Categories
Diversity

Girlism?

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

Halley Suitt wrote the following at Blog Sisters in response to the question, “Whatever happened to feminism”:

“There is no more feminism,” I explain. Game Over. But it took me a day or two to name the new game. It’s “girlism” — women want to be sexy girls and use all the tricks girls use. Crying, flirting, begging, winking, stomping their feet when they don’t get their way, general trotting around showing off their long legs and whatever else they decide to show off thereby distracting and derailing men.

 

It’s about power — the girl power we’ve always had, but forgot about, combined with all the stuff we’ve learned in the workplace. Needless to say, if you’re a man and you call us on it, we deny it. The new double double standard. We learned how to stop playing fair

In my computer technology field, which is one of the most heavily male-dominated professions, I have never once seen a woman use flirting, begging, winking, stomping their feet, showing off their long legs, dressing sexy, or anything of this nature to get their way. If anything, women are less likely to display emotion on the job in my field than the men. Why? Because of statements such as these, saying that there is a double double standard and that women are using ‘girly’ ways to succeed.

Once I was so frustrated at being continually undercut by a male co-worker that I shed tears. Another of my co-workers, a woman, said that I needed to stop crying, because I was falling into the ‘women cry, men swear’ stereotype. I have never cried at work since. However, I have learned to pound the desk in anger, and swear a lot. Are these better? Well, at least they aren’t stereotypical.

Girlism. A label to discount women’s human experience and expression.

When women cry, they’re resorting to ‘girlism’, but when men cry, they’re being sensitive. Men can be hurt and receive understanding and compassion, but when women are hurt, they’re being overly emotional. Is that it works now? Women dress for sex, but men dress for success. And when women get angry, they’re being ‘girly’, but when men get angry, they’re being assertive.

Categories
Diversity Technology Weblogging

Links at twenty paces

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

Christine staged a Blog Debate, during which Ciscley commented about guys being reluctant to move to Moveable Type because it’s popular. She wrote:

I think (I *know* in my personal blogging circle and I’m generalizing from there) that most of the people that are uncomfortable with the popularity of MT are guys. It’s like it’s a dirty blog word to every guy I know. They use phpWeblog (though I still have to design their layouts for them cause the interface only goes so far). They use geeklog. They’ve thought about pMachine. They’re willing to try anything and everything but MT.

Is it because so many women use and love MT? Is it because MT, if you don’t actually use it and know what a huge part of it Ben does, appears to be the creation of a woman? Is it taking something away from the all male tech industry to consider that a product inspired by or significantly designed by a woman is the best option out there?

Jonathon picked up on it, writing:

There are so many things to like about Movable Type—reliability, elegant interface, customizability, MySQL support, vibrant user community—but what could be more intriguing than Ciscley’s hypothesis of gendered MT use? Has Mena’s contribution influenced the software to the extent that it attracts a disproportionately high proportion of female users?

Christine picked up on both Ciscley’s and Jonathon’s comments, so it will be interesting to see if there is any form of debate on this.

A gender bias with Movable Type just isn’t something I’ve seen. I would imagine that there is a strong gender bias with the other weblogging tools that Ciscley has mentioned, but not with MT.

Any initial reluctance to adopt MT is based on the installation, which can be a hassle for non-techies. However, this seems to effect both men and women equally, and is really dependent on how comfortable the person is with Perl and CGI. Once installed and used, though, MT users can be fanatical in support, regardless of gender. I know — I’m a fanatical MT user.

(“Hello, my name is Burningbird, and I’m addicted to Moveable Type.”)

Why do I like MT? Because it’s a lovely, lovely piece of software. Powerful enough for all my needs, hooks that allow one to tweak if we wish, and now it has the MySql backend, which for a data person such as myself, is pure heaven, with little chocolate sprinkles on top.

Hmmm. Come to think of it, if Movable Type is an example of software resulting from a paired man/woman collaboration team, then I think it’s time for the software industry to look at its development practices.

(Notice how I didn’t once use “—ism”? I’m getting better. And Christine, I have Trackback enabled. Do I get a cookie? Sorry for the double ping, but MT went crazy — it pinged you three times, blo.gs, weblogs.com, and my mother. It also scritched my kitty underneath her neck, and washed the dishes in passing.)

Categories
Diversity Weblogging

Everything to do with her being a woman

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

The comments that made me so angry yesterday were attached to a posting Doc Searls wrote.

It would seem that a weblogger who works for Microsoft was being parodied, and not in good, gentle fun, either. This bit of school yard bullying was further compounded by an article by Andrew Orlowski in the Guardian. He wrote:

Of course, you’ll argue: we’re just being mean. Online journals give a billion people who can’t write and who have nothing to say the means to publish. It’s good!

To which I reply: here’s a mechanism which allows a billion people who can’t sing, can’t write a song or make an original beep, and have nothing to express, the means to deafen me with their tuneless, boring cacophony.

There is nothing I dislike more than some elitist who thinks to him or herself, “I am hot shit”, and proceeds to prove it by dumping the cold, icy water of disdain and disparagement on anyone that might, just might, prove that what they really are is a wet match rather than a blazing torch.

