Wow, okay, loaded title there. Deep breaths. I think the discussion in class was really riveting, especially when someone (I'm sorry I forgot who you are, brilliant person) brought up how we have to devalue women's lives to make the life of a fetus more valuable. I'd never really thought of it that way, but looking at anti-abortion campaigns, that's true across the board.
What's always baffled me in the abortion debate is that there's no way to have two full individuals in one body without infringing on one of their rights. And to me, the obvious choice for whose rights to protect is the fully developed adult woman. From a developmental perspective, it's almost insulting to compare the life of a fetus or young embryo to that of a fully developed adult.
It's just one of those conflicts that I can't wrap my mind around. The answer seems so obvious to me, and yet there's still such a nasty debate on the matter.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Women and Politics
EDIT: Just found a bunch of more-or-less finished entries in my drafts. Please excuse the sudden influx of
The presentation last Thursday on First Ladies was interesting, but I think that choosing to discuss only First Ladies in class devoted to women and politics is inherently flawed. Women who marry politicians are the only women in politics who are neither elected nor appointed to their position; they have married into it. I don't want to understate the role of the First Lady, and I know that they have an important role to play in keeping their husbands approval ratings up, and possibly getting them elected in the first place. But doesn't it seem a little skeevy to discuss women in politics by focusing on the only women who didn't get there by there own merits? Women who are, by definition, shoe-horned for four years into the extremely gendered role of "wife"?
In Tuesday's election, there were so many brilliant women elected to the senate, and I think it's a real shame we haven't mentioned any of them. Tammy Baldwin, for instance, is the first openly gay woman to serve in the Senate. Tammy Duckworth is the first disabled U.S. Congresswoman, and an Iraq War veteran. Tulsi Gabbard, the Congresswoman-elect from Hawaii, is the first Hindu congressperson, and also a combat veteran.
In a year where we've had a handful of elected women become groundbreaking firsts, I think it's a pity not to pay homage to them.
The presentation last Thursday on First Ladies was interesting, but I think that choosing to discuss only First Ladies in class devoted to women and politics is inherently flawed. Women who marry politicians are the only women in politics who are neither elected nor appointed to their position; they have married into it. I don't want to understate the role of the First Lady, and I know that they have an important role to play in keeping their husbands approval ratings up, and possibly getting them elected in the first place. But doesn't it seem a little skeevy to discuss women in politics by focusing on the only women who didn't get there by there own merits? Women who are, by definition, shoe-horned for four years into the extremely gendered role of "wife"?
In Tuesday's election, there were so many brilliant women elected to the senate, and I think it's a real shame we haven't mentioned any of them. Tammy Baldwin, for instance, is the first openly gay woman to serve in the Senate. Tammy Duckworth is the first disabled U.S. Congresswoman, and an Iraq War veteran. Tulsi Gabbard, the Congresswoman-elect from Hawaii, is the first Hindu congressperson, and also a combat veteran.
In a year where we've had a handful of elected women become groundbreaking firsts, I think it's a pity not to pay homage to them.
Monday, November 5, 2012
Sexual response and consent
Before I get into any serious topics, I just want to say that the discussion this past Thursday exceeded all my expectations. Thanks to everyone in the class for participating as we dealt with such a difficult issue. You folks are awesome.
That said, towards the end of class it seemed there was a bit of confusion on the difference between physiological sexual response and consent. It was put forward that you could medically "tell" if penetrative intercourse was consensual or not do to the conditions of the victim's body, and this simply isn't the case.
There are certain physiological responses that are typically associated with arousal in females--and before I delve into those, I think it's important to point out that physical arousal in no way indicates consent. Moving along. Sexual arousal in females is often accompanied by erection of the nipples, clitoris, and labia, expansion of the vagina, and the production of vaginal lubrication. While it was never stated outright, it seemed to me that the train of thought present in class on Thursday was "if a woman is wet, she wasn't raped", which, for many reasons, is totally bogus.
