no longer home

I went to an all women's college. This is important.

I experienced my first year, poli-sci 101, "holy shit, it's all a lie!" political awakening in the wake of 9/11. I do not intend to downplay the significance of that event by using it as a backdrop for my own, nascent sort-of-radicalness, but this is important, too.

And for me, it was backdrop. I wasn't directly affected. I understood the pain and horror of that event the only way one so far removed can - through a lens, through a filter, through as much empathy as one can stand before bleeding from the ears. My awareness was nothing but a faint echo, a shadow, a vague unease.

Campus was quiet. People were slow and sad and lonely and worried and scared. And when the quiet faded, and the rage kicked in, I watched classmates and discussion partners and news outlets turn rabid. My first tears were not for the victims of the attack, but for a hallmate who suggested, on multiple occaisions, that we should "bomb them all" - referring to whom, exactly, I'm not sure - she was just referring to that other, that them.

what do I say? (TW for fat hatred)

My parents just returned yesterday from a week-and-then-some trip to Yellowstone with my maternal grandmother. I picked them up from the airport around 4:30 PM. A few initial pleasantries got us out of the airport, but once we hit the highway, the conversation turned to dinner.

Dad: "What do you want to eat for dinner, Mom?"

Grandmother: "I don't even...all we do is talk about food! Where do you want to go, what do you want, blah blah blah. All we did the whole time was eat and talk about food! I don't want to talk about food."

(Background: My mother and father are fat. I am fat. My grandmother is not. She is one of the very few people in family who are not fat. My mother, her sisters, my cousins - almost everyone except my grandmother is fat.)

My mother is getting that tense thing in the back of her neck. I am driving, and she's in the back seat, but I can feel it, because I do it, too.

why I am not taking any more business classes (part one)

I took this class - "Human Relations" last year. It was one on a list of several business classes I intended to take, knowing that it would please my management and hoping it might grant me more skill in navigating the political minefield that is corporate America. I wrote this right before the class had ended, but I think it bears posting here.

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This textbook, for the record, is a fucking joke. Behold: several of its most ridiculous quotes. I acknowledge that these are taken out of context. Believe me, or don't, when I say that the context doesn't really improve them much.

"Pinstripes may make you appear as though you are trying to imitate male apparel." (141) So might pants, apparently, because they aren't even mentioned as an option.

"Men at work tend to talk to preserve independence and status in an organizational hierarchical social order. Women tend to talk for closeness to develop relationships, in which people seek and give confirmation and support." (160) Well that just about explains everything, doesn't it? Maybe if the women weren't so busy making friends, they could get some damn work done!

"Research supports that women are more emotional than men." (209) No citation, mind you.

"Off and often on the job...men are more willing than women to say directly what is important to them and state their expectations. Women generally trust that the other person will anticipate what's important to them without having to state their expectations." (304)

"Women [should] not date coworkers or other people in their industry, because if they do, they will be viewed as someone's girlfriend rather than a serious businessperson." (568) I find it amusing that here, and throughout the book, the author consistently uses "-person" terms, as if that makes up for the blatant stereotyping and double-standards.

"Women who perceive they will have problems managing solely because of their sex may be creating a self-fulfilling prophecy." (573) Because sexism is dead! Right?

I am, of course, not even getting into the two paragraphs of parenting advice, but I will leave you with this little tidbit:

"So, the question today is not, Will most mothers work outside the home? The question is, Will she leave work to raise children, and if so, for how long?"

Really, is that the question? Silly me. I thought the question was, How the fuck did you get this piece of shit published?

Published in 2008, that is.

Don't grind your teeth like that, gentle reader. It might give you a headache.

Good morning!

I have been rather lax in updating this blog - the best of my ranting seems to get used sitting out on the balcony over cocktails, waiting for the oppressive heat to drain away from the day.

That said, a new post will be up by the end of the week. Thanks to Shakesville, I've had some lovely readers stop by, and I'd love for them to have something else to read.

Sunday morning rape apology

Good afternoon, hypothetical readers!

This morning I learned something that I wanted to share. My family includes at least two antifeminist rape apologists!

I know you're jealous, and would love some rape apologists of your very own, so that you might also be berated and screamed at for your ignorance. In hopes of sating this desire, I present some of the highlights of our exchange.

The setting is my parent's living room, in which just moments before my mother and I had discussed cuticle maintenance. Just riveting, I know. The conversation migrated, slowly, as pesky conversations are wont to do, and we ended in the realm of bars.

Dark, until recently smokey, loud, crowded establishments in which people interact and sometimes those interactions are less than pleasant, right? Sometimes some asshole will, for example, touch other people in a way that is invasive, rude, inappropriate, etc.

"Well, that's to be expected, I think," my mother says, in her way of being so much wiser than I am because I am after all just the ignorant spawn.

Red flag. BIG ONE. In my face, flying about. "Oh, no." I say. "Let's not go here. This is a hot button issue for me."

late night thoughts (or, of course we can't eliminate patriarchy. and?)

This probably is obvious and silly to quite a lot of people. But I, in grand and selfish form, am not writing for quite a lot of people. I am writing for me, in order to puzzle out all sorts of vague and theoretical ideas for my very own self.

So here is the question, which I might ask a hypothetical radfem, who would hypothetically think I was silly and out of my league, and that perhaps I ought to just put on some more lipstick and continue furthering the interests of The Man, Inc., and meanwhile stop asking stupid questions and let her get back to her Important Business.

This is, like I said, hypothetical. No offense intended to anyone who does think I am silly, or asking stupid questions, or who must return to their Important Business. Please, return to it.

Ahem.

