Who Run the World? Girls

I have been flipping through the latest issue of Time magazine and I was reading Bill Clinton's article, "The Case for Optimism," in which he lists the five ways he says are evidence that the world is getting better all the time. Reason #4 is equality for women all over the world. He mentions the improvements for women in countries like Rwanda, Malawi, Bahrain, and Saudi Arabia. I especially like his discussion of the ways in which improvements in women's lives are beneficial not only to the women themselves, but to their larger families, communities, and societies.

When I first came across this article, I was reminded of how much we take for granted in America. The problems these women are dealing with are totally different, and in many ways more basic, than the problems many of us are dealing with. And it's probably a typical American reaction for me to see the subtitle "#4: Women Rule" and think, What? That's not happening at all, because I was only thinking about the anti-woman movement that has dominated my mind, my writing and my (little bit of) activism the past year or so. Yet there's so much more going on outside of my world.

Part of me didn't want to write this post. Because part of me was thinking, If you focus on these women who are fighting for rights that seem so basic to us, then our fights will seem petty and unnecessary, or even greedy. Don't give any ammo to those people saying that women have been fooled by the Obama campaign into thinking that their rights are in danger.

But it doesn't have to be them or us. It is not about whose problems are more worthy. The point is that women deserve equal rights. In less developed countries, the most immediate rights to be fought for may be the right to work in decent and safe conditions, or the right to seek political leadership. In our country, we have to fight for what is being attacked: the right to safe and legal abortion, the right to preventative health care. We have to fight for the right to speak up without being called "sluts" or "feminazis". We have to defend our right to be angry, and loud, and not always submissive or demure.

The rights of women are important. Everywhere. Different women may be fighting for different rights in different places at different times, but we are all human, and we all deserve to be heard and respected. As Bill Clinton said in his article, "No society can truly flourish if it stifles the dreams and productivity of half its population."

Stop talking! Men are around!

On the way to work this morning, I heard a radio host talking about some alleged controversy between Nikki Minaj and Mariah Carey on American Idol. I don't watch American Idol and I'm not really interested in the controversy. What interested me was the way this host (who was a woman, if that matters) talked about it. She said that people are talking about controversy because, apparently, whenever Nikki Minaj tries to critique a performer, Mariah Carey interrupts and/or talks over her. Then the host said something like, "Men don't like it when women talk over each other. Think: The View."

What? The reason that Mariah needs to stop talking over Nikki is because men don't like it? Not because it's rude, or inconsiderate? Not because it probably makes for a bad/ confusing/ incomprehensible critique for the performer?

Then she throws in this comment about The View, and that men don't like it because the hosts are constantly talking over each other. Guess what, radio person? I don't really like The View because the women talk over each other. And I'm a woman. It's just frustrating to watch sometimes. If I care enough about what they're talking about, sure, I'll watch, but I tend to think "Wait, she was saying something interesting! Stop interrupting! STOP!"

Truthfully, my mother, my sisters and I tend to talk over each other in the same way. It drives my boyfriend crazy, true, but it also drives me crazy, and yet I still do it.  Sorry. We are comfortable with each other and this is the way we tend to have conversations. We aren't going to change it because my boyfriend, or my sister's boyfriend, or anyone else is around. The way we talk to each other has nothing to do with other people or what they might think of us.

I get so sick of the media always bringing up what men may think of what women do, and imply that women should constantly be concerned with this. And maybe I'm unaware, maybe there are more women out there who really are censoring themselves based on what men might think. But I don't know many of those women. And the older I get, the more I think that there just aren't as many women out there doing that. (Girls are a different story, I would argue, but that's a whole different age group and for a whole different argument/post.)

What do you think? Am I just lucky to happen to be around women who don't constantly care about what men are thinking? Are there more women listening to the radio this morning thinking that they need to be careful about talking over each other when men are around? Or is the media just feeding us more bullshit and playing into very old, very tired stereotypes that don't exist?

Terms of Endearment (Not the Movie!)

I randomly found myself in a conversation on Facebook today about how to speak respectfully to women. The thread started with a man asking for advice on how to advise his sons, but naturally it digressed from there. The part I became interested in was how to refer to a woman in different situations. Of course, people's feelings on this differ, and depend on how, where and probably even when someone was raised. So first, my personal opinion:

1. I don't like to be called "ma'am" by my peers. To me, "ma'am" should be used in professional situations, with people you don't know well, or when deferring to an authority.

Once, a friend of mine (who is my age) called me "ma'am," and I laughed because I assumed he was making a joke about my being bossy (which I am) and was saying "ma'am" to make fun of me. But then he pointed out that he had been taught to refer to all women and girls as "ma'am," which to me sounds ridiculous. Others in the Facebook conversation said that they teach their children to call people "ma'am" by calling them "ma'am." Thoughts?

2. I don't like to be referred to as "sweetie," "pumpkin," "baby," or any other traditionally feminine term of endearment by anyone I don't know well. Anyone. I. Don't. Know. Well. Men or women, old or young. I realize that many women don't mind being called these things by other women, but I do. It feels diminutive and it just gives me a little shudder.

