I have no idea why this question popped into my head the other day. However, it's been troubling me, really compelling me to write about it. It should be clear, too, that I mean nothing against vegans; it's just the concept of veganism and motherhood that intrigues me.
Like, I think I get the position of vegans regarding things like milk. It's the production aspects of commercialized dairy products that's bothersome. Of course, you should know that I'm a self-proclaimed carnivore; I eat ground beef, steak, pork chops, and chicken, and have tried alligator (or crocodile; I can never get this straight) and emu sausage (absolute best). I also enjoy breaded shrimp and fish, and I've experimented with fried squid (didn't like it) and clam (wasn't thrilled by them). These are my informed choices; I've seen documentaries of slaughtered beef, as well as images of dead chickens - and I still eat meat.
The point of this post isn't to debate the issue of whether one should or shouldn't eat meat. It occurs to me, however, that if vegans - and be aware that there are different kinds of vegans, so keep in mind that I'm speaking generally - don't eat or drink anything that comes from an animal, do they apply this limitation to breastfeeding?
We are, regardless of what anyone might say to the contrary, a mammal species; that is, we're animals, too. Breastfeeding is the best milk option for newborns and older children (like I remember hearing about a woman who still breastfed her child through at least six years of age). It's also a byproduct of pregnancy; that is, it's a natural part of our female processes. (Now, this is ignoring the man who gave birth, and is currently pregnant again; I remember catching something about this on television a while back. I just didn't watch the show or whatever.)
What does it mean, therefore, for a female vegan who takes an orthodox view of animals to breastfeed? In my view, doing so represents a complete contradiction. Like, you can't say you're against animal products but also be the source of an animal product. On the other hand, if you refuse to breastfeed, then you're denying a baby important nutrients and antibodies. (This is, of course, ignoring all of the issues associated with HIV/AIDs infected babies, drug babies, etc.)
Anyway, I plan to explore this further in a later post. I'm just putting it there as something to think about: Is veganism compatible with motherhood?
10 December 2008
21 July 2008
Live the world like a dream and break the rules: A Memoir
Years ago, as a wild child of a different era, I danced in a cage shirtless, ran naked around a neighborhood, stood outside as the rain soaked me in ... - all one time experiences. Did you really think I'd change so much in ten years?
By my late twenties, I tried new things: being public in panties and shoes, nude modeling, shaving my head hair ... Then I let go of bras, deodorants, hairbrushes.
I've never hid behind conventions, pretensions - that is, when it came to who I was, I've always taken risks. I know what real love is, but also the differences between crushes, infatuations ...
Even more personally, I've known what it feels for an egg to drop, when I came into my sexuality ... I haven't compromised myself despite the pressures.
Feminism isn't who I am; it's an expression of it. I don't break rules just to break them; I do it to test myself. There's no limit to the individual, but the sanctions imposed on by society ...
Are you so sure of yourself? That depends, I suppose, on how much you are outside of yourself as you are in. Be who you are when no one's around and when they are, and the world is yours; it's called disinhibition. My suggestion: Don't be afraid of it; the more you constrain yourself, the more you lose yourself.
By my late twenties, I tried new things: being public in panties and shoes, nude modeling, shaving my head hair ... Then I let go of bras, deodorants, hairbrushes.
I've never hid behind conventions, pretensions - that is, when it came to who I was, I've always taken risks. I know what real love is, but also the differences between crushes, infatuations ...
Even more personally, I've known what it feels for an egg to drop, when I came into my sexuality ... I haven't compromised myself despite the pressures.
Feminism isn't who I am; it's an expression of it. I don't break rules just to break them; I do it to test myself. There's no limit to the individual, but the sanctions imposed on by society ...
Are you so sure of yourself? That depends, I suppose, on how much you are outside of yourself as you are in. Be who you are when no one's around and when they are, and the world is yours; it's called disinhibition. My suggestion: Don't be afraid of it; the more you constrain yourself, the more you lose yourself.
11 May 2008
Addressing Radicalism: What Feminism Means
So my women's studies professor, on Thurs., used the word "radical" to describe my feminism. (It was the first time she directly addressed me; until then, she offered indirect hints - and understand that this is going on during class times, not in private). Of course, I have no idea how to read her; I just assume that I discomfit her. Regarding a class in Fall 2008 that she's co-teaching, I told her, in a one on one meeting that same day, "The only relevant issue is whether you'd be uncomfortable with me in the class." She responded, "I'm very comfortable with you." I said, "Okay," which is the same as saying: We'll see how true that is. Seriously, you can't offer me a challenge like that and expect me to walk away. It's not like I plan to be any different than I have been; rather, it has to do with seeing how well her actions back up her words. Of course, some people are very good at distancing their professional and personal selves, but since she's already slipped in this class...Personally, I suspect that if I'd said that I wouldn't be offended or angry if she were uncomfortable - followed up with, Are you sure? - she might've said no.)
As I said in class, however, "I don't consider myself to be 'radical.'" But I wasn't really paying that much attention. I mean, I've been thinking about it a while before then, but I don't believe I knew where I was going with that statement until this weekend. So while I had the opportunity to explain what I think is at the core of feminism - which by itself makes feminism a radical concept - I didn't take it. What I shared instead was that I didn't claim feminism until 1999 because I'd associated it with lesbians/bisexuals; that is, I believed that you had to be a lesbian/bisexual to be a feminist. That veil of ignorance was lifted as a result of a professor who not only gave us readings from feminists who weren't lesbians/bisexuals (though we also read a few excerpts from lesbians/bisexuals), but also introduced this radical concept: Feminism, at its core, means acknowledging that women are equal to men (and vice versa).
