Archive for March, 2008

Final WAM notes, with some thoughts on changing attitudes towards male feminists

I’m at home, just after 2:00PM California time. We got up at 4:00 this morning, Massachusetts time — 1:00AM West Coast Time — to get to the airport and get on our plane from Boston to Southern California. I’m home, haven’t even thought about unpacking, and in need of both exercise and a shower (in that order).

It’s Cesar Chavez Day, a state holiday observed by some, not all public institutions across California. Pasadena City College wisely is among those that do observe the occasion, so I get to be at home to process through my tiredness rather than at work. And though I have a lot to blog about later this week and next, I wanted to write some closing thoughts on the Women, Action, and Media conference I attended this past weekend on the MIT campus. My summaries on specific events are in my two previous posts.

This was my first WAM conference, and of course, I came eager to meet and network with other feminists, particularly those whom I already “knew” through the blogosphere. I did get to meet a lot of bloggers and activists whose work I admire, particularly at the WAM party on Saturday night. Networking really does happen, and I am especially grateful to those who sought me out for the purpose of introducing me to others. So much of the blogging aspect of new media feminism is essentially solitary, so to get a chance to meet folks “in the flesh” whose online work was so familiar to me was really a delight.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, there were — not surprisingly — very few men at the WAM 2008 conference. I’ve been going to conferences and participating in the gender studies world for over two decades, so being in a minority based upon my gender is not a new experience for me. What was new, and initially disconcerting, was feeling, well, so much older than everyone else. The number of feminist bloggers over 40 is a good deal smaller than the number of feminist bloggers under that (admittedly arbitrary) demarcation line. If there were other male academics at WAM in my age bracket, I didn’t get a chance to meet any; the few other men with whom I chatted (more about one such chat in my next post) were all under 30. I did meet up with a number of women journalists, academics, and bloggers closer to my age range, but most of those chats included an almost obligatory, humorous reference to the “age gap” between ourselves and the majority of WAMmers. Continue reading ‘Final WAM notes, with some thoughts on changing attitudes towards male feminists’

Abortion, Media, Sex Work and Pink Polo Shirts: WAM Day Two, final take

BUMP: I’m thinking that being just about the only registered participant at WAM who is white, male, and over 40 means that I probably ought to have worn something other than a pink Ralph Lauren polo shirt today.

What follows below is a very long post, filled with “live-blogging” from all three sessions I attended today; it was pulled together over the space of nine hours… Continue reading ‘Abortion, Media, Sex Work and Pink Polo Shirts: WAM Day Two, final take’

Helen Thomas, and a short first night WAM report

Tonight’s opening event of the WAM 2008 conference here in Boston was a keynote address by legendary, 87 year-old White House correspondent Helen Thomas. Speaking to a crowd of several hundred “WAMmers”, many of whom — with considerable justification — lionize her for her extraordinary career as the thorn in the side of nine presidents, Thomas gave a strongly-worded call to action for young feminists and journalists.

As you’d expect, Thomas shared a great many anecdotes and reminiscences of her long career holding presidents accountable. But both during her talk and the following (lengthy) Q&A session, she returned to what was surely her central theme: the need for courage on the part of those who are angry, dispirited, and frustrated by the current state of the American media. In a very real sense, Thomas — whom Ann Friedman of Feministing introduced as the “patron saint of those who will not shut up” — embodies what is perhaps the second most essential quality for any feminist who aspires to change the world. The first essential quality, of course, is a passionate commitment to women. The second, I think, is a willingness to be tenaciously uppity and relentlessly confrontational towards injustice. For six decades, Thomas has been “getting in the faces” of those who hold (and frequently abuse) power. Those who were not born until Thomas was old enough to collect Social Security do well to learn from her tenacity and her fearlessness. Continue reading ‘Helen Thomas, and a short first night WAM report’

Ecofutures and big, green houses

My second cousin Eric Doub lives in Boulder and is the principal behind Ecofutures Building. He just got a very nice write-up in the New York Times yesterday. Cousin Eric shares some interesting tidbits, including the little-known fact that it is harder to have a “zero net-energy” small house than a big one.

