Butterfly Cauldron

Stealing is bad.
Pretending something is yours when it's not? Bad.
Not giving people credit for their work? Also bad.
Using the excuse 'well, this topic has been out there for awhile' when trying to justify not citing your sources? Lame. Cowardly.
Getting huffy when called on your shit? Embarassing. Evidence of immaturity. And being stunningly blind to privelge.

Citing sources is very easy. Unconvinced? Here, I'll show you:

Sylvia says: Beautiful Word
Natalia says: So Much Word
Daisy says: Deadhead Word
Sudy says: Kick Ass Word
Belle says: Super Smart Word
Lisa says: Word! With links!

See? It's easy! (Ooooh. Maybe you don't know the code? In that case. . .I can email it to you. No problem.)

Labels: annoyance, community, feminims, feminism, women, writing

OK, here's the thing -- while I'm pretty damned happy with my body
myself and think I'm kinda cute, I always assume other people only see
me as this fat girl. Funny, sure. Smart, sure. Best friend even, sure.
But more? Girlfriend? Lover? Nah. Just not their type, is all. Because
of, ya know, the fatness.

Now, my brain knows this is not true. My brain knows I've had lovers
(and hey! lately my body remembers it too). It knows I've been deeply
in love and been loved in return. It knows that the size of my body is
not an impediment to these things. And I genuinely believe that, but
still.....there's that crazy fear that rears its stupid, crazy,
fear-head. I want a hammer to bash it in, but it hides like those
crazy moles in Wack-A-Mole. Grr.

So, I've been talking to this guy online for a bit (I'm a geek. I meet
all my guys online, it seems) and we've been getting along, it seems
nice, etc. etc. He sends me a picture, he's kinda cute. And then he
wants my picture too. Panic. It's going so well! When he sees the
picture, he'll run away, blahblahblah. Panicpanicpanic. So, I put him
off for a day or two, steeling myself up for it. Knowing, just
knowing, he'll flee. So, I sent him the picture this morning. And got
a response back from him pretty damned quick.

The specific contents of said email I will keep to myself. Ahem. But
he thinks I'm quite sexy and included a nice list of things he'd like
me to do to him. Ahem.

So....why was I so freaked out? Why was I so incredibly certain I'd be
rejected? I mean, I have never in my life been a small girl. Never.
And that's not stopped me from having relationships. But it just gnaws
at me, that sense of insecurity. That once s/he knows what I look
like....it'll be over.

So, anyway, because I've decided I've had enough of this shit, I
posted a picture of myself on my blog for anyone to see. (Which can be found one post down!) Kinda scary,
but what's the worst that can happen? Trolls tell me I'm fat? (No?
Really???) I'm working on just being more out-there with things. I
mean, if I can own up to bisexuality and goddess worship, what's a
little "here's what I look like"? If we're going to smash society's
expectations of what women can and should look like, we can't exactly
be hiding in the closet, can we?

(BTW, this Boy is all of 22. Seriously, I've been dating in the wrong age-range!)

Labels: fat, feminism, men

Everyone's talking about gender lately, which is funny because it was just on my mind. Belle's talking about it and everytime she talks about something, I start thinking and there goes my night, ya know?

So, I'm thinking about what it means to be feminine -- both in regards to myself and in regards to my niece.

Kady turns 3 in March. She's at that age where she's starting to notice differences in things and so, it's time for her to learn that she's a girl. Or so says my family. Me? I'm thinking what's the rush? And the things they're pointing out to her are not the physical differences, but the actions of being female.

Like, for Christmas I was a bad, bad feminist and gave her nailpolish. Because she wanted it and I'm her aunt and how could I say no? So, she got nail polish. And had the best time with it. She painted everyone's nails and toes. And ya know, fingers too. She wanted to paint her grandpa and her daddy's nails too. And this is where the problem came in.

The men in my family, for all their areas of equality, are kinda wigged out by the notion of 'non-manly' behaviour. So, nail polish? Uh. No. My brother (K's Daddy) told her that nail polish was for girls, not boys. (To which I said, "Why?" -- at the same time Kady did.) I also pointed out that, ya know, some boys wear nail polish too. (Like, the kind Aunt Zan wants to ravish. Oh, yes. Ahem.) Anyway, B (my brother) was all like, 'well, not boys in this family."

At which point Kady, bless her adorable soul, looks at her Daddy and says "Then you're a girl."

She was totally going to paint his nails, gender be damned. There was a bit of "no no, Daddy's a boy and Mommy's a girl and you're a girl and Aunt Zan is a girl and Gramma is a girl" and finally, she was distracted by the chance to paint her cousin Kamryn's toes.

But still. I'm concerned about what she's going to learn. While the rest of the family may be quite content with her growing up learning traditional gender roles, I am not. Which is why I tend to buy her non-gendered toys. (She's totally getting a set of bongos for her birthday.) I want her to grow up to know that it's okay for her to play the drums or guitar or paint or write or run a business or run a farm or fix a car or whatever the hell it is that makes her happy, even if it's not 'feminine'.

(Although, to be fair to my family, they're not all about keeping her in the gender roles. She got a guitar for Christmas, because she loves music. She showed it to me, slipping it over her shoulders and plucking on it. "It makes noise" she said. I love that kid.)

So, how do I model behaviour for her when I'm not sure about being 'feminine' myself?

Lately, I've been feeling myself drawn more to a more feminine mode of dressing. I have sudden urges for pretty sundresses and strappy sandals. (No heels though. Goddess save me from heels.) And I can't get enough lip gloss. Really, it's like a sickness. Lip gloss beckons me and I Must. Buy. It. Now. I have more purses than any woman should have and I'm so looking forward to getting the money that's coming to me because it means I can buy furniture. And I've been looking around at furniture stores for days now, just dreaming about what I want. Do you think men do that? (I don't know. Do they? I've been told they don't, but I could be wrong.)

See, in my mind I'm still equating feminine with weak. And I know, in my head, that's not right. I know that. None of the women in my family are weak, and that's where I get my idea of feminine from. But it feels so....traditional. So bowing to culture and giving up my own identity. And I know, of course, that I'm never going to let that happen. But that's how I feel, when I'm actually faced with buying a pretty dress or shoes. It's dumb. I know, when I wear this stuff, that I'm going to get lots of compliments. Which I like, but then I think, so what was wrong with me before? It's just me in a pretty dress. I'm no different. I didn't undergo a sudden personality switch when the silk went over my head, ya know. Same girl. Same brain, same abilities, but now I'm worth noticing when I wasn't before? What's up with that shit?

So, I guess, I'm resentful. I certainly don't dress for compliments. And really, I genuinely like a lot of the clothing I want to wear. So, ya know, it's not like anyone is making me do it.

And really, isn't a skirt just a skirt? Don't we have bigger problems in the world? And yet, here I am, stuck wondering about this shit when there's a war going on and people are dying and there are women and children being beaten and abused in my own damned town. It all seems so stupid and pointless, yet here I go again.

Because I know it doesn't fucking matter what you wear, it matters what you do. It doesn't matter if you never wear dresses or if you always wear them. It doesn't matter if you wear lipstick or chapstick or nothing at all. It doesn't matter if you shave or if you dye your hair or if your skin has never known a damned razor. None of those things make you feminine. None of those things make you a woman and I'm rather pissed that I'm being manipulated into feeling that those things are important.

Maybe I'm just tired of the artificial divisions. Maybe I'm just tired of being told I have to analys every fucking choice I make. Maybe a pretty green sundress is just a pretty green sundress that I'm wearing when I volunteer at the animal shelter or work the suicide prevention line. Who knows? And maybe a man wears eyeliner or nail polish or a fucking dress while he comforts an abused kid or delivers a meal to a homeless person.

Okay. Yeah. That's what I'm feeling about gender -- it pisses me off. Because everyone keeps trying to define it and put it into little boxes so they can mark us all off as X or Y or Z or whatever the fuck they can. And you know what happens when they do that? We stop being human. We stop being individuals who have personalities and quirks and passions and flaws and the power to change the godsdamned world. Putting us in pre-defined boxes strips us of our power.

So, here's what I say: define your gender however the hell you want to and I'll define mine like I want to. Aren't we all tired of dragging around those checklists anyway? "Girls do X, boys do Y, blah, blah, blah." What good do they do us? I guess, if you can check off all the boxes naturally, they work for you. So great. You be a checklist gender. I can't check off all the damned boxes and frankly, I don't want to.

But I want to be able to wear a goddamned dress without feeling like I'm either a bad feminist or turning into my mother.

Labels: feminism, gender

So. I've been thinking, after posting the entry below, that if The Possibility were a girl, I'd have already called her and set up a date, et al.

