30 August 2008

Seriously? After this, I quit.

I have always been interested in the color-dynamic thing and the whole gender-assignment thing that happens at birth and in childhood. Why do boys get blue and girls get pink? I, for instance, like green. Why don't they wrap kids in all different color blankets? I realize a lot of it is tradition - you know, yay! a boy! or yay! a girl!, but as kids grow up, it's still the same. Boys get trucks and girls get dolls and little mini-ranges. You know, to prepare them for their lifetime of cooking and cleaning. I'm just saying. And why are girls who enjoy playing sports and all rough-and-tumble "tomboys?" Because they act like boys? But all of this behavior is assigned from the moment kids emerge from the womb. Not so, claims a new study.

Girls are biologically inclined to pick pink, scientists say. It's because, you know, our Neanderthalian female counterparts used to pick red berries and leaves and, you know, when babies come out, they're reddish-pink and guys like blue because their Neanderthalian counterparts used to look up at the sky. What? How does looking up at the sky aid in survival of the fittest in any way? Is staring up at the wispy clouds going to help one hunt woolly mammoth even faster? But here's the rub. Apparently, later on in the article, it says that Chinese men actually prefer pink to other colors. And why is this? Are Chinese men especially effeminate? (Because there's a stereotype that doesn't exist.) Or is it a cultural thing? Is it because red and reddish hues (which are related to red) are related to happiness? See, the thing with doing scientific studies is that SCIENCE DEPENDS ON LOGIC. And logic is important when you make huge generalizations like this.

And see, this is why I love Bitch magazine:

Science has the capacity to surprise and amaze us, but sometimes it’s more satisfying when you can jump up and say, “Yes! I knew it all along!” Which is why articles touting the awesomeness of traditional gender roles are an evergreen subject in the science pages.

Scientists are not immune to gender bias. Women who exercise more are less prone to get cancer. Oh, housework counts as exercise. So all this leads to a headline that implies, "GET IN THE KITCHEN AND YOU WON'T GET CANCER." Way to go. My problem is that media completely distorts studies into a gender-biased way and then these quotes get quoted again and again and again until they're rubbed in my face as validation that feminism ultimately hurts women. UH, FAIL. I realize that I'm mainly summarizing a lot of the points in the Bitch article, but it's just SO FANTASTIC. To throw in a personal anecdote for no particular reason, I have experienced sexist behavior before. And to say things like women have no sense of humor as compared to men is just...I don't even have words for this. In the words of my roommate, "Men are bitches." And they are. If they can't be the best, no one can. And to talk about double standards, it doesn't just apply to gender divides in humans, but also to large cats. Like cheetahs!

Whether it’s lions fathering all the cubs in their pride, or human males getting a pass for cheating on their girlfriends, males sleeping around rarely make the news—it’s the natural order, after all—unless the article is happily touting the genetic advantages a male gets from spreading his dna around.

But when female cheetahs were found to do the same by a Zoological Society of London study, the study’s words about “promiscuous” felines were quickly outnumbered in Google’s index by the phrase, “cheetahs are sluts!”

Study author Dada Gottelli was quoted thus: “Mating with more than one male poses a serious threat to females, increasing the risk of exposure to parasites and diseases. Females also have to travel over large distances to find new mates, making them more vulnerable to predation.” Sounds like a cheetah-specific version of certain sex-ed curricula: Don’t sleep around, girls, or you’ll catch lots of diseases and the male cheetahs won’t respect you in the morning. Male cheetahs, however, aren’t “promiscuous”—they’re creating a healthier gene pool.

Not too surprising, then, that most of the coverage glossed over the evolutionary benefit of promiscuity for both male and female cheetahs: Multiple cubs by multiple cub daddies increases the likelihood of genetic diversity—a definite positive for a threatened species. Furthermore, the study noted that the rates of infanticide in cheetahs are much lower than in other big-cat populations, likely because male competitors don’t know which offspring might be theirs. But why let the facts slow down a good headline?

Further on, it shows that apparently people can use made-up studies that don't even exist to push products and sell papers. I think that in our modern world where the news is almost always interpreted as fact and science always equated with logical truth, it's important to realize that this era of Bernstein and Woodward going against the establishment and whatnot is over. OVER. And it's sad. Tragic, really. So, just goes to show. It's like that front page article from The Wall Street Journal that claimed that Americans were not going to vote for Obama because he was "too skinny" and that American culture celebrates the complete opposite of that and because of that, he's not a good fit. Okay, no matter where I fall politically, vote for McCain or vote for Obama, but vote for good reasons. Don't vote for McCain because he's omg!normal sized!. She cited a survey with numerous sources. Later on, it was revealed that she had posted a question on an AOL Message board and used the netspeak comments of other users to prove her point. Aren't you glad that ppl who talk laik dis can ttly vote 4 prez?!! omg!

