Archive for April, 2008

“Fly, you fools!” A simple answer to the question about where to go to college: UPDATED

I’ve been getting emails and calls and visits this week from various students who, having been accepted to at least two colleges to which they have applied for transfer admission, are now trying to decide where to go for school.

Let me make it simple: all things being equal (and Berkeley and UCLA are pretty equal in most programs, as are Cal State LA and Sacramento State), go to college as far away as possible from your friends, family, and everything you have known. I don’t know if anyone has copyrighted it yet, so call it the Gandalf theory of higher education. When in doubt, and if you can possibly afford it financially, move away.

So much of a good college education takes place outside of the classroom. Disconnecting from loved ones, if only for a time, is a vital part of becoming an adult. Not everyone has the luxury of making such a choice, but if my advice is asked, my answer is essentially the same as that uttered by Gandalf the Grey in his last words before the Balrog drags him down.

I do understand that some students must live at home for financial reasons. Though I think debt and independence are preferable to solvency and enmeshment, that’s a personal cultural bias on my part, a bias others may not share. I do think that there is much to be said for spending as much time as possible in another corner of the state or country, exposed to different weather, different media markets, different social values.

And for what it’s worth, as someone with an undergrad degree from Cal and a Ph.D. from UCLA, I can say that I loved Berkeley with every fiber of my being. My attachment to Westwood never rose above the tepid. But as they say, your mileage may vary.

UPDATE: I’m bumping this up from the comments section. Daisy at Our Descent offers the exact opposite advice in a lovely post. I’d like to note that my wife shares a view closer to Daisy’s; she graduated from high school in Glendale and headed off to USC, living at home the entire time. She wouldn’t have changed that for the world.

In the end, I acknowledge that giving advice about going to college is like giving advice about whether to have sex at a young age: the right answer is contingent upon a unique set of circumstances surrounding the needs of the particular person inquiring.

I’d point out, though — and this is clearly for a future post, maybe soon — that the desire for autonomy is not evidence of a lack of devotion to family. As I’ve argued before, WASPy families in which men never do more than shake hands to show affection to each other, and where children leave home at 18, never to return, are no less intensely loving for their commitment to formality and personal autonomy.

More on that to come.

The devil feeds on resentment: on marriage, sex, duty, and the “extra mile”

Jeremy Pierce posted an interesting piece yesterday: Sex and Duty. He’s taking issue with some aspects of my take on the 30-Day Sex Challenge. My basic point was that desire and duty are mutually exclusive, particularly where sex is concerned. I argued that the Pauline doctrine of mutual submission and the apostle’s words in 1 Corinthians 7 do not constitute an obligation to be sexually available to a partner when one is not in the mood.

One mistake I made in the original post gives Jeremy an opening to challenge my position. Casually taking Matthew 5:41 completely out of context, I wrote: Challenging spouses to “go the extra mile” for each other is a biblically and psychologically sound notion.

Jeremy jumps on that:

This Pauline view can be easily motivated by Jesus’ teaching in the Sermon on the Mount, particularly by the Golden Rule (do to others what you’d want them to do for you) and the extra mile (if someone asks you to carry something a mile, do it for two miles, and if someone asks for your coat offer up your shirt too). Jesus speaks as if this sort of thing is a typical characteristic of his followers, and those who don’t do this are failing to be like citizens of the kingdom of God out to be. I can see how someone would apply such statements to the case at hand by arguing for a duty to have sex even when one isn’t interested for the sake of the sex.

But this is not duty for the mere sake of duty. It’s duty for the sake of the other person. If a person motivated by love for another person has a duty to do what’s loving for the other person, there may well be times when that involves having sex when one otherwise wouldn’t have been interested, and Jesus’ teaching does seem to include cases like that. I’m not sure why cases of voluntarily being willing to have sex when one isn’t interested should be exceptions to the kinds of loving acts he commands in those passages.