If you're a feminist, you might be thinking: Yeah, so what? (That is, the concept isn't new and, in today's world, women have advanced in almost every nation, including those we might be tempted to dismiss because we imagine that women are oppressed at every level. This may be truer in some instances, but too often, especially in countries like the U.S., the problem of ethnocentrism gets in the way of reading cultures otherwise; and there's really no excuse for it, given the scholarship that exists addressing the different expressions of feminisms that exist within particular contexts rather than within a globalized framework. Then again, as in my example, to get rid of ignorance, sometimes you need someone else to guide you when you wouldn't have (on your own) or haven't (because of your experiences, etc.) been exposed to information that disrupts your own knowledge base.)
It's not enough, however, for people to say: Oh, of course women are equal to men. I mean, sure, women still get paid less than men in many instances - and what would you say to the idea that if women (men) really are working less than men (women), then maybe, to make it equal, women (men) should be retiring later than men (women) to make up for the differences that raising children (biological or otherwise) may mean on women (men)? - but women can get a lot of the same jobs as men. It also used to be that women couldn't vote, obtain an education (even basic literacy), wear jeans (it used to be a legal offense in the earlier part of the twentieth century, based on what I remember a guy sharing with me), own businesses, receive any divisions of property and assets in cases of divorce or widowhood, etc. We can't, however, say that women never worked until the women's rights movement. Also, we can't ignore that those who most benefited from the major changes in policy that followed were, initially, white middle/upper class women; now, it's mostly middle/upper class women regardless of race. The focus has since shifted to the roles of women in countries whose cultural norms and historical antecedents are different, requiring the sensitivity and appreciation that many (Western) feminists ignore. [And note that I'm mostly addressing a U.S. perspective.]
What makes the concept that women (and men) are equal to men (and women) radical is that once a feminist accepts it, she (or he) will begin asking questions. For me, it may be different because, as I've said, I grew up with a single mom, lived in apartments, etc., which means that in some significant ways I've become very individuated as a person. I was also, for thirty years, ambivalent about being Hispanic; I neither fit into white culture (though I was frequently around it) nor Hispanic culture (which I rarely experienced). The way I feel is aptly expressed in one of Edgar Allen Poe's short poems where he talks about what it is to be different: always a part of something in ways that set you apart from it. My traumatic experiences in Claremont, CA, however, also made me intensely aware of what it means to be an outlier in a pool of variables that are, on the whole, the same (exempting individual differences, what I'm talking about is class status); the strength I gained from that, however, is what's made it possible for me to be unafraid of taking risks as I continue to challenge what it means to be an American/U.S. woman in today's time (from shaving my head* to not wearing bras).
What I would've said in class, had I been able to articulate it, is this: I'm only "radical" to people who've never questioned the image of how a woman is supposed to act and look. My experiments - because you need to know that I'm not only aware of what I'm doing (that my choices are deliberate and directly related to my expressions of feminism), but I'm also evaluating other people's responses to me - are based on that premise of questioning what a woman should and shouldn't look like and act. For example: Does it make me less of a woman to not have hair on my head? Surprisingly, I received several compliments that I was "pretty": a term that was rarely used to describe me before then because of my fat body. It's only recently, however, that I'm wondering how much of that had to do with people's hidden assumptions that I might've had cancer; yet I'm also seeing (African) models with shaved heads (if you watch America's Next Top Model, you'll have seen one episode in which the competitors had to wear bald caps; however, I also saw a hairless model on a CoverGirl® commercial**, which seems to suggest a social acceptance of bald women).
However, I'm also aware of the implications for other people to comment (or not comment) about my choice to be bra-less. Ignoring that I'm comfortable not wearing a bra - in fact, I think wearing a bra is unnatural; not only do the straps cut into shoulders and leave marks under the breasts, but the design of the apparatus, over time, also works to constrict the circulatory system, etc. - let's not forget that I'm not breaking any laws by not wearing a bra. Two larger issues, however, potentially affect people's responses to me - which quite possibly has to do with the problems (and perhaps occasional benefits) of a social world that is overly mindful of political correctness - if what they fear is: that they will lay the ground for a sexual harassment claim (psychologically, this may have to do with acknowledging that I have breasts and that what's attracting their notice is the size or movement of my breasts); that they will be calling attention to my perceived class status (which assumes that I can't afford to buy a bra).
I am, as I said, a direct challenge to people, even if on an unconscious level. The problem, though, is trying to set the ground for a discussion about socialization. It's almost impossible to imagine that no matter how free one's choice seems to be, the choices concerning how we (women and men) look has a social context that's difficult to disentangle depending on your significant mother figure (biological or step- or other mother, aunt, grandmother, friend, etc.), significant father figure (biological or step- or other father, uncle, grandfather, friend, etc.), friends, etc. For example, a woman who grew up seeing her mom with makeup associates that in her choice to wear makeup. A woman whose mother put makeup on her associates that bonding/intimacy in her choice to wear makeup. A woman who grew up with friends who wore makeup associates that shared comaraderie in her choice to wear makeup. And on and on.