First of all, the physiological response described above does not occur only in response to consensual sexual arousal. Studies have shown that the physiological responses above are present in many female-bodied people in response to a variety of sexual stimuli (even intercourse by non-human primates). Does this mean that females are consenting to sex at the slightest hint of sexual stimuli? Hell no! It's just the way many bodies work. These physiological changes are often seen in cases of rape--sometimes victims even acheive orgasm--and it's thought this might be because our bodies evolved this response so that our genitals wouldn't be damaged in case of unwanted sexual contact. The more you know!
It's also important to point out that the vagina isn't exactly the Gobe dessert when the person running the show isn't sexually aroused. The vagina is a moist environment: it needs to be to maintain the microbes that live inside of it. The vagina is also self cleaning, which means it produces fluids to clean itself other than those that serve the purpose of easing the way for penetrative sex. There's also a huge amount of variation in vaginal lubrication produced during arousal--they sell lube for a reason, right?
So basically: the vagina of someone who has been raped may respond in a very similar way to those of someone having consensual sex. Just looking at someone's genitals is no strong indicator of whether or not they just had consensual sex or were raped.
Monday, October 22, 2012
The Problem with Strong Female Characters (with an emphasis Moffat)
To preface: in the following argument, I am not attacking any of the characters mentioned for being a "bad character" or a "bad female character". I'm attacking the idea that only a very narrow range of characters fits into the category of "strong female characters"
In geek culture, at least, Joss Whedon and Steven Moffat are often used as great examples of guys who write strong female characters. Possibly because they spend a lot of time patting themselves on the back and bragging about how they write such strong female characters, but that's another bone to pick entirely, and can basically be summed up as, if you're a dude, don't run around claiming you're the savoir of women's representation in geek culture. But I digress...
Since I'm not super familiar with Whedon's work (I've watched a bit of Buffy, a lot of Dollhouse and Firefly, and the Avengers, but I don't think I have enough grasp on his writing to really comment), I'm going to focus here on Moffat, though I think it's safe to say Whedon falls into many of the same pitfalls. Steven Moffat's written a lot of badass ladies in recent years, as you can see in Doctor Who with River Song, Amy Pond, and the not-yet-fleshed-out Clara Oswin, and in the recent BBC Sherlock Holmes reboot of Irene Adler. I'm fond of all of these characters in one way or another--the actresses who play them are all talented and captivating people, and many of the storylines they feature in are engrossing and well written.
But the problem with all of Moffat's badass ladies is that, when you boil it all down, they're all incredibly similar. All are clever, sassy, sexy, flirtatious, and badass--they all embody the "strong female character." And that's fine--when done once or twice. However, once you get past the shock of "Wow! A cool, powerful woman!" you realize that Moffat is rehashing the same cool, powerful woman again and again. They banter with the men they're with. They use their sexuality to their advantage. With disturbing frequency, they claim some sort of bisexuality (or in the case of Moffat's Adler, homosexuality), but in the end, they always, always fall for the leading man, which is all kinds of problematic.
There are slight differences in their characters, but the overall framework is the same. Moffat doesn't have a range of strong female characters, but variations on the theme of the "strong female character". Because in its modern connotations, "strong female characters" aren't any well-rounded, believable portrayal of a woman in media, but a very specific character type, sexy and clever and fearless. And that's not okay. That's only a step up from having armies of docile Lucie Manettes.
Here's the solution: rather than holding up one character type as what a "strong female character" is, we need to strive for diversity by recognizing any well-written, well-rounded, realistic woman in fiction as a strong female character, whether she's smart or not, bold or shy, sexy or prudish or anywhere in between. We need to break away from hailing the "strong female character" as the savior of women in geek culture, and usher in an era of diverse female characters who are all strong, despite their differences in character.
In geek culture, at least, Joss Whedon and Steven Moffat are often used as great examples of guys who write strong female characters. Possibly because they spend a lot of time patting themselves on the back and bragging about how they write such strong female characters, but that's another bone to pick entirely, and can basically be summed up as, if you're a dude, don't run around claiming you're the savoir of women's representation in geek culture. But I digress...
