Archive for the 'Hear me roar' Category

I *heart* my governor

Published at December 4, 2008 in Hear me roar, Political theater and Woman-Hating. 7 Comments

Check it out:

NEW YORK, Dec 3 (Reuters) - New York Gov. David Paterson said on Wednesday he was “outraged” that no women were nominated to lead the state’s Court of Appeals, its highest court, forcing him to choose from seven men recommended by a panel.

Paterson said he believes the state constitution obliges him to pick one of the men nominated by a 12-member panel. But he directed state Attorney General Andrew Cuomo to explore options for picking a new chief judge for the appeals court that is considered one of the most influential state courts in the country.

“Because we’re citizens of a state in addition to being public servants, we’re outraged,” Paterson said, adding that the panel’s rejection of more than half the population could discourage women.

“What we really wanted to do is just publicly acknowledge … the disappointing fact that they spanned the globe and couldn’t find a woman in New York state that was qualified to serve as the chief judge,” he said. Still, he called the seven male nominees highly qualified.

Four women served on the nominating panel, which was created in the late 1970s to reform the highly politicized way judges were chosen.

The current chief judge of Court of Appeals, Judith Kaye, resigns at the end of the year. Three other women serve on the seven-member court, and Paterson, joined by the Democratic attorney general, questioned why none of them was nominated.

This gives me hope that he won’t appoint a white guy (such as Bill Clinton, or the AG, Andrew Cuomo) to fill Hillary Clinton’s seat in the Senate. Paterson had once hoped to fill her seat himself if she were elected President, but fate (and Republican political operatives) intervened and Paterson found himself becoming governor after Eliot Spitzer was forced out. He hasn’t said who he’s going to pick, but he has said that nobody has been shy about asking him to appoint them, or people they support. But given that the press loves to talk about Bill Clinton or Andrew Cuomo getting the job, as unlikely as that is (Clinton because, why? and Cuomo because he’s in the middle of taking on AIG for its abuse of bailout funds and its shoddy practices), one starts to wonder if he’d give in to that kind of pressure, or pressure from powerful interests. Especially when there are such good women serving New York in Congress already, like Nydia Velasquez, Carolyn Maloney, Nita Lowey and Louise Slaughter.

But this? This makes me think that he’s got his priorities right.

And seriously — not one of the three women on the Court of Appeals makes it onto the list of seven? You could appoint all of the members of the CoA other than Judith Kaye and still have room for one more on the list. What I’d like to know is, how many of the three men on the court got onto the list?

(Via Echidne.)

Credit where credit is due

Published at November 20, 2008 in The Teevee, Hear me roar and Anxious masculinity. 3 Comments

I watch a lot of Discovery Channel shows, and one of the things that’s always bugged me is the dearth of women on them, especially as they indulge their hardon for Manly Men in Manly-Men occupations.  Mythbusters has broken my heart by getting rid of Scottie and interns Christine and Jess, a welder and two engineers, and keeping Kari.  Who, while she pulls her weight and does a good job blowing things up, seems to have passed the producers’ test because of her looks rather than her skills.  The message seems to be that you can be accepted as the exceptional woman in the boys’ club by being hawt.

But now they have a new show, Time Warp, which seems to be quietly challenging that male dominance.  The basic premise of the show is to do various things and film them with high-speed cameras so that they can be played back very slowly and you can see what’s going on.   They’ve slowed down water droplets, wet dogs shaking off, a pole vaulter, car crashes, etc.  I started watching because some of the slo-mo over the credits looked really cool.

The hosts are two guys, Jeff and Matt.  Matt’s the high-speed camera guy, and Jeff is some kind of unspecified scientist and artist.  The show is based in Boston, and they use a lot of local experts to do various things or explain various things for the cameras.

But here’s the cool part:  a lot of those experts are women.  The pole vaulter, for example, and two archers (who were actually girls, since they were Junior Olympians), a pool player, a woman who was doing something with nails and steel-toed boots (I just caught the end of it last night).  And there are more pictured in the credits, but I haven’t seen all those shows.

I have to say, I’m impressed (I’d be even more impressed if there were more people of color included as well).  Given that the default expert is almost always male unless it’s a particularly “female” area of knowledge, the fact that they use women as experts for things that men do as well is very encouraging to me.  And they don’t make a big deal of it, either, it’s just, “So-and-so is a nationally ranked pool player who has won this and that title,” “Frick and Frack are archers who compete in the Junior Olympics,” “Thus-and-so is a pole vaulter on the University of Massachusetts track team.”