For the choice to wear makeup to be really free, the woman who wears makeup has to question the very basis for wearing makeup. She has to evaluate herself to know if she really likes the texture of wearing makeup, if she understands the consequences of where makeup comes from and how it affects skin (in terms of aging), etc. Without any of that, however, the decision to wear makeup has nothing to do with personal choice but the pressures she has grown up with and implicitly (unconsciously) naturalized in terms of the image she has of what a woman should look like. She also learns how to behave based on those models, and even when she rebels, it's often only temporary because she doesn't know how to contextualize her struggle: Am I doing this out of my own choice, as a rejection of values/influence I don't accept, or because that's all I've really known and not doing so may be cause for rejection? Etc.
So, first, one has to not just recognize that women (men) are equal to men (women), but also act on it. It doesn't just mean recontextualizing ourselves (women and men) in terms how we have responded to the pressures placed on us since we were too young to really understand what was happening, but also asking what it means to be a feminist. Working, for instance: It's only feminism to work if you have the option not to and you're doing something you want; then again, the decision to stay at home when one has the option to work is only feminism when it's an informed choice (and not automatic based on the models one has grown up with). But don't worry! I'll come back to all of this in another post!
* I shaved my hair twice in 2006. The only reason I haven't done so since is out of deference to my mom, who asked me not to shave it again. She's come a long way, too, though; as much as she doesn't like the idea of my not wearing a bra, she hasn't asked me to discontinue that practice because she understands that it has to do with me being a feminist.
** Corporations like CoverGirl® and Kellogg's® (in the marketing of its Special K® brand specifically), among others, are using different sized women in their advertisements. However, while they're challenging social norms concerning the ideal body type for women, they're also feeding into the social norms that continue to define how women should look. The problem is exacerbated by the socialization processes involving girls, who are fashioned through the models of the women around them. For this reason, I'm surprised that there hasn't been a lot of debate concerning the sexualized images of girls in commercials; for example, I recently saw a DQ® commercial in which a girl smiles at a boy and gets a free ice cream. The mother's reaction is shock when she hears the daughter say: "It's like shooting fish in a barrel" - yet she doesn't say anything. I'm reminded, too, of the commercial involving a male adolescent (in one of the gum commercials that talks about "dirty teeth") who hits on a friend's mom, but the woman does nothing to counter it. In both instances, the audience is being told something specific about relationships between men and women; women remain objects of desire, while men continue to be desexualized.
09 May 2008
The Issue of Women's Burden: A Preliminary Grounding
It's so funny. In one class this semester, two female students attacked me for contributing a feminist voice to two separate discussions. It's one of those things: If you don't want to hear an opposing view, don't share anything that opens an entryway for it.
So, anyway, I replied to Tiffany and talked about the issue of burden I feared she might be carrying, given what she contributed. First, her jobs consume a significant portion of her time each week (I'd guess 50-60 hours). Secondly, she's carrying at least 12 hours of classes. Finally, even though she has a live-in boyfriend, she's responsible for the housework.
I would've been interested to see how she replied, but the female student who did (Christina) is married and apparently feels unexpressed resentment toward her husband who also doesn't contribute to "housecleaning." Obviously, if someone's married, there's not a lot you can say regarding the issue of women's burden.
By agreeing to that mutual contract voluntarily (as there are many women who don't have the option to choose - and I'd argue that it's extremely unfair to criticize them without considering the historical circumstances that lend the socio-politico-cultural structures through which ideas of marriage and women's place are constrained/defined by (including our American culture)), what we're saying is: This is the person I want to be with regardless of his (her) faults, which I'm well aware of and accept. And while I imagine that there might be some things a wife (or husband) wouldn't know about her (his) husband (wife), there's no way you're going to convince me that she (he) didn't know what he (she) was when she (he) chose to marry him (her).
For example, men (women) who cheat will more often than not do it again. The other giveaway is how men (women) treat women (men), and the expectations they share about what they expect in a marriage. And if you're not talking about this with your man (woman) before you commit (and I know a lot of people don't entertain the concept of marriage integrity, which means fidelity not just to each other but to the institution of marriage which is founded on trust, communication, and longevity), don't complain. Any commitment like marriage requires the seriousness of consideration and devotion; you can't have equality otherwise.
Women, to this day - regardless of how far we've come politically, socially and individually - are still expected to fulfill the traditional roles of mother and wife. What we often leave out of conversations, however, is that these roles come packaged with sets of expectations that include (but aren't limited to) housework (cooking, cleaning, etc.), behavior (including modesty and conservativism), and performance (basically, public vs. private*).
So what we as women (men) deserve is: a man (woman) who genuinely loves us, respect us as women (men), appreciates our contributions to the relationship, supports us in all that we do, etc. There's nothing wrong with a woman (man) who, having the option to not work, chooses to be a stay at home mom (dad) if it's really something she (he) wants (and not because her (his) family - inside and outside the marriage - or friends or other people have made being a stay at home mother (father) an obligation, expectation, responsibility, etc. that a woman (man) assumes as a wife (husband)) because she (he) has thought about it; that is, it's an informed decision based on an awareness of the options available to her (him) as a woman (man) in today's society. [Again, I'm talking about socialization - but I'm saving the discussion for later!]
Why the () with the opposite sex/pronoun? Because there are many men who experience the opposite reality: a woman who suppresses them; seriously, a lot of women have beaten, raped, and otherwise taken advantage of men. (Don't believe me? Do the research.) Let's also not forget that in several states (I think) men can marry other men - as can women - so the same rules apply, but then it's a whole other thing called femininity vs. masculinity, which, by the way, applies to all sexes. As I've said, I'm heterosexual, and that's where I primarily speak from.
