Stop Acting So Crazy!

Today, a friend or two on Facebook posted this article on their wall, and I immediately needed to share it. This is an article written by a man explaining how men in our society have been socialized to treat women's normal emotions (anger, frustration, sadness, etc.) as "crazy" and "irrational," you know, because emotions are just so feminine. Since the article is titled "A Message to Women From A Man: You Are Not 'Crazy,' " you can guess where the author's opinions lie.

This article is so refreshing! It's really great to see a man understanding, and speaking out about, the deeply ingrained misogyny in our society (and though I know it happens, I still love seeing a man openly identifying as a feminist). Many men (though I am not saying all), even those who see themselves as progressive and forward-thinking, tend to fall back on this kind of reaction to women's emotions.



Men and women have been socialized to feel and express emotion totally different.** Women are taught to be passive, more in touch with their "feminine" emotions and their expressions (like feeling sad and then crying) while men are taught to "man up" and express as little emotion as possible. So it makes sense that men see women's emotional reactions as abnormal or different (just like when women don't understand men's seeming lack of emotion). Any one man by himself is not at fault for not understanding a woman's emotions at any given time.

The problem really comes in with the way our culture created and reinforces the idea that women's reactions are not just different from men's, but "crazy" and "irrational." How many movies have you seen where a man discusses his "crazy" ex-girlfriend who constantly "freaked" out about nothing? This stereotype associates natural emotion with mental illness, instability, and illogical thinking. It's a terrible way to think about the women of the world (and a terrible stereotype that undermines and ignores the many, many people of the world who have mental illness and can cope and lead stable lives).

I would write more about this, but honestly, the article that inspired this post is written so well, I really suggest you read it in its entirety. However, don't read the comments after; surprise, surprise, they are filled with misogynist reactions attempting to undermine the author's piece.



**I would just like to point out that when I discuss men's emotions and women's emotions as categories, I am talking about two things: 1. the way these gender groups are socialized to feel and express emotions and 2. the way that members of each of these gender groups tend to express emotions. I recognize that every person feels and expresses emotion differently, and many people may not fit solidly into one, or either, of these categories. I am simply using the categories as they are used in society to reinforce these stereotypes.



Update: Just discovered this follow-up to the original article. Here he specifically responds to the misogynistic comments the first post received. I love it!! I think I'm gonna start following this blog.

The Fab Five: Representation Revolution or Standard Stereotypes?

When it was on air, I loved the 2003 Bravo reality show Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. Loved. For one thing, it was so exciting to see gay men on TV, and not only were they accepted by everyone they worked with,  but they were also the authority on the show: they were more knowledgable because they were gay! This was pretty new.

Looking at films and TV shows, gay characters definitely have more representation than ever; but does any representation mean good representation? In many movies today, especially light movies like romantic comedies, the "gay best friend" is often present. (A gay man of course; because we all know that lesbians are butch, and don't like feminine things like fashion and shopping, and therefore are not useful to straight women.) Does this really represent gay men? Of course not, it's based on a stereotype and is not helpful to the gay community. I remember being in middle school/high school and saying "I really need a gay best friend." But did I really want a friend? Or a gossiping and shopping sidekick? As someone in a class of mine put it, the gay man has become, in popular culture, a necessary accessory for every straight girl. No real depth, no well-rounded interests, just shopping and gossiping and makeovers. And witty comments.



Recently, I thought about Queer Eye for the first time in a long time. When writing my previous post on Chaz Bono, I mentioned Carson Kressley, another current contestant on Dancing with the Stars, and former star of Queer Eye, which got me thinking about it. The show was a favorite of mine once upon a time. But even though I loved the show, I have to wonder: was it just perpetuating the sassy-gay-best-friend-who-loves-to-shop-and-is-a-necessary-accessory-for-every-straight-girl stereotype?

