So apparently everybody on this whole planet is clamouring about '420', and of course being the culturally inept, deprived soul that I am, I had no idea what the big fuss was about. So, in an attempt to pre-empt any embarassing faux-pas I might make in conversation tomorrow (or today, rather - I'm up late as usual), I quickly Googled "April 20" to ascertain what they could be referring to.
Now usually I think of Hitler's birth or Columbine when April 20th rolls around, but on reviewing a list of events that happened on that day, I was pleasantly surprised to see that on the April 20th of 2001, China removed homosexuality from their list of mental illnesses (and the best part is, I can somewhat indirectly justify to myself that my discovery could potentially relate back to the material I was supposed to be studying and not feel bad about being so easily distracted!).
Anyway, I digress. I figure that most of the people I know are referring to 420, the holiday in cannabis culture, but why celebrate pot when you can celebrate legitimate recognition and equality? Happy Homosexuality-is-not-a-mental-illness Day, people! Let's get high off of acceptance :)
...but exams are ramping up and I am completely not prepared. YFNF will pick up during the summer - and that's a promise!
However, I just -had- to post this ridiculousness up. Look at this. It's absolute dreck.
Good job, Amazon.
They later claimed it was a "technical glitch" and they're now "working on fixing it". Yea, I didn't know discrimination could be solved by computer troubleshooting.
[Edit on April 13] - A further update: Apparently not only have they de-ranked and removed ratings for feminist books such as the "Yes Means Yes" anthology on sexual violence, my well-informed source tells me that pro-sexuality books and books on disabilities are now also affected. Real smooth, Amazon. Real smooth.
Labels: Amazonfail, homophobia, LGBT community, literature
The Vagina Monologues are in town! As many of you know, the Monologues - performances celebrating the woman and the vagina - inspired a global movement to end gender-based violence against girls and women. This movement was titled V-Day and, happily, it's been a relatively successful universal effort to promote an end to violence against females as we know it. So if you get a chance to attend the Vag Monologues, the performances are definitely worth it. Even if you can't attend, I highly suggest checking out some of the monologues on Youtube. They'll make you laugh, they'll make you cry - but most importantly, they'll make you think. =)
Today I had an ... experience. I don't think I would have immediately classified it as a "good" one, but after a while I've decided that although I was initially offended when first confronted with it, it ultimately gave me some good thinking material to mull over for the day (even though I should have been paying attention in class).
I was sitting on a crowded bus on the way to campus, in the seat facing the rear door. Two women stood in front of me, hanging onto the poles for support and discussing their recent experiences with boyfriends. Somehow the conversation turned to a male friend who loved having deep conversations with his female friends. These females would all subsequently 'fall in love with him' because of his willingness to share sensitive information with them – as one of the women said, “They must think, ‘Oh, you’re willing to tell me all these secrets about you – we must have a special relationship!"
Anyway, I digress.
The first woman continued to complain that the male friend was completely clueless as to why his female friends would “fall in love” with him. The other woman chimed in:
“He needs to stop thinking there’s something wrong with the women, and re-evaluate what he might be doing. I mean, it’s the same as a woman who walks around with her cleavage hanging out, wondering,” and here the woman affected the voice of a typical ditzy airheaded girl, “‘why are all these guys staring?’”
I slightly winced; I was myself wearing a shirt with a relatively low neck and these women were literally hovering over me. Apparently they noticed my flinch, because there was an awkward silence before the other woman piped up again:
“It’s not the issue of asking for trouble, it’s the issue of demanding attention.”
The first woman nodded in agreement. “If a woman goes to the same bar every night and she gets raped each time, she needs to realize that maybe it’s something that she’s doing that’s causing it to happen.”
At this point, we had reached the bus stop on campus and everybody was getting up. The women both briskly walked off and I watched them continue their conversation out of my hearing.
The myth we’ll be busting today, as you may have figured out, is:
Do women ask for attention of the bad sort when they dress in revealing clothes?
The quick answer is: Of course not! Do men ask to be wolf whistled at, grabbed at, or even raped when they walk around with tight spandex shirts or their pants sagging halfway down their butts? Why don’t we call these men sluts? Why is it just women?