So, you see, there was a lot of subtext in my response to Tiffany. Were we sharing a conversation, I might've had the opportunity to go more in-depth on the topic. This didn't happen, however. At the same time, it's interesting that Christina jumped in as she did. Think about it: Was there any reason for her to be scared by what I said? Did I really say anything new?
What I'm really talking about, however, is stereotype threat, which is essentially anything that forces you to step outside of your box; the less secure you are about who you are, the more radical/extreme/dangerous/crazy someone else seems who says/behaves/responds with any knowledge/opinion/experience that falls outside of your boundaries. But don't worry! I'll revisit this concept in another post. I just want you to start thinking about it.
* In other words, people often behave differently at home than in other places. We've already, as a society, seen the consequences of this duality. The most visible of them is domestic abuse. Less frequently discussed is the issue of rape within a marriage; I know there's been a lot of debate on it, but I'm not sure what (if any) policy changes have been implemented as a result. I'm sure there are other examples; I just can't think of anything else offhand.
So, anyway, I replied to Tiffany and talked about the issue of burden I feared she might be carrying, given what she contributed. First, her jobs consume a significant portion of her time each week (I'd guess 50-60 hours). Secondly, she's carrying at least 12 hours of classes. Finally, even though she has a live-in boyfriend, she's responsible for the housework.
I would've been interested to see how she replied, but the female student who did (Christina) is married and apparently feels unexpressed resentment toward her husband who also doesn't contribute to "housecleaning." Obviously, if someone's married, there's not a lot you can say regarding the issue of women's burden.
By agreeing to that mutual contract voluntarily (as there are many women who don't have the option to choose - and I'd argue that it's extremely unfair to criticize them without considering the historical circumstances that lend the socio-politico-cultural structures through which ideas of marriage and women's place are constrained/defined by (including our American culture)), what we're saying is: This is the person I want to be with regardless of his (her) faults, which I'm well aware of and accept. And while I imagine that there might be some things a wife (or husband) wouldn't know about her (his) husband (wife), there's no way you're going to convince me that she (he) didn't know what he (she) was when she (he) chose to marry him (her).
For example, men (women) who cheat will more often than not do it again. The other giveaway is how men (women) treat women (men), and the expectations they share about what they expect in a marriage. And if you're not talking about this with your man (woman) before you commit (and I know a lot of people don't entertain the concept of marriage integrity, which means fidelity not just to each other but to the institution of marriage which is founded on trust, communication, and longevity), don't complain. Any commitment like marriage requires the seriousness of consideration and devotion; you can't have equality otherwise.
Women, to this day - regardless of how far we've come politically, socially and individually - are still expected to fulfill the traditional roles of mother and wife. What we often leave out of conversations, however, is that these roles come packaged with sets of expectations that include (but aren't limited to) housework (cooking, cleaning, etc.), behavior (including modesty and conservativism), and performance (basically, public vs. private*).
So what we as women (men) deserve is: a man (woman) who genuinely loves us, respect us as women (men), appreciates our contributions to the relationship, supports us in all that we do, etc. There's nothing wrong with a woman (man) who, having the option to not work, chooses to be a stay at home mom (dad) if it's really something she (he) wants (and not because her (his) family - inside and outside the marriage - or friends or other people have made being a stay at home mother (father) an obligation, expectation, responsibility, etc. that a woman (man) assumes as a wife (husband)) because she (he) has thought about it; that is, it's an informed decision based on an awareness of the options available to her (him) as a woman (man) in today's society. [Again, I'm talking about socialization - but I'm saving the discussion for later!]
Why the () with the opposite sex/pronoun? Because there are many men who experience the opposite reality: a woman who suppresses them; seriously, a lot of women have beaten, raped, and otherwise taken advantage of men. (Don't believe me? Do the research.) Let's also not forget that in several states (I think) men can marry other men - as can women - so the same rules apply, but then it's a whole other thing called femininity vs. masculinity, which, by the way, applies to all sexes. As I've said, I'm heterosexual, and that's where I primarily speak from.
So, you see, there was a lot of subtext in my response to Tiffany. Were we sharing a conversation, I might've had the opportunity to go more in-depth on the topic. This didn't happen, however. At the same time, it's interesting that Christina jumped in as she did. Think about it: Was there any reason for her to be scared by what I said? Did I really say anything new?
What I'm really talking about, however, is stereotype threat, which is essentially anything that forces you to step outside of your box; the less secure you are about who you are, the more radical/extreme/dangerous/crazy someone else seems who says/behaves/responds with any knowledge/opinion/experience that falls outside of your boundaries. But don't worry! I'll revisit this concept in another post. I just want you to start thinking about it.
* In other words, people often behave differently at home than in other places. We've already, as a society, seen the consequences of this duality. The most visible of them is domestic abuse. Less frequently discussed is the issue of rape within a marriage; I know there's been a lot of debate on it, but I'm not sure what (if any) policy changes have been implemented as a result. I'm sure there are other examples; I just can't think of anything else offhand.
26 April 2008
Radicalizing Prostitution: The First Step in Dismantling Difference
I should warn you, first, that I'm at present still taking a women's studies class this semester. So in one book we read, I discovered that BarbieTM was originally a prostitute doll in Germany. Here we have this national icon that is known the world over primarily as a middle class white woman who's had her look and measurements revised several times, and yet she's exactly the kind of woman most parents today still don't want their sons/daughters involved with!
