans of mine, that's enough. Can we please get over ourselves now? Pretty please?
*This is, of course, assuming that the prisoners of Guatanamo Bay who would be released are, actually, evil, and not innocents caught up in our shitstorm of overzealousness.
8.05.2009
Neutrality Is A Lie
A few days ago, I got linked to Code Pink's Stolen Beauty Campaign, a boycott against AHAVA Dead Sea Laboratories. AHAVA is an Israeli company that makes bath and beauty products with Dead Sea mineral mud and is sold worldwide. However, while they advertise as an Israeli company and product, their production facilities and visitor's center are located in the Occupied Territory of the Palestinian West Bank. It is illegal for them to label their products as "made in Israel", though they do. Furthermore, they use the mud and resources of the West Bank in production of their products, in direct contravention of the Geneva Conventions, which forbid occupying powers from profiting from the natural resources of an occupied territory. The fourth Geneva Convention explicitly forbids an occupying power from removing the captured natural resources for its own use.
I read about the boycott and actions against AHAVA, filed it away in my "read more later when there's more time" file mentally...but I left the tab open and just worked around it. (I tend to run anywhere from a half dozen to two dozen open tabs at once, so it's not that unusual for me to leave something up for a few days.)
And then today, in perusing my morning's readings from the 80+ blogs I follow, I encountered a post on Temptalia, a makeup and beauty blog I follow. Christine (owner and blogmistress of Temptalia) had posted a review of AHAVA's body wash line. I read through it, and it was a glowing review of the product. I reread it. Where was the caution about the controversy surrounding the product? Where was it mentioned that AHAVA profits from the occupation of the Palestinian Territories, by stealing their natural resoures? There was not so much as a single footnote detailing even a hint of reservation about endorsing this apparently! great! product!
So I waded in, teaspoon held high, and posted a comment:
I'll give her credit for this: she's fast on the draw. Within ten minutes of posting that comment, which got held up in moderation since I'd included a couple of links to the Stolen Beauty Campaign, I received a response by email. I won't post it here, but the gist of it was that since Temptalia is not a political blog, she didn't wish to get into a political discussion on the issue. She wanted, she said, to remain neutral. If I wanted to reword my comment as a general educational spiel to the readership instead of as a call for her to stand up and do something, I was welcome to re-post it.
She wanted to remain neutral, she said. Neutral?
The problem is, there is no such thing as neutrality. You either support the status quo, or you challenge it. By saying "I'm neutral," by standing back and refusing to speak, you support the status quo. A refusal to act is an act of refusal. To claim neutrality is a cop-out. It's the coward's way. It is saying, "This may be a bad thing, but I am not going to involve myself. I'm going to let it happen unchallenged." If you aren't a part of the solution, you are a part of the problem. There is no third option. This is the very foundation of All In, the corollary to Teaspoon Theory, the two most basic laws by which I strive to live my life.
I responded to say I respected her wishes and would re-word and re-post my comment, but I also told her my views on neutrality.
When I returned to the post to retry my comment...I found it missing. She emailed me later to say she'd removed the post, pending further research. The power of teaspoons!
And I think, now, that I, like McCain who didn't believe in women's "health", will start putting air quotes around concepts I don't believe in. And "neutrality" is the first to get that treatment from me.
Because there is no Switzerland. "Neutrality" is a lie.
I read about the boycott and actions against AHAVA, filed it away in my "read more later when there's more time" file mentally...but I left the tab open and just worked around it. (I tend to run anywhere from a half dozen to two dozen open tabs at once, so it's not that unusual for me to leave something up for a few days.)
And then today, in perusing my morning's readings from the 80+ blogs I follow, I encountered a post on Temptalia, a makeup and beauty blog I follow. Christine (owner and blogmistress of Temptalia) had posted a review of AHAVA's body wash line. I read through it, and it was a glowing review of the product. I reread it. Where was the caution about the controversy surrounding the product? Where was it mentioned that AHAVA profits from the occupation of the Palestinian Territories, by stealing their natural resoures? There was not so much as a single footnote detailing even a hint of reservation about endorsing this apparently! great! product!