What’s important is who you are, not what you wear – and what you wear will NEVER justify the accusation that you asked for rape, period. And yes, that includes prostitutes, call girls, and strippers - everyone is a human being, deserving of equal respect. A ‘business contract’ between the client and the service provider does not legitimize violence, even within the sex trade.
How in the world did victims become guilty of perpetrating the crimes committed against them? Have you ever heard of a shopkeeper blamed for having his window display broken into, or the jury at a hit-and-run trial whispering, “That child was ASKING to be run over, he was playing near the street”?
There’s a gigantic double-standard society created that somehow we've all been tricked into thinking is natural. A girl who is open about her sexuality is a whore, a slut, the local neighbourhood bike. A man bragging about his sexual conquests while (very tastefully, might I add) grabbing at his crotch is a stud, a player – in other words, a ‘real man’. Those two women on the bus today truly, truly believed that a woman could be blamed for an individual attacking her, violating her bodily rights in the worst way imaginable, and then adding insult to injury by claiming no fault since the victim originally asked for it.
But I guess those women were right to an extent. Women who dress confidently are not asking for trouble, but demanding attention. I am one of them. I wear shirts with low scoop necks, and tight jeans. But when I say I demand attention, I don't demand it for my cleavage. I demand attention for issues like rape, relationship abuse, and violence against women. And I demand attention as to just how ridiculous it is to say that the tops of my exposed breasts would justify ANY violence as the fault of the victim.
And just to bring it back to V-Day and the Vagina Monologues, here’s a relevant monologue I particularly enjoyed:
It is not an invitation
a provocation
an indication
that I want it
or give it
or that I hook.
My short skirt
is not begging for it
it does not want you
to rip it off me
or pull it down.
My short skirt
is not a legal reason
for raping me
although it has been before
it will not hold up
in the new court.
My short skirt, believe it or not
has nothing to do with you.
My short skirt
is about discovering
the power of my lower calves
about cool autumn air traveling
up my inner thighs
about allowing everything I see
or pass or feel to live inside.
My short skirt is not proof
that I am stupid
or undecided
or a malleable little girl.
My short skirt is my defiance
I will not let you make me afraid
My short skirt is not showing off
this is who I am
before you made me cover it
or tone it down.
Get used to it.
My short skirt is happiness
I can feel myself on the ground.
I am here. I am hot.
My short skirt is a liberation
flag in the women's army
I declare these streets, any streets
my vagina's country.
My short skirt
is turquoise water
with swimming colored fish
a summer festival
in the starry dark
a bird calling
a train arriving in a foreign town
my short skirt is a wild spin
a full breath
a tango dip
my short skirt is
initiation
appreciation
excitation.
But mainly my short skirt
and everything under it
is Mine.
Mine.
Mine.
YFNF (Your Friendly Neighbourhood Feminist)
Labels: gender-based violence, mythbusting, V-Day
Have you ever filled out an application or a medical form? If you have, you'll remember that under the area where you fill in your name, the forms will ask you one of two things.
(1) Sex: _______ (or Male/Female),
or
(2) Gender: _______ (or Male/Female)
Now, it's never both, so by that token we can assume that these terms are interchangeable. But...do they really embody the same concept? Are sex and gender one and the same?
I remember this very clearly, because it was the very first thing I learned when I sat down for my first Women's Studies lecture. The professor asked the class if we knew what the difference was, and aside from a few knowing nods from the savvy individuals who decided to do the readings ahead of time, she largely received blank stares.
"Sex," she said, "is biological. Gender, however, is not."
Simply put, we are all born with a sex, whether it be male, female, or otherwise. The birthing doctor checks between our legs the minute we are born - if we have a tiny vagina we're female, if we have a tiny penis we're male, and if we have both then we're hermaphrodites.
So sex relies on the biological set of genitalia we have. Gender, on the other hand, is a social construction. Based on whether we have a vagina or a penis, society gives us a role to play out. If we have a vagina then the gender ascribed to us is that of a woman, and if we have a penis then the gender ascribed to us is that of a man - and if we have both, then our guardians and the doctor just pick one (either woman or man) and we go along with that one.