Of course, as Walter Wink and other theologians have pointed out, much of Matthew 5 is concerned not with how we treat those whom we love, but those whom we hate. Wink points out that the challenge to go the second or extra mile had a specific meaning:

Jesus’ third example, the one about going the second mile, is drawn from the relatively enlightened practice of limiting the amount of forced or impressed labor (angareia) that Roman soldiers could levy on subject peoples to a single mile…

It is in this context of Roman military occupation that Jesus speaks. He does not counsel revolt…

But why carry his pack a second mile? Is this not to rebound to the opposite extreme of aiding and abetting the enemy? Not at all. The question here… is how the oppressed can recover the initiative and assert their human dignity in a situation that cannot for the time being be changed. The rules are Caesar’s, but how one responds to the rules is God’s, and Caesar has no power over that…From a situation of servile impressment, the oppressed have once more seized the initiative. They have taken back the power of choice…
Continue reading ‘The devil feeds on resentment: on marriage, sex, duty, and the “extra mile”’

“Seal Press Saved My Life”

Victoria Marinelli has a powerful post up this morning in defense of Seal Press. An excerpt:

Part of why I will always support Seal Press is because of a volume you published when, I am certain, no one else was brave enough to: Kerry Lobel and the NCADV’s “Naming the Violence: Speaking Out About Lesbian Battering.” (That book saved my life once.)

And now I see you have quite a range of new material, and that you are doing your damnedest to survive as a feminist publisher. I understand you’ve had some travails of late, and I hope they’ve been a learning and growing experience for you. I’ll be cheering you all the way.

Long live Seal Press.

Read the whole thing. I’m using two Seal Press books in my courses this fall.

DMV

Very busy day, including a trip to the DMV to have my picture taken for my license renewal. I’ve got a post in mind about the reluctance of young people today to rush to get their licenses, which is a striking change from the experience of my generation. It will have to wait.

In the meantime, I realize that I am wearing the same shirt I had on the last time I had my license photo taken. I may like me my fashions, but I do get a heck of a lot of wear out of the clothes I buy.

On compartments, fuck-ups, and more precious voices leaving the blogosphere

Eliot was right about the cruelty of April. Jill at Feministe has announced she is taking an extended hiatus from blogging, joining Blackamazon and Brownfemipower as prominent voices who have chosen to leave the ’sphere in the aftermath of some immensely painful discussions about race, class, gender, and identity. I’ve been reading Jill since she joined Feministe years ago, and I will miss her prolific and insightful posts. How she blogged so much whilst in law school is beyond me.

I won’t say I haven’t thought about taking a break as well. (I do take short hiatuses of a week or three fairly regularly). Sometimes, I wonder if I’ve run out of things to say, or if, as Jill wondered today, my voice is doing more harm than good. I am confident an extended break will happen someday, but for now, I’m going to keep at it.

One aspect of male privilege, I recognize, is the learned ability to compartmentalize. I’ve railed against various aspects of compartmentalization before, particularly when it becomes a device for avoiding the hard work of reconciling contradictory aspects of one’s life. At the same time, there are some useful aspects to compartmentalization, particularly when it comes to blogging. Continue reading ‘On compartments, fuck-ups, and more precious voices leaving the blogosphere’

Arnold redefines “bi”-partisanship

It’s hard to stay too angry at Governor Schwarzenegger for long, even as he says remarkably maddening and inane things. Still, at least fifty percent of the time he represents a kind of moderate, sensible Republicanism that has been almost obliterated from the American scene. As one who wants to see the GOP return to the tradition of Pete McCloskey and Millicent Fenwick, I have a healthy dose of affection for my state’s governor, even as I have not forgotten his many shortcomings and liabilities.

But today’s quote from Arnold is priceless:

“I sleep with a Democrat every night. If I can do it, legislators can too. I’m not telling them to sleep together. That’s not what I’m saying, but…”

I love my state. (Cap tap to my former student and GOP politico, Brandon Powers). And I sleep with a woman with whom I share my life but not a common political outlook, so the governor and I have something in common beyond our Austrian heritage.

Nouns, not adjectives: Caroline Heldman and young women’s self-objectification

The new issue of Ms. Magazine hits the stands tomorrow. Of particular interest is an article by Caroline Heldman, assistant professor at nearby Occidental College: Out-of-Body Image: Self-objectification—seeing ourselves through others’ eyes—impairs women’s body image,mental health, motor skills and even sex lives. (It’s not available online; you will need to splurge for the magazine, which is well worth doing. A subscription is better. Ms., Bitch, and MakeShift are the three indispensables of feminist publishing.)