Now that we're quite alone, I ask:

If patriarchy is everything, if it determines everything and controls everything and none of us really has any agency and none of us can really escape or even have any concept of what it might be like outside of patriarchy or how we might make the world better because everything we do is just contributing to the system, like some evil feedback loop, then what the fuck are you doing?

Yes, that's it. I said it. What are you doing, hypothetical radfem? Spreading the anti-gospel that we're all in a world of shit, have always been, always will be? Convincing others that we're totally SOL and nothing can possibly ever change that?

Why?

Isn't everything you are doing, your activism and writing and reading and thinking and walking your dog on a bright Spring morning, part of that system? It's a secular predestination doctrine, isn't it? If nothing matters, then nothing matters. Not even telling me that nothing matters. Not even being right, or changing laws, or anything. At all. Because we have no power and no way of getting it.

Now I want you to understand, hypothetical reader (regardless of your radness) that I am ohsotempted by this kind of reasoning. Friends and family wail and gnash teeth, or at least leave the room, when I start in on this type of thing, because they know it might go on for HOURS. Nothing matters. I am a speck of dust. We are at the mercy of forces larger than ourselves. I am sad, lonely, and emo. Etc.

So, if patriarchy = gravity, a powerful and inescapable force, then what?

Well, then, I suppose, whether or not something is truly feminist and liberated is utterly beside the point, because nothing is. Then, I suppose, we must create a new kind of measure for our activism, our creative work, and our lives. We must ask new questions.

If we cannot ask, "is this act sufficiently feminist?" perhaps we might ask, "is there a way to make this situation better? is there a way to harm fewer people? to help more? to create more joy than pain? to make someone smile?"

We could ask, "can I contribute in a way that is meaningful to me? that will brighten my day, or my life? can I build something I might be proud of? can I create memories that I want to carry with me?"

Maybe these are the questions we should have been asking all along?

Hypothetical radfem is displeased, perhaps - "but you are merely a tool!" she says. "You are not empowered! You are not free!"

And neither are you. And neither is anyone. And so, perhaps there isn't really much use in discussing it anymore. Would you like some wine?

10 reasons why I don't really know what I think about Iceland's strip club law

So, Iceland passed a law banning strip clubs, which "will make it illegal for any business to profit from the nudity of its employees."

When I first read the headline, I thought, "Hmmm." And then I read this quote by Kolbrún Halldórsdóttir: "It is not acceptable that women or people in general are a product to be sold," and I thought, Right. The fuck. On.

And then I headed over to Feministe, and read Jill's take, and I actually started thinking. Because, really, isn't this kind of the Central Debate of Our Day. Or any day? Isn' t this a Big Divisive Feminist Question? Even in my own head, it's a Big Divisive Question. And even if you know why, I'll tell you why anyway.

1) Because I am skeptical of laws that limit personal freedoms. At least in theory. I think we should trust people to be able to make their own decisions. I am concerned by laws that tell you what you can and cannot do with your body. I am concerned with the idea that women are just always victims, and categorically unable to make choices.

2) Because I am aware how often the "person freedom" schtik is used to support abusive, exploitative, power-hungry, victimizing people, organizations, and practices. Personal freedom means little to a lot of people. Personal freedom is money. It belongs to the people with the money and it is their prerogative to share it, or not.

3) Because I don't know where the line is between my right to self-determination and social good. Because there is a line; there has to be - if you deny that you're an absolute anarchist. We must all, to a greater or lesser extent, consent to have our freedoms limited if we are to live in a society, for the good of that society. Blasphemy, I know.

4) Because I am not a sex-worker, and never have been, and am perhaps not likely to be, and so any of my ideas or theories are necessarily based on second, third, or tenth-hand information, and therefore anything I have to say is really not at all relevant.

5) Because I hate the "you're not a real feminist because..." arguments, even if I join them sometimes. Because I hate the privilege inherent in saying, "that's not good for you, trust me I know." Because I don't know, and neither does anyone else who isn't you. Because I think that in a world that doesn't respect or honor individuals, that doesn't really often listen to them, we need to listen to them.

6) Because making sex work of any kind illegal is, to me, kind of beside the point. Because if you want to make sex work illegal because (you assume) women are forced into it due to poverty and addiction, you are not actually fixing the problems of poverty and addiction. You are, in fact, maybe making them worse by removing one potential method of income for some women. If you want to make it illegal because it's not safe, you're not actually making women safe. Because you're assuming, somehow, that sex work is the cause of the lack of safety, that the behavior of the women is the problem, that violence just happens, that it grows organically next to sex work in some kind of natural symbiosis, you're taking the perpetrators out of the equation entirely. AND because making it illegal probably won't stop it.

7) Because it's hard for me to accept that we are going to encourage any sort of gender equality in a society in which the unspoken last resort of women is to sell their bodies, in which women bought and sold and on display is just part of daily life, in which the constant message is that we're valuable first and foremost for our bodies, for what we can provide, for how available we are to eyes and hands and other things.

8) Because we live in an increasingly global world, and even if one suddenly found NO representations or realities of objectified women in Iceland, it wouldn't fix anything. Those representations and realities are everywhere else. Because I don't know how taking away those representations will actually change the minds of the people who make up culture, of the people who buy and sell and create and destroy and write the scripts, for all of us, all the time.

9) Because, as Jill writes, "at the end of the day you can’t regulate or legislate respect."

10) Because patriarchy is like air. It's everywhere, in everything, it not only permeates the atmosphere it IS the atmosphere. There is nothing separate from it, nothing that can really escape or live in isolation from it. I believe this. I didn't used to. Advertising, books, movies, history, music, religion, fashion, humor, wars, resources, politics, business, street names, social systems...it's like air. And therefore nothing we do can really be apart from it, and none of us can really be immune. It doesn't matter what we do.

On that nihilistic note, I suppose I will end.