I'm not sure what to make of that. Maybe it's because I've been in a very girl-centric mood lately. Really, I was expecting to meet a girl (and hey, maybe I have. . .but that's another story). I've been awash in very feminine energy and I've been pulled toward other girls. So this whole, wait he's got a penis! thing . . .not what I was expecting.

Which is something the Universe will /so/ do to you. Hmp.

Still, there's something to the fact that, if he were a she, I would have substantially less angst about hooking up. It's not because I think hooking up with a girl would be less 'real'. Fuck that. No, it's...I never have the same sense of panic or worry with women. It's a level playing field, no power struggle.

Well, shit. That's just shit, isn't it? Because here I am, assuming about a person because he's a Man, instead of oh, I don't know, letting him just be a person and not assuming X,Y and Z about him because he's got a fucking penis.

*sigh* All this work and I still need deprograming....

Labels: feminism, gender

So, I'm emailing this girl here in town and we've been talking about writing, which both of us do. We've both got half a novel finished and just need to get back with it already! So, after an email last night where she asked me to tell her what my novel was about, I was forced to actually write it out to someone else. Which made me go, 'hey, ya know. I should pull that out and do some work on it." So, I did. And now I've got these characters buzzing in my head and They.Won't.Shut.Up.

Which is rather blissful for me, frankly. Good timing too. The girl I share the office with is on maternity leave for six weeks and I've got the place all to myself. Ha! Guess what I'm gonna be doing? Yes. You're quite right. Bad Zan, here's a publishing deal. Or something.

So, anyway, last night I pulled out the copy of what I've gotten written (hard copies rock, people. I became obessed with them when my thesis -- both of 'em! -- got eaten by computers when I was in the final round. Gah!) Something wasn't quite right with it before, which is why it got put down. Then I got sick and was on meds and well...that happens. Ahem. So, anyway I'm reading it and was like -- well, hell! One of my main charcters is the wrong fucking gender! Dammit. I hate it when that happens.

So, Adan is becoming Adrienne in the revisions I'm doing this weekend. Which makes things feel a bit more True. A few more tweeks will be necessary to the character, but essentially she's better now.

I'm also a bit concerned about one of the final scenes in the book. (Yeah, I write the last chapter first. I need to know where I"m going before I can figure out how to get there. Sue me.) It needs to be there, doubtlessly. It resolves one of the big conflicts, well, two of them, really. But it's kinda....Here's the thing: my heroine is, in my mind, a clearly feminist heroine. She's not saying it or whatnot, but the way she lives her life, the choices she makes, the relationships she has -- it's pretty damned clear. So, something happens to her in this chapter that needs to happen, but I'm worried about the reaction people are going to have to it.

And on one hand, I don't care. My story (Yeah, Zera says, your story. Keep telling yourself that Typing Slave.), my rules, right? And it makes sense. It's necessary. But it's not really pretty. And you know, it's more her reaction to what happens to her that is what I worry people will react badly to. (She says: Fuck 'em. Let 'em bitch. They would anyway. Now, go write me a damn sex scene! I haven't gotten laid since chapter three!!)

And so, now I'm thinking it's not so much a problem, but something to mull about. Hrm. Still, I think the scene isn't what people may read it as, so . . .(Again -- fuck 'em. I'm a big girl, I knew what I was getting into and did it willingly. Hello, isn't that called consent? Self-determination? So. Fuck 'em. Go.Write.My.Sex.Scene.Dammit.)

So, ahem. Well, yes. I'm writing again. (Thanks Bainen! ) I may be getting weird. Sorry :)

(Actually, my friends used to give me a giant berth when they knew I was writing. One day, I came out of my room to find Stef had stuck a note on my door -- Do not Disturb. She'll fucking Kill You!! Hmp.))

Labels: feminism, fun, writing

So. Reading Belle and Bitch | Lab and I started thinking about class and notions of poverty. About how what constitutes 'poor' is different for people depending on where they live, how they were raised and exactly how many 'poor' people they know. This whole thing started as a spin-off of a post on Feministe that mentioned spending $40 a month on leg waxing while in law school -- and I should note I personally don't see anything wrong with that, if you can afford to do it. Hell, when I was in grad school I had a budget set aside for trashy romance novels and B-grade horror movies. Grad school sucks your brain dry, so if you have the extra cash to do something that makes it less brain-sucking, go for it. But not everyone has that luxury.

And that's really what this is about, I think. For me, anyway. The idea that, for some people, the idea that you simply do not have $40 extra a month is inconceivable. Everyone has $40 extra a month, don't they? Well, no. We don't. In fact, some of us don't have $5 extra a month and if we did we'd be spending it on things like gas or food and not buying a new paperback or renting the latest zombie movie. (Oh, gods. I so miss those days! Ahem.)

Growing up, I didn't realize I was poor. Strange, but true. I grew up on a farm, in very rural Louisiana. My nearest neighbors were my grandparents and two sets of aunts and uncles. We grew our own vegetables and raised cows and pigs, so we weren't ever hungry. I didn't realize it wasn't normal to wear hand-me-downs, things your own Mother had worn in high school, until I was in junior high and a girl, one who I sorta thought was a friend, asked me all disgusted like why I never wore blue jeans. Which made me start crying when I told her I just didn't have any, because we didn't have the money. I had never really thought about not having the money until then. I never really cared what I was wearing until them, either. But suddenly, it all crystalized for me. I was poor. I wasn't starving, being kicked out of my house poor, but I was poor. We had a house because my parents had been given one as a wedding present by an uncle that just really liked them. Of course, when he gave it to them, it didn't have an indoor bathroom and was very, very tiny. But at least it was a roof over their head. They went into debt adding a bathroom before I was born and then, when I was probably about 8 or so, remodeling the house so my brother and I could have our own bedrooms. (We were getting to the age where we were starting to notice we were made kinda differently, so it was time for us to get our own beds, ya know?)

I never had luxuries like cable television when I was growing up. All my friends did, but I didn't. This only bugged me because it kept me from being able to talk about the things they were talking about. I had never seen MTV until I visited my Aunt Vickie in Lafayette. And I'd stay up until 3 or 4 in the morning, watching, just glued to the television because it was something I didn't have. I couldn't make long distance calls on our telephone either, because it was too expensive. But, because we lived so far out of town, calling any of my friends (who all lived in town) was long distance. So, when I went home from school, that was all the contact I had with my friends. Summer breaks, where you're supposed to be hanging out with your friends, I was stuck in the country on a farm, helping my dad bale hay so we could have the money for school cloths the next semester. And all our clothes came from the Dollar General or Family Dollar. My mother, when I came home that time in tears because I was wearing clothes from the fricking 60s instead of blue jeans, took me into town to the Dollar General and bought me a cheap pair of jeans. She probably didn't really have the money to do that, but she did it because I was so very upset about it.

The paint in my bedroom when I was a child wasn't very good. In that, we didn't have the money to buy enough paint to do the whole room, so most of the walls had only a light coating of yellow on them. You could see the nails and the lines of the board through it. Which never really bothered me, until I had a friend over for the night. I thought everything was going well, we had fun. Until the next day at school, I heard her telling my other 'friends' that my room was awful. That you could see through the paint and that the walls weren't finished and there was no molding around the edges and I had only like five posters on the wall. Which was all true, but had never bothered me before. I had never really cared, because frankly I'm not the sort to put much stock in appearances. (Which all those 'friends' came to appreciate much later, but at this age they were all about judging and fitting in and ostracizing the weird girl.) So, I got really, really upset about that too and, since I knew we didn't have the money to repaint my room, started cutting pictures out of old magazines and making pictures and posters and things to put all over my walls, to cover up the horrible paint and the nails. The next time I had someone over, they thought it was the coolest room they'd ever seen. Because they didn't know how much pain had gone into it, I suspect.

The thing is, I knew there were people who were poorer than I was. I knew there were people who didn't have food to eat or a place to sleep -- because my family made it a point to share what little we had with people who had even less. My family was forever bringing people over for dinner or giving them blankets or pillows or cans of fruit my mother had canned or whatever we had that they didn't. We were poor, but there were people much poorer than we were. We had a house, we never had the utilities cut off, we never went hungry. We were lucky.

It's only been recently that my mother has started to spend money on herself. To my mother, $40 is way too much to spend on a new pair of pants. Or a new pair of shoes. She'll do it, if I'm there to talk her into it, but otherwise...she just can't bring herself to spend money on herself. It's a habit she picked up raising her family on next to no money. You don't have money for things you don't need. You just don't. And when you realize you do, instead of spending it, you put it aways for later because something is always going to come up and you'll be glad you've got th at $40 for a tank of gas or a new car battery instead of those boots you really wanted.