You could compare the parody and the original weblog. You could, except Beth Goza took down her weblog.

Doc defended Beth, a move that wasn’t easy because he knows both Beth and Andrew. I admire him for taking a stand as a professional journalist taking another professional journalist to account for using his position within a professional publication to attack what is nothing more than a personal weblog. Sure Beth may have talked about her job at Microsoft, but most of us talk about our jobs. And our cats. And the TV shows we watched last night. No call for this behavior. None at all.

However, lest you think I was so angry because of the article and the parody, I was a bit, but not enough to send me out of the house. What really made me angry was the following, written by Dave Winer in the comments:

Why such a chivalrous defense of Beth?
What did Orlowski say that was so terrible?

Does it or did it matter to you that this is about a woman?

As one who gets it every day, I gotta say it’s not cool that Doc stands up for her, when the criticism was so mild, and when she used blogs for her marketing work at MS. For crying out loud, where is the offense?

Where does sex enter into this? If we’re only allowed to defend those of the same sex, or our defense of another human being is questioned because of their sex, then this medium is truly become a sexist one, in the worst way.

I responded with any angry comment yesterday, one that Doc rightfully called me on.

Today, when I was calmer, I wrote the following:

Sorry, Doc. You’re right — this posting wasn’t meant to be objective, and my anger got away with me in my original response.

Defending another person is a noble thing to do. But bringing that person’s sex into this, out of the blue, was totally out of line. As I tried to say in my original email (and was angry, as you can tell by my use of Sullivan), if we’re going to introduce ‘sex’ into discussions such as these, then this medium has become a sexist medium.

I don’t know this person and I wanted to defend her, and not because of her sex. It was because she had a personal weblog where she talked about her company, true, but where she also talked about her cat, and her thoughts, and just stuff. A weblog. And this so-called journalist invoked an extreme elitist attitude and made fun of her, in the worst school yard bully manner. And there is nothing I despise more than a bully.

Your defense was appropriate if you think he was being mean, and personal. There was never an issue of sex in this.

By introducing Beth’s sex, Dave demoted this issue to one of ‘boys and girls’, and that was wrong, very wrong. To Beth, to Andrew, to you, to your readers.

If we introduce sex into this story, then could we also say that if Beth hadn’t been a woman, the parody site wouldn’t have been created? Or could we say if Beth hadn’t been a woman, Andrew wouldn’t have written the article, or been so cutting?

But there was no evidence that Beth’s sex had anything to do with the parody site, or Andrew’s article. So why introduce her sex when it came to her defense?

And because the issue of sex was raised, will you be more hesitant to defend a woman in the future? Will you question your motives for defending a woman? Will you ask yourself, “Am I doing this because the person deserves my defense? Or am I doing it because she’s a woman?”

I saw your defense as a professional journalist taking another to account for attacking what is nothing more than a personal journal. Sex had nothing to do with it. Well, not until it was introduced, and then it shadowed everything that occurred before and after.

We all have strength enough to fight our own battles. But if we all do so alone, then what’s the point of reaching out, with connecting with each other? When we defend another, we’re not helping just the person we’re defending — we’re helping ourselves.

Sorry for comments, and comment length. I think you were right to defend Beth and I think well of you for the act. And I agree, I hope she does get another weblog, and continues writing exactly like she does.

Dave responded immediately with a comment that said, I have to quote from memory, that Doc’s response had “everything to do with her being a woman”, and that I was out of line, and owed him a retraction and an apology for my statement yesterday. I would quote it, but the comment was pulled. Instead, a new one was added containing the following*:

Shelley, thank god you’re not the final arbiter of right and wrong.

Further, I went to the trouble of talking with Doc and asking questions and listening to the answers. We’ve been friends for fifteen years. For you to presume you know what’s right and wrong between Doc and myself is the height of arrogance.

Why don’t you ask some women what they think, if you’re full of it or not. The comments you make about me, here and elsewhere are so off the wall. I was going to demand an apology, but changed my mind. No one takes you seriously Shelley, you might want to check that out. You’ve got a few syncophants who post in your comments, but people cut you a wide path because you’re so abusive and so unfair in your criticism. I can tell you I do that, and I’ve heard it from a bunch of other people. For what it’s worth.

I do owe an apology, but it was to Doc for flaming him yesterday. That was wrong, and uncalled for, and I apologize. And I do owe Doc and Dave an apology for questioning Doc’s objectivity when it comes to their friendship and communication with each other. That was out of line.

As for the rest:

Dave, this isn’t a school yard, but I recognize another bully when I see one. The playground may be bigger, and you may be using a keyboard instead of dirt and fists, but you’re still a bully. You call people names and then cry ‘foul’ when they respond. You demand courtesy and give none. You expect fair play, and then hit below the belt. You have power, and you’re not afraid to use it to hurt others. You say the nastiest things and then you delete them after the damage has been done. When people take you to account for outrageous statements, you start clutching your chest and say, “I’m still a sick man”.