Let's break it down: a typical make-over (though they called it a "make-better") show with gay men as the authorities. The "Fab Five" consisted of Carson (fashion guru), Ted (food and wine), Thom (interior design), Kyan (grooming), and Jay (culture vulture (the most vague job on the show!)). Each queer man helped the straight guy (though later, I just learned, the show expanded to "making better" women and gay men) with an aspect of his life. The gay men were also at varying levels of, what shall we say?, flamboyance. I always appreciated that aspect of the show; they weren't all stereotypes with high pitched voices, squealing and talking about fashion dos and don'ts. Kyan was the one we always referred to as the "straight one;" he didn't look or dress like a stereotypical gay man, he had a deep voice, he didn't squeal, etc. Ted and Thom also came across as less stereotypical or flamboyant than Jay and especially Carson.

For starters, the difference in personalities made for non-stereotypical gay personas. And, in the context of the show, the gay men were more than merely accessories, they were authorities. The show was both dealing in, and playing with, the stereotype that gay men know more about fashion and grooming than straight men. The gay men came in and told the straight men how to dress, decorate their homes, cook, etc. But they weren't all about making the men "fabulous;" often, they were focused on making the men neater, healthier, more professional/adult looking and dressing, and more well-rounded in their hobbies/ interests (culture vulture alert!).

What I also liked about this show was that many of the show's participants seemed to be uncomfortable with the gay men at the beginning of each episode. While I'm guessing that outright homophobia might have disqualified men from being contestants, there were plenty of standard heterosexual male "they can be gay as long as they don't hit on me/ touch me/ make me see it" attitudes that usually seemed to disappear by the end of the episode. Now, maybe this was scripted in, but even if it was, I still liked it. It sent an outright message to viewers: Spending time with actual, and varied, homosexuals can break down homophobia and discomfort, and lead to better understanding. Cheesy? Sure. But needed in our culture and on our TVs? Definitely!

While the overall premise of the show seems to be a stereotype, my conclusion is that this show was still great, and the content of the episodes was much more complex than simple cliches. I still love it and would love to re-watch it (while doing research for this post, I tried to find some episodes to rewatch online, but I couldn't! Bravo, if you're reading this, please fix this!). I think Queer Eye was still pretty groundbreaking in its featuring of gay men on TV, and in the accepting and loving way in which they were portrayed.

Contradictions Galore!: My Thoughts on The Help

Lately, the movie The Help has been on everyone’s minds and most everyone’s websites. Some are praising it as a great film, some are condemning it as another “white person’s civil rights film,” or, as a commenter on Bitch magazine’s blog put it, “racist garbage,” and most others are saying it falls somewhere in between. I’ve gone back and forth, originally more in defense of the book and film than not (though always aware that it is problematic) but looking at some well written reviews today, more of the problems were pointed out than I originally noticed. **spoiler alert**

I want to say first that I enjoyed this movie. Aware that I have white privilege, I wasn’t struck by any horrific, racist or anti-feminist moments/themes/ideas right off the bat (I did pause over Minny’s obsession with fried chicken, it seemed so stereotypical, but then I thought that just because it’s a stereotype doesn’t mean it can’t ever be true, right? And many of us Southerners, black and white, love fried chicken!) The movie made me laugh several times, and actually made me cry once. And I would tell anyone, no matter how problematic/racist/silly you might think it is, the film is worth it for Viola Davis’s performance. It’s absolutely incredible. She’s a fabulous actress (stole the film Doubt while having only seven or so minutes onscreen) and she deserves praise for her performance. She completely inhabits all the contradiction of her character: loving the children she raises, hating the women who hire her, enjoying making fun of the white women when with other black women, feeling constant pain and bitterness since her son’s death, and many more. So, I think it’s entirely possible to enjoy this film while staying aware of the issues (though I do kind of wish I had waited for DVD instead of adding to the box office results).

            

Now, the problems. I admit, I did not notice all of these originally; some I didn’t think about until reading other reviews. First, while everyone has been praising the film for portraying well-rounded, three-dimensional female charaters (white and black) this isn’t really the case. The (black) maids all tend to be slightly plump or overweight while the white women are all thin and attractive. Yes, the white women are taking the time to do their hair and make-up while the black women may not be, but that doesn’t exactly size and shape, does it? The black women do seem to be physically filling the “Mammy” stereotype, even if their personalities aren’t. And, come on, I’ve grown up around Southern women and Southern food; all those white women wouldn’t be that thin, even if they are in bridge club and Junior League. No way.