To a lot of people in Louisiana, I have a good job. I have a really good job, actually. And I don't make $27k a year. Imagine, for a moment, making $27k a year and raising a family. In this state, that's a reality. In fact, in this state people making that much money are considered too wealthy to qualify for any family aid programs. (Well, unless you've got like four kids or more.) And you can't get my job without a college education, so in addition to raising a family and paying the rent and car note and insurance you've got to pay back college loans. It's nearly impossible, yet it's considered a good income.

The job I'm moving to next month pays me a little bit less. I'm willing to take a pay cut, because it's a state job which means I've got job security, good insurance and absolutely incredible retirement. I also have a clear path for promotion. So I can take a pay cut now, knowing I'll be making probably a good $5-6K more a year within two years. I'll also be able to get myself promoted to a manager's position in about three years, which means I'll be making close to $40K a year in the foreseeable future. So, by the time I'm 35 I'll actually have made my way out of lower-middle class. I'll be able to consider buying a house or having a child. I'll be able to relax and actually enjoy my life. For a lot of people, that's not something they can see. That's not something they can even imagine.

When people talk about spending $40 a month on leg waxing, the reaction they get is not because people necessarily begrudge them that luxury. It's because for a lot of people, that's just not a possibility. And we want people to understand that all these damned Feminist Wars are clouding the issues. It's not about what you spend your money on, it's that a great many of us simply don't have the money to spend, period. Is it really important if an individual woman spends $40 on leg waxing or on new shoes or on the latest, greatest please-your-man sexbot trinket when we have a huge class of women who don't even have the money to pay the rent? Who don't have the $40 to buy food for their children? Who don't have the money to put gas in the car to get to that college class? When we still have women working as many hours as a man but making less than he does, does it really matter what one person spends their extra cash on? Aren't we losing sight of the issue here?

Labels: feminism, job hunting, money

Ok, so there's yet another flare up of the 'I'm a better feminist than you because I shave/don't shave' argument in GirlBlogVille. I'm pretty sure I've made my views on this clear before, so I won't rehash it, but I think I want to talk about what shaving meant to me when I was a girl. (I don't shave now, because I tend to cut myself and my immune system is not so good thanks to the Lupus. So, why chance an infection when having hairy legs doesn't mean that much to me?)

When I was a girl, I saw being able to shave as a marker of becoming a woman. It seems silly to me now, but when I was a girl, I thought the day I was able to shave would be a day I was a step closer to being a grown woman. Being a woman meant that I was able to make my own decisions. I would be able to decide how to dress, where to go, who to go there with, how to spend my day, where to work, if I was going to do the damned dishes before going to bed -- it meant that I was going to be independent, a full-formed person. And, in my young mind, being able to shave was connected to that. So was getting my period, but that's a very different story.

My mother never taught me how to shave. She never told me when I could start. She never told me not to do it. She let me make my own decision about when to start, how often to shave or not to shave. I knew she shaved, I knew her razor was sitting on the rim of the bathtub and so, one day when I was probably about 12, I decided I should start shaving. And I did. I did a horrible job of it too, but hey, that wasn't what was important to me. What was important was that I was making a decision, for myself, to do this. I shaved weekly (I'm one of those women who has very thin hair and it comes in blonde, so you really can't see it for a long time) until I was in college. Why? Because I wanted to. Because I thought I looked better that way. Because it was my decision.

And when I decided I didn't want to shave anymore? I stopped. It wasn't a huge, dramatic decision for me. I just realized it was taking too much time, I was cutting myself too often (unfortunately, the Lupus can make my hands shake badly. Ugh.), it was too much trouble and well, I didn't really mind having hairy legs. And my boyfriend didn't care one way or the other, so why should I do something I didn't want to do anymore? So. I just stopped. That's all. Over and done with. And that decision felt just as right to me as the decision to start shaving when I was a girl -- because it was mine.

I have never felt pressured to shave my legs and I sure as hell have never felt pressured to get a bikini wax. Makeup? Eh, sometimes I feel I need to. Like on job interviews or to weddings. So, I do. I don't feel any real resentment about that, because it's more like I'm observing a social nicety than giving in to the patriarchy. I mean, men put on dress clothes and clean up a bit more for those occassions too, so it's not like it's completely unequal. I wouldn't take a job that required me to wear makeup every day, though. Or stocking or heels or skirts or dresses. My new job requires me to dress up a bit more, but in no way do I have to wear dresses and skirts and makeup every day, so that's okay with me. (Considering that right now I can wear jeans and tees to work, switching to more structured shirts and pants isn't that big a deal. Makes me feel a bit more adult too.)

So, I don't really get a lot of the angst about shaving/makeup/heels/whatever. Maybe that has to do with the way I was raised. My mother rarely tried to get me to conform to 'feminine' ideals -- once she realized how much that made me rebel, anyway. Sure, she always complimented me when I wore dresses, but she never really tried to force me into them. (Hell, they didn't bitch when I started wearing jeans and tees to church and I know that drove them crazy.) Maybe it has to do with the fact that, for me, making the choice to begin shaving AND making the choice to stop shaving were BOTH empowering. The same with wearing makeup. I made the choice to being when I was a girl and made the choice to stop when I was an adult. Both felt right for me at the time, neither felt like I was giving into any sort of patriarchy. (I always thought makeup was like painting when I was a girl anyway. And gods, did my poor parents hate some of my paintings ;)

I think I'm trying to say that making a decision for yourself is empowering, period. Owning what you're doing and the reasons that you're doing them is empowering. Some of those decisions are easier to make as you get older, because you're more comfortable with yourself and your body and who you are in the world. That's understandable. I couldn't have made the same decisions at 12 as I did at 25. But having the freedom to make those decisions is what matters, it's what allows you to grow and develop and make mistakes and learn and realize who you really are.

Labels: body acceptance, feminism

In January, I know. But it seems to me it can't come soon enough. In my endless ramblings around FemiBlogVille, I've been reading over at Biting Beaver. She's got a whole saga up about trying to get EC and, unfortunately, having it fail. She's now in the process of setting up an abortion, because she and her husband already have three children and cannot afford to have any more. A perfectly well-reasoned decision, one that she and her husband made together, and yet she's getting shit for it. Hell, she got shit for just taking the fucking EC and that's just birth control!

What gets to me is that her situation is not all that unique. Sure, there's the stereotype of slutty, single, teenagers having all the wild one-night-what's-your-name-again sex, but that's not the people who need EC the most. (Although, gods bless 'em, those people need it too.) Married women need it. Women who are already mothers need it. Women who have serious illnessess that could kill us if we got pregant need it. Your mother needs it. Your sister needs it. Your girlfriend needs it. Your best friend needs it. You need it. It's not an Us vs. Them situation, really.

And no one is saying that EC works everytime. It doesn't, unfortunately, but it's better than just rolling the dice and not trying anything after a condom break. It's a decent shot at avoiding an abortion. Everyone wants to lower the abortion rate, right? Even those of us who are radically pro-choice want to lower the abortion rate, if for no reason than why should a woman have to go through that when she doesn't have to? Why should a woman have to take time off work, spend several hundred dollars, wade through protestors who call her a whore and murder, when she could spend 40 bucks on a pill she takes in the privacy of her own home?

And still, there's going to be the problem of finding a drug store what will fill your script when it goes OTC. Gods know, some people are just gonna wanna be kings of their little pharmacy and deny women their pills anyway. So how do you get around that? Well, I know how I plan on doing it. Drugstore.com. That's where I will be ordering my pack, soon as it's legal to do so OTC. They've already announced they plan on selling EC online (they already do, actually. Script only, of course.) I don't know how they'll get around the age limits, but they'll probably require you to use a credit card since you can't have those until you're 18. File that address away -- Drugstore.com. Fuck the bastards. Go around them and get your pills.

Birth control is your friend. Don't let anyone tell you different. The ability to plan your family, to determine with who and how many children you're going to have is vital to being a free human being.

Labels: birth control, feminism

Danke Belledame, for tagging me. I love memes. Shhh. Don't tell, it'll ruin my rep :)

1. I can own property. In fact, I do own some, as part of a sorta family-trust, on the many, many acres of farmland I grew up on. I doubt I'll ever do anything with it, but I can and do own it free and clear, all in my own name.

2. I have an education. Not only was I allowed to learn to read and write, but no one blinked when I applied to college, nor again when I went on for my Masters.

3. I (for the moment) control my own fertility. I have no children because I haven't ever wanted children. I have multiple birth control options, all of which I can obtain legally and (reasonally) affordably from a doctor who won't question my right to have and use them.