Entirely coincidentally, I just spent a few minutes chatting with one of the WAM work-study employees, an MIT undergraduate majoring in civil engineering. She’s also interested in “green building.” I may have to do some email exchanging.

Anyhow, hurrah for Eric, and hurrah for Ecofutures.

Cold and wired in Cambridge

I’m sitting in the Stata Center at MIT; I’ve picked up my registration packet for the Women, Action, and Media Conference. My wife, her best buddy Amanda, and I are staying with friends down in Quincy, a few miles south of Cambridge and Boston. It is, not unpredictably, quite cold and rainy. On the drive up to the MIT campus this morning, the outside thermostat on our rented Chevrolet claimed 37 degrees.

We flew in early yesterday morning, and spent much of the day doing the normal touristy things in Boston. I’ve only been in Boston once before, to help film a documentary back in 2005. I spent all of twelve hours in Massachusetts, and five of those in a production studio in Needham, so I don’t really count that as a visit. My wife and Amanda are driving up towards New Hampshire at the moment, but I’m safely indoors for the duration. I’ve got veggie sushi and coffee, so really, there’s nothing else I need. Oh, and I’ve also got MIT’s world-class wireless internet, which seems to be the fastest I’ve ever used.

I’m not presenting anything at this conference, which both simultaneously unnerves and relieves me. It relieves me because, well, I don’t have to get up and give a paper. Though I don’t suffer much from stage fright, I still get nerves at conference presentations when I’m expected to say something really good or interesting. Not having to do anything but be an interested and engaged observer makes things easier. Of course, in another sense, it unnerves me too. When I’m speaking somewhere, I have a context in which to meet people. When I’m somewhere new and not presenting, panel-chairing, or speaking, I have to fight a tendency to disappear. My Myers-Briggs is ENFP, but the E can be awfully tenuous in certain novel situations.

Of course, sometimes I — more than most people — need to shut up and listen. Those of us who teach for a living, particularly those of us who lecture a great deal, risk being enchanted by the sound of our own voices. This is a good time for listening.

I’m looking forward to going to a variety of sessions tomorrow, and I’ll do my best to live-blog some of them. I’ve never live-blogged a conference; back when I first starting going to academic meetings (like the Medieval Association of the Pacific, the first conference I ever went to), not only was no one blogging but no one had cell phones. Nevertheless, we all did a super job of doodling on yellow legal pads while feigning earnest interest in panel discussions on the paleographic differences between Flemish and French medieval monastic hand. I trust that tomorrow’s sessions will be sufficiently challenging and inspiring that there will be no need for any kind of doodling, electronic or otherwise.

Off to Boston

I’ll be red-eyeing it out to Boston tonight to attend the Women, Action, and the Media Conference 2008. I’m not presenting, just goin’ to meet and listen and connect and learn.

They promise wireless access, so look for some sort of blogging Friday or Saturday, but the TSP and the FRT will have to wait another week. Regular posting will resume Monday or Tuesday next.

“Chivalry is deeply feminist”: butch-femme culture and a rethink on gender roles

Brownfemipower gets the hat tip and the curtsey for linking to this fascinating post at Sugarbutch Chronicles: Bringing Butch Back. It’s a succinct corrective to many of the received assumptions of Second-Wave feminism’s response to gender roles and chivalry:

Chivalry is deeply feminist to me. When in femmes, I expect femininity to be deliberate, done with the whole knowledge of the compulsory heteronormative restrictions which dictate that women must be and do certain things, particular that we must wear high heels, delicate cloth, restrictive clothing. Femininity is not made for comfort or movement, it is made to accentuate the sexualization of a woman’s body - and that’s why things like holding her doors open (so she doesn’t dirty her white gloves or expensive manicure), pulling her chair out (so she doesn’t have to awkwardly move a bulky piece of furniture, and risk getting it caught on her skirt or stockings and ripping something) or holding her coat (so she doesn’t have to reach around and risk ripping the tight seams in her shoulders or upper back) are necessary to me, as an acknowledgement of how restrictive femininity can be, and of how difficult it is to walk around the world in these clothes, as a celebration of the beauty of femininity on the body, and with deep respect for the courage to costume and perform femme to begin with.

Bold mine.