When I started talking to and then dating my boyfriend, I was really bothered by the amount of times he called me "cutie," "sweetie," etc. I told him so and, while he didn't understand it at all, he tried to respect my feelings and stop using those terms. Eventually, after dating for a while, I began to get more comfortable with him using terms like that, and came to actually enjoy one or two of them. But that's someone that I have an intimate relationship with. There's just about no one else who can call me these things and get away with it. My dad can, sometimes, depending on my mood. My Uncle John, who may be the coolest man I know, has always referred to me, my sisters, my cousin (his daughter) as "my baby" (Like, "Hey, my baby, good to see you!"). Somehow he pulls this off, and he just sounds cool and super sweet, and it's never bothered me. I don't know anyone else that I would feel the same way about.

3. I don't think it's appropriate for a customer, male or female, to refer to a waitress with a term like "sweetie". To me, it comes across as either diminutive, or like you're behaving as if you know this stranger really well. It also just makes me cringe because the server is working. I don't want to be called "sweetie" at work; why should she? I think it's totally appropriate to refer to the server as "ma'am" (though I admit I don't usually do this, I've been trying to think how I usually refer to female servers and I think I tend to avoid it and just say "yes" and "please" without any terms attached).

Anyway, I'm not stating my opinion because I think it's the best one; I'm just trying to start a conversation. I've been told that I'm way too strict on this. I just don't see "cutie" or "sweetie" as terms that mean anything except "little girl" unless they are coming from someone with whom I have a long-term relationship (whether familial or other). But some people, like my boyfriend, say "sweetie" to truly mean "You are a sweet person." So I just want to get your opinions: how do you feel about terms of endearment for women? When are they ok and when are they not? Which ones personally bother you?

The Right to Life: Why I'm Against Personhood in All Forms

Since Mississippi voters voted down the personhood amendment in November, politicians have decided on a second way to get this anti-woman legislation passed: the MS Legislature. Completely ignoring the opinion of the voters, two bills will most likely be introduced: one dealing with "humane treatment of human embryos" and one proposing to define "life at conception." From what I've been reading and hearing, these bills will be revamped versions of personhood, supposedly with adjustments made for the issues voters brought up (ectopic pregnancy treatment, contraception, IVF, etc.). And it's possible that these adjustments could sway some of those "I'm anti-abortion but this bill goes too far" people. And it was very easy, because the proposed personhood amendment was so vague, to keep the arguments in the "It just goes too far" realm (because, of course, it did). But I would like to point out why I'm against these measures no matter what.

I am pro choice.

I believe that legal abortions should stay legal. I believe that a teen rape survivor should be allowed to terminate an unwanted pregnancy. I believe that an incest survivor should be allowed to make her own decision when finding herself pregnant in horrifying circumstances.

I also believe that a young woman in a sexual relationship should be able to terminate an unwanted pregnancy. I believe that a woman who doesn't want to have kids shouldn't be forced into parenthood, a lifetime commitment, because the condom broke, or she missed a pill, or the very determined sperm just got through anyway.  I believe that a woman who is not ready for children (financially, emotionally, physically) should be able to plan her life accordingly (and 66% of women who have abortions plan to have children later in life, when they are prepared). I believe that a woman who has children already, and cannot afford another, can make her own decision about what kind of family she can or cannot handle.

Now, the first step to all of the above circumstances (except for the rape and incest circumstances) is contraception. And, as I've written before, comprehensive sexual education and access to contraception and healthcare is a big part of this. But we all know that contraception can fail. In fact, according to the statistics of this site, half of all women getting abortions were using contraception at the time they got pregnant (and this site confirms this, putting the number at 54%). So even if these new bills don't affect birth control, they will still affect women's abilities to make their own decisions about their lives.

But let's look at some other statistics. The anti-abortion argument that bugs me the most is "women shouldn't be using abortion as just another form of birth control." This bothers me because it paints all women having abortions (and pro-choice supporters) as people indifferent to the lives of children. It paints them as uncaring, unfeeling killers.

The truth is, women are not using abortion as another form of birth control. As already mentioned, it is often a last resort when other contraception has failed. Also,
"If abortion were used as a primary method of birth control, a typical woman would have at least two or three pregnancies per year - 30 or more during her lifetime. In fact, most women who have abortions have had no previous abortions (52%) or only one previous abortion (26%). Considering that most women are fertile for over 30 years, and that birth control is not perfect, the likelihood of having one or two unintended pregnancies is very high." (from Abortion Facts: Women Who Have Abortions)


No matter what else the bills do or do not address, I am still against them, because I believe that a woman's right to choose is essential to a woman's independence. If she can plan when to have children and when not to, if she can decide when to use contraception and when not to, then she can fully live her life. Women often make choices because they have unexpectedly become pregnant, or even because they fear they might become pregnant. And I'm not saying that fear will ever go away; it's something all women have to deal with at some point. But with the right to make decisions about her own body and her own life, women are freer to live, and plan, and enjoy their lives as they choose and desire.