So I waded in, teaspoon held high, and posted a comment:
Christine, please don't advocate, product-push, advertise, review, whatever you want to call it, for AHAVA products. They advertise as being made in Israel, but the products are actually manufactured in a factory compound located in an illegal settlement in the Occupied Palestinian Territories, using resources stolen from Palestinian land, in direct contravention of international law. According to international public law, including the relevant UN Security Council Resolutions, the West Bank cannot be considered to be part of the State of Israel; thus, their labeling as being "made in Israel" is false and illegal. This also means AHAVA profits by stealing, manufacturing and selling resources from Palestine: because it harvests minerals from mud pulled from the Dead Sea, from the Occupied West Bank (Palestinian) land, it is technically stealing resources. The fourth Geneva Convention explicitly forbids an occupying power from removing the captured natural resources for its own use.
You have a big following, and your words can make a difference to many people. Please use this positively, to help bring attention to the illegal actions of this company, rather than approvingly reviewing the product and recommending it to your readers.
I'll give her credit for this: she's fast on the draw. Within ten minutes of posting that comment, which got held up in moderation since I'd included a couple of links to the Stolen Beauty Campaign, I received a response by email. I won't post it here, but the gist of it was that since Temptalia is not a political blog, she didn't wish to get into a political discussion on the issue. She wanted, she said, to remain neutral. If I wanted to reword my comment as a general educational spiel to the readership instead of as a call for her to stand up and do something, I was welcome to re-post it.
She wanted to remain neutral, she said. Neutral?
The problem is, there is no such thing as neutrality. You either support the status quo, or you challenge it. By saying "I'm neutral," by standing back and refusing to speak, you support the status quo. A refusal to act is an act of refusal. To claim neutrality is a cop-out. It's the coward's way. It is saying, "This may be a bad thing, but I am not going to involve myself. I'm going to let it happen unchallenged." If you aren't a part of the solution, you are a part of the problem. There is no third option. This is the very foundation of All In, the corollary to Teaspoon Theory, the two most basic laws by which I strive to live my life.
I responded to say I respected her wishes and would re-word and re-post my comment, but I also told her my views on neutrality.
When I returned to the post to retry my comment...I found it missing. She emailed me later to say she'd removed the post, pending further research. The power of teaspoons!
And I think, now, that I, like McCain who didn't believe in women's "health", will start putting air quotes around concepts I don't believe in. And "neutrality" is the first to get that treatment from me.
Because there is no Switzerland. "Neutrality" is a lie.
8.04.2009
Confronting My Privilege, Accidentally: Part 2 (Pretty)
Sometimes there are forms of privilege that you academically knew you benefited from, but you don't really *feel* them despite all the research and reading. Until something smacks you and says OH HAI, YOU HAS PRIVILEGE! Particularly situations in which you are temporarily unable to access that particular privilege, for whatever reason. I blogged about my revelations around hetero privilege recently, but right around the same time, I've been confronted by the temporary loss of another privilege I hadn't thought much about.
Pretty privilege.
It's not exactly a secret that cultures privilege varying forms of attractiveness, and that compliance with that standard ensures one access to what I refer to as pretty privilege (particularly for women, hello sexism, when did you come to play?). It comes up from time to time when studies are done that show that more "conventionally attractive" people get paid higher salaries, or are more likely to receive help when they're struggling with something in public, etc. It's a scientifically-proven form of privilege, and yet it gets little airtime in general.
I ran head-first into my pretty privilege last week, when a mini-rash developed on my left eyelid. I had a couple of odd, swollen, red, itchy bumps on the eyelid and browbone above it. As a result, I couldn't quite open that eye all the way; the lid was dragged down on the outer corner and the skin over the browbone pressed out and down over my eyelashes.
Now, I'm also uninsured. And yet my first thought, beyond "What the fuck is that...?" wasn't anything to do with doctors or clinics or how I could pay for treatment if this was something that required medication. It was: "Oh my god, I'm ugly."
Ugly. That's what worried me! I no longer fit the patriarchally-defined Beauty Standard for my culture, and that bothered me more than the potential health ramifications of a mysterious rash near my eye.