Most of the discussions about “chivalry” and “courtesy” in the feminist blogosphere are rooted in heterosexist assumptions. Virtually every feminist, early in his or her public “career” as a warrior for gender equality, gets involved in the “opening doors” and “paying for dinner” discussion. It’s remarkable how many young women, convinced that a fondness for playing traditional gender roles is at odds with egalitarian ideology, cite a fondness for “common courtesy” and “being treated like a lady” (or a “girl”, or a “woman”) as a primary reason for rejecting the feminist label. While few feminists claim that a straight woman’s conscious enjoyment of traditional gender roles automatically vitiates her feminism, most feel that it goes too far to claim the enthusiastic participation in “chivalry” as a genuinely “feminist choice.” Continue reading ‘“Chivalry is deeply feminist”: butch-femme culture and a rethink on gender roles’

Categories Galore

On my right-hand sidebar, I have 84 different categories for the 2,030 posts I’ve made since January 2004.

Six categories have over 200 posts, and they reflect my primary interests:

1. Feminism (416)
2. Christianity (321)
3. Men and Masculinity (292)
4. Politics (255)
5. Teaching (243)
6. Sexuality (227)

So, over half my posts over the past four years have had to do with Masculinity, or Christianity, or Feminism — or all three. That’s good to know, I suppose.

But at some point, these categories become unwieldy. Who wants to wade through 416 posts? The smaller categories end up being more popular. My most commonly clicked categories are not from these top six subjects; rather they are the following (in order of popularity):

1. Older Men, Younger Women (27)
2. Student Crushes (10)
3. Masturbation (6)
4. Rate My Professors (19)
5. Porn (44)
6. Circumcision (5)

And I get a remarkable number of hits on the ONE post in my Sociopaths category.

Whattya think? More categories? Fewer? What to do, as my archives grow and grow and I show no signs — yet — of flagging?

Oh, this is the 192nd post in the blogging category.

Conversation, conversion, and the enduring stain: rebuking Jonah Goldberg on race

Jonah Goldberg alternately entertains and infuriates, and today, he’s definitely leaning towards the latter with this column: A Race Conversation? What Are You Talking About? Writing about Barack Obama’s highly-publicized and well-received speech on race last week, Goldberg marvels:

…when one luminary after another smacks his forehead like someone who forgot to have a V8 in epiphanic awe over the genius of Obama’s call for a national conversation on race, all I can do is wonder: “What on Earth are you people talking about?”

Oh, thank goodness Obama fired the starter’s pistol in the race to discuss race. Here I’d been under the impression that every major university (and minor one for that matter) in the country already had boatloads of courses — often entire majors — dedicated to race in America.

In other words, Jonah thinks the “conversation” began a long time ago, has continued for far too long, and probably ought to be dropped. Obama’s claim that a genuinely honest discussion hasn’t even started is too much for Goldberg to bear, and Jonah uses his one good trick (the clever use of obscure cultural references) to belabor the point that, well, we’ve been talking about race forever and a day. Can’t we stop now, he wonders in his affected, privileged weariness? For God’s sake, hasn’t Trent Lott suffered enough?

Jonah reminds me of the chronically unfaithful husband who, after years of screwing around on his wife, finally makes a serious commitment to monogamy. He pledges everlasting loyalty — this time — and is incensed that after two full weeks of keeping his pants zipped, his wife wants to go to therapy to “talk through their issues.” What’s there to talk about, he wonders? Isn’t the past the past? Can’t you just get over it? We talked last week, for Pete’s sake!

White people who are tired of talking about race often behave like newly sober alcoholics, eager to “focus on the future” and “forget about the past.” Because they aren’t drinking anymore (or lynching anyone this particular afternoon), they are annoyed when those who have been victimized by their recklessness or their privilege insist on “having a conversation” about what’s happened — and what may still be happening. “But I’m different today”, says the former drunk who’s just taken his 30-day chip at an AA meeting to his wife; “you should trust me now.” Continue reading ‘Conversation, conversion, and the enduring stain: rebuking Jonah Goldberg on race’

Amanda Marcotte’s danceable revolution: on “It’s a Jungle Out There”: UPDATED

UPDATE:

As of April 25, I am suspending my endorsement of this book until a new edition appears. I read this book without more than a cursory glance at the comic images used to illustrate it, images that were deeply offensive and unmistakably racist. Though Amanda Marcotte did not select these images herself, she and the publisher share responsibility for a very unfortunate lapse in judgment. As a result, I cannot in good conscience support the sale of the currently available edition. When a new edition appears — may it be soon — without these indefensible images within its pages, my endorsement will stand.