            

Also, the male characters are a problem. Both the film and the novel focus mainly on the female characters, with all the men relegated to side roles (Stuart’s role may be a little bigger than that, as he is a love interest). In the film, the black men are completely absent; we only hear about Leroy, Minny’s husband, and in one weird scene he comes in yelling and clearly about to beat her but he is never actually seen by the camera (a scene that seemed so strange when I was watching the film; why didn’t they just show him?). But in both the film and the novel, the black men fit into the stereotypes of absent fathers, abusive husbands and lazy good-for-nothings. And the white men? College educated, polite, supportive. Now, of course, white and black men at this time had very different opportunities for money and education, and this made a difference for them in lots of ways. But it didn’t make all black men abusive and all white men upstanding citizens. Why do none of the maids have a husband who helps support the family and struggles through the civil rights movement with his wife? Why don’t the white women have any husband troubles, be it over money, children, mistresses, abuse, alcohol, or anything? (You might say that Celia Foote has husband trouble, but that’s not really true because she just thinks she does; once he knows everything, he is completely supportive.)

           

I especially have a problem with Stuart and Skeeter’s relationship. Stuart is nice enough, and Skeeter really seems to fall for him, but, as expected, their relationship falls apart when she has reveals that she wrote the book on black women and their jobs as maids (in the novel, the relationship is already falling apart by this point, but this moment is still the most crucial). As a reader, I was expecting this scene, and in fact anticipating it; I was ready for Skeeter to face someone (white) head-on with her views and stand strong. But she doesn’t!!! In both the book and the film, she’s just crying, sad that he’s ending their relationship. To me, this seems completely out of character. She’s just spent so much time on this book, working in secret, risking some danger for herself and much more for the black women, it’s finally been published, and people are reading it. She’s done what she wanted to do, and I expected her to dismiss anyone unwilling to support her. Instead, she just pouts over Stuart’s exit (again, it especially bothered me in the novel, because with their relationship headed downhill, I wanted her to end it sooner). It seemed out of character, it seemed out of place, and I just didn’t understand it. She went through all this to get published and isn’t willing to speak out for it?

            

Then there’s the implication in the film that all women’s issues are similar and comparable. They’re not. Everyone has problems, yes, and everyone has a right to feel however they need to feel about their problems. Just because I know there are children living in countries where wars are being fought who witness death everyday doesn’t mean I’ll be any less sad when my grandmother dies. And I shouldn’t have to be; I have a right to grieve. However, when it comes to a film/novel about white women and black women in 1960s America, the problems are not equal. I don’t feel as bad for Celia as I do for Minny. They do have different problems: Celia is dealing with several lost pregnancies, a lack of friends and social standing, and a fear of her husband; Minny is dealing with finding and keeping employment, supporting her family, and keeping herself and her children protected. But ultimately, Celia has money when Minny doesn’t, and her fear of her husband is totally unfounded; he’s a really nice guy. Now, if we saw a white woman and a black woman both dealing with similar issues (death of a loved one, abusive husband, etc.) it might become more about women dealing with their problems together, race aside. But that scenario is not presented. Instead, the white women’s problems are mainly (not completely) much smaller than the black women’s.

Are you tired yet? Well, now, for the things I liked. I did like that it’s a film about women, and about women accomplishing something. Emma Stone said, “It’s not really a story about racism. It’s a story about three women coming together to make an extraordinary positive change.” We certainly need movies like that, movies that put women at the forefront, working together and making a difference, without men playing a central role.