It’s a small thing, but it matters.  It matters because it shows women having skills, being expert at those skills, and being recognized for that expertise.  It shows that women can be accepted as authority figures.

And as for Mythbusters, they’ve gone from having a cast that was half female to doing a Kill Bill movie myth that was specifically about a woman (Uma Thurman being buried alive and punching out of the casket) and then using a male martial arts expert to determine whether “you” could punch through the casket and how much force could be generated.  Boo.

40 Today

Published at September 23, 2008 in Aging gracefully or not, Hear me roar and Woman-Hating. 17 Comments

Which now makes me middle-aged.  And if there is one thing that I have learned this year, it’s that middle-aged feminists are by turns useless, obstinate, dried-up, bitter, obstructive to “real” feminist issues like reproductive rights because their uteri have surely all fallen out, unfuckable, unhip, unimportant, spiteful, racist, deluded, not people to be associated with, not people who are needed to be members of organizations chasing shiny new members, dangerous, dry-pussied, possessed of a martyr complex, not needed, not worth listening to, and, most importantly, In The Way.

Yet, despite the insignificance and marginality of middle-aged feminists, there sure are a lot of people obsessed with their (our?) plans for November.

Dunno about November, but tonight I’ve got plans to take a class so I can learn to make seitan.

We all have to examine our shit. But sometimes, the only thing that’s there is corn.

Published at September 8, 2007 in Hear me roar and Female trouble. 40 Comments

This is something I’ve been thinking about for a while, but the whole “Free Monty” thing over the past few days really brought it home. I found it fascinating how my post about the comparison of the purchase of a puppy from a responsible breeder to slavery being offensive morphed into a far more general discussion of pet ownership, animal status and why Jessica should have to answer for every little thing she does just because she’s a big feminist blogger.

It kind of blew up bigger, and more unexpectedly, than I thought it would. I guess I’ve been away from Feministe for too long, and I’ve forgotten the megaphone aspect of it. Also, people’s reluctance to talk about race.

That megaphone thing, incidentally, is why I’m posting this here and not on Feministe. I really don’t want another damn blogwar, or a rehash of inter-feminist disputes over old issues, or god forbid, more attention from Carol Lloyd. Here, the traffic is low enough that a productive discussion can take place (if anyone comments at all), and nobody that I’m going to name later on has to feel that I’m using the big stick rather than just trying to work out some issues and areas of difference.

So, onward. I’m here to talk about ownership, but not ownership of animals. Ownership of high-traffic bloggers and other figures of some reknown.

One of the themes that went through the Monty posts before I stuck my nose in was that multiple people felt entitled to scold Jessica and demand that she answer their questions, right now, about where she got her puppy. The reason for the demand was, frequently, that Jessica has an obligation as a feminist to justify her choices on feminist grounds, and if she’s going to post something on a feminist website, she damn well better be prepared to have people asking her questions about it, because she put it out there. And when Jessica, who was traveling, didn’t answer those questions right away, the demands got more and more scolding, and more and more, well, demanding.

Some other commenters responded by saying either that where Jessica got her puppy is not a feminist issue, or even if it is, are we not entitled to have fun or joy without subjecting it to feminist analysis?

That’s not to say that there aren’t legitimate questions to be raised, and there were, in fact, legitimate questions raised. But there were also accusations hurled, there was scolding, there was hectoring. And there was an undercurrent of ownership, as well: Jessica’s influential and famous and authoritative and a lot of people read her blog, so she HAS to answer. She’s putting herself out there, so she can’t expect to be able to cut off discussion by saying something’s personal, or that she doesn’t want to discuss it. She. Owes. Us.