Since I'm not super familiar with Whedon's work (I've watched a bit of Buffy, a lot of Dollhouse and Firefly, and the Avengers, but I don't think I have enough grasp on his writing to really comment), I'm going to focus here on Moffat, though I think it's safe to say Whedon falls into many of the same pitfalls. Steven Moffat's written a lot of badass ladies in recent years, as you can see in Doctor Who with River Song, Amy Pond, and the not-yet-fleshed-out Clara Oswin, and in the recent BBC Sherlock Holmes reboot of Irene Adler. I'm fond of all of these characters in one way or another--the actresses who play them are all talented and captivating people, and many of the storylines they feature in are engrossing and well written.
But the problem with all of Moffat's badass ladies is that, when you boil it all down, they're all incredibly similar. All are clever, sassy, sexy, flirtatious, and badass--they all embody the "strong female character." And that's fine--when done once or twice. However, once you get past the shock of "Wow! A cool, powerful woman!" you realize that Moffat is rehashing the same cool, powerful woman again and again. They banter with the men they're with. They use their sexuality to their advantage. With disturbing frequency, they claim some sort of bisexuality (or in the case of Moffat's Adler, homosexuality), but in the end, they always, always fall for the leading man, which is all kinds of problematic.
There are slight differences in their characters, but the overall framework is the same. Moffat doesn't have a range of strong female characters, but variations on the theme of the "strong female character". Because in its modern connotations, "strong female characters" aren't any well-rounded, believable portrayal of a woman in media, but a very specific character type, sexy and clever and fearless. And that's not okay. That's only a step up from having armies of docile Lucie Manettes.
Here's the solution: rather than holding up one character type as what a "strong female character" is, we need to strive for diversity by recognizing any well-written, well-rounded, realistic woman in fiction as a strong female character, whether she's smart or not, bold or shy, sexy or prudish or anywhere in between. We need to break away from hailing the "strong female character" as the savior of women in geek culture, and usher in an era of diverse female characters who are all strong, despite their differences in character.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Hopefully I am posting this in my actual blog this time and not in the main blog, but they have the same name, and I'm not far beyond making the same mistake twice.
Tense day in class today, right? I like the idea of ouch cards, but how exactly do we implement them? Maybe we should tie bells to them and throw them on the ground. Or instead we could get those little poppers that everyone uses on the fourth of July, and throw them around instead. Basically, I'm just hoping we can incorporate some arm work-out into the healing process whenever we're offended.
As tense as things were, I'm glad to see everyone's so invested in the discussions we're having. But I wish we had a little more procedure as to what happens when someone is offended. What happens after "Ouch"? Obviously, we should respect the injured party's right to be offended, and we should stay the hell away from any tone arguments, but we should also provide a space where we can talk out and work out the knots of the conversation, so we don't end up punching each other's teeth out over misunderstandings.
On the topic of what we discussed today in class: I'll be up front about it, talking about masculinity in a class on gender immediately puts me on edge. In the past, in any sort of gender discussion I've had, bringing up masculinity has unfailingly been tied with ideas of "reverse sexism", which, like the age old question "But why isn't there a white history month?", makes my tripes clench.
The initial cringe-worthy pun of "Tough Guise" put me even more on edge, but honestly, I was blown away by how rational and well-researched the arguments in the movie were (save the discussion on depression, which erased entirely the social stigma people of all genders deal with when confronting a mental illness). Ditto today's discussion in class. There were no cries for "masculinism", just a discussion of facts and men's experience with gender roles. I've been proven wrong. There is a place for masculinity in discussions for gender equality, and it can be done in a smart, coherent way.
Tense day in class today, right? I like the idea of ouch cards, but how exactly do we implement them? Maybe we should tie bells to them and throw them on the ground. Or instead we could get those little poppers that everyone uses on the fourth of July, and throw them around instead. Basically, I'm just hoping we can incorporate some arm work-out into the healing process whenever we're offended.
As tense as things were, I'm glad to see everyone's so invested in the discussions we're having. But I wish we had a little more procedure as to what happens when someone is offended. What happens after "Ouch"? Obviously, we should respect the injured party's right to be offended, and we should stay the hell away from any tone arguments, but we should also provide a space where we can talk out and work out the knots of the conversation, so we don't end up punching each other's teeth out over misunderstandings.