4. I have a job. No one looks at me and says "Why don't you just let your husband pay the bills?" No one accuses me of taking a job from a man with a family to support.

5. I can pick my own spouse. Should I choose to marry, no one but me gets to decide who I marry. I cannot be compelled to marry someone of my father's choosing, nor to marry to bring property into the family. Any husband of mine will be a man I want, not someone I have to take. (Although, should I decide I want a wife, I'm gonna have to move to Mass. or Canada. Which may not be such a bad option for me....)

Labels: feminism, fun, meme

So, I've seen this photo a few times this week around the blogosphere. I thought the model was pretty, looked good and was glad she was included in a major runway show. I don't follow fashion, so I don't know a damn thing about the designer, etc. Mostly, it was just something that caught my eye, I appreciated it and moved on.

Well. Over at Feministing it got posted with some questions about what the designer intended by putting her in his otherwise thin-model show. No big deal there, for me, at least. Seems something worth discussing, even if I don't follow fashion.

And then I got to comments. And started to get pissed off.

It devoled quickly from addressing the topic at hand to remarks like "this model does not look good in those clothes" to "no one wants to see this" to "this woman is morbidly obese". She was called not normal, extremely large, couldn't be healthy and fit. There's one poster there who is convinced, completely, that obesity is a horrible, horrible disease and will kill all us fat girls one day.

A few people came in and spoke, for which I'm grateful, but -- again with women bashing women! What the hell? It's not bad enough we all have to live in this society where we're generally undervalued, we have to put up with comments like this from other women?

No one wants to see women like this? Then tell me how this woman is a professional model. (Living in Paris, not America, of course.) If no one wanted to see her, how would she be making a living? No one wants to see a size 20? Have you ever taken a quick skim of all the Plus-Size Porn sites? Not only to people want to see women who look like her, in sexy clothing, they're willing to pay to see them in a great deal less. (Not that I suggest basing your worth or body image on porn, but the fact remains that there is a market for fat porn and there wouldn't be if it were true no one found fat bodies sexually attractive.)

Again with this stupidity! How does my (or any other) fat body affect you? Seriously? I mean, you can't catch it. If you don't want to look, don't look. I don't expect everyone to find me attractive or want to have sex with me or whatever. But I do expect to be able to enter a discussion with people who are supposed to be my fucking allies and not be so offended I leave. I do expect a little respect. I do expect to be able to have a discussion that doesn't devolve into "yes, but fat is unhealthy. My fill-in-family-member has X disease because s/he is fat." No. You relative has X disease for whatever actually causes that disease. Their extra weight may not be helping their health, but it did not, on it's own with no other factors, cause that disease. There is not a single illness that has been proven to be caused by fat. Ever. Why? Because being fat doesn't make you sick! If it did, with our 'obesity crisis' in this country, we should all be dropping dead at alarming rates. And we're not. We're living longer. Because being fat, by itself, isn't going to kill you. Or make you sick.

I'm just really fed up with the fat bashing I've seen lately. There's this post, then there was fucking Dennis Miller on The Daily Show a few nights ago who spent the whole segment making cracks about fat people. I mean, it's the fucking Daily Show! You'd think Miller of all people would have something better to talk about than how fat people are worth mocking. You know, like all that political and religious shit he didn't got to talk about on Katie Couric's show? But noo...let's talk about the fatties!

So you know what? Leave us the fuck alone, really. Especially you people who are supposed to be our feminist/progressive allies. If you don't understand how sizeism is just another form of social repression and control, you haven't been paying attention and I'm just too fucking tired of this shit to explain it to you. Again.

Labels: fat, feminism, stupid people

I've been mulling this post for awhile. I hope it makes sense, but I'm not completely sure I've got it all sussed out just yet. Lately, one some of the Big Feminist Blogs, there's been discussion about abuse, rape, victims and how, if at all, the actions of victims affect Woman as a class.

First, I find it very hard to say to a victim that her actions, whatever they may be, are bad for Women. Mostly, people do whatever they can to survive. I'm lucky. I've never been a victim of rape or sexual abuse or domestic abuse. But, most of my female friends have. (Some of my male friends have too, but right now I'm going to focus on the women. Since we're the topic of conversation.) Of all my female friends, one -- ONE -- beside me has not been a victim of some form of abuse. And I'm not talking about having to hear inappropriate jokes, I mean abuse. Rape, child abuse, abusive boyfriends -- things that, by any definition, are real abuse. Of all my friends, two of us have managed to make it to 32 without having to deal with it personally. It's crazy that that can happen. What's crazier is that none of my friends would be included in the abuse/rape statistics compiled every year -- because none of them reported it.

My best friend was in a relationship with a man who physcially abused and raped her repeatedly over a period of months. She didn't tell anyone at first, not even me and she knew I'd be supportive and help her anyway I could. She didn't feel she could tell anyone. I'm not sure why, exactly, but she couldn't tell anyone. She's an intelligent woman. She's educated, she's got a decent job, she's assertive in pretty much any way -- but when she became a victim, she couldn't tell anyone. She finally got away from the Bastard, but it took her a little while. When I found out what he was doing, I wanted to shake her, tell her to call the cops and put the fucker in jail. But she wouldn't, she couldn't. And I had to accept that, like it or not, because my coming down on her, telling her she was acting dumbly, that she knew better than to accept that behavior, would only have made the situation worse. She did know, deep inside, that she didn't deserve that behavior. And yet, when she found it happening to her, she wasn't able to access that knowledge for months. But she did it, and moved on, when she was capable of it.

But it didn't end there, of course. She got away from the Bastard, but she still had to live with what he did to her. What he made her feel and what he made her think about herself. It led her to flit from relationship to relationship (although, I don't know if she thinks that's what was behind her behavior) often with men who were not good for her, that she didn't really like, but she felt like she needed to be in a relationship with someone. I worry about her, because she won't talk to her counselor about any of her Man Issues and I don't want her to suffer from this any longer than she has too. But I know I can't tell her how to react to this situation, because I've never been through it myself. I can only imagine how I'd feel if I had. I can't imagine how I'd react and I certainly wouldn't want to have to defend those actions to anyone else.

I have another friend who was molested as a child. She didn't tell anyone about it until she was nearly 30. She was molested by a family member when she was about 8. Never said a word to anyone, but she always had problems with relationships. She'd had maybe a dozen dates in her entire life, no real relationships, no boyfriends -- because she couldn't stand to have anyone touch her. It freaked her out, brought back memories. Her whole life, this thing haunts her. Was she wrong to react the way she did? Was she wrong not to tell anyone? Was she wrong to not be able to have an adult relationship? And should she have to defend her choices to anyone?

The problem I have with people who go on and on about hurting Women, is that they often forget that there are lower-case women of flesh-and-blood who are living through these horrors. Yes, feminists have a responsiblity to Women as a class, but they have an even larger responsibility to women as individuals. Even if we manage to overthrow the Patriarchy, we'll still be stuck with the individuals who made up the system before.

I like theory. I'm pretty good at it. I enjoy thinking (perhaps too much sometimes.) But any theory has to have a practical application. If fighting the patriarchy leaves women like my friends feeling that they have to defend the decisions they made in order to survive their abuse, we need to find a new game plan. What good is helping Women as a class when individual women are left bleeding on the sidelines?

Labels: abuse, feminism, rape

Maybe I'm lucky, or maybe I'm just odd, but I haven't really experienced the pressure to conform my appearance to social standards in ways most women seem too. Maybe it comes from the fact that I'm a fat girl and society has just given up on getting me to look the way it wants me to. Or maybe I've been getting pressured, but I just haven't noticed it. A few places I read have been talking about clothing/appearance choices lately (See here for example.) and it's got me thinking -- why do I choose to wear the things I wear? Why do I choose to style my hair like I do? To wear or not wear make-up? How much of it is my own free choice and how much of it is stuff I picked up from society?

When I was a little girl, my mother dressed me in pretty dresses (lots of yellow ones, for some reason) and shoes and barrettes and all the girly things that little girls are dressed in. I don't remember much of it, but there are pictures, so I know it is so. When I was old enough, I stopped wearing dressed. I don't like them. I don't like skirts, either. It's hard for me to move in them, it's hard for me to sit comfortably and I don't like the picture of me they present to the world at large. Part of that is because my mother wears dresses every Sunday and gets all prettied-up when she goes out and entertains. And, well, I had a decided need to rebel against my mother. But that was when I was a teenager. To this day, I don't wear dresses unless I have to. Why? Because I don't like them. I honestly don't. I don't feel comfortable in them, I don't like that it tells the world I'm a "girly" girl (because I'm so not). I don't like the expectation that I'm going to wear them, just because I'm female.