Yeah, no.

Seriously, can we get studies that prove that the genders are equal? Neanderthalian groups hunted together so that totally means that women precipitated the downfall of Neanderthalian societies. This has nothing to do with the Ice Age or, you know, maybe meteors falling from the sky or whatever killed the effing dinosaurs. It was women. WOMEN KILLED HUMANITY, GUYS. KEEP THEM DOWN. Or, you know, testosterone is linked to humor. THEREFORE GUYS CAN TAKE JOKES AND WOMEN CAN'T. Testosterone also linked to career ambition. So women who are ambitious are more "masculine" so, what, ambition is a masculine trait? Women can't want careers?

Seriously, to quote Hamlet 2 (which, if you haven't seen it, is so funny): SHUT UP, YOU FUCKING BASTARDS.


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11 August 2008

A Feminist Fairy Tale

So I'm taking this Intro to Feminism class online from Penn State and one of our projects is to re-write a classic fairy tale from a feminist perspective. Here's my version of "Cinderella". Enjoy!

Here's the prompt:


Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice…
Writing a Feminist Fairy Tale
(Approx. 500 words)
How many hours a week would you guess that a 1 year old toddler watches television? Well, given that the American Pediatric Association recommends that children under 2 years of age don't watch any television, it's surprising that, on average, those one-year-old toddlers are watching about 6 hours a week ! And that's even better than the 20 hours (on average) that children ages 2-10 watch! So as parents across the country pop in the next Disney DVD, let's take a moment to think about the gender messages that come across and see if we can do a bit of intervention.
Student Project: Read the classic fairy tales Snow White and Cinderella . Choose one story to rewrite from a feminist perspective. You will be graded on creativity and originality, as well as your ability to consider new ways of understanding gender roles. Your story should challenge conventional themes such as rescuing others, submissiveness/ aggressiveness, domesticity, concern with physical appearance, etc. You should target this story to a young audience—feel free to situate the story in any setting. You may tailor the story to suit your needs, but the overall arc of the story should remain intact. Be imaginative.


My story is under the cut.


The Ella Story (Cinder optional)

Once upon time there was a girl named Ella who lived with her father and mother in a small home. Then her mother died. Dad roamed the streets and found a new wife. Although this woman was very nice to Ella’s dad, she was very mean to Ella and always treated her own two daughters much better than Ella.

In the winter, they never gave her enough clothing to keep warm and so Ella had to resort to playing in the ashes of the fireplace to stay warm. One day, Ella’s dad came home from work and saw the sisters cackling at Ella and taunting her and calling her Cinderella. His heart was so hurt, that he decided to separate from the stepmother. So Ella and her father moved out of the big house that the stepmother owned and into a dainty little shack near the interstate. Ella’s father couldn’t bear to see Ella burdened with all of the housework by herself, so he decided to stay home and help. He also found a job cleaning other people’s houses too. Because cleaning work doesn’t pay as well as doing business, Ella and her father lived very humbly. They were happy, but they were also very poor.

One day, as Ella’s father was sweeping the walkway to some grand house, he overheard the neighbors talking about the grand ball that the governor was holding to celebrate his son’s return. Ella’s father saw this as an opportunity for Ella to make new friends and hurried home to tell Ella the good news!

In his hurry, he tripped over the threshold to his cozy little shack and broke his foot. Ella immediately dropped everything she was doing to rush over to her father’s side. She ran for the doctor, but sadly, their fees were all so high (and she had no insurance)! So she rushed back home and comforted her father, situated him as best she could in his bed and sat by his side as he told her all about the governor’s grand ball. Presently she started to cry deep, choking sobs of sorrow. Here, this strange portly woman dressed in a glittery gown appeared at Ella’s side.
“Crying because you can’t go to the ball, Ella?” inquired the portly woman.
“Who are you, and what are you doing in my home?” yelled Ella, angrily.
“I’m your fairy godmother, you silly goose! I’ve come to help you get to the ball, so you can stop weeping now.”
“You moron, I’m not worried about the ball! I don’t even want to go now! I’m crying about my father! He just broke his foot! Jeez! A ball…! Come on!”

