BurningbirdRecovered from the Wayback Machine.
I was cleaning out my old email when I found an outgoing email with the following:
There is no warmth among the wires. It’s only plastic, and metal, and electricity.
That was long ago, but this is now.
Recovered from the Wayback Machine.
Dorothea writes today:
Today I found out (never mind how; it was not through my direct agency) that a decidedly ungentle set of words, questioning not my courage but my ability to feel and act as a human being should, has been levelled at me elsewhere.
Honestly, I wish I hadn’t found out. I wish I still didn’t know. Tilt
Unfortunately, I was the agent of Dorothea’s discovery, because I was also a recipient of the words she speaks of. And I understand—all too well—that tilt she feels.
Dorothea writes of courage, and how she has no courage. I think she’s the bravest person I know, because she speaks out even though she dislikes confrontation. She speaks out because it’s right to do so, not easy to do so.
My reaction to the words differed because I reacted with emotion, my own personal Boggart (and if you haven’t read Harry Potter, find a child and ask them to tell you what a Boggart is). I react with fire and passion and hurt. I am nothing if not a bundle of emotions, to my detriment because I do know that these same emotions can lose me respect.
(Yet, aren’t these same emotions, passions, whatever you want to call them the impetus that begins conversations on difficult topics, time and again?)
Dorothea, for all of her ‘lack of courage’, and me for all of my ‘over emotionalism’ are at least willing to step outside of our comfort zones and speak of difficult things, to take a stand, and to face within ourselves our own “Boggarts”.
I wonder how many of those who read us, who speak of courage and emotion and feelings and love, can say the same?
Recovered from the Wayback Machine.
New voices are entering the discussion on feminism and girlism. Brave souls.
AKMA has joined the conversation, but carefully, aware that the discussion related to this topic has achieved a level of emotion and engagement that transcends previous topics:
One reason I haven’t joined in earlier lies in my fondness for everyone in the room, and my sense that I can see the admirable heart in what each one says, whether or not they’re on the same page as me. And it’s awfully hard to enter this sort of discussion without treading on some toes that already ache from others’ stomping.
As one who has participated in the tromping as well as being a trompee, I can understand AKMA’s caution. There is something about this topic that seems to touch the core of us, generating strong agreement or disagreement, but not indifference. Perhaps its because men and women remain men and women, with all the age-old complications, confusion, and concerns, regardless of socio-politico events.
I almost wrote David Weinberger to ask him, “Well, David. Here’s your pieces. Now where’s the glue?”
But AKMA does discuss the issue, albeit being careful to separate the message from the messenger (to quote one of the comments to my posts) and talks about the effects of girlism:
Effect One: it severs women who can and will use this tactic from those who don’t have access to that tactic. I get very edgy about strategies of resistance that engender division; we don’t have to look far, though, to see that girlism doesn’t only advance the cause of “girlists,” but distinguishes “girlist”-women from “non-girlist-women” (and that can pretty quickly be elided to “fun, cool” women versus “uptight, bitchy” women). Effect Two: girlism tends to reinforce men’s latent notions that women are there principally to titillate and delight them. Lots of fascinating women (whom no one has grounds to assume sexually inhibited, though I can’t claim empirical research on this point) don’t want to go anywhere near re-affirming the Playboy Bunny image that haunts men’s expectations of what women should be like.
As somewhat of a directly unrelated counter-point, the second person to join the debate today (that I know of ), Elizabeth Lawley, writes:
I spoke up in defense of Halley’s original post, and I stand by that. I consider myself a feminist. Unlike Halley, I don’t think feminism is dead. And I definitely don’t agree with her assessment that it only encompassed lesbian sexuality to begin with. But one of the reasons that I–and, I think, many other women–have become frustrated with feminism is its renouncement of…well…femininity.
In Shelley’s blog, she reposts and comments on comments by Suzanne, in which she expresses concerns with “girlism” because it’s limited to those with the physical attributes to use it. But all strengths, all power, is unbalanced. Some women aren’t beautiful, true. (Though far more are than realize it.) But some women aren’t smart. Some women aren’t hard-working. Some women aren’t charismatic. Life’s just not fair.