But mostly, it's comfort. I like the way pants feel. I like the way shorts feel, too. Even though the world wants to tell me I'm too fat to wear shorts, I don't care. They're comfortable. When it's hot, they're cool. I want to be cool and comfortable, not hot and cranky. Ergo, I wear shorts in the summer and pants to work. I don't think about if they make me look sexy. I don't think about if they'll make people look at me. I just think I want to be comfortable.

Some of that comes, I think, from growing up on a farm. There was a lot of work to do and you might as well be comfortable doing it. I also prefer to go barefoot. Because that feels better to me. I like the feeling of the grass or the rock or the dirt under my feet. The first thing I do, every day, when I get home from work, it take off my shoes. And the shoes I do wear are very specific -- sandals in the summer, boots in the winter. I don't wear tennis shoes or jogging shoes and I absolutely, never, ever wear heels. I cannot walk in heels, they make my feet hurt and why would I do that to myself?

I like bright colors and soft fabrics. I like funky patterns and interesting jewelry. I hate mainstream fashion, partially because none of it is made for a body like mine and partially because, aethetically, I find it displeasing. But where do those preferences come from?

I think what I'm asking is, the portion of our choices made because we simply like something, how much is that influenced by where we come from? If I hadn't grown up on a farm or had a mother who is stereotypically feminine, would I still have the same preferences I have? If I had grown up in a city and had a mother who eshewed 'girly' things, would I still prefer a bohemian look? Or would I be one of those women who wears heels and hose and make-up everyday?

I'm not making any judgements on what any woman wears, by the way. I'm assuming, at least on some level, that she dresses the way she dresses because she's getting something out of it. Maybe she enjoys it, maybe she's using it to send certain messages, maybe she's dressing to get ahead in her career. Who knows? I certainly don't, no more than she knows why I dress like I do. I'm just wonder if society, in general, has as big an impact on our clothing/appearance choices as some bloggers suggest. I'm not doubting it has an impact, but I'm wondering if maybe our family of origin has the bigger influence.

Labels: clothing, fat, feminism

This doesn't surprise me, at all. It's still sad though. Women are getting the shaft again, this time in the Katrina recovery. In the best of times, a disproportionate number of women are living in poverty, particularly women raising children on their own. Throw in a little natural disaster and it's a recipe for economic disaster. Add a liberal dose of southern sexism and, well. . .

NEW ORLEANS (AP) — Low-income women have been slow to return to New Orleans since Hurricane Katrina and many who have returned are not benefiting from the recovering city’s construction labor market, a report released Friday said.

“Those who have managed to get back are clearly struggling,” Avis Jones-DeWeever, director of the Washington-based Institute for Women’s Policy Research, said at a news conference in front of City Hall.

She cited a quadruple increase in food stamp use in the metropolitan area as evidence of the hard times for many women in the New Orleans metropolitan area.

Gleaning its findings from recent U.S. Census and other government data, the report said the number of single mothers in the area has dropped from 10 percent before Katrina to about 6 percent now.

The report also said the number of low-income female-led households dropped from 35 percent before the storm to 18 percent after.

The report said women in Louisiana earned less than men and had fewer opportunities than men before Katrina, and that their plight will be worsened with the unequal playing field that was created after the storm.

One way of changing this would be for women to be hired in the construction fields, new City Council woman Shelley Midura said.

“Women can break Sheetrock, women can wire homes, and women can drive trucks,” Midura said. “These are good-paying jobs.”

Beth Willinger of Tulane University’s Center for Research on Women said the labor force needs to be “totally integrated” both in terms of gender and race.

“But first we need to bring our women home,” she said.

Jones-DeWeever was joined by several prominent women, including Midura and state Rep. Karen Carter, a Democrat and a contender in a Nov. 7 congressional race for the seat of U.S. Rep. William Jefferson, who is running for re-election.

It's absolutely true that women can do construction work, for the most part. I don't do construction myself, so I don't know about the entire realm of construction jobs, but women can certain drive trucks and swing hammers and do electrical work and...well, just about anything. But, they don't get the job training and, if they do, they don't get hired. Why? Well, because there are men wanting those jobs too. Men with wives and children they need to take care of, ya know. And well, men are just better at these sort of things. Why don't you go get yourself a nice secretarial job, huh? Sure. I'm sure she would, but you have to have businesses for those kinds of jobs and hey, aren't you building those businesses right now? So, if they don't exist yet, how does that 'women's work' exist yet? Right. It doesn't. But you won't let her have a hammer or the keys to the forklift, so what's she supposed to do?

Of course, this isn't anything new. It's pretty standard operating procedure. And it's a shitty practice when things are running smoothly, but now? Now when you've got insane unemployment, very little government assistance and -- I love this part -- a government that doesn't want to rebuild it's assistance programs...(Seriously, we had people debating on whether they should rebuild assisted housing in New Orleans. They just didn't want to do it. Because then those poor people would come back. And they've suspended most of the social welfare programs, or at least they had. Some of them may have been reinstated by now.)

I fear that New Orleans, when it's rebuilt, is going to be a white-washed, personality-less Generic City. More men than women, more white than black, more bland and boring than colorful and alive.

Labels: feminism, Katrina

You make a deal with the devil, and the devil wants his due. The fundies who put those Monkies in the White House are upset that Plan B may soon be available over the counter. Of course they are. Because women being able to control their fertility through any method but abstinance pisses them off.

WASHINGTON (AP) — Anti-abortion groups are urging President Bush to withdraw his nominee to head the Food and Drug Administration, angry that the agency may allow nonprescription sales of the morning-after pill.

Dr. Andrew von Eschenbach already is facing a roadblock from the other side of that issue. Democrats are upset that the FDA has long delayed settling the three-year debate over whether at least some women could buy the emergency contraceptive without a doctor’s note.

Amid the political accusations, the FDA is contacting both the anti-abortion groups and their main opponent, Planned Parenthood, to hear their last-minute arguments over the fate of the drug, called Plan B.

“I gave them an earful,” said Wendy Wright, president of Concerned Women for America, which has led opposition to nonprescription sales of the emergency contraceptive. She believes that her earlier input, during an official public comment period, was ignored.

“It is very late in the game and that adds to our fury over this,” Wright said.

Her earlier input was ignored? I'm sorry, didn't she get what she wanted? Hasn't the FDA stalled and stalled and stalled some more in letting women purchase a research-tested, perfectly legal medication? Didn't she get what she wanted in all those pregnancies that could have been avoided but ended in abortion were concieved anyway? Didn't she get what she wanted in the fears and panic of all those women who had to endure those pregnancies and/or abortions? I mean, that is what she wants, isn't it? Oh sure, maybe not in a blatant, pre-thoughtout way, but that's what her policies will allow to happen. The truth is, condoms break. People get stupid and have sex without protection. It's dumb, it's arguably irresponsible, but it's no reason to force them into parenthood when they're not ready. Nor is it a reason to force them to undergo an abortion when they're not ready. And yes, I realize no one is literally putting a gun to women's heads, but come on. If you don't have the economic or emotional resources to carry, deliver and raise a child, that's force too.

“If the president pushes for this nominee, he is only going to undercut the support his own party needs in the elections,” said Paul Chaim Schenck, director of the National Pro-Life Action Center.

If we don't get what we want, we won't vote for you again! Then see how you like it when those evil Democrats take over and women get to have sex, sex, sex all the time and don't have to pop out babies!

Plan B is a high dose of a drug found in many regular birth control pills that, taken within 72 hours of unprotected sex, can lower the risk of pregnancy by up to 89 percent. If a woman already is pregnant, the pills have no effect.

The pills prevent ovulation or fertilization of an egg. They also may prevent a fertilized egg from implanting into the uterus, considered the medical definition of pregnancy, although recent research suggests that’s not likely. However, if true, pill opponents argue that would be tantamount to abortion.

A year ago, the FDA indefinitely postponed a decision on Plan B, saying it needed to determine how to enforce age restrictions on the drug’s sales, a process that would require the writing of new regulations.

On July 31, von Eschenbach told Plan B manufacturer Barr Pharmaceuticals Inc. that step was no longer necessary. He said the FDA would consider allowing nonprescription sales of Plan B, but only for adult women. It would remain prescription-only for those 17 and younger.

Dear, Gods! Did a news report actually get the details of Plan B correct? No proof it prevents implantation? No effect on already existing pregnancies? Perish the thought of truth!

And it's annoying that young girls need to have 'scripts, but it's also fairly simple to get around. I'd happily buy pills for any of my young cousins that need them, and they know that already. Still, it's not a complete win. And it's still not a done deal. So who knows? Maybe the forced-pregnancy forces will win anyway.