Heldman:

A steady diet of exploitative, sexually provocative depictions
of women feeds a poisonous trend in women’s and
girls’ perceptions of their bodies, one that has recently been
recognized by social scientists as self-objectification—
viewing one’s body as a sex object to be consumed by the
male gaze. Like W.e.b. DuBois’ famous description of the
experience of black Americans, self-objectification is a
state of “double consciousness…a sense of always looking
at one’s self through the eyes of others.”

In my work as a youth minister and as a women’s studies professor, I’ve seen this phenomenon grow seemingly worse in recent years. Paris Hilton’s remarks about sexualiy and her own self-objectification resonate; in 2005, she remarked that her titillating image is a product of her sexy sense of style, and in reality her boyfriends have commented on her less than rampant libido. She says, “I’m sexual in pictures and the way I dress and my whole image. But at home I’m really not like that. In other words, her sexuality is largely performative, almost entirely a response to an outsider’s gaze and not an expression of her own inner longing for anything other than validation. I’ve brought up this insight of Hilton’s with some of my students, and seen a variety of reactions, ranging from surpise to vigorous nods of recognition. Continue reading ‘Nouns, not adjectives: Caroline Heldman and young women’s self-objectification’

Sunday night thoughts on whiteness

I got home from my run in time to catch most of Jeremiah Wright’s speech at the NAACP convention in Detroit. I’d heard him a few times before, but was mesmerized by what he had to say tonight. I can’t find a full transcript online yet; if someone has one available, I’d be grateful for a link in the comments.

The fellow who introduced Dr. Wright used his first name repeatedly, evidently driving home the point that Barack Obama’s pastor speaks as part of a prophetic tradition that goes back as far — or farther — than the first famed Jeremiah. Those who splutter in righteous indignation at the reverend’s now-ubiquitious “God damn America” sermon would do well to reacquaint themselves with the Old Testament biblical tradition. I’m sure that this point has been made by many others, but it deserves repeating: prophetic language has political implications, but is not the same as political discourse. Only someone with a poorly-formed theology could assume that God will not punish America as he punished His beloved Israel. If God could allow the holy city on the hill, His beloved Jerusalem, to be sacked repeatedly; if he could permit and perhaps even will the first and second temples to both be destroyed, if his prophets could suggest that that destruction was earned and deserved, then it is jingoistic hubris to say that God holds the United States in higher esteem.

Watching Dr. Wright early this evening, I thought about the discomfort so many white Americans have with frank expressions of black anger. I thought as well about this comment by Fred, written in response to this post. Fred:

Maybe it is a matter of semantics, but I do not completely understand your comment on whiteness. “I have willfully refused to reject, renounce, or even seriously reflect upon my whiteness.” Skin pigmentation is an immutable trait, so what is there to reject or renounce. Should people also renounce their “blackness”? Or is “whiteness” some kind of euphemism for being a racial bigot?

When I wrote about “whiteness”, I wasn’t writing about my ethnicity or my skin pigmentation — but rather about a specific kind of privilege. One of the best-known short explanations of what white privilege is comes from Peggy McIntosh: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack. (A few years ago, Amp at Alas, A Blog posted his marvelous update on male privilege, riffing on McIntosh’s work.) When I write about renouncing whiteness, I am not talking about rejecting my European-American heritage; I’m talking about doing everything I reasonably can to avoid unconsciously benefitting from the system that McIntosh so effectively describes. Continue reading ‘Sunday night thoughts on whiteness’

Go to Claudette

I’ve worked a bit with a professional writing coach, Claudette Sutherland. Claudette is presenting a workshop; here’s the info:

One True Sentence…

Sunday May 4

6:00-7:30

Admission will be $8.00

Electric Lodge Theatre

1416 Electric Avenue

Just at Venice and Abbot Kinney

You will hear and see how writing gets from here to there; from imagination to paper read by a collection of Los Angeles writers from several genres all in the process of growing and shaping their work. Samplings are from personal essay, fiction and memoir moderated by Claudette Sutherland from her classes in Creative Writing.

It is a provocative way to spend a couple of hours in the company of like-minded artists and a good setting for some conversation on creativity.

You can visit Claudette’s web site at http://www.gotoclaudette.com and see her student’s work all of which grew out of commitment to class, to practice and the work at hand.

If you live in L.A. and are thinking of taking the leap into writing anything — fiction or non — it’s well-worth your time. Amazing things can indeed happen.