That's the right I'm fighting for. The right to life.

Practice Makes...Pathetic?

"I was shaking my head no when I pulled the vibrator from the envelope...It wasn't just the vibrator and thinking of my mother masturbating that upset me, but also that my mother's boyfriend had stopped sleeping with her and that no amount of love I gave her could equal what was in my hand."  Lisa Glatt, A Girl Becomes a Comma Like That, p. 120.

First of all, I would like to say that I am currently reading A Girl Becomes a Comma Like That and loving it. My post, which you will soon find out if you haven't assumed already is dealing with my problems with the quote above, has nothing to do with my feelings on the book. I think it's great; I just had such a problem with the sentences above that I had to stop and write about it.

When I read the section quoted above, I stopped cold, and I was a little angry. Why does the author (or character, perhaps) assume that a woman ordering a vibrator is lonely and not getting sex? It makes me sad that our culture has painted masturbation as something that only lonely people do.

Masturbation is not a sad, lonely, pathetic substitute; it's not the opposite of a sex life. Masturbation is a healthy part of a sex life. It's a supplement. Your partner is not in the mood but you are? Masturbate. Partner out of town? Masturbate. Partner not in the mood yet but wants to please you? Masturbate and let them watch. And in the same way, owning a vibrator/dildo does not mean that said owner is not getting any sex. Vibrators can be used for solo or partner time.

Now, I understand that the author could be using the vibrator scene to paint a larger picture in her novel. I won't ruin anything (I can't spoil too much, I'm not finished with the book yet) but the woman/mother who ordered the vibrator is dealing with cancer and cancer treatments such as chemo and radiation. So maybe the vibrator is supposed to symbolize her isolation from other (healthy) people, whether self-imposed or not, and her daughter's inability to understand what she's going through. I get it, and I'm not saying the author should have done anything differently. What I am saying is that it's interesting (and sad, and sex-negative, and woman-negative) that we are supposed to see this vibrator, this wonderful tool for a woman's pleasure without needing a partner, and see it as something sad, lonely, something heartbreaking. Are we supposed to feel sorry for her? I think maybe so...

I remember the scene in Parenthood when Steve Martin accidentally finds his sister's vibrator, his divorced, single, lonely sister, and bursts out laughing while she is mortified. No one else in the film mentions sex toys or masturbation aids. Why? Because people (according to our culture) in relationships don't need to masturbate. If you're in a relationship you must be getting ALL the sex you need/want exactly when you need/want it.

This is not reality. And it truly can cause real-life problems. I was amazed the first time my boyfriend turned me down for sex. I couldn't believe that he, a male human, didn't want sex every time it was offered. And I was hurt when he suggested I masturbate (which I had never done) because I thought it meant that I was pathetic and lonely. It's just not true. Most women who masturbate have more orgasms when they do have partner sex. Why?

Practice makes perfect.

I just wish our culture could accept that.

The Need to Vote

"Nearly 19 million young women between the ages of 18 and 34 didn't vote in the 2000 election, a number nearly equivalent to 20 percent of all Americans who actually voted for a presidential candidate."

This is the first sentence in the foreword to Kristin Rowe-Finkbeiner's book The F-Word: Feminism in Jeopardy. The book, which I have not quite completed, goes on to discuss the millions of reasons why women should vote.

As it stands now, young women (and men too) do not vote. Since they do not bring big numbers to the voting booths, politicians don't cater to them with their campaigns and platforms. 

But if we were voting, if that 19 million young women went out on Nov. 8 and cast a vote, think of the changes that could happen! If we were creating a consistent, voting demographic, politicians would have to start paying attention to what we want from them. 

Women's issues are rarely the hot topics of political discussion (except for abortion, and that topic seems to often be argued by men). Rarely do we hear the wage gap, the second shift, or the lack of family leave policies discussed on the nightly news (if we're even watching the news to begin with). But if these issues aren't being dealt with, if women continue to keep their voices and opinions out of the arena, then political decisions will continue to be made by men with men's interests in mind.

The personhood amendment is just one example of policy being made without young people's input or interests. Based on what I've seen and heard in the past few weeks, most young people are against the personhood amendment, regardless of their stance on abortion. Most young people today are aware of, and a part of in one way or another, a sexually-active-before-marriage culture, and understand the threats to birth control and contraceptives that the personhood amendment makes. But, I wonder, how many of these young people will actually make it to their voting location on November 8? 

If we want to make true feminist changes in this country, young women and men have to start voting. Consistently. This means we also have to start paying attention to laws being passed, candidates running for office, opinions of different politicians, and much more. We have to truly think about what we want out of life, the best ways to meet those needs, and the politicians who are working toward those goals. 

If we want feminism (and women) to be successful, we have to step up and add numbers to the voter turnout. Every election.

And we can start with voting no for the personhood amendment on November 8.



**For more reading on this topic, I recommend The F-Word: Feminism in Jeopardy: Women, Politics and the Future by Kristin Rowe-Finkbeiner.

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.