Labels: birth control, feminism, fundies, politics, religion

Update:No sooner had I got back to work when I got an email from the ACLU saying the school system has changed its mind. Rather than face a court case, which they would inveriably lose, they decided to stick with mixed-gender classes. See, Michelle? You can make a difference in the world. So don't ever stop standing up for what you believe in.


Girls like this give me hope for the future of the feminist movement. Thirteen-years-old and she knows her own mind, knows what she wants and she's not afraid to ask for it. If I had a daughter, I'd want her to be this brave and certain.


NEW ORLEANS (AP) — A 13-year-old scuba diver, firefighter cadet and kung fu student taken the Livingston Parish School Board to court over its plans to segregate her middle school by sex.

The American Civil Liberties Union filed the lawsuit Wednesday in Baton Rouge federal court for Michelle Selden, who is scheduled to start eighth grade in one week at Southside Junior High School, and her parents, Darren and Rhonda Selde

. . .

Supporters of the separate classes argue that boys and girls learn differently, and separating them can help both do better. Critics compare it to “separate but equal” segregation-era classrooms.

In a statement filed along with the lawsuit, the student wrote, “I have always had boys in my classes before when I have gone to school. I don’t think that having boys in the class has made it hard for me to learn. I think that boys and girls should be treated the same way by teachers and that is unfair for girls to be taught one way and boys to be taught another.”

. . .

According to the lawsuit, one of the experts cited by the school system contends “that because of biological differences in the brain, boys need to practice pursuing and killing prey, while girls need to practice taking care of babies. As a result, boys should be permitted to roughhouse during recess and play contact sports, to learn the rules of aggression. Such play is more dangerous for girls, because girls are less biologically able to manage aggression.”

. . .

“I don’t want to be required to attend all-female classes when I go back to school,” Michelle Selden wrote in the court filing. “I don’t agree that all girls learn one way and all boys learn another way. I don’t agree that all girls behave one way and all boys behave another way.

“I just became certified as a scuba diver. I am a firefighter cadet, which is a junior volunteer firefighter. I have a purple belt in Shaolin Kung Fu. I don’t know whether most girls would be interested in these things or not. I have done these things because I wanted to, whether or not the ‘average girl’ would want to.”

Seriously, listen to her. And listen to the idiots who want to make her stick to classes for girls-only. Girls need to practice taking care of babies?? What? Boys need to hunt and kill? Since when? What the hell? Girls don't need to roughhouse? Huh? Gee, someone should have told me that when I was a girl. Maybe then I wouldn't have been playing football with the boys. Or beating them up when they pissed me off. I had no idea I wasn't able to manage aggression! Clearly, that's why I'm single at my ripe old age. It all makes so much sense now.

Mandatory same-sex classes are illegal. Voluntary ones aren't. And, depending on the individual person, age and development, they can be useful. However, there's no reason to force gender segregation. How, exactly, are kids supposed to learn how to socialize if we keep them apart? How, exactly, are they going to navigate those really fucked-up waters of early adolescence if they are told they're only capable of relating to their own gender? That they are fundamentally different than the opposite gender? What kind of society is that going to create? If my daughter wanted to be in classes with boys and the state wasn't going to let her, I'd sure as hell file suit. Reinforcing gender stereotypes is so not the business the state should be in. It's bad enough girls have to deal with society's screwed up version of girlhood. They don't need it from schools. Schools are to teach, to educate, not to instill gender 'norms'.

Labels: ACLU, feminism, lawsuit

So, I'm still not clear just what the hell "choice" feminism is, but Yawning Lion has thoughtfully decided to tell the world what radical feminism is. Or well, actually she just calls it plain feminism.

Alas, I seem to not be a feminist by her definition.

That would break my heart, but since I've never really given a fuck what other people said about me, I'm surprisingly tear-free.

(Actually, I don't mean to sound too snarky. I like reading her blog and think she's a pretty cool person. I don't agree with a lot of what she says, but I respect her for being able to articulate her beliefs and doing her best to live by them. I also think we've got a lot of common ground and could probably hang out easily enough.)

Actually, I agree with a hell of a lot of things on YL's list. I also disagree with lots of 'em too. And, being the cranky, argumenative sorta girl I am, I'm just gonna talk about the stuff I disagree with. Because it's more fun than being an echo chamber.

So, here we go: Things I Disagree with Yawning Lion About or Why I'm not a Radical Lesbian Separatist Feminist:

First, there's the small point that I'm not a lesbian. I do agree, however, that we can choice our sexual behavior. I don't believe we choose our orientation, but I do believe we can choice to have sex with only men or only women or some mixture of the two. Personally, I prefer the mixture. It is certainly within my realm of possiblity to devote myself exclusively to women. I could date and love only women for the rest of my life and, it's possible, I'd be perfectly happy that way. However, I don't want to. I don't want to deny myself the company of men. I don't want to deny myself the differences between us. I don't want to deny myself the chance to experience being with a body so very different than mine. I don't want to deny the men I meet the chance to know me, to learn from me, to grow as people by taking part in my experiences. Quite simply, I'd no sooner deny myself the joy of being with a man as I would the joy of being with a woman. I'm not wired that way and while I could choose to cut men from my life, that would be a half-life for me and frankly, I want a whole life.

Pretty much the only thing on her "feminist oppose" list that I have a problem with is the complusive heterosexuality. Not that I'm not opposed to it, it just strikes me as hypocritical that it seems to be okay to insist on compulsive homosexuality or celibacy while insisting that no one has the right to force women to be straight. I agree, no one has the right to force you to be straight or to expect you to be straight or to expect you to be sexual at all. On the same hand, no one has the right to force you into homosexuality or bisexuality or any other sexuality either. Sex is personal, albeit with political ramifications. And the fact is, women who are guilted or coerced into any sex act, whether by force or by threatened exclusion from "the club", are being abused. Compulsive homosexuality or celibacy is sexual assault, as damaging as any other form of sexual assault. No true feminist is going to insist on this kind of litmus test, because feminist are opposed to sexual violence and abuse in any and all forms.

Actually, okay. There are other things on that list of "feminists oppose" that I disagree with, but they're not such a big deal for me to post about them. I can address them later, if anyone wants me to. Moving on.

On to the behavior section. Where do I begin? Okay, I'll start with the big ones for me. I've already address the "not having sex with men." Now, let's move on to "not having children." Again with the proscribing behavior! How is this any different than the Religious Right demanding that abortion be outlawed and that pregnant women be forced to give birth and/or die due to pregnancy complications? It all boils down to control of reproduction. Personally, I'm not a kid person. I've got a list of reasons not to have kids. However, if everyone agreed with me, we'd all die out soon enough. Which may not be a bad thing for the planet, but it's not so good for those of us who think the human race deserves to keep going. I'd say it's feminist to not have more children than you can provide for. I'd say it's feminist to exercise birth control and family planning. I'd say it's feminist to not have children if you're not the sort of woman who doesn't want/can't raise children. I wouldn't say it's feminist to just "not have children." Where would all the new feminists come from then? Sure, we can convert the masses, but that hasn't been going so well for us lately. And it won't change, not when we're telling them they have to be childless lesbians.

The image issues. Make-up, heels, body hair! Personally? Eh. I wear a little concealer and powder when my face is broken out or I'm having a flare up. And I absolutely adore lipgloss. But otherwise? I could care less about make-up. Usually, I don't wear anything. My skin is better for it, most of my acne disappearing when I stopped wearing make-up and found a decent cleanser. But not wearing make-up, for me, has zero to do with being a feminist. It has to do with doing what makes me happy. I never wear heels, because they hurt my feet and I don't like pain. I'm also nearly 6 foot tall, so wearing them makes me look like an Amazon. Which I like, but you know. Pain is bad, mmkay? And I only remove the hair from my legs when I'm going to the doctor, because I want to be certain the doctor can see any new bruises/Lupus related skin issues clearly. I do admit to shaving my armpits regularly, because if I don't I get ingrown hairs and that fucking hurts. See: pain is bad. And, I suppose, my doing those things does have something to do with feminism after all. I do/don't do what I like because I know, as a woman, that my choices are valid and correct for me. I don't feel compelled to wear make-up or shave. I haven't since junior high when I decided, since I was too big and smart to be popular, to fuck it all and do what made me happy. (Thus magically turning myself from 'weird and geeky' to 'indie and cool' and able to have cross-clique friendships by doing nothing more than being myself. It was a strange, strange world, Junior High.) Anyway, does all that make me somehow more feminist than a woman who wears heels and makeup and shaves every day? I don't think so. It would depend on her motivation. Does she do those things because she wants to or because she feels she has to? And even if she does it because she feels compelled to, that doesn't make her less feminist than me, it just makes me luckier that I've got a job and social life that accepts me as I am. If (when, dammit!) I change jobs, it's likely that I'm going to have to modify my routine. I'm willing to make concessions, because I want the benefits. I'm willing to wear a bit more make-up daily and to dehair my legs more than twice a year. But I'm not going to wear heels and I'm not going to shave daily. That's bullshit. In the end, all this stuff is just image, not substance. And it's distracting from the real problems -- poverty, abuse, the fucking Religious Wrong, sex trafficking, civil rights violations, the whole fucking Patriarchy. If they can get us bitching at each other about wearing fucking eyeshadow, we won't have the time or energy to spend on the fact that they're stripping our basic rights away on a daily basis.