And here’s what I have to say: being a high-traffic blogger does not make anyone public property. And as much as people raise “the personal is political” as a reason for high-traffic bloggers to have to justify their personal choices, that’s rather a corruption of Carol Hanish’s original argument, which was that discussions of women’s oppression were not mere navel-gazing or matters for women to solve individually, but discussions about a political problem that required a political solution:

They could sometimes admit that women were oppressed (but only by “the system”) and said that we should have equal pay for equal work, and some other “rights.” But they belittled us no end for trying to bring our so-called “personal problems” into the public arena - especially “all those body issues” like sex, appearance, and abortion. Our demands that men share the housework and childcare were likewise deemed a personal problem between a woman and her individual man. The opposition claimed if women would just “stand up for themselves” and take more responsibility for their own lives, they wouldn’t need to have an independent movement for women’s liberation. What personal initiative wouldn’t solve, they said, “the revolution” would take care of if we would just shut up and do our part. Heaven forbid that we should point out that men benefit from oppressing women.

In other words, “the personal is political” was never meant as a club to beat individual women with for not living up to some kind of feminist ideal in their individual lives, but as a call for putting “women’s issues” onto the same political footing as men’s issues.

High-traffic bloggers are still people, and aren’t exactly making a ton of money from blogging. I’ve never seen a dime from Feministe, for instance, and I know that Jill puts the ad money back into the site. Everyone who posts at Feministing has other jobs, as do the bloggers at Pandagon (that some of them have parlayed their success in attracting an audience into paying work does not change the fact that they’re not making a living from blogging). In fact, I can’t post under my real name because I don’t want to lose the job that pays the bills (if you knew my real name, you could find out easily where I work, because attorneys are listed in a number of directories). So for all the talk of fame and authority and influence, there’s not a whole lot of reward attached to it, and at least in my case, a considerable amount of risk. And in any event, that fame is fame on the internet, which doesn’t really count for much in the wider world.

But there are an awful lot of people who, just because they read you and just because a lot of other people read you, think that you have to act a certain way or be a certain way or write about certain things and no others. And they think they have a right to demand that you act, be or write about what they want you to act, be or write about. Or they think they have a right to attack you personally for how you act, who you are, or what you write if it doesn’t fit in with some kind of Platonic ideal of a feminist blogger.

Every now and again, Atrios will post a reminder that he doesn’t owe his readers anything, that he doesn’t have to pay attention to your pet cause, that he doesn’t have to write what you demand he writes. I used to think that was over the top and unduly harsh, but then the whole “Fun Feminist” blowup happened. Short summary: Jill wrote a “quote of the day” post quoting Twisty about how the reason that so many women hang onto the trappings of femininity is that doing so is not a sign of empowerment, but a survival skill in the patriarchy. A debate ensued in the comments about how much of a duty women have to examine their motivations for dressing up in feminine trappings (which kind of missed Twisty’s original point). In a subsequent post, Jill decided to examine her own interest in feminine trappings while being quite aware that they were somewhat problematic in the larger scope of her feminism.

Things got rather interesting.

Both in comments, and in at least one blog posting, people started attacking Jill personally for her choices, and questioning her commitment to feminism. She’d already examined her shit quite thoroughly and publicly, but somehow, this wasn’t enough. She had to show that she felt really bad about it, or something (those demanding that she feel bad never really got around to saying what they wanted her to do, beyond feel shitty). She no longer deserved to be listened to. She no longer had any place in the movement — even though the people castigating her for her impurity were hardly without stain themselves.

But the creepiest aspect of all was the number of people who asserted ownership over Jill because they’d decided that she was a feminist role model, and felt entitled to demand explanations from her. I think Ron Sullivan summed up what was happening quite well in this comment:

Not to spoil the fun, but for the sake of a few commenters who seem to have missed it: The big stinky pile in the punchbowl isn’t grooming (for values of “grooming” broad enough to include stuff I’d never subject myself to) but the weird 20th-century idea of the “role model” that has somehow grown to include the sub-idea th[at] one can declare someone else a role model and therefore feel entitled to give that person orders.

What the fuck? What the fuckin fuck? As my little sister (not that one) would say.

As Ilyka said on her blog:

I am not a role model: You’d think people would have wrapped their heads around this back when Charles Barkley first said it, but no. Some people still think that if your audience is large enough, you’re a role model regardless of your own wishes in that regard, and you’d better behave in accordance with the bylaws of Rolemodelville, population You.

And as I said:

Molly, Jill’s not your little monkey. She doesn’t have to dance for you just because you put her on a pedestal.