One of those “something’s gotta give” moments

I’m sticking an entire post below the fold, and leaving the comments turned off. It’s pretty damn stream-of-consciousness, and though I am as sober as can be, I may regret this post in the morning. It’s been a very emotional day. Continue reading ‘One of those “something’s gotta give” moments’

Friday Random Ten: “the magic grading machine is busted” edition

The bonus track is all over America now as a result of its perfect use in the JC Penney ad campaign. #6 is as good a neo-traditional track as you could ask for; #8 is the catchiest thing I’ve heard from Norah Jones. And I first heard #2 playing on an American Airlines flight as I was boarding a few weeks ago. And though my wife likes her Luther Vandross, for my money no one in music today gets longing and desire into a song quite the way Me’Shell Ndegeocello does. She’s indispensable for uh, “mood music.” Here endeth the TMI.

1. “Bitter Love Song”, Kris Delmhorst
2. “Sing Along”, Virginia Coalition
3. “Definite Maybe”, The Kinks
4. “Daughter of Heaven”, Kate Rusby
5. “Before the Deluge”, Jackson Browne
6. “Down by the Quarry”, Oh Susanna
7. “Colors of Your Heart”, Emmylou Harris
8. “Long Way Home”, Norah Jones
9. “Take to the World”, Derek Webb and Dan Haseltine
10. “Bitter”, Me’Shell Ndegeocello

Bonus Track: “Killing the Blues”, Allison Krauss and Robert Plant

On Lorna the Jungle Girl and the dark-skinned natives: a reluctant challenge to Amanda Marcotte: UPDATED

UPDATED: Both Amanda and Seal Press have issued clear and heartfelt apologies for the images that appeared in It’s a Jungle Out There. The images will not appear in the second edition of the book. I honor the swift and unequivocal response from both Amanda and her publisher, and in light of this necessary and rapid apology, give the book my continued and wholehearted endorsement. I appreciate in particular that Amanda and Seal both take full responsibility for the very unfortunate decision to allow these images into the book, and am particularly heartened that the publishers acknowledge that Amanda herself was in no way involved in the editorial choice to place these comics in the text.

UPDATE TWO: I was wrong. Again. The endorsement of the text stands, but as long as the words on the page are presented next to racist images, I cannot recommend buying or using this book. I enthusiastically support a new edition of the book. Though the apology by Amanda was eloquent, concise, and sincere, it is only a first step to action. And the immediate action that must be taken, and is being taken, is the production of a new edition without these images. In whatever way my endorsement counts, please understand that it is only for that new edition. I do not suggest buying currently available copies from Amazon or another source until that second printing becomes available.

The original post remains:

I’ve got Lucy Kaplansky playing on my Itunes. She’s one of the artists I play when I need calming down.

This is a hard post to write. I’ve been in the forefront of those defending Amanda Marcotte against charges of appropriation and racial insensitivity. One month ago today, I wrote an enthusiastic review of her new book It’s a Jungle Out There: The Feminist Survival Guide to Politically Inhospitable Environments. I stand by the content of the review, which was based entirely on the words contained within the short, readable, accessible and often captivating text. But what I didn’t review, or even analyze in private, were the illustrations from the book.

It’s a Jungle Out There chooses, not surprisingly, a jungle theme for its imagery. Using pictures from the Marvel Comic series “Lorna the Jungle Girl”, the front cover is complemented by perhaps ten illustrations inside the book. Some of them are reproduced here. Marcotte’s theme is that feminists face a misogynist jungle; her blonde Lorna seems — and I say seems, because I don’t know what Amanda’s exact intent was — to be doing battle against those forces. On the cover, Lorna is about to spear a crocodile. But inside, Lorna does battle with dark-skinned natives. In the worst of these, Lorna delivers a mighty kick to a man with black skin and a traditional mask; she does so to rescue an apparently captive white man. Read Ilyka’s post for more.