It took others to point out what I could not see. I am ashamed of that. This review stands in its entirety, with this disclaimer attached.

Last week, It’s a Jungle Out There: The Feminist Survival Guide to Politically Inhospitable Environments arrived on my desk. Amanda Marcotte’s new book from Seal Press is indeed available now, and over the course of the Easter weekend, I made my way through its brief and breezy 235 pages.

Amanda was a leading figure in the feminist blogosphere before she and Melissa McEwan were involved, over a year ago, in the now-infamous John Edwards blogging drama. (Details in this Salon article.) I’ve been reading Amanda since 2004, when she blogged at the now-defunct Mouse Words; since moving to the widely-read Pandagon, she’s become one of the most prolific and best-known of feminist bloggers. She’s also become one of the most controversial, not least for her fierce and occasionally profane perspectives. Despite her rising fame and her book deal(s), Amanda remains legendary for her willingness to comment frequently and thoughtfully on an extraordinary number of lesser-known blogs. I can’t think of many bloggers as well-known as she who do so much to nurture and encourage good feminist writing from all corners and all comers.

“Jungle” is listed (on the back jacket) as “Politics/Humor.” It goes without saying that writing and performing political humor is a tricky business; what one reader finds hilarious another will invariably find offensive or dull. I can’t imagine many people being bored by Amanda’s rapier wit, but I do know her capacity to alienate is formidable. Those already hostile to feminism, or those who are “on the fence” about women’s equality, are not the ideal audience for this rambunctious tour through the minefields that confront young American women today. In any movement, you need great satirists — and winsome apologists. Amanda Marcotte is definitely in the former category. She’s not winsome, she’s not irenic, and her writing isn’t going to make your misogynistic brother-in-law suddenly start donating to Planned Parenthood and start sharing the housework burden for the first time in his life. But for the right reader, “Jungle” will prove an inspiration and a delight. Continue reading ‘Amanda Marcotte’s danceable revolution: on “It’s a Jungle Out There”: UPDATED’

Easter Report

I’m in the office early on a Monday morning after a brief and happy Easter weekend visit with my family in Northern California. Details on the holiday below.

Mine is a deeply secular family. A few of us became serious Christians as adults, but the bulk of the clan tends towards a vaguely benevolent agnosticism, often expressed in a deep affection for the liturgy and the traditions of the Episcopal church. I don’t talk much about religion with my loved ones, not because to do so would be to invite a quarrel, but because it tends to expose a gulf that, most of the time, we enjoy pretending isn’t there.

Certain rituals have been part of my life for as long as I can remember, chief among them the dyeing of eggs the day before Easter. The fact that my wife and I are now vegans has in no way diminished our enthusiasm for coloring the shells of what we will not eat! This past Saturday, as on so many countless Easter eves before, we set up a large folding table on the porch of the “old house” at the family Ranch. We covered the table with newspaper, and placed the bowls of bright blue, yellow, red, green, pink, and orange dye (food coloring and vinegar) about. The youngest dyer this year was a mature ten; the oldest (my mother), an immensely experienced seventy. My wife, celebrating her fifth Easter in the bosom of my large and eccentric family, brought a certain elegantly Latin flair to the otherwise WASPish proceeding. Continue reading ‘Easter Report’

Friday Random Ten: Good Friday + Purim Edition

We’re off for the Easter weekend, posting will resume Monday. A joyous Purim and a holy Good Friday to all! And hurrah for Spring; family folklore suggests that if it is warm enough, today is an especially auspicious day to plant in the garden.

Lots of goodness on this FRT, heavy as always on female artists. Missy Higgins and Catherine Feeny are both recent happy discoveries.