I respect Liz’s reaffirmation of feminism, and appreciate it. However, my opinion diverges from her’s when the discussion returns to ‘girlism’ (if I may continue to use the original term). To me, the argument against Elizabeth’s assertions is actually contained within her argument. How can we equate hard-working, a state a woman can control completely, with beauty, a state that is not only outside a woman’s control, but is also ephemeral and changeable based on society, culture, and era? In some ways this forms the basis of the feminism/girlism debate — control from within (feminism) versus control from without (girlism). I’ll bank on control from within, myself. It’ll last me when gravity finally wins all.
(As a side note, it is a puzzle to me where the confusion arose about feminists not being feminine; unless you equate femininity as being derived only from a male consumers point of view.)
I can respect that Elizabeth has worked hard to develop a body that she’s proud of. And she should be proud, it’s not easy maintaining the discipline to keep yourself in shape. I knew a quadraplegic at Boeing that worked equally hard with his body to be able to lift a finger to control a computer console we were designing for him. I can respect hard work.
But when Elizabeth writes:
The men who tended to view me as an object were flummoxed. And I was okay with that. More than okay–delighted. I loved watching people who had no problem ignoring me (or worse) when I felt like a shlump caught so suddenly off guard.
I am unsure how to respond, except that I know I would not experience delight if someone who previously treated me with disregard and disdain suddenly started noticing me because I had a body that they now found acceptable.
One last thing before closing today’s post, and this message is specifically aimed at Doc — but in the friendliest non aggressive, non-attacking, non-categorizing way I possibly can:
Doc, personally, I don’t care what you call either feminism or sexism, as long as we’re all agreed that something is about discrimination based on gender, and something else is based on the continuing effort to ensure equality, safety, and control of one’s body for all women. However, you might want to consider leaving the labels, because it’s a lot easier writing them out rather than the definitions each time we discuss the topics*.
Regardless, if the label seems too constricting, then we’ll change them and see if we can get the world to agree. Or we’ll continue to use the definitions, instead. As long as you agree that the important thing is what the labels represent, not the labels, themselves.
And one other note: I have said this before, more than once, but I will say it again. I respect Halley’s opinion and her courage in expressing this opinion. Because I don’t agree with the words, doesn’t mean I don’t value the speaker. If I am vehement on this topic, it’s because it impacts on my core beliefs about being a woman, not because I am ‘angry’ at Halley, or at anyone who agrees with her opinion. Halley should be proud that her words started what has become an incredible conversation.
Just a quick note, for what it’s worth.
Now, it’s been a long, long, long day, and this tired, unsexy, unfun, roughshod riding, unloving, toe-trodden, anti-male, non-girlist feminst (or whatever) is going to bed.
* This is my last posting on this topic for this go-around. I don’t think I would have anything new to contribute to the dialog that I haven’t already said — in excessive detail.
Recovered from the Wayback Machine.
Jonathon wrote today:
Surely much of the joy and many of the rewards of any relationship come from having our beliefs challenged, from having the opportunity to experience the world through someone else’s eyes.
We talk of “weblogging avatars” as if we can each be so easily classified. We see each other through words on a screen and we think we know all there is to know about our neighbors, only to find out in a shattering instant that those who agree strongly with us on some topics do not agree, just as strongly, on others. As weblogging matures, we’re going to need to come to the truth that each of us is not a looking glass reflection of those who read what we write.
In response to Mike’s questions on gender stereotypes, Dorothea answers with far more courage than I. She writes:
But Mike, as best I can tell, would rather I kill the category, summarily execute this part of my written self. He has an image of women (not just his wife, but all women, including me and Shelley and Tish and Jeneane and Halley) that he wants desperately to cling to unmodified, to believe in, to advocate, to proclaim, indeed to deify. I think I threaten that image. No, I know I do. Who am I to be a goddess? Yet if I am not a goddess in Mike’s eyes, what can I be to him?