The fairy godmother, although a bit shocked that her goddaughter just called her a moron, gladly fixed up her father. A tap of her magic wand, and her father was good as new, no broken anything! She turned to Ella, sized her up with her eyes, did a circle or two and nodded a few times.
“Mmhmm. I think I have just the dress for you, Ella-dear!” she said, as she whipped out an entire rack of expensive designer dresses.
“We’ve got silk chemise, satin, crushed velvet, anything you can think of!”
“Great.” says Ella. She proceeds to reach into the rack and pulls out a hideous seafoam green and dandelion yellow cotton polyester mess. “Here. I want this one.”
The godmother, holding back her vomit, tutted at her. “No, no, no, dear. Obviously you need much more help than I imagined.” With a wave of her wand, Ella found herself in a tailored, sky-blue silk evening gown with none of the puffs or tulles she imagined. With another wave of her wand, the fairy godmother produced a shiny new Rolls Royce limosine complete with mini bar and chauffer.
Ella makes a face of disgust, “What is THIS?!”
Rolling her eyes, the fairy godmother replied, “We can’t have you going to the ball in a 1987 Volvo, you know.”
Ella retorts, “Hey Volvo’s are super safe, you know. But fine, no Volvo. I want a Vespa instead.”
The fairy godmother stops pushing Ella into the Rolls Royce and just stands there, dumbfounded, “You mean Vespa, like the scooter?!”
“Yes, godmother. A Vespa.”

The fairy godmother, though looking down on the choice, has no choice but to grant Ella’s wish to go to the ball in a Vespa.

So Ella zooms off to the ball in a shiny, new, fire-engine red Vespa.

At the ball, she mingles, picks up a conversation there, and a conversation here; maybe makes a few new friends. She introduces herself to everyone she sees, and gradually makes her way to the front of the crowd of townspeople waiting eagerly to welcome the governor’s son.
The governor’s son finally makes his appearance, and as he slowly descends the grand staircase, his eye catches Ella’s. He’s so captivated by her beauty that he trips down the rest of the flight of stairs. Ella manages to push past the guards and run to his side to help him to his feet and at that moment, the governor’s son fell in love.

And the rest? They say it’s history.


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10 August 2008

"Is it Total Crackpot Day again?"

Oh, bad things happen when free time and Wikipedia are involved. So, while at Pineapple Express, I saw a preview for Michael Cera's new movie which looks adorable, which I want to go see. The lead girl kinda looks like Regina Spektor and I love Michael Cera and think he's adorable, so that's pretty much settled. Oh, but Wikipedia doesn't drop anything, and my curiosity pwns Pandora's by like a million so I clicked on this thing called antifeminism. OH, WHY DID I DO THAT.

Some of this stuff is just amazing. In a bad way. Like this blurb from some kind of published author? See, when these things crop up in PRINT, this is generally what leads to a lecture from my 11th grade English teacher for two hours about crazy feminists during a free period (and it's happened). I HATED BEING SINGLED OUT FOR MY BELIEFS. Mainly because I'm a student and can't really say anything back without being disciplined for it. But the paragraph:

There is no solid satisfaction in any career for a woman like myself. There is no home, no true freedom, no hope, no joy, no expectation for tomorrow, no contentment. I would rather cook a meal for a man and bring him his slippers and feel myself in the protection of his arms than have all the citations and awards and honors I have received worldwide, including the Ribbon of Legion of Honor and my property and my bank accounts. They mean nothing to me. And I am only one among the millions of sad women like myself.

Or, this gem:

A special measure of honor is given to a lady, “the weaker vessel,” by a gentleman. Interestingly, this is unique to the Christian lifestyle. Heathen cultures do not honor or value women – and even their version of “protecting” women has more to do with selfishness and possessiveness (kind of like protecting your livestock) than it does truly protecting or valuing them.


As a minority, I am kind of offended. Mainly because I have no idea how they define heathen (though it's probably one who is not Christian), but also because jeez, what an enormous generalization to make. A lot of cultures don't have the same ideas about equality for women, but that doesn't mean that other cultures don't honor or value them AT ALL.

And my personal favorite example of miscommunication:

I am also not a feminist, for the same reason you aren't. But I have another reason also - I don't want to be associated with the "pro-choice" (what a misnomer - it should be pro-death), man-hating, down-with-motherhood mentality that so pervades modern feminist women. That attitude goes against all that God has told me to be, and it is the last thing I want to be associated with. I am not a feminist...I am a Christian, a lady, a wife, a mother, and that is good enough for me even if the world sneers at it.


I'm really glad now that I took a feminist course while at New School because they're CHOCK-FULL of radical feminists. And my professor was just an amazing woman. And one of the things she said about abortion really stuck with me. She said, "Why is it that people who are against abortion get to say pro-life? That's a horrible position to take. It makes pro-choice equal to pro-death. But that's not true. What about the mother's health?" And it's not just about if her life is endangered, but like her health in general. Maybe I'm over-generalizing. But that paragraph, that sentence really sums up a lot of the misinformation about feminism. I don't hate men. And I certainly don't rail against motherhood. But maybe it's not for everyone (just like having children might not be everyone), and having that pushed on someone certainly isn't a good choice either.

Rant over.

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