Now, even at my best* I don't entirely fit the Beauty Standard. I'm a bit fat (though I'm more of an inbetweenie than truly fat or thin), my nose is kind of long and pointy, my breasts are ginormous but not perfectly round and perky, I don't tweeze my eyebrows, I have a little bit of hair on my toes...I'm sure most women could go on and on about the things they know about themselves that fail to meet the Standard, and I'm no exception. But I fit it closely enough that I am considered pretty, in my cultural context. And until this happened, I had no idea just how much the bulk of my confidence stemmed not from genuine self-love, but from the fact that I knew damn well that I was close enough to beautiful to get away with it on a day-to-day basis. I could go about my business safe in the knowledge that my appearance would, 9 times out of 10, fall somewhere on a positive scale of approval for the people I encountered, and would thus garner me no negative reaction, no disapproval.
But with my droopy eye, when I went out that day to class and to run errands, I was terribly self-conscious. I felt like I was intruding, like I didn't have the right to be go out and be ugly at people. DAMN, had my vanity (and the accident of genetics that preceded it) left me with a humongous blind spot.
Why would I, an avowed feminist, be so invested in compliance with the patriarchal Beauty Standard? What place does that kind of vanity have in someone who seeks the downfall of the entire kyriarchy construct? Surely, I can find something truer in myself to have pride in and be confident about.
I've heard it said recently, "It's hard to fight an enemy who has outposts in your own head." Truer words were never spoken. Harsh as it is, I'm glad I've marked the location of another set of outposts to be taken down.
*I say "best" not in reference to my objective best health, but to the times when I most closely coincide with the Standard.
Pretty privilege.
It's not exactly a secret that cultures privilege varying forms of attractiveness, and that compliance with that standard ensures one access to what I refer to as pretty privilege (particularly for women, hello sexism, when did you come to play?). It comes up from time to time when studies are done that show that more "conventionally attractive" people get paid higher salaries, or are more likely to receive help when they're struggling with something in public, etc. It's a scientifically-proven form of privilege, and yet it gets little airtime in general.
I ran head-first into my pretty privilege last week, when a mini-rash developed on my left eyelid. I had a couple of odd, swollen, red, itchy bumps on the eyelid and browbone above it. As a result, I couldn't quite open that eye all the way; the lid was dragged down on the outer corner and the skin over the browbone pressed out and down over my eyelashes.
Now, I'm also uninsured. And yet my first thought, beyond "What the fuck is that...?" wasn't anything to do with doctors or clinics or how I could pay for treatment if this was something that required medication. It was: "Oh my god, I'm ugly."
Ugly. That's what worried me! I no longer fit the patriarchally-defined Beauty Standard for my culture, and that bothered me more than the potential health ramifications of a mysterious rash near my eye.
Now, even at my best* I don't entirely fit the Beauty Standard. I'm a bit fat (though I'm more of an inbetweenie than truly fat or thin), my nose is kind of long and pointy, my breasts are ginormous but not perfectly round and perky, I don't tweeze my eyebrows, I have a little bit of hair on my toes...I'm sure most women could go on and on about the things they know about themselves that fail to meet the Standard, and I'm no exception. But I fit it closely enough that I am considered pretty, in my cultural context. And until this happened, I had no idea just how much the bulk of my confidence stemmed not from genuine self-love, but from the fact that I knew damn well that I was close enough to beautiful to get away with it on a day-to-day basis. I could go about my business safe in the knowledge that my appearance would, 9 times out of 10, fall somewhere on a positive scale of approval for the people I encountered, and would thus garner me no negative reaction, no disapproval.
But with my droopy eye, when I went out that day to class and to run errands, I was terribly self-conscious. I felt like I was intruding, like I didn't have the right to be go out and be ugly at people. DAMN, had my vanity (and the accident of genetics that preceded it) left me with a humongous blind spot.
Why would I, an avowed feminist, be so invested in compliance with the patriarchal Beauty Standard? What place does that kind of vanity have in someone who seeks the downfall of the entire kyriarchy construct? Surely, I can find something truer in myself to have pride in and be confident about.
I've heard it said recently, "It's hard to fight an enemy who has outposts in your own head." Truer words were never spoken. Harsh as it is, I'm glad I've marked the location of another set of outposts to be taken down.