Out of curiosity, I went to your weblog, Dave, and used Google to search on “sorry” and “apologize” within your weblog postings. What an interesting experience. Have you ever apologized for anything you’ve said?

Dave, you don’t have to worry about any of my ‘sycophants’ defending me, me being a woman and all. I can handle my own battles with the likes of you. And I won’t fight my battles by lurking in others comments, either.

*Note: the comments I quoted of Dave’s have been edited. Again.

Categories
Diversity

Skin deep

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

Dorothea is on a roll! And aside from the fact that she rolled over my foot (in the nicest possible way) I like what she has to say. I, also, want nothing more than to be valued because of me, of what I am, rather than how I look.

When people look into my eyes I want them to see gentleness, or love, or intelligence rather than their color, or their shape, or the length of the lashes. When they look at my face, I hope they see humor, sadness, or joy rather than the shape of my face or the height of my cheekbones or the width of my mouth and the thickness of my lips. And when people look at my body, I would hope that they see pride and strength and determination and compassion rather than curves and breasts and skin color and height.

Dorothea writes:

Fundamentally, though, redefining pretty is not my fight. I want to be ugly and not have it matter. I want my sexual attractiveness to remain a private affair between myself and my sex partner, rather than being speculated upon by every person who so much as passes me on the street or wants to toss my blog a quick compliment. I want “bonita” and “fea” alike paired with “estar,” not “ser,” and even when the pairing is “estar bonita” I want the reaction to be fleeting and tacit, not character-defining and public.

If I disagree with Dorothea, and I think disagreement isn’t the correct term, it’s on the whole concept of ugly. Am I ugly? No. Well, then, am I beautiful? No. I don’t think there is any standard for absolute beauty or absolute ugliness, so how can I be one or the other? And as for our fit within today’s slide rule of physical conformity, does it really matter? For myself, I like me, and isn’t that what’s important?

Anne McCaffrey, popular Sci-Fi and Fantasy author, has about the best bio I have ever seen, for anyone:

My hair is silver, my eyes are green and I freckle: the rest of me is subject to change without notice.

That about sums all of us up: subject to change without notice.

We are each of us what we are, and we should be happy being what we are, the best of whatever it is we are. I would hope that those who care for me would see beyond how I look –regardless of perceived ‘good’ or ‘bad’ physical characteristics — to what I am and realize to themselves that this is truly what’s important.

Is this the same as Dorothea’s statement:

Permission to be plain, even in my own eyes. That, to me, is the self-acceptance that Burningbird wants to instill in me over coffee.

I think it is.

Added:

My mistake in previous readings of Dorothea’s posts, and for which I received gentle chastisement, is that when I read Dorothea’s statements about seeing herself as plain or ugly, I immediately wanted to say, “Dorothea! How can you say this about yourself?” Yet, Dorothea wasn’t making statements about her self worth only her perceived view of her appearance. I mixed the two up in my mind, and I put a value assessment on ‘plain’ and ‘ugly’—the very thing I just got through saying wasn’t important.

Now I think I know what Dorothea’s saying. There are times when you do have to hit me in the face with a wet mackerel for me to get the point.

(And Dorothea, Castilian hot chocolate still works for me.)

Categories
Diversity Writing

Mockingbird

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

Years ago I watched a movie that would have such a profound effect on me, that I could later flag memories by their occurrence in time before or after this event. The movie was To Kill a MockingBird, starring Gregory Peck. Unfortunately, the local library didn’t stock the book, so reading the actual story had to wait until we moved to Seattle. However, the book, as with the movie, became a personal favorite.

The strongest memory I have from watching the movie when I was younger, was the rabid dog and Atticus’ killing of it. Somehow, the violence associated with the dog, it’s madness and the necessity of having to put it down, became connected in my mind with the other acts of violence. The dog, the lynching crowd, Bob Ewell, the conviction of Tom Robinson — all acts equally mad, though some events were varnished with the pine-tar scent of righteous justice.

I also felt an identity with this movie, odd as this might sound. I grew up in a small town, though mine was in Northeast Washington rather than the South. Like Scout, I was a also a tomboy — spending my summers in adventure, wearing dresses only under protest, and able to out wrestle many of the boys my own age. In addition, I had one older brother and like Scout, would spend much of my free time unsupervised, supposedly safe within the boundaries of the mind set of a small town in the 50’s. There were also other similarities between Scout’s tale and mine, but I’ll leave that for my online book Coming of Age in John Birch Country.

(I am such a tease.)

For now, I want to direct your attention to Loren’s wonderful multi-part review of the book, beginning with his astute introduction:

If Harper Lee had limited her portrayal of prejudice and discrimination merely to the trial of Tom Robinson, a victim of the most virulent form of racial prejudice, To Kill a Mockingbird would probably be little more than a historical footnote. Wisely, though, Lee manages to tie racial prejudice to the many other forms of prejudice we all face every day of our life.

You’ll have to scroll down to get to the first part. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment with a movie, an old favorite of mine.