          

I also personally liked the portrayal of the contradictory relationships between black maid/white child/white mother. Aibileen loves the little girl she’s caring for, Mae Mobley, and she does her best to teach her to see people as people without color. She also does her best to support this little girl whose mother gives her no encouragement, and seems to be embarrassed by her child’s chubbiness and lack of cuteness. Aibileen, on the other hand, constantly reminds the child, “You are smart. You are kind. You are important.” I grew up in the South in the 1990s, and this stuff rings true with me. Not the absent mother part, just the relationship with a black caretaker. The woman who watched me and my sisters after school every day still knows which foods I like and don’t like; my paternal grandmother does not (and never has). These relationships exist. The problem comes when the portrayal of these relationships makes them out to be the only relationships of the black women. The movie seems to try to show an outside life for the black women: we know about Aibileen’s dead son and how that loss changed her, and we see Minny’s home life and children. But the movie still puts these white relationships at the center of their lives.

This post is incredibly long. But there’s been so much talk about the film, and I’ve read so many conflicting opinions, that I had to get all my contradictory opinions about it out in the open. At the end of the day, I think the film is worth seeing for two reasons: 1) for Viola Davis’ performance and 2) in order to critically analyze a hugely popular film that may not be presenting its “issues” in the best way. After all, as one of the many reviews/blogs/comments I’ve read online recently said, the problem is not really that the movie exists; the problem is that this movie is the one that gets mainstream attention and funding, instead of those written by/made by black women that portray a black woman’s perspective. 

Y'all Come Back Now!! (ugh)

Warning: I'm going to stray from feminism a little bit.

As previously stated, I've been re-reading The Devil Wears Prada for some light, easy summer reading; however, it's not as easy as I'd hoped. Lauren Weisberger, the author, and/or Andi Sachs, the main character, are total haters of the South! The main character is literally disgusted by the fact that her sister married a Texan, and even more disgusted by the fact that her sister has picked up a bit of a Southern accent after living in Texas, with a Southern man, for several years. The character talks about actually cringing every time her brother-in-law speaks. Seriously? I know that I've grown up around Southern accents, but I can't imagine why it's any more cringe-worthy than any other accent (or why any accent is cringe-worthy, for that matter).

Later in the book, Andi has to work at a party full of Southern guests. Very wealthy guests. She describes the rich guests as women with big-hair and tackily, over-applied make-up. Again: seriously? Is this the only image of Southerners (or rich Southerners) out there? And she doesn't even choose one character to note that not all Southerners fit any stereotypes (she reluctantly admits that her brother-in-law is nice, but this is followed by the cringing remark, so it doesn't count in my book). I hate to think that this is how people unfamiliar with the South still think of us but I think it really might be.

Women are trying to move past stereotypes of virgin/whore, passive, emotional, etc. Racial and ethnic minorities continue to fight against hundreds of offensive stereotypes. GLBT groups and people are fighting against narrow-minded, 2-dimensional representations of themselves in the media. Why aren't we Southerners fighting against the images of us as stupid, red-neck, hick, tacky and unsophisticated people? Just like any other stereotypes, these images have actual effects on our day-to-day lives (like when my mother gave a formal, professional presentation for work, and a man on the panel could only tell her how impressed he was that she, a Southern woman, was able to speak quickly and articulate!).

I know this has nothing to do with feminism, but what can I say? Today I'm not angry as a feminist.
I'm angry as a Southerner.

Work Dress

Today, I tried to wear actual business attire to work today, at least, casual, 90-degree Mississippi heat business attire. I wore slacks, a V-neck shirt with a camisole underneath and ..... heels! 2 and a half inch heels. I guess in the grand scheme of things, 2 and a half inches aren't a huge deal (I'm reading my guilty pleasure summer book, The Devil Wears Prada, and there's constant mention of four inch Stilettos) but for a girl who wears flip-flops and sandals, and tennis shoes if absolutely necessary, these heels were a big deal. And they were even pretty comfortable. I don't stand up all day so I was never in pain or anything. But still, it makes me wonder, why do women have to dress this way? Even working in a casual, small office (there are three of us, and this week it's only two), I still felt compelled to try to amp up my business clothing. And the other woman who works there was wearing heels today, and I think does on many days. We have to walk up 26 steps to get to work, after crossing a very uneven gravel parking lot. We have to walk back and forth, to and from each other's offices as well as to and from the bathroom and the copier. Shoes that are difficult to walk in or uncomfortable in anyway are simply impractical.