*I say "best" not in reference to my objective best health, but to the times when I most closely coincide with the Standard.
7.29.2009
Wednesday WTF: CNN's Definition of "Activism"
So Scott Roeder, the alleged murderer of Kansas' only abortion provider, Dr. Tiller, is set to stand trial in September. CNN chose to report this with the following headline:
W. T. F??? No. Not even fucking close. Activism means things like protesting, organizing, donating, speaking out, calling legislators, blogging, all sorts of things. One thing that is not included under activities described in the term "activism"? MURDER, you spineless whitewashing fuckwits! Also, for the record, Dr. Tiller didn't just drop dead. He was fucking MURDERED. Remember that part?
Activists don't kill people. Murderers kill people. Learn the fucking difference, CNN.
Trial set for anti-abortion activist in Kansas doctor's death
W. T. F??? No. Not even fucking close. Activism means things like protesting, organizing, donating, speaking out, calling legislators, blogging, all sorts of things. One thing that is not included under activities described in the term "activism"? MURDER, you spineless whitewashing fuckwits! Also, for the record, Dr. Tiller didn't just drop dead. He was fucking MURDERED. Remember that part?
Activists don't kill people. Murderers kill people. Learn the fucking difference, CNN.
7.25.2009
Confronting My Privilege, Accidentally: Part 1 (Het'ro)
This past week I signed my name onto the National Marriage Boycott: "We won't, until we all can." I spent $10 to support the cause by buying a Marriage Boycott ring, a black band with silver lettering reading "EQUALITY" around it, to be worn on the left ring finger in place of (or if you're already married, in addition to) a wedding band. The idea is that, by signing on and wearing the ring, we pledge to not take advantage of the privilege of marriage until it is truly a right accessible to all Americans.
Anyone who knows me well, knows I'm not the marrying sort anyway. I laugh when people ask when TNBF and I (together for five years now) are getting married, and if they persist, I start to lay out all my issues with the institution of marriage - patriarchal tradition of property rights and inheritance, none of which is really relevant to me - until they back off. When Lieutenant would introduce me to his friends as "My buddy's wife", I would always stop the conversation and correct him. (And isn't it fun, how a vehemently anti-marriage stance goes over in military company...) So it's not like I was planning to get married, now or ever.
But I *could*. If I chose to marry one of my male Others, that is. As a bisexual cis woman, dating two hetero cis men and one bisexual cis woman, I could marry either of my boyfriends but not my girlfriend (considerations of polyamory and who's already engaged to who aside). I *could* benefit from an extension of hetero privilege. It's never occurred to me to do so, but the possibility exists. Until I signed the boycott, that is.
And when I did...I was startled by how much that affected me. I hadn't realized how deeply the option of marriage was ingrained into my psyche, as a woman who dates men, until I voluntarily removed myself from that option. Until now, I didn't want to wed, but if I changed my mind the option was always there. But there have been several times over the past few days that I would be letting my mind wander, think something about "If I got married..." and suddenly stop myself, mentally noting that until marriage equality is achieved that isn't an option for me anymore.
I hadn't realized how much I still relied on hetero privilege until then. I self-identify as queer, as more-or-less bisexual, and have my entire adult life. But the way my life has worked out, there has been no point in my dating that I have not been dating a man. I have dated women as well, but not exclusively. So I have, at all times, had access to hetero privilege. I have always had the option of drawing on that, if I wanted to, and that has shaped my entire way of approaching the world.
Confronting privilege is never easy, never fun, but I'm glad I backed myself into this corner and made myself acknowledge that particular privilege, no matter how accidentally.
Anyone who knows me well, knows I'm not the marrying sort anyway. I laugh when people ask when TNBF and I (together for five years now) are getting married, and if they persist, I start to lay out all my issues with the institution of marriage - patriarchal tradition of property rights and inheritance, none of which is really relevant to me - until they back off. When Lieutenant would introduce me to his friends as "My buddy's wife", I would always stop the conversation and correct him. (And isn't it fun, how a vehemently anti-marriage stance goes over in military company...) So it's not like I was planning to get married, now or ever.