On the topic of what we discussed today in class: I'll be up front about it, talking about masculinity in a class on gender immediately puts me on edge. In the past, in any sort of gender discussion I've had, bringing up masculinity has unfailingly been tied with ideas of "reverse sexism", which, like the age old question "But why isn't there a white history month?", makes my tripes clench.
The initial cringe-worthy pun of "Tough Guise" put me even more on edge, but honestly, I was blown away by how rational and well-researched the arguments in the movie were (save the discussion on depression, which erased entirely the social stigma people of all genders deal with when confronting a mental illness). Ditto today's discussion in class. There were no cries for "masculinism", just a discussion of facts and men's experience with gender roles. I've been proven wrong. There is a place for masculinity in discussions for gender equality, and it can be done in a smart, coherent way.
EDIT: Oops. Clearly I need a refresher course in just how to use blogger. This was supposed to be over on my personal blog and not up here. Sorry folks! I'll move that over now
All this talk about the different waves and movements of feminism has pinpointed for me one of the few things I genuinely dislike, and that's the fact that so much feminist theorizing is done in a way that makes it completely inaccessible to those people it could most help.
I think the critique Tong presented on postmodern feminism was largely valid. I agree that some of what makes it confusing is that people aren't used to thinking outside the gender binary, but there's more confusing language here than just "cis" or "trans". A large part of the rhetoric of postmodern feminism along with other movements is a language that means little or nothing to the average person. New words are used, or old words are used in strange new ways. I'm not saying this is entirely a bad thing; sometimes it's downright necessary. To describe a new concept, a new ideology, obviously some new language is going to come into play, but it seems to me that at times, feminist writers are over-complicating their language simply to look smart.
And maybe that does make them look kinda smart, but to me, it also makes them look like assholes, and more than that, it makes them look like they don't really care about the people who feminism could most help.
I'm not saying there's no place at all for this kind of purely academical feminism, but I think feminism could do a lot more good if it made itself more accessible to the masses. The fact of the matter is, many people haven't had college-level gender studies courses, or any college education at all, and for them, feminist theories may be even more crucial than to those of us sitting around, arguing gender politics in a classroom. And to make feminism an open, accessible resource for people who want to change the system they live in, the language of feminism must be as close to the language that people speak day-in, day-out as possible.
Sunday, September 30, 2012
The talk about brain differences in the sexes earlier this week was interesting. I was hoping for a bit of professor vs. professor debate (or all out biology vs. social construction cage match), but it was still very informative to hear about the differences between the brains in the sexes of many species.
What I really wondered, coming away from that lecture, was whether or not any of this had practical implications. If, on average, women have more connective tissue between the left and right sides of their brain than men, does that have any meaning in the real world? Even when it comes down to slight differences in the way men and women think, are there any ramifications of that in the world at large? Is the difference enough to change the way we think about the sexes?
I also wondered how these purported brain differences manifested in intersex individuals, or in individuals who didn't identify as the gender they were assigned at birth. It was mentioned in class that sexuality had some affect on regions of the brain. What of gender identity? I would imagine that would have a bigger impact still, but that comes from the point of view of a complete and utter layperson.
I without a doubt align myself with the social constructionist camp, but the biology of sex differences in the brain is still fascinating, and I'd be interested in learning more about it. What I question, though, is whether these brain differences are meaningful or not, and if they are, if that meaning is large enough to have any application in day to day life.
What I really wondered, coming away from that lecture, was whether or not any of this had practical implications. If, on average, women have more connective tissue between the left and right sides of their brain than men, does that have any meaning in the real world? Even when it comes down to slight differences in the way men and women think, are there any ramifications of that in the world at large? Is the difference enough to change the way we think about the sexes?
I also wondered how these purported brain differences manifested in intersex individuals, or in individuals who didn't identify as the gender they were assigned at birth. It was mentioned in class that sexuality had some affect on regions of the brain. What of gender identity? I would imagine that would have a bigger impact still, but that comes from the point of view of a complete and utter layperson.
I without a doubt align myself with the social constructionist camp, but the biology of sex differences in the brain is still fascinating, and I'd be interested in learning more about it. What I question, though, is whether these brain differences are meaningful or not, and if they are, if that meaning is large enough to have any application in day to day life.
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