And really, that’s what we’re seeing with Jessica and Monty. Because a lot of people read Jessica, and have decided that she’s a feminist role model, that means that they feel that they can give Jessica orders, and Jessica has to respond. It meant that Molly could declare Jill a role model and declare that because she waxes, she’s not worth listening to because she’s failed as a role model, a job which she never agreed to take on:

At the risk of sounding like Britney Spears, I’m gonna go ahead and throw it out there: I am not a role model.

I am, however, a feminist. And you can try and take away my membership card, but I’m still going to claim it.

I’m a 23-year-old kid trying to get through law school, get a job, and make it through my daily life. I also blog sometimes. Blogging is not my job. I don’t get paid for it, and while it’s important to me, I don’t construct my identity around it.

Aside from the whole ownership aspect, there’s the idea that, just because someone posts something on the internet, it’s up for any and all discussion and the person who posted it has no expectation of being able to claim privacy. I think that’s utter bullshit, it’s dehumanizing, and akin to “she asked for it.” It didn’t fly when the AutoAdmit assholes were swiping Jill’s picture for use in their wankfest, and it doesn’t fly here.

First female Beefeater starts work at Tower of London

Published at September 3, 2007 in work work work and Hear me roar. 3 Comments

This is very cool, and I’d like to meet this woman:

Dressed in a knee-length dark blue coat with red trim and matching top hat, Moira Cameron on Monday became the first female Beefeater, or Yeoman Warder, since the corps of Tower guards was founded in 1485. She told The Associated Press the medieval castle is a wonderful place to work.

“You do the job for prestige, and because you meet people every day,” she said. She relishes contact with visitors after 22 years of desk work as an army accountant. . . .

Cameron, 42, started dreaming of a job in the Tower after six years in the army. But back then, she doubted whether she would last the minimum of 22 years’ service required to apply.

The attraction is the “depth of history” in the place, she said.

While there was never any formal ban on female Beefeaters, Britain’s Ministry of Defense said it was only recently that many women, who can now count maternity leave as part of their service in the forces, were notching up as many years as men.

Chief Yeoman Warder John Keohane said the guards had anticipated that a woman would one day join their ranks, and only one or two had expressed reservations.

“She’s been here for two months and been accepted by the community,” said Keohane, very much the traditional image of a bearded Beefeater.

Cameron, who was chosen in December and has been training at the Tower since July, said only one visitor had expressed strong objections to her appointment. She shot back: “I’d like to thank you for dismissing my 22 years of loyal service to Her Majesty’s services.”

And here’s why I want to meet her:

Cameron found the Beefeaters’ distinctive Victorian costume an improvement over the meager provision of plain army uniforms.

“Now I’ve got these wonderful huge pockets,” she said, revealing the pockets beneath her coattails.

“Because of the style of the coat you can’t see whatever it is in my pockets. I’ve got a bottle of water, my phone, my diary.”

Congratulations, Yeoman Warder!

The girl’s guide to hunting and fishing

Published at August 12, 2007 in Hear me roar, Female trouble, Anxious masculinity, Woman-Hating and Dipshittery. 9 Comments

Well, not that girls in one municipality in Nova Scotia will get a chance to fish during their day camps this summer:

HALIFAX – Nine-year-old Lydia Houck was looking forward to a day of fishing, hiking and golfing when she browsed through a list of summer day camps offered near her Nova Scotia home.

But the only option that fit her interests was just for boys.

In contrast, the only all-girl camp, dubbed Glamorous Girls, offers jewelry-making and a trip to the spa for manicures and pedicures for girls aged five to 12.

Lydia says she’d rather be fishing.

“It was really frustrating that they were being discriminatory and they were saying that boys should look forward to doing this and that girls shouldn’t do this,” Lydia, who will be entering Grade 4 in the fall, said in an interview from her home in Windsor.

“My brother and I go fishing a lot and I enjoy going outside a lot, and this camp seemed to fit that description and it was pretty much the only day camp that did.”

The Municipality of the District of West Hants offers three other day camps that are co-ed – a trip to an amusement park, a day at the waterslides and a pirate-themed excursion into Halifax – but Lydia said none of them sounded as fun as the camp for boys.

The municipality says the idea for next Monday’s spa day came from similar all-girl day camps elsewhere in Nova Scotia, with at least one Halifax-area community staging its own spa event for young girls this summer.

West Hants recreation director Kathy Kehoe denied the camp lineup is discriminatory and said there are no plans to reverse the decision before the event for boys takes place on Tuesday.

