On a Roundabout: Introducing the Concept of Socially Sanctioned Bodies

Over the last two weeks, an eighteen year old female has called me "negative," "extreme," and "crazy." I wasn't aware that we shared the same transport to and/or from campus at least once a week this semester until she spoke to me.

The second time we encountered each other, we had a conversation. After I saw an opportunity, I explained that my choice not to wear a bra was informed by my feminism and by my individual comfort level.

I explained that, generally, we have a history of sexualizing women's bodies. So I talked about how, when we're girls, we're taught to conform to models of womanhood that are influenced through our associations/contacts with family, friends, media, etc.

For example, I said that by the time girls and boys are around six, we start covering up the girls; yet boys are not met with the same demands. I think it is around then that girls and boys start to recognize that they are different; suddenly, girls are alien (as suggested by anecdotes concerning boys' fears of girls' cooties). More significantly, we give in to the idea that women are sexual objects while simultaneously desexualizing boys.

The only real difference, for me, is that our bodies aren't designed to come in the same way men's bodies are; but just because we can potentially observe quicker, visible displays of attraction in men doesn't mean that we women (and I'm not speaking to those who bypass men) don't get turned on by looking at men's bodies. As girls, however, we implicitly buy into the idea that our breasts - because we're given the subliminal suggestion that they threaten boys (and men) - are dangerous, and thus require shielding to protect the male persuasion of our species.

As such, I believe wearing a bra sexualizes me unnecessarily; if people are uncomfortable with seeing me braless, I think it may be because I represent a concrete challenge to the supposition that women's bodies are sexual objects. In response, however, the eighteen year old, who said she studied biology for two years, tried to convince me that, biologically, women need to wear bras. She said that bras came out of a history when women wore corsets on a regular basis.

In my turn, I pointed out to her that a lot of women fainted from wearing corsets, and that this reinforced notions that women were physically inferior (that is, weaker) than men. I then tried to engage her about how we as girls are naturalized to wear bras; most women, if they ever asked why they had to wear bras as girls, don't question wearing bras as one defining association of womanhood. That led to my comment about the impact of socialization.

The eighteen year old, however, shifted the conversation to focus more generally on differences between men and women. She insisted that "the majority of men are stronger than women." Because of my background and education, however, I wasn't willing to concede her point. Instead, I attempted to start a dialogue to address why we associate men and women in binary terms such as: strong/weak, protector/victim, sexualized/desexualized, etc.

Instead, the eighteen year old got stuck on trying to make me accept her statement that "the majority of men are stronger than women." However, I know a lot of women who work out and men who don't; that we have professional bodybuilders who are men and women; that studies have shown differences between men's and women's physical capabilities to reflect complementarity, with men having greater upper body strength and women greater lower body strength; etc. I also pointed out that a diminutive woman is just as capable as a muscled woman, when trained, in defending herself against a muscular man - which is to say that even our notions of what constitutes physical strength are predicated on the gender roles we've assigned historically and that continue to inform us today.

Yet the eighteen year old continued to sidetrack me by insisting that "the majority of men are stronger than women." Before we dovetailed into miscellany, she accused me of being "negative" and "extreme." Clearly, I threatened her on some level, which is probably why I was amused - because there's no reason to be threatened by me - though I didn't recognize why at the time. By saying I think she was threatened, I mean that talking to me challenged her traditionally-centered self-paradigm because she doesn't yet have the education to answer me.

You see, my expressions of feminism openly challenge accepted social conventions, which are themselves constituted on beliefs concerning our roles as men and women. Yet I don't feel any need to impose my practices on other people. The eighteen year old's dogmatism, however - and I will share that I don't think I've encountered anyone like her before - made me think.

As a result of the conversations I've had with the eighteen year old and other people, I came today to reflect on the concept of socially sanctioned bodies, through which we are inscribed by the social conventions we grow up accepting as true. Yet, I wonder:

How often do you stop to question yourself? What assumptions have you challenged? Do you consider anyone who simply expresses a different view/practice - rather than trying to convince you that you should accept/do it, too - as argumentative? How often do you shut down a conversation that goes beyond a simple yes or no answer to examine the complex social realities in which we live? More importantly: What defines who you are?

Yes :), I intend to continue this conversation. For now, though, I still have more thinking to do.