From birth we are taught gender, and it affects every single thing we do. It's been with us so long that we've grown to accept (and defend) gender as something 'natural' to us, something we were born with instead of being socialized into. For instance, we've all seen babies before. The toys, the clothes, even the design of the baby room all are determined by what gender we have attributed with that baby. Male children are taught to be boys by society - they play with trucks, they get into fights, and are told not to cry when they scrape their knees. Female children are taught to be girls - they play with dolls, they are prim and proper, and they are fussed over when they fall and bruise their elbows.
It's no surprise that we've grown up to conflate our biological sex with a certain gender. Deviation from your prescribed gender, which is identified when you act out behaviour that conflicts with your sex (for instance, a female who sits on the bus with her legs wide open - a behaviour very, very common with 'men' as any quick trip on public transit will prove), is immediately chastised. You are told to stop being "so unladylike" or to stop being "such a sissy".
Have you ever heard of people claiming to be 'true' men and 'true' women? These individuals define themselves by how well they act out the gender prescribed to them by society. However, most of those very same individuals fail to figure out just how little sex has to do with gender. Many of us don't realize that we are not born with genders, but only sexes. Gender is, as Judith Butler says, a performance of all the characteristics that society sees a particular sex to possess. Although many will associate gender performance with the typical drag queen, there are individuals who will live their entire lives as the gender opposite to their biological sex - not for money or for enjoyment, but to be true to who they perceive themselves to be as people.
Here's a famous (and tragic) example of gender performance: Brandon Teena.
In addition, there is an entire world of gender-bending identities out there. Take the transgendered (or third gendered) being, who identifies with the gender usually prescribed to the opposite biological sex; or the two spirited being, a Native American who embodies both feminine and masculine traits.
Okay, let's quickly recap:
Sex
- female or male
- defined by biological genitalia
Gender
- woman or man
- socially ascribed
- based on how a society perceives females and males to be like
Hopefully this short post is adequate enough to point out the plethora of differences between sex and gender that go so unnoticed. Let's not be bound by our biological sex in determining who we are as gendered (or ungendered) individuals!
Thanks for reading,
YFNF (Your Friendly Neighbourhood Feminist)
Labels: biological vs. social, gender, gender performance, gender studies, sex, transgender, two-spirit
Hi.
Sorry, I'm fairly bad at introductory posts when I first kick start a new blog. It's been an issue with me since high school. I guess I'll start off with some information about me, and then about this blog.
I'm currently in university in the third year of my undergraduate program, majoring in political science with a minor in sociology. I advocate feminism and it really bugs me that not only is the world indiscriminately unfair, but also that we all have a hand in letting those who benefit from that arbitrary imbalance get away with it by ignoring or trivializing that unfairness. Even if it's just through spreading consciousness about issues - which may not always be feminist, but could address human rights in general as well - I just know that people can and will start caring, and doing something about it as well. And no, I am not doing this for marks; it's out of my own interest that I started this blog. I wish I could get academic credit for doing this, though. Oh, and as an addendum for those who are curious, I am female, although it shouldn't matter because:
There's not really much to say, except that I can't wait to start posting! With this blog, I really hope that I can bring issues that I think are important to the forefront, and dispel any popular myths about feminists, women, people, or cultures in general. Sometimes I feel that it's hard for us to read feminist academic work for various reasons - we might not be able to relate, or the writing is so strongly voiced that it seemingly borders on hatred for some, or the terminology really isolates us from the author. I hope that through this blog I can make it easier for people to relate to certain events or issues by explaining complicated terms (that once too probably had my head spinning the moment I looked at them), relating topics to experiences that we all have probably been through, and just in general, making it easier for people to see the side of feminism that isn't as radical as they might have thought, without watering down the power of the original arguments (I do not mean to discredit my radical feminist colleagues here - their branch of feminist theory has its own, different validity as well).
Anyway, that's the general purpose I have in mind and again, I really look forward to finally getting this blog started - after all, the idea has been bouncing around in my head for a good half a year now. Constructive, non-hateful comments are appreciated, and suggestions for any topics you want me to blog about are highly encouraged.
Thanks for reading!
YFNF (Your Friendly Neighbourhood Feminist)
Labels: beginnings, education, feminist men, gender, inequity, mythbusting, political activism, radical feminism, sex