Oh, no! It’s not at all discriminatory for a municipality to officially enforce gender conformity. Girls just naturally love spas, and boys just naturally are inclined to fish. It’s just The Way Things Are. Continue reading ‘The girl’s guide to hunting and fishing’

Go. Read.

Published at August 12, 2007 in Hear me roar. 0 Comments

What tigtog said.

Sneaky feminism on the teevee

Published at August 8, 2007 in The Teevee and Hear me roar. 7 Comments

kat.jpg

While I was sad when Kat von D got fired from Miami Ink in a really shitty way, I was happy that I no longer had any reason to watch the show, since Ami James annoyed me so much. And I was even happier when I found out that Kat’s got a new show of her own, LA Ink.

She’s a phenomenally talented artist, and a success in a male-dominated field. So it was very happy-making for me to see that the crew she assembled for her new shop is mostly female, and deliberately so.

Even better, they talk about being women in a male-dominated field, and at least one of the artists, Hannah Aitchison, talked about pin-ups being an ironic acknowledgement of women’s traditional roles that can be enjoyed because we no longer are so tightly bound to them.

That’s not to say it’s perfect — Kat spoke of Corey Miller, a veteran tattoo artist and the only man on the crew, being a good influence if the women are “all PMSing,” for example — but just hearing the word “empowering” coming from a woman on TV, non-ironically, is an amazing thing. Especially on a network that’s pitching a lot of its programming to men by being as macho as possible, and featuring women, if at all, as self-sacrificing mothers or freaks-of-the-week.

More on the pay gap

Published at August 5, 2007 in work work work, Hear me roar, On the horns of a dilemma, Anxious masculinity and Woman-Hating. 3 Comments

It’s not just getting married and having kids that’ll cost you pay if you’re a woman — being perceived as “angry,” especially if you’re an executive, will get you penalized:

[Researcher Victoria Brescoll] conducted three tests in which men and women recruited randomly watched videos of a job interview and were asked to rate the applicant’s status and assign them a salary.

In the first, the scripts were identical except where the candidate described feeling either angry or sad about losing an account due to a colleague’s late arrival at a meeting.

Participants conferred the most status on the man who said he was angry, the second most on the woman who said she was sad, slightly less on the man who said he was sad, and least of all by a sizable margin on the woman who said she was angry.

The average salary assigned to the angry man was almost $38,000 compared to about $23,500 for the angry woman and in the region of $30,000 for the other two candidates.

In a second experiment, the script was similar except that the job applicant also described his or her current occupation as a trainee or a senior executive.

“Participants rated the angry female CEO as significantly less competent than all of the other targets, including even the angry female trainee,” Brescoll wrote. She said they viewed angry females as significantly more “out of control.”

That impacted salaries. Unemotional women were assigned on average $55,384 compared to $32,902 for the angry ones. Male executive candidates were assigned more than trainees, regardless of anger, with an average $73,643.

Continue reading ‘More on the pay gap’

Reducing expectations

Published at August 5, 2007 in Hear me roar and I see fat people. 12 Comments

When Anne Ream, already stressed and overworked, picked up a Third-World virus and dropped a significant amount of weight and suddenly became a size 0, she found herself rather disturbed by the positive reception she got:

There was nothing deliberate or attractive about it. Yet I soon discovered that what should be impossible (When did the absence of a number become a dress size? How did we make nothing into something?) was actually highly desirable, at least to the whisper-thin crowd that floats through Chicago’s upscale fashion boutiques.

“Don’t even look at the 2s, you’re a 0,” a Damen Avenue shop owner trilled triumphantly while a fellow shopper looked on, not with pity for a woman emaciated by a Third World virus, but with envy.

“You’ve lost so much weight!” an acquaintance rejoiced later that week. “It’s fantastic! Who is your nutritionist?”

Something is very, very wrong with the collective perception of women’s bodies when emaciation is viewed as desirable, when an illness-induced weight loss is praised. I know I’ve read accounts of women who delayed getting treatment for illnesses such as diabetes because they were so happy to be losing weight. And my understanding is that many young female diabetics deliberately skip their insulin because they wind up losing weight. Hey, you may go blind and have to get your feet amputated — but you’ll be thin!

Continue reading ‘Reducing expectations’