But I *could*. If I chose to marry one of my male Others, that is. As a bisexual cis woman, dating two hetero cis men and one bisexual cis woman, I could marry either of my boyfriends but not my girlfriend (considerations of polyamory and who's already engaged to who aside). I *could* benefit from an extension of hetero privilege. It's never occurred to me to do so, but the possibility exists. Until I signed the boycott, that is.
And when I did...I was startled by how much that affected me. I hadn't realized how deeply the option of marriage was ingrained into my psyche, as a woman who dates men, until I voluntarily removed myself from that option. Until now, I didn't want to wed, but if I changed my mind the option was always there. But there have been several times over the past few days that I would be letting my mind wander, think something about "If I got married..." and suddenly stop myself, mentally noting that until marriage equality is achieved that isn't an option for me anymore.
I hadn't realized how much I still relied on hetero privilege until then. I self-identify as queer, as more-or-less bisexual, and have my entire adult life. But the way my life has worked out, there has been no point in my dating that I have not been dating a man. I have dated women as well, but not exclusively. So I have, at all times, had access to hetero privilege. I have always had the option of drawing on that, if I wanted to, and that has shaped my entire way of approaching the world.
Confronting privilege is never easy, never fun, but I'm glad I backed myself into this corner and made myself acknowledge that particular privilege, no matter how accidentally.
7.24.2009
If A Feminist Falls In The Woods...Is Falling A Feminist Act?
Recently I’ve gotten into a few heated exchanges on Feministing.com over my habit of critically discussing other people’s choices – particularly, other feminist-identified people’s choices. And in doing so, I’ve run up against an odd kind of group-think that I haven’t encountered much before. It goes like this: If a feminist chooses to do something, that thing is automatically a feminist act. To question the choices of a fellow feminist is to question her dedication to feminism itself, which is utterly out of bounds for a discussion between self-identified feminists. Or something like that.
I first noticed this on a thread about makeup and choosing to wear it or not. The original post was on Feministing Community, wherein the feminist in question said that she didn’t see why she had to give up wearing makeup in order to be a feminist, and that she liked wearing makeup. I posted something to the effect of, “You don’t have to give up wearing makeup to be feminist. There are a lot of feminists who wear makeup. In general, I view the wearing of makeup as adhering to the patriarchally-defined Beauty Standard, and thus an unfeminist act. However, I understand that 1: there are multiple ways to use makeup, and not all of them are for the purposes of meeting the Beauty Standard; 2: It is often advantageous to live in compliance with the Beauty Standard (after all, if there were no social reinforcement for the behavior there’d be no reason to do it) so it can make sense to choose to do so despite one’s principles, and 3: I myself wear makeup often, usually as a compliance measure, so I’m not saying you can’t or that I judge you for doing it. However, I would say that if you choose to wear makeup in a way that seeks compliance with the Beauty Standard, you should think critically about why you’re doing it and the implications of your decision.”
…and a shitstorm ensued. You’d think I had suggested that all feminists must get breast implants in order to attract more men to feminism, or something equally outrageous! I was piled-on by commenters chastising me for “judging” the OP. My comment was misrepresented repeatedly and I was attacked for saying things I had never, in fact, said. I replied by clarifying my comments, emphasizing that I wasn’t judging the OP for her choice, and again saying that I just felt we should think about what patriarchal structures our decisions may play into, without ever saying we MUST decide one way or another based on that assessment. All I was arguing was that we should think critically about the issue and make informed decisions. Is that such a sin?
Apparently, it is. Just try to say, particularly to the crowd at Feministing, that you think a feminist *shouldn’t* do something, and watch what happens. Any attempt to critically discuss a feminist’s choices – even if you carefully say that you’re not trying to actually stop her from doing what she wants – is automatically viewed as an attack on her person and her feminism.
So what constitutes a feminist act, then? Is the only criteria that it is something done by a feminist? Can non-feminists undertake feminist acts? Can a feminist undertake an anti-feminist or un-feminist act?
A feminist act, to me, is simply an act that promotes gender equality and seeks to undermine, overthrow, or otherwise disobey the dictates of the patriarchy we struggle against. An un-feminist act is one that upholds the patriarchal status quo, and an anti-feminist act is one that actively promotes patriarchy or denigrates feminism.