So, anyway. Reasons I'm not a Lesbian Separatist Feminist. I really don't know what "kind" of feminist I am, but I do know I am one. Not a radical one, which is funny because this may be the first time in my life I've been in the non-radical end of anything. My mother would be pleased. (Although, by her reckoning, I'm definately a radical feminist. Go figure.)

Labels: feminism

Times like this, I feel like a Bad Feminist (tm). There's a convo going on at Alas, a Blog about the "new" pill that allows a woman to skip her period. And lots of people are talking about how periods are stigmitized and women are Othered by society for having them. And those are all good points and I agree those are things that should be discussed.

But I just don't want my period. I don't. I don't love it, I don't need it, I don't feel any attachment to it. Give me a pill to make it stop and I'm a happy girl. Seriously. It's just blood. It doesn't mean anything more to me than a cut on my finger does. I have no plans to ever have children, so that basic function isn't even something I really need.

I object to people, particularly other women, trying to guilt me into loving my period. I just don't love it. I don't. It's not in me, okay? I don't think about it too much, because my periods themselves aren't really big events. I'm one of those lucky women who are very regular, so I'm rarely surprised by it. It's always the same length, always about the same amount of blood. Which, for me, isn't much. I'm really lucky. I don't have to change pads but once a day. So, really, for me it's kind of a non-event. There are five days a month when I can't wear white. Big deal. Whoo hoo. Where's the party?

No one has ever tried to make me feel guilty or ashamed because of my period. At least, not since I got past puberty. Sure, at that age people were weird about it. But frankly, kids at that age are weird about everything. No one has ever tried to make me not do things because I've got my period. There are things I don't like to do on my period -- not wild about swimming -- but really? It's a non-issue. There are exceptions. Sometimes I get really bad ones and have to double up my pain meds. And I've had a few instances where the pain was so bad I stayed home from work. But that's maybe once or twice a year. On the whole, eh. I don't really care so much. And if I don't care so much, and it doesn't matter to me, why should I be compelled to experience it?

Again, it's one of those "My body, my choice" issues to me. I don't get why this is even an issue. (Now, I understand why the marketing of the pill is an issue. But that's not the same issue and yet, it all gets dumped together.)

While my period is no problem, I do have a problem with PMS. Let me state this really clearly -- I have a problem with PMS. Which makes me feel kinda bad, since in most parts I agree with Happy's take on it.

For more women, PMS isn't a big problem. For me? Yeah. It is. Actually, my doctors say I'm borderline PMDD which is bad, bad, bad. So, I'm the exception to the PMS isn't a huge deal rule. Which makes me not want to talk about it too much, since I don't want my experiences to be thrown up against women in general.

For me, the two weeks before my period are generally very rough. It varies from month to month, but usually I start to get really, really angry. I mean irrationally angry. I got pissed off once because I had to pay for my gas before I could pump it. I was just furious and why? My rational mind knows it's no big deal. But I was just...it was crazy. I've gotten so pissed off at people I wouldn't speak to them for weeks. For no real reason, except that my brain chemistry was Fucked. Up.

So, explain to me please, why I (and people around me!) have to endure that trauma when there's a pill that could put an end to it all? Since my PMS/PMDD is brought about my changing hormone levels and the BC pill can stablize/regulate/suppress that shifting, why shouldn't I take it?

If I can have a better life through pharmacology, why shouldn't I?

Labels: feminism, periods

They don't want to talk, talk, talk about it.
They want to tiptoe walk around it.
Wave the flag and mindlessly salute.
--Anti Flag

So, I'm having lunch with a friend today. She's a smart woman. She's educated, articulate, the very model of modern middle-class America.

And she's got no clue what's going on in the world.

We were talking about me looking for a new job (which I do endlessly) and I mentioned I couldn't live in South Dakota or Kansas and I really needed to move out of Louisiana. And she asked why not Kansas or S. Dakota? ('Cause no one questions why I need to leave Louisiana, oddly enough.) And I mention the new abortion laws in S.D and how the attorney general in Kansas keeps trying to get medical records from clinics that perform abortions and she's like What?

So, I explain everything to her. And she's like...that's stupid. Well, duh. But she was also like, well I can't really take a position on abortion. But she also says she'd never force a woman to have a child against her will. And she looked kinda freaked when I told her that made her pro-choice. Because the other side has done such a good job corrupting what pro-choice actually means that people who are pro-choice don't even realize it! And when I told her what some places are trying to do with birth control (the whole pharmacists can refuse to fill scripts bit) she was like...that's dumb. Well, duh.

But she doesn't know any of this unless I tell her. If she didn't have me as a friend, she'd blithely go about her life not thinking about any of this. Or about how the President blatantly violated the 4th Amendment with his wiretapping programs. Or how his lies to get us into war are certainly grounds for impeachment. Or about any of the shit going on in our world. Because she just...I don't know.

I keep trying to figure out how this happens. How do people who are otherwise intelligent people become so completely disconnected with what's going on in our country? She doesn't like the president. She doesn't like what he's doing. But she doesn't know why she doesn't like it. It's just a vague sense of dislike. Which is good, but...if you don't know what's going on, how can you make informed choices?

This is how bad things happen. When good people don't pay attention, dictators take over. The truth is, most people are decent, good people. They don't want to hurt others, they don't want to force their views on other people. They just want to be left alone to live their life in peace and they want for other people to have that same right. And my friend, like a lot of people, really thinks that all this stuff doesn't affect her. She's fairly certain, if she got pregnant, she'd have the baby even if it wasn't planned. Which is great, for her. She's got a good job, she's got a house of her own, she's got a family that would support her. She could have an unexpected child with no more trouble than most children bring. (Unless, of course, she got sick or there was something wrong with the baby...we didn't even get that far into the conversation.)

But the problem is, it doesn't matter if these things don't affect you. They affect other people in profound ways. They contribute to a society where the poor are seen as disposable, as somehow less than. You can see it all around, if you just open your eyes and look. The whole immigrant debate just makes my blood boil. If we'd just enforce the laws we already have, this wouldn't be an issue. If we stopped treating our neighbors like our enemies, this wouldn't be a problem. The fact is migrant workers contribute to our economy is important ways (especially here in the south), take those people away and you're not going to find enough willing Americans to take their place. Oh, there are doubtlessly people who are willing to do their jobs. I don't doubt that at all. But I do doubt they're willing to work for the wages the immigrants will work. I doubt they'd be willing to be paid in cash, so the business owners don't have to pay taxes on them. Some of them might, sure. But not in the numbers necessary. So, how about instead of making this all about punishing "those people" we stop acting like idiots and figure out a way for everyone to get what they want in a way that benefits everyone?

What's with the need to punish? Does that ever work? And if it did work, wouldn't it have worked by now? Where does the urge to be all alpha and dominating come from? I mean, for gods sake, Mexico is our friend! They're not our enemy. If we were willing to work with them, we could come up with a plan that would strengthen both our economies, build some ties that will help us with the rest of the world and you know, not be such asses.

The thing is, I don't think most people actually think about things. I think they go about, not aware of what's really going on, and so long as they have the things they want or think they need, they just don't see "those things" as important. Which is really sad, because eventually, it's going to affect the way they live. (Like, right now, it's nearly impossible for me to find a new job. It shouldn't be. I've got a MA and almost 10 years work experience. But it's almost impossible for me to even get interviews. If I wanted to do low skilled work, sure, I could find that. I could get a job at a burger joint or something. But finding something that pays the bills? Nearly impossible. And that's a direct result of the screwed up economy we've got going on now. It's cheaper to hire people just out of college than to hire someone with experience and companies know it.)