1. “Scattered Leaves”, Be Good Tanyas
2. “Roses in the Snow”, Emmylou Harris
3. “Logtown”, The Peasall Sisters
4. “No One”, Alicia Keys
5. “Walk Down this Mountain”, Bebo Norman
6. “If I Had a Hammer”, Sam Cooke
7. “Come Away with Me”, Norah Jones
8. “Rock Me on the Water”, Jackson Browne
9. “Goodbye”, The Waifs
10. “Scar”, Missy Higgins

Bonus Track (the one I’ve been listening to all week on repeat) “The Shape You’re In”, Catherine Feeny

The enemy of desire is duty: against the 30-Day sex challenge and “Relevant Church”

Marvin Lindsay sends me a link to the 30-Day Sex Challenge, famously initiated last month at the Relevant Church in Tampa, Florida. The challenge was simple: all married couples in the congregation were asked to have sex with each other each day for thirty days. These days were specific, mind you, running from February 17 to March 16. Presumably, the couples of this congregation are resting up this week for Easter? (Marvin’s take on the whole thing is here.)

First off, the name “Relevant Church”. I can’t think of a name for a Christian gathering I’ve liked less; it’s pandering and patronizing and offensive. It’s one of those terms (”Enlightenment” is another) that immediately creates unnecessary barriers by implying that if you aren’t with us, you’re the opposite of whatever virtuous thing it is that we proclaim to be. It’s one thing to call yourself a Christian Church, as that term doesn’t automatically imply that all others aren’t; to call yourself “Relevant” reveals the disdain you hold for the poor folk down the street at “First Baptist” or “St. Timothy’s”. I think I’m going to start a congregation called “Good Looking Hipster-People Church”, and see how that goes over.

Anyhow, on to the sex. Continue reading ‘The enemy of desire is duty: against the 30-Day sex challenge and “Relevant Church”’

Thursday Short Poem: Sexton’s “The Rowing Endeth”

This was the second poem I ever put up here on the blog, back when I started doing Thursday Short Poems in July ‘04, at the suggestion of Annika. If I could have the collected works of but three poets on a desert island, I’d pick Auden, Jeffers, and Anne Sexton. She means as much to me today as she did when I first discovered her in my adolescence, and this poem is just the thing as I head through Holy Week as an unchurched, but still passionate, lover of the God of surprises and the perfect hand.

the rowing endeth

I’m mooring my rowboat
at the dock of the island called God.
This dock is made in the shape of a fish
and there are many boat moored
at many different docks.
“It’s okay,” I say to myself,
with blisters that broke and healed
and broke and healed–
saving themselves over and over.
And salt sticking to my face and arms like
a glue-skin pocked with grains of tapioca.
I empty myself from my wooden boat
and onto the flesh of The Island.

“On with it!” he says and thus
we squat on the rocks by the sea and play–can it
be true–a game of poker.
He calls me.
I win because I hold a royal straight flush.
He wins because He holds five aces.
A wild card had been announced
but I had not heard it
being in such a state of awe
when He took out the cards and dealt.
As he plunks down His five aces
and I sit grinning at my royal flush,
He starts to laugh,
the laughter rolling like a hoop out of His mouth
and into mine,
and such laughter that He doubles right over me
laughing a Rejoice-Chorus at our two triumphs.
Then I laugh, the fishy dock laughs
the sea laughs. The Island laughs.
The Absurd laughs.

Dearest dealer,
I with my royal straight flush,
love you so for your wild card,
that untamable, eternal, gut-driven ha-ha
and lucky love.

Wednesday Night Link Love

Of all the responses to yesterday’s Barack Obama speech, Russell Arben Fox has written my favorite: The Speech. It’s a lengthy post, but worth the push. BlackAmazon has a briefer, but in its own right quite powerful take.

Lynn writes on being “white and ethnic”.

Our Descent proffers the Proust Questionnaire.

Sylvia on Shirley Chisholm, the first candidate for president for whom I wore a button (age five).

Jessica at Jezebel posts in response to Elizabeth Wurtzel’s piece in the Times, and my “blowback”. She gets my name wrong, but that’s okay. My great-great-great grandfather was named Hugh Goodfellow, so you can call me Hugh all you like.