Why is it so hard then for us to recognize that street prostitutes - male and female - are no different from the rest of us? Haven't I already said that dating is, theoretically, about marriage, but in reality, as my landlord's wife shared, it's really about sex. You don't date, according to her, unless you're in it for the sex. I don't disagree with that; I think, ultimately, sex is the point. I mean, even if you don't have sex until you're married, you're going to eventually have sex. And just because you don't have sex with the person you're currently with doesn't mean you're not going to have sex with the next (or previous) person, etc.
More importantly, I've said that people who date/marry, etc. are paying for sex. (Even when married partners pay half and half on everything, they're still paying for something! - but at least the prostitution would be on terms of equality, which is saying something!) Whether the guy or girl pays for dinner, gifts, etc., the minute you enter into sex, you're giving what you've been paid to do (male or female). So, yes, I think the value you place on your body is what determines when you have sex. (And in both instances - legal and illegal prostitution - STDs are a real risk, along with pregnancies, beatings, etc.!)*
You can choose to ignore that you're putting in what you've paid into or what you've accepted as payment - whether you're dating or married or casual, straight or otherwise, etc. - but how many of you would be with someone who didn't pay for anything? Even if you were willing to experiment with that concept, how long would you be with that someone? Could you go without gifts, dinners out, anniversary/holiday celebrations, etc.?
Yet we, as an American society, claim to be against prostitution. After all, we regulate prostitutes, male and female, by making it a crime to conduct oneself in such a fashion. What about the men or women who have sex with sugar mamas or daddies? Those who do the do for the promise of money? (Uh, don't we still use the phrase gold digger?) How about those - and I've known women who said they do this - who use sex as an exchange for expensive items like TVs and other things? As one told me, Why not do it if you can get something out of it?
I like my new BarbieTM knowledge because it perfectly represents this schism we have in society regarding prostitutes: We say no, but our bodies say yes. We say no to some people, but yes to ourselves. We call it bad/immoral/etc. to others, but natural/obligation for us. Isn't this just another way of people being hypocritical without owning the hypocrisy?
I'll talk more on this another time! For now, I just want you to start thinking about this: Why does prettying up a prositute - ahem, BarbieTM - make her acceptable? More importantly, what does that mean about us that we are in love with an image of ourselves whose history most of us (generally speaking) would be appalled about? (We're talking about a primarily white image; I'm not sure when her new colors were introduced, but, historically, BarbieTM has been a white middle class phenomenon who, as far as I know, has never - since her days as a prostitute - been presented with a lower class or menial type job. Even as a person of color, she's always been in a position of privilege. Anyway, I think that's where we need to start.)
* Like I've said, I've already guaranteed that it'll never happen for me (aside from the obvious reasons that I'm a fat opinionated bitch - and I refer you to Bitch Magazine if you want to know where feminism stands on the word); no guy's going to pay $50,000 toward a trust fund, plus agree to regular STD testing just to have sex with (highly inexperienced not interested in sex) me. Of course, I'm hoping, too, that I'll never be raped again.
Why is it so hard then for us to recognize that street prostitutes - male and female - are no different from the rest of us? Haven't I already said that dating is, theoretically, about marriage, but in reality, as my landlord's wife shared, it's really about sex. You don't date, according to her, unless you're in it for the sex. I don't disagree with that; I think, ultimately, sex is the point. I mean, even if you don't have sex until you're married, you're going to eventually have sex. And just because you don't have sex with the person you're currently with doesn't mean you're not going to have sex with the next (or previous) person, etc.
More importantly, I've said that people who date/marry, etc. are paying for sex. (Even when married partners pay half and half on everything, they're still paying for something! - but at least the prostitution would be on terms of equality, which is saying something!) Whether the guy or girl pays for dinner, gifts, etc., the minute you enter into sex, you're giving what you've been paid to do (male or female). So, yes, I think the value you place on your body is what determines when you have sex. (And in both instances - legal and illegal prostitution - STDs are a real risk, along with pregnancies, beatings, etc.!)*
You can choose to ignore that you're putting in what you've paid into or what you've accepted as payment - whether you're dating or married or casual, straight or otherwise, etc. - but how many of you would be with someone who didn't pay for anything? Even if you were willing to experiment with that concept, how long would you be with that someone? Could you go without gifts, dinners out, anniversary/holiday celebrations, etc.?
Yet we, as an American society, claim to be against prostitution. After all, we regulate prostitutes, male and female, by making it a crime to conduct oneself in such a fashion. What about the men or women who have sex with sugar mamas or daddies? Those who do the do for the promise of money? (Uh, don't we still use the phrase gold digger?) How about those - and I've known women who said they do this - who use sex as an exchange for expensive items like TVs and other things? As one told me, Why not do it if you can get something out of it?
I like my new BarbieTM knowledge because it perfectly represents this schism we have in society regarding prostitutes: We say no, but our bodies say yes. We say no to some people, but yes to ourselves. We call it bad/immoral/etc. to others, but natural/obligation for us. Isn't this just another way of people being hypocritical without owning the hypocrisy?