So what's the point? Heels are supposed to make your legs and your ass look better right? So, based on that logic, shouldn't they be worn on nights out and special occasions? Is the office really the place to try out your sexiest looks? OR, more interestingly, are the current, unspoken rules of what constitutes female work attire descendants of male ideas about how women should look attractive, appealing and available to them at all times? After all, think of all the stereotypes about secretaries; or not even the stereotypes, even just the ways men joke about secretaries, with all the sexual innuendo, etc.

There is, as always, a double standard. Women are supposed to dress professionally to be taken seriously in the work world, yet the standards for dressing professionally are intended to make them look sexy and appealing (which is not the best way to be taken seriously). I mentioned in an old blog post the court case Ann Hopkins vs. Price Waterhouse, a case in which the woman was denied a promotion because she didn't dress enough "like a woman." So even though she was clearly dressing in a way that made her feel comfortable and professional, the men in charge of promoting her felt that her lack of make-up and feminine touches meant she wasn't serious about getting ahead in her career (the implication being that the make-up and feminine touches are required to impress the men who are in charge).

And yet, even after considering all this, I don't necessarily want to give up the heels (though I also don't want to wear them tomorrow). I felt more professional-looking at work today. Maybe it's because I've been socialized to see that kind of outfit as professional women's wear, but even though I was in some ways less comfortable, I was pleased with my appearance. And looking back on it, it makes me really sad, and kind of shocks me, how easily I slipped into an attitude of "no pain, no gain" when it comes to my fashion.

Even feminists don't have it all figured out all the time.

Sassy Gay Friend

Like many other people, I love wasting time on youtube. And it was on this fabulous website that I discovered Sassy Gay Friend. I love these videos! If you haven't seen them, Sassy Gay Friend is, you guessed it, a gay man who pops up to provide an alternate ending to famous, but tragic, female characters. The first few videos have SGF saving the lives of Juliet, Ophelia, Desdemona and Lady MacBeth; after that, he branches out from Shakespeare to save the lives (or destinies) of The Giving Tree, Eve, and Miss Havisham. (Recently, he also tackled Nina from Black Swan, but I don't like this one.) In each video, SGF sassily talks the women out of ending (or otherwise destroying) their lives.

First of all, I love these videos because they are hilarious! Especially in the first few, SGF makes very clever jokes based on the text he's making fun of. ("I think you're 14 and you're an idiot. You took a roofie from a priest. Look at your life. Look at your choices." -Juliet video) Also, he often points out the absurdity of the power dynamics between men and women at that time; in Desdemona's video he says, "Some guy ends up with your handkerchief so your husband gets to murder you?" In each of these videos, he takes a female character who is, at least by the end of her literary journey, powerless, and gives her strength to make a change.

But what about the continued stereotype of gay men as simply fun accessories for straight women? In most (commercial) movies I have seen with a gay male character, he is the sidekick to the female heroine (Monster-in-Law, The Devil Wears Prada, Easy A, Bridget Jones's Diary, Clueless, to name a few off the top of my head). The gay friend is usually a good shopping buddy, a good listener, a shoulder to cry on, and, most importantly, single, and therefore available to the female, until the end of the film (if even then). Many of these characters in commercial films have little importance as people; they are sidekicks, crutches and open arms. And aren't the Sassy Gay Friend videos just perpetuating this stereotype?

In some ways, I think they could be. But I think, more than that, these videos are making fun of these stereotypes. His language and mannerisms are completely over the top. And he is always pointing out the obvious that the straight girls are completely unable to see. It's almost as if the creators of SGF are saying, "OK, you want to make the sassy gay friend a necessary accessory to the straight woman? All right then, he'll just be way smarter and more clever than her! And he'll save her life! Take that!" 

At least, that's what I hope they're saying. I'll definitely keep watching these videos as long as they keep making them.