I don’t know. I wanted to be a person, but in all honesty, his cherished image of people who happen to be female won’t leave me free to be the kind of person I know myself to be. I want to be that person, not any kind of goddess, not any kind of ideal. I do feel diminished in comparison with Mike’s ideal. How could I not? But I must still refuse to try to inhabit it. I must still refuse to endorse it. I must still challenge it.
Viewing each other flatly, through the reflection of companionship engineered by the newness of this medium will only last so long. “We are writing ourselves into existence”, only lasts until it reaches the barrier of the real world, and we realize that each of us is a three-dimensional person who existed before weblogging. Can we accept that, and accept each other’s differences? More than that, can we look beyond our expectations, and shatter the looking glass?
Dorothea also writes:
No, take that back—I like these people now. I do. I am upset and bewildered that this should be such a barrier, that this self I am constructing is so difficult for other selves to accept. I don’t know how best to handle my own thoughts and feelings, much less those of others concerned.
I have no answers, any more than I ever have. I don’t feel good about any of this; I feel tired and empty, unheard and valueless. I used to think that I could best contribute (whatever that means; I have tried three times to define what I mean by it and failed) by telling my stories, airing my hurts and fears and angers and suggestions, making this self I am writing as whole a one as I can.
…making this self I am writing as whole a one as I can.
We have gone beyond the stage of crying out “All we need is love, love, love” and moving in for a virtual group hug. And this transcends silly issues of delinking and blogging popularity.
Can we accept each other’s differences. No, let me phrase that differently: can we celebrate each other’s differences, regardless of the strengths of our own beliefs? I don’t know. I really don’t know.
Lastly, Dorothea also writes:
If I continue blogging, that is. As I said, I am a bare few inches from the end of my rope.
Dorothea, all I can say is that if you left, I would miss your self, badly. Your whole self.
Commenting and cross-commenting associated with Mike Golby’s posting. Lots of words to get to core of the matter: Mike wants to discuss the issues without someone experiencing personal affront. He says that I am being defensive. I rant and rail and point and link until I slow down (hitting a wall does tend to slow you down) and realize…damn…
Yup. I have become a hedgehog of defensiveness, rolled up into a cute but painful little ball, spikes out, bitty nose buried, gleaming little eyes looking up as if to say, “You can kiss my spiny butt.” Just be glad I’m not licking your shoes and foaming at the mouth.
It is very difficult to discuss issues such as gender bias, stereotypes, and sexism without internalizing the discussion. I have long admired those who can discuss even the most vitriolic topic in calm, measured words. I can’t. I have a tough time just convincing people I’m being passionate, not angry.
The difficulty inherent with some of these discussions is that the comment boxes aren’t big enough to handle all the baggage we bring with us. There’s barely enough room to move. Worse, we can’t look each other in the eyes to know when to press forward, and when to pull back. Quickly.
Adding to the challenge is that the conversation can continue off-weblog, flurry of emails and exchanges becoming increasingly angry passionate.
You, innocent reader, see the tip of the discussion and can’t understand why something so small can be so deadly. You wonder in trustingly, open your mouth, issue a tiny squeek, and WHOMP!
You have just been overreacted.
Poor you. You get up and check yourself for injury, wipe the blood from your eyes, and, shivering from shock, crawl away, trying to move carefully so that your movements don’t attract further attention. A whimper issues from your mouth as you vanish from the weblog page. Not a pretty sight.
Sometimes when we feel very strongly about something, it’s challenging not to get angry passionate. Passion is great to start the fire (“we didn’t start the fire..”) but it’s hell on the participants over time.
Mike has questions to answer and this topic of gender stereotypes and bias, sexism and sex discrimination is worth discussing. Tish wrote an excellent, detailed response to Mike’s question.
(Is it just me and my hedgehog nature, or are Mike’s questions a tad bit loaded?)