I'll talk more on this another time! For now, I just want you to start thinking about this: Why does prettying up a prositute - ahem, BarbieTM - make her acceptable? More importantly, what does that mean about us that we are in love with an image of ourselves whose history most of us (generally speaking) would be appalled about? (We're talking about a primarily white image; I'm not sure when her new colors were introduced, but, historically, BarbieTM has been a white middle class phenomenon who, as far as I know, has never - since her days as a prostitute - been presented with a lower class or menial type job. Even as a person of color, she's always been in a position of privilege. Anyway, I think that's where we need to start.)
* Like I've said, I've already guaranteed that it'll never happen for me (aside from the obvious reasons that I'm a fat opinionated bitch - and I refer you to Bitch Magazine if you want to know where feminism stands on the word); no guy's going to pay $50,000 toward a trust fund, plus agree to regular STD testing just to have sex with (highly inexperienced not interested in sex) me. Of course, I'm hoping, too, that I'll never be raped again.
18 April 2008
Reading My Choices: Reflection on a Conversation (Part I)
Don't we sometimes talk about ourselves as social agents? I choose to express myself as I do (braless) knowing that many people will receive it primarily in one of two ways: as a form of resistance (referring back to the concept, "the personal is political"), but this (I think) is harder to read without some knowledge/education/experience (but this is where I stand); as a reflection of ignorance, class position, etc.
One reason for this is that we're constantly told (through media, in person, etc.) that how we look tells people who we are; less frequently discussed is the issue that the image is always constructed - that is, it's generally a topic limited to academic circles. We do, however, talk a lot about masks and how we present ourselves differently depending on who we're with; but I don't follow this rule either. What this comes down to is: You can't really ever know someone without getting to know them - but this is a different discussion for another time!
So, anyway, this girl and I are talking on the bus one day; she's also a student at FCC. I'm explaining to her how my choice not to wear a bra is associated with my expression of feminism which I connect with the history of our (women's) sexualization. Before we develop breasts, I said, our upper bodies look like those of boys; yet by around the ages of five or six, we're told to start covering up our bodies. As a result, we're unconsciously being given a message: We have something to hide, and that what we're hiding is wrong (but there are lot of girls who aren't going to make the leap to their sexualities); a lot of girls question this, and parents/guardians/whatever often say: It's because girls are different from boys. Then later we're told to add another layer even when we're not yet ready for them; that's the joke I see played a lot on TV regarding training bras. So I'm essentially talking about the socialization of girls at this point, but the girl I'm talking to isn't ready to follow me there.
Instead, she tells me her mom had a mastectomy because she was physically uncomfortable with the size of her boobs. So she suggests that I should consider one. First, as I shared with her, I'm comfortable not wearing a bra; but, of course, I have big boobs and they sag - and this is what's bothering her; she can't imagine that someone like me wouldn't be bothered by them. I told her I was aware of people who made similar complaints about their breasts, and that the reason I don't think I have an issue with mine is because of my posture; good posture helps align your body the way it's meant to be. (Let's ignore the whole issue of trauma involved with our evolving to upright forms, assuming you accept the concept of evolution.)
She tries then to convince me that women need bras. Her first example - the corsets women had to wear especially during the Victorian era - was careless; I told her that a lot of women fainted as a result of how tight they were, and that this reified the view of women as helpless and weak compared to men, etc. She tries to tell me that, biologically, we need them for support, and that they otherwise cause back pain because of all the weight. I ask her about women who have firm breasts and don't need to wear bras. Would she have a problem if they chose not to wear bras? Also, I told her that women have different shaped breasts, and some actually have proportions that make them more like men's breasts, and that some men have breasts - what she insists on calling pecs - which look like they belong on women; but it's the same thing.
This is one of the problems: We're talking about women but also introducing men into the conversation. So I open another thread by raising the issue that men's bodies have been desexualized. I share that I like looking at men, and that when I see a good looking man with a nice chest, yes, I get turned on by that; I'm not going too much into this right now, but I would argue against anyone who claims that women don't respond the same way by pointing out that just because we aren't able to visibly display our attractions in the same physical ways that men do (and I'm not talking about orgasms, etc., but the immediate response to sexual stimulation that anyone can observe even when the person's covered) doesn't mean we don't get aroused by looking at men (with clothes on, partial or nude; I think it's very possible that if we had scientific instruments which could detect the buildup of fluids associated with arousal, we'd find that women and men respond the same). I mean, we're always talking about the sexualization of women - in music videos (uh, I see a lot of men in sexualized roles, but where's the literature criticizing this?; it's almost always been, from what I've read/heard/whatever, about women), pornography (uh, they get naked, too!) - because we've connected women with sex in ways that we've never really done with men, even if this is changing.
As for me, I've been around different states - Texas (home state), Montana (summer 1996), California (Aug. 2003-Dec. 2004), Connecticut (Aug. 2005-May 2006), Michigan (May 2006-Dec. 2006), and now Maryland (since Dec. 2006) - not to mention other places I've visited around the U.S. as a result of conferences and school activities; I haven't had many opportunities to travel internationally, but I've been to Monterrey and Puebla, Mexico; Manchester, England; and Ontario, Canada. So I've seen a lot of men in person but also through the media, and I know real men exist who could use bras (not just fat men, but also overly muscled men); in fact, Seinfeld played a joke on this by introducing "the man bra" in one episode. Yet men aren't required to cover up their pecs/breasts/whatever.