My father would never call himself a feminist in a million years, but if he called out a rape joke someone made in his presence and told the person making it why that wasn’t cool, I would count that a feminist act. I am a feminist and have identified as so for years, and yet I am conscious of the fact that, when I shave my legs and put on makeup to enhance my features and dress fashionably and do my hair and show off my cleavage to advantage because it makes my life easier, I am undertaking un-feminist (though not anti-feminist) acts that indicate my acceptance of patriarchal dictates on the subject of personal appearance for women. I accept that, and own that choice.
Everyone has to make their own choices. I won’t judge a feminist for choosing to undertake un-feminist acts, or try to stop her. After all, realpolitik is the rule of the world. Purists and idealists don’t usually get very far. However, it is a dangerous kind of group-think to be unwilling to ever criticize the actions of a group member. We must take responsibility for the choices we make, and sheltering ourselves from critical analysis is no way to do that.
I first noticed this on a thread about makeup and choosing to wear it or not. The original post was on Feministing Community, wherein the feminist in question said that she didn’t see why she had to give up wearing makeup in order to be a feminist, and that she liked wearing makeup. I posted something to the effect of, “You don’t have to give up wearing makeup to be feminist. There are a lot of feminists who wear makeup. In general, I view the wearing of makeup as adhering to the patriarchally-defined Beauty Standard, and thus an unfeminist act. However, I understand that 1: there are multiple ways to use makeup, and not all of them are for the purposes of meeting the Beauty Standard; 2: It is often advantageous to live in compliance with the Beauty Standard (after all, if there were no social reinforcement for the behavior there’d be no reason to do it) so it can make sense to choose to do so despite one’s principles, and 3: I myself wear makeup often, usually as a compliance measure, so I’m not saying you can’t or that I judge you for doing it. However, I would say that if you choose to wear makeup in a way that seeks compliance with the Beauty Standard, you should think critically about why you’re doing it and the implications of your decision.”
…and a shitstorm ensued. You’d think I had suggested that all feminists must get breast implants in order to attract more men to feminism, or something equally outrageous! I was piled-on by commenters chastising me for “judging” the OP. My comment was misrepresented repeatedly and I was attacked for saying things I had never, in fact, said. I replied by clarifying my comments, emphasizing that I wasn’t judging the OP for her choice, and again saying that I just felt we should think about what patriarchal structures our decisions may play into, without ever saying we MUST decide one way or another based on that assessment. All I was arguing was that we should think critically about the issue and make informed decisions. Is that such a sin?
Apparently, it is. Just try to say, particularly to the crowd at Feministing, that you think a feminist *shouldn’t* do something, and watch what happens. Any attempt to critically discuss a feminist’s choices – even if you carefully say that you’re not trying to actually stop her from doing what she wants – is automatically viewed as an attack on her person and her feminism.
So what constitutes a feminist act, then? Is the only criteria that it is something done by a feminist? Can non-feminists undertake feminist acts? Can a feminist undertake an anti-feminist or un-feminist act?
A feminist act, to me, is simply an act that promotes gender equality and seeks to undermine, overthrow, or otherwise disobey the dictates of the patriarchy we struggle against. An un-feminist act is one that upholds the patriarchal status quo, and an anti-feminist act is one that actively promotes patriarchy or denigrates feminism.
My father would never call himself a feminist in a million years, but if he called out a rape joke someone made in his presence and told the person making it why that wasn’t cool, I would count that a feminist act. I am a feminist and have identified as so for years, and yet I am conscious of the fact that, when I shave my legs and put on makeup to enhance my features and dress fashionably and do my hair and show off my cleavage to advantage because it makes my life easier, I am undertaking un-feminist (though not anti-feminist) acts that indicate my acceptance of patriarchal dictates on the subject of personal appearance for women. I accept that, and own that choice.
Everyone has to make their own choices. I won’t judge a feminist for choosing to undertake un-feminist acts, or try to stop her. After all, realpolitik is the rule of the world. Purists and idealists don’t usually get very far. However, it is a dangerous kind of group-think to be unwilling to ever criticize the actions of a group member. We must take responsibility for the choices we make, and sheltering ourselves from critical analysis is no way to do that.
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