When this discussion first came up yesterday at Feministe, my first response was to say that the images were surely intended ironically. But upon reflection, and after reading the many responses in that thread, I reconsidered. I don’t question Amanda’s intentions, or those of Seal Press. I don’t for one second believe that Amanda that anyone involved with producing the book made a consciously racist decision. But racism has damn all to do with intention, and a great deal more to do with perception. And it’s hard, very hard, to see these images as anything other than horribly racist. Given the desire to have this book appeal to the widest possible audience, I can’t for the life of me figure out how the potential interpretation of these comic drawings wasn’t taken into account. Continue reading ‘On Lorna the Jungle Girl and the dark-skinned natives: a reluctant challenge to Amanda Marcotte: UPDATED’

Not just a professor, but a mentor: on hiring a new African-Americanist

As most readers will know, the feminist blogosphere continues to go through an unusually painful period of discussion and debate about race, sex, and intersectionality. And while it really isn’t all about me, I find it, if not ironic, oddly serendipitous that this semester finds me on a hiring committee to select a new African-American specialist for a tenure-track position. The first round of interviews unfold this afternoon and tomorrow.

Confidentiality protocol bars me from disclosing too much about the hiring process, but I can share what has already been made public. After more than two decades, my colleague Pete Mhunzi, who taught both African and African-American history, is retiring. In this depressed budget climate, we had to fight tooth and nail to get a replacement position approved; some in the administration wanted to fill the Africanist position with a series of adjuncts.

At the beginning of the year, we sent out the standard notice for a new tenure-track hire. Because we are a community college, we need someone capable of handling several different intro courses: African-American history; the History of Ancient, Early Modern, and Modern Africa; modern U.S. Survey. We received a number of excellent applications, and starting at noon today, we’ll meet the most promising candidates, the one who survived the “paper screen” process.

When we were first writing the hiring proposal last year, there was some debate amongst the members of the committee about non-academic qualifications. We have only one professor who teaches African and African-American studies; the retiring holder of that position served not only as a classroom professor but also as a mentor to black students on campus, advising the BSA and so forth. Though just three decades ago, the campus was nearly 25% black, today the percentage of African-American students has plummeted to the mid-single digits. Some of that is due to the changing demographic of the San Gabriel Valley and of Southern California in general, some of that is due, frankly, to a decline in the number of African-American high school graduates who are attending any kind of college.

As far as I — and the other members of our committee — were concerned, it’s vital that the new faculty member we choose be committed not only to mentoring all students, but have a particular interest in working with young African-American men and women. Of course, this doesn’t mean we asked for or are demanding that the person we hire be themselves black. (Even with tenure, if I, as a member of a sitting hiring committee, announced on a public blog that race was a qualifying factor, I’d be in a massive heap of trouble. Heck, I might not be allowed to serve on a committtee again. Wait a minute… naw, bad idea.) Continue reading ‘Not just a professor, but a mentor: on hiring a new African-Americanist’

Thursday Short Poem: Kenyon’s “Otherwise”

Few poets wrote as eloquently about the approach of death as Jane Kenyon; I’ve had one of hers up before; I posted it during the period when my father was in hospice care, and we were walking with him towards death.

In my women’s history class on Tuesday, I gave a ringing lecture on birth control and the importance of bodily autonomy. But in the end, if we’re lucky to live long, we lose that precious mastery of our own flesh. As strong as we are now, it will, in the end, always be otherwise.

Otherwise

I got out of bed
on two strong legs.
It might have been
otherwise. I ate
cereal, sweet
milk, ripe, flawless
peach. It might
have been otherwise.
I took the dog uphill
to the birch wood.
All morning I did
the work I love.

At noon I lay down
with my mate. It might
have been otherwise.
We ate dinner together
at a table with silver
candlesticks. It might
have been otherwise.
I slept in a bed
in a room with paintings
on the walls, and
planned another day
just like this day.
But one day, I know,
it will be otherwise.

Copping to what needs to change

Too much of my writing tends towards the self-congratulatory and the pompous. I’ve had that pointed out to me since I started blogging, and I’ve seen it as inextricably linked with my basic style. But more and more, I find myself bothered by some of my stylistic choices, if only because at worst, these choices tend to reinforce an image of entitled cluelessness.

Anna called me out on that in this thread on Ilyka’s blog, and I’m holding myself accountable for making some substantive changes. It won’t be immediate and it won’t be easy, but I’m committed to doing it.

No more dismissive language like calling a serious and painful discussion a “kerfuffle”. A limit on how often I use “folks” to refer to disparate groups. And an effort to be a little less like the image on the top of this page.