Women, however, are burdened with that. Even when it's the hottest day of summer, we have to put on that extra layer. I don't think it's fair, and I refuse to be sexualized. Even ignoring that I'm fat - and I tell people I'm fat and ugly; even if I had no excess weight, I'd be fat and ugly because our society has dictated an image of what a woman should look like that, because of how my bones are structured, even if I were at my least weight possible, I'd still be fat and ugly next to that image; so I don't bother - women are still seen in terms of their bodies, even when we have women in power positions who show that they're more than their bodies.
Before the conversation ends, she's telling me it's "not normal" for women not to wear bras. So I question her. I tell her that I'm aware of African women who don't wear bras and are able to function within those societies. Why, I ask her, do you think women have to wear bras? I'm comfortable not wearing one, and I'm comfortable enough with myself that I have no problems openly challenging the position of women as sexual objects. If it were not for images on National Geographic* - and I didn't see the connection until last night - would I have had that knowledge? Would I have been able to connect it, even unconsciously, with why I choose to continue doing what I started doing all the time since Fall 2007? (I'm braless wherever I go: stores, banks, etc. I mean, it took me about four years of experimenting before I went full at it.) The fact is, images don't just sexualize women. I understand the point, however; we're talking about showing only the women. But if we were to see them together (that is, the men and women), wouldn't we still be complaining and focusing in on the sexualization of women?*
That's something I'm only recently thinking about: this idea that it doesn't matter what the object of criticism is, even when there are men involved, we make an issue out of the women within a patriarchal context. That's one of the fallacies, I think: We have so much of an entrenched view of women as sexual objects that when we are forced to confront both sexes in the same industries (uh, there are gigolos, or male prostitutes), we too often narrow in on women and stigmatize men as the culprit behind the successes of those products. Why aren't we ever looking at men? So, yes, I'm coming back to this idea later!
* For my PSY 209 class, we were assigned textbook readings; of those we addressed last night, the discussion concerning the selection from Catherine A. Lutz and Jane L. Collins' book, presented in the section as "Excerpts from Reading National Geographic" (from Grewal and Kaplan's An Introduction to Women's Studies, 2006), sparked today's post. I'm really starting to think more now about the problematic nature concerning the sexualization of women that also stigmatizes men as the primary culprits behind it.
One reason for this is that we're constantly told (through media, in person, etc.) that how we look tells people who we are; less frequently discussed is the issue that the image is always constructed - that is, it's generally a topic limited to academic circles. We do, however, talk a lot about masks and how we present ourselves differently depending on who we're with; but I don't follow this rule either. What this comes down to is: You can't really ever know someone without getting to know them - but this is a different discussion for another time!
So, anyway, this girl and I are talking on the bus one day; she's also a student at FCC. I'm explaining to her how my choice not to wear a bra is associated with my expression of feminism which I connect with the history of our (women's) sexualization. Before we develop breasts, I said, our upper bodies look like those of boys; yet by around the ages of five or six, we're told to start covering up our bodies. As a result, we're unconsciously being given a message: We have something to hide, and that what we're hiding is wrong (but there are lot of girls who aren't going to make the leap to their sexualities); a lot of girls question this, and parents/guardians/whatever often say: It's because girls are different from boys. Then later we're told to add another layer even when we're not yet ready for them; that's the joke I see played a lot on TV regarding training bras. So I'm essentially talking about the socialization of girls at this point, but the girl I'm talking to isn't ready to follow me there.
Instead, she tells me her mom had a mastectomy because she was physically uncomfortable with the size of her boobs. So she suggests that I should consider one. First, as I shared with her, I'm comfortable not wearing a bra; but, of course, I have big boobs and they sag - and this is what's bothering her; she can't imagine that someone like me wouldn't be bothered by them. I told her I was aware of people who made similar complaints about their breasts, and that the reason I don't think I have an issue with mine is because of my posture; good posture helps align your body the way it's meant to be. (Let's ignore the whole issue of trauma involved with our evolving to upright forms, assuming you accept the concept of evolution.)
She tries then to convince me that women need bras. Her first example - the corsets women had to wear especially during the Victorian era - was careless; I told her that a lot of women fainted as a result of how tight they were, and that this reified the view of women as helpless and weak compared to men, etc. She tries to tell me that, biologically, we need them for support, and that they otherwise cause back pain because of all the weight. I ask her about women who have firm breasts and don't need to wear bras. Would she have a problem if they chose not to wear bras? Also, I told her that women have different shaped breasts, and some actually have proportions that make them more like men's breasts, and that some men have breasts - what she insists on calling pecs - which look like they belong on women; but it's the same thing.
This is one of the problems: We're talking about women but also introducing men into the conversation. So I open another thread by raising the issue that men's bodies have been desexualized. I share that I like looking at men, and that when I see a good looking man with a nice chest, yes, I get turned on by that; I'm not going too much into this right now, but I would argue against anyone who claims that women don't respond the same way by pointing out that just because we aren't able to visibly display our attractions in the same physical ways that men do (and I'm not talking about orgasms, etc., but the immediate response to sexual stimulation that anyone can observe even when the person's covered) doesn't mean we don't get aroused by looking at men (with clothes on, partial or nude; I think it's very possible that if we had scientific instruments which could detect the buildup of fluids associated with arousal, we'd find that women and men respond the same). I mean, we're always talking about the sexualization of women - in music videos (uh, I see a lot of men in sexualized roles, but where's the literature criticizing this?; it's almost always been, from what I've read/heard/whatever, about women), pornography (uh, they get naked, too!) - because we've connected women with sex in ways that we've never really done with men, even if this is changing.