Here's the thing -- believe whatever you believe about the world and politics, but know why you believe it. I respect anyone who has a veiw different than mine if they can explain to me why they feel that way. I won't agree and it's doubtfull anyone is going to pursuade me otherwise, but I can respect it. We can have a discussion about things in a way that doesn't turn into insulting and yelling. But you have to know why you think things. You need to be aware of the influences at work. You need to realize that a lot of what we see or are told here in this country isn't the full story. You need to be willing to listen to other people in other places talk about their lives and experiences and how what our country has done has affected them. Have your beliefs, whatever they are, but have them because you really believe them and you've thought about them, not because it's how things have always been or because you don't think "those things" affect you. Because they do and they will and if you don't know who you are and why you hold your beliefs, you're going to be a really easy person to lead around by the nose.

Labels: abortion, feminism, politics

Advisory committee recommends routine vaccination of 11- and 12-year-old girls against cervical cancer
By MIKE STOBBE
Associated Press Writer

ATLANTA (AP) -- Taking up a potentially explosive issue among religious conservatives, an influential government advisory panel Thursday recommended that 11- and 12-year-old girls be routinely vaccinated against the sexually transmitted virus that causes cervical cancer.

The Advisory Committee on Immunization Practices also said the shots can be started for girls as young as 9, at the discretion of their doctors.

The committee's recommendations usually are accepted by federal health officials, and influence insurance coverage for vaccinations.

Gardasil, made by Merck & Co., is the first vaccine specifically designed to prevent cancer. Approved earlier this month by the Food and Drug Administration for females ages 9 to 26, it protects against strains of the human papilloma virus, or HPV, which causes cervical, vulvar and vaginal cancers and genital warts.

Some health officials had girded themselves for arguments from religious conservatives and others that vaccinating youngsters against the sexually transmitted virus might make them more likely to have sex. But the controversy never materialized in the panel's public meetings.

Earlier this year, the Family Research Council, a conservative group, did not speak out against giving the HPV shot to young girls. The organization mainly opposes making it one of the vaccines required before youngsters can enroll in school, said the group's policy analyst, Moira Gaul.

Health officials estimate that more than 50 percent of sexually active women and men will be infected with one or more types of HPV in their lifetimes. Vaccine proponents say it could dramatically reduce the nearly 4,000 cervical cancer deaths that occur each year in the United States.

The vaccine comes as a $360 series of three shots, and in tests has been highly effective against HPV. The vaccine is formulated to address the subtypes of HPV responsible for 70 percent of cervical cancer cases and 90 percent of genital warts.

Scientists say the vaccine is most effective when given to girls before they become sexually active, and some girls become active before their teens. About 7 percent of children have had sexual intercourse before age 13, and about a quarter of boys and girls have had sex by age 15, according to government surveys.

In a public comment session at Thursday's meeting, all nine speakers supported recommending the vaccine to females 9 to 26, the broadest possible group under FDA license. The speakers included a state senator from Maryland and the chief medical officer of AmeriChoice, a UnitedHealth Group company that manages state Medicaid programs.

The panel focused on 11- to 12-year-olds in part because children that age already routinely get two other shots.
Several speakers also called for the immunization of boys, as soon as studies are completed on the vaccine's safety and effectiveness for males. HPV has been linked to penile, anal, and head and neck cancers and a tumor-like condition of the respiratory tract.

Merck officials said clinical effectiveness studies in males should be completed by 2008.

Merck officials also said they can provide the more than 19 million doses that health officials expect would be used in the next year.
---------------

Certain Fundy groups have already voice opposition to mandating this vaccine. I'm sure they'll be making their voices heard soon, and I'll happily post about 'em. 'Cause I'd love to see the Fundy church, in all it's horrid forms, crumble and be swallowed by the earth. 'cept that would give the earth heartburn and I don't want that. Anyway, I think this is awesome and I'd get the bloody vaccine myself if my doctor would let me. Also, if I ever have a daughter? She's totally getting this. Provided it proves safe, of course. But I'm believe they've already proved that, so....why would anyone not want their daughters to be protected against cervical cancer? I just can't understand that...because trust me, you're not thinking about cancer when you're having sex.

Labels: feminism, fundies, medication

Since I haven't made it into work this morning to pull the story off the wire, I'm linking up to this post on Feministing. It seems our illustrious governor has declared she will sign our draconian abortion ban when it gets to her desk. And I shake with joy. Or was that terror? No rape or incest exception and you have to jump through hoops for medical exceptions. Go Blanco. Way to make a person glad she voted for you.

We're never going to have a pro-choice governor in this state, not one that will actually act on her/his principals anyway. Blanco always gave the impression that she was, at least moderately, pro-choice. Yes, she's in favor of adoption. Well, so am I. That's how I got my amazing neice. But that doesn't mean I'm against a woman having the right to choice whether to have a child in the first place. Still, this place isn't set up so that you can be pro-choice and hold any high public office. Oh, you may get on the school board. And you may get on the water board. Or the police jury. Bodies that have no legislative power over the state as a whole. But you're not going to be the governor. Maybe not even the lt. gov. Although, Mitch does seem to be pro-life. I haven't checked into that, but he gives that impression.

The majority of our population is rural. They're poor. They're not terribly educated. Now, there's nothing inherently wrong with any of those things. I grew up in a rural, poor, not-so-educated family. I'm not judging people for their circumstance. There are some really wonderful people here. If there weren't, there's no way anyone would stay in this damned state. But you know, if you need something, you're neighbors are going to help you out, even if they don't really have the help to spare. So it bugs me when I see people talking about how backwards and stupid the people are down here. Some of them are, sure. But then, so are over half of the politicians in Washington, or we wouldn't still be having an abortion debate, would we?

People here tend to be simple. Faith, family, a little fun on the weekends. That's all they ask. And, if one of their daughters was pregnant, most people would do their best to help her out. Sometimes that means getting her to the clinic in Shreveport or Baton Rouge or New Orleans. But usually, that means letting her move back into the house, giving her a room and tracking down some baby stuff. And for some women, that's just what they need. But not for everyone. Only, people around here seem to think there's only one way to do things. If you're pregnant, you've got to have baby. Until it happens to someone they love and they watch them freak out and go nuts and they think, well, maybe. This time is different. It's not all those other women. Let me call the clinic.

Most of our people don't really understand conception. Most of the believe that when you have sex, you get pregnant at the same time. That night. Instantly. Try to explain to them it can take days and they won't believe you. Because it doesn't seem to make sense. Most people don't understand how an embryo develops. They believe it looks like an itty, bitty baby from the moment of conception. Try to explain otherwise to them. Most people don't believe you when you tell them that the miscarriage rate is exceedingly high. (Is it between 40 and 60 percent? I don't have the statistics right at hand and I don't want to quote something I'm not sure about.) They don't believe that those fertilized, and therefore living human beings, are being flushed away every month. That just doesn't make sense. People like things that make sense. If they have to think too hard about them, they just won't believe them. Because that's easier.

They honestly believe that every woman wants to be a mother. Those that say they don't just don't realize they do, that's all. Once they have that baby, regardless of how it was conceived or how much damage it does to them getting here, they'll see the light. For the majority of people down here, that is a sincere belief. Most people don't want to punish women, exactly. That's just a side effect for them. I'm almost 32 and I get the strangest looks from people when I tell them, no I don't have children and no, I don't want them. Most of the time, they just laugh and tell me I'll change my mind when I have one. As if I'd have one if I didn't want to? But you see, that's the mentality here. ALL women wants babies, they just don't know it yet. And it's not as if (most) of those kids would go unloved. Family is such a huge thing here, any baby would be welcomed in most families. (There are, of course, exceptions.) So, for a lot of people, while they may understand on an intellectual level who women object to being forced to have children, they see that as 'well, she simply doesn't know what she really wants."

The ultimate patronizing, big daddy statement you can imagine. Of course. But you'll notice, there's not move to force the fathers of these children to take care of them? Why? Again, that goes back to family. (Ironic, isn't it?) Well, she's got her parents and her brother and her sister and her grandparents. She doesn't need my help raising that baby. And so, off daddy skips. I've talked to DA and child support enforcement people -- it's astonishingly hard to force a man to pay child support. They garnish wages, he takes a job working for cash. They put a hold on his tax returns, he stops filing. And since he's working for cash, there's no paper trail to say he did actually earn any money to tax. Or, he'll stop working all together. They passed a law recently allowing the state to suspend licenses of men who don't pay child support. All license -- drivers, medical, legal, hunting, fishing, etc. The only ones that really affected were those who needed their license to work. Men drive without license, they hunt,they fish, they do whatever without a license. Because the fine for being caught without one is so very small, it doesn't matter.

So, we have a state where 'All women want babies' but 'All men don't have to be responsible.'

And I'm praying, very hard, that I get the job I interviewed for yesterday so I can get out of here. *sigh*

Labels: abortion, feminism, stupid state