As for me, I've been around different states - Texas (home state), Montana (summer 1996), California (Aug. 2003-Dec. 2004), Connecticut (Aug. 2005-May 2006), Michigan (May 2006-Dec. 2006), and now Maryland (since Dec. 2006) - not to mention other places I've visited around the U.S. as a result of conferences and school activities; I haven't had many opportunities to travel internationally, but I've been to Monterrey and Puebla, Mexico; Manchester, England; and Ontario, Canada. So I've seen a lot of men in person but also through the media, and I know real men exist who could use bras (not just fat men, but also overly muscled men); in fact, Seinfeld played a joke on this by introducing "the man bra" in one episode. Yet men aren't required to cover up their pecs/breasts/whatever.
Women, however, are burdened with that. Even when it's the hottest day of summer, we have to put on that extra layer. I don't think it's fair, and I refuse to be sexualized. Even ignoring that I'm fat - and I tell people I'm fat and ugly; even if I had no excess weight, I'd be fat and ugly because our society has dictated an image of what a woman should look like that, because of how my bones are structured, even if I were at my least weight possible, I'd still be fat and ugly next to that image; so I don't bother - women are still seen in terms of their bodies, even when we have women in power positions who show that they're more than their bodies.
Before the conversation ends, she's telling me it's "not normal" for women not to wear bras. So I question her. I tell her that I'm aware of African women who don't wear bras and are able to function within those societies. Why, I ask her, do you think women have to wear bras? I'm comfortable not wearing one, and I'm comfortable enough with myself that I have no problems openly challenging the position of women as sexual objects. If it were not for images on National Geographic* - and I didn't see the connection until last night - would I have had that knowledge? Would I have been able to connect it, even unconsciously, with why I choose to continue doing what I started doing all the time since Fall 2007? (I'm braless wherever I go: stores, banks, etc. I mean, it took me about four years of experimenting before I went full at it.) The fact is, images don't just sexualize women. I understand the point, however; we're talking about showing only the women. But if we were to see them together (that is, the men and women), wouldn't we still be complaining and focusing in on the sexualization of women?*
That's something I'm only recently thinking about: this idea that it doesn't matter what the object of criticism is, even when there are men involved, we make an issue out of the women within a patriarchal context. That's one of the fallacies, I think: We have so much of an entrenched view of women as sexual objects that when we are forced to confront both sexes in the same industries (uh, there are gigolos, or male prostitutes), we too often narrow in on women and stigmatize men as the culprit behind the successes of those products. Why aren't we ever looking at men? So, yes, I'm coming back to this idea later!
* For my PSY 209 class, we were assigned textbook readings; of those we addressed last night, the discussion concerning the selection from Catherine A. Lutz and Jane L. Collins' book, presented in the section as "Excerpts from Reading National Geographic" (from Grewal and Kaplan's An Introduction to Women's Studies, 2006), sparked today's post. I'm really starting to think more now about the problematic nature concerning the sexualization of women that also stigmatizes men as the primary culprits behind it.
02 April 2008
"The personal is political" - Part I
I believe that women have been sexualized as a result of ideological stigmas which became embedded across the centuries through means of laws and social customs. Despite advances resulting from various feminist movements at different times, we continue to be defined by our bodies. In fact, the last time I spoke with someone - a female college student - about my politics, I was accused of being "negative," "extreme," "crazy," and "an eyesore."
However, no one has yet to directly challenge my choice not to wear bras. (In the previous instance, I initiated the discussion, which means it was an invitation.) I've walked around campuses, in supermarkets, banks, and other places without anyone saying anything. Ironically, when I decided to check my e-mail before going off to my Beginning Canoe class last semester, the library director at Hood College told me that wearing a swimsuit was unacceptable and would be grounds for involving Campus Safety.
I consider it interesting, therefore, that people have been silent about my bra-free decision. This doesn't mean that others agree with the action I chose, but that we have come far enough in our society that doing so isn't cause for outrage.
I choose not to wear a bra because I recognize that we (men and women) are sexual bodies; and that if men aren't required to add layers to their breasts - and regardless if we call them pecs, men have nipples which excite them as much as ours excites us - I don't see why I should have to. By acting on my choice, I'm essentially saying: I refuse the assumption that only women are sexual objects.
By the way, I'm completely comfortable bra-less. As I tried to explain to the girl, I think a lot of that has to do with having good posture. More on this issue later!
However, no one has yet to directly challenge my choice not to wear bras. (In the previous instance, I initiated the discussion, which means it was an invitation.) I've walked around campuses, in supermarkets, banks, and other places without anyone saying anything. Ironically, when I decided to check my e-mail before going off to my Beginning Canoe class last semester, the library director at Hood College told me that wearing a swimsuit was unacceptable and would be grounds for involving Campus Safety.
I consider it interesting, therefore, that people have been silent about my bra-free decision. This doesn't mean that others agree with the action I chose, but that we have come far enough in our society that doing so isn't cause for outrage.
I choose not to wear a bra because I recognize that we (men and women) are sexual bodies; and that if men aren't required to add layers to their breasts - and regardless if we call them pecs, men have nipples which excite them as much as ours excites us - I don't see why I should have to. By acting on my choice, I'm essentially saying: I refuse the assumption that only women are sexual objects.
By the way, I'm completely comfortable bra-less. As I tried to explain to the girl, I think a lot of that has to do with having good posture. More on this issue later!
15 March 2008
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.
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.
