The Glee Photoshoot

I've got to say, I'm not really a fan of it.  Like most of that photographer's work, it looks pretty tacky to me. I'm not terribly offended by it, though.  I get why it's problematic, I get why it does offend some people, but...  the only thing about it that really bothers me is that it looks cheap and trashy.

I do think that it was a bad decision to dress the women--and at 24, they are women, not girls-- in school girl outfits.  They obviously don't look like they're still highschool aged, but there is the problem of sexualizing youth, and putting the image of schools as sexy out there.  Yes, teens are often sexual, and the women do play sexual teens on Glee (hell, Quinn gave BIRTH.  That's about as sexual as it gets!), but they are not actually their characters.  The photoshoot isn't a couple of schoolgirls posing in lingerie-- it's a couple of adults posing in lingerie that is vaguely reminiscent of schoolgirl stereotypes, posed in a school setting.

Ok, so it is a little creepy.  But it isn't creepy because of Dianna Agron and Lea Michele.  24 year old women posing sexually for money isn't creepy-- and it wouldn't be creepy if they were stripping or having sex for money either, although it would be a questionable career move-- but dressing adults up as kids so that you can get a sexy teen photoshoot?  Well, that is creepy.  But... I don't really think anyone is supposed to be fooled into thinking they are teens-- the school theme is just because of the characters they play.  Still, it wouldn't have been hard-- and would have been much more interesting-- to do a photoshoot that wasn't a direct reference to the show and their characters, or that allowed them to be sexual in classier way.  Afterall, the shoot was for GQ, not Maxim.

The irrelevance of Gawker's attempt to shame Christine O'Donnell

I get that hypocrisy in our elected officials is an important thing to take note of, and I'm all for calling people out on it, but... Gawker's little "expose" on Christine O'Donnell did not do that.  True, she's totally a joke of a politician, and we know that she had sex back in college, so her current anti-pre-marital sex attitude seems a little do as a say not as I did-- the exact kind of attitude that gets parents to lose their children's respect-- but Gawker's piece is just-- not serving any real and legitimate purpose.

The piece says its about a one-night-stand, but all the details it actually gives are that he managed to get her clothing off, they didn't have sex, and she was aggressive about pursuing some kisses earlier in the evening.  Oh, and that she was utterly WASTED.  She made it clear she wasn't going to have sex.  That checks with her political positions, so that doesn't fall into the realm of important hypocrisy.  She wanted to do some making our and kissing.  Ok, but has she said that kissing isn't ok?  If she has-- which, ok, wouldn't shock me-- it isn't something I've heard about.  So again, not seeing hypocrisy.  Her clothes came off-- ok, I can see why that's problematic with the family values set-- but there is absolutely no reason to detail the state of her pubic hair.  That's utterly irrelevant, and exists only as a salacious detail-- plus, who really cares what her pubic hair is like?  Are they really trying to shame someone for not waxing?  I've been in women's locker rooms, and I can tell you that, while widespread, being hairless isn't as universal as some people make it out to be.  Also, theres' a curious lack of detail regarding how the underwear got off of the utterly wasted woman-- did she take it off?  Did he?   I'd honestly be curious to see what her recollection of the night was, especially since the anonymous author does represent her as being drunker than he, and since once they were in bed, his early and repeated descriptions of her as aggressive ended.

So, what's the take away?  She was aggressive about making out, but adamant about not having sex and seemed sexually inexperienced.  I don't see how this is an important expose on hypocrisy.  All I see is an attempt to embarrass her.  Quite frankly, her politics do a good enough job of that on their own-- and this just makes me think poorly of Gawker, for trying to use previous legal drunken sexual actions to shame her.

Bi-visibility

In most conversation I have with people regarding sexuality and orientation, it usually seems that we talk about people who are straight or gay, rather than bi or the even broader label of queer-- and in my personal life, I know far, far, far more straight or gay people than I do bi people.  I can think of... three bi women that I know in real life, and only one of them is out as bi-- and she's poly and in an open relationship.  So it's sort  f surprising to me-- and awesome-- that there's been some bi visibility on tv lately!  I don't watch a lot of tv, it's true, but in two of the... three, if you count Jeopardy... shows I regularly watch, there have recently been bi characters.

How I Met Your Mother is definitely one of my favorite shows.  The characters aren't perfect, but they're so fun-- and Barney, the consummate playboy, reminds me a lot of one of my real life friends.  But even though all the main characters exclusively date people of the opposite sex, one of Ted's exes was recently shown getting married to a woman!  Without discounting her previous interest in Ted!  Meaning, she's bi!  And it's treated as no big deal among the rest of the characters!  To me, this is awesome-- but then, Lily occasionally alludes to sexual fantasies involving Robin, Robin briefly had a sexual fantasy involving... herself, and Barney and Marshall briefly fought over which of them Ted would be most likely to have a crush on when they thought Ted was interested in men.  So, there has been some nonchalance about sexuality in past episodes, but Rachel Bilson's character is the first to actually get involved with both men and women!  Go HIMYM!

Also doing good things in bi-visibility is Glee, with the darling Brittany and less darling Santana.  Both date boys, and yet also make out with each other and even SCISSOR!  Brittany loves Santana, but Santana just likes sex with anything or anyone hot!  And they're main characters!  And the rest of the main cast doesn't care!  Sure, their sexuality had been alluded to in the past, and they've used the idea of girl on girl action in seducing guys before, but of the the recent episodes showed them in bed together, making out for their own pleasure, no guys involved.  And acted like it was normal!  And they get to be real characters with both good points and bad-- well, they're still caricatures, as are all the cast members of Glee, but they're just as real and developed as the other kids are!

So, I've got to say, I'm pretty pleased with that, because I feel like anything outside of pure straightness gets ignored by a lot of society, and anything outside of pure straight or pure gayness gets ignored even more.  So yay for Glee and How I Met Your Mother.  Yay for treating bi people as completely normal.  And keep it up-- we need more of this in the world, because no matter what people are into, as long as it doesn't harm others, it's ok.

Birthcontrol

Planned Parenthood has a petition out right now to encourage congress to add free birth control to the new healthcare reform.  The text of the position is simply

"I support making prescription birth control available at no cost. The new health care reform law should make prescription birth control available to every woman without co-pays or other out-of-pocket costs to ensure that every woman has access to the birth control that works best for her. This will reduce the number of unintended pregnancies and help keep women and children healthy."

Let's be honest, here.  No matter how many signatures this petition gets, I highly doubt that it will succeed.  So why do I think it matters, and why do I think it's important to sign it?  Because even if it does not pass-- the fact that individuals put down their addresses means their representatives will see that people do care about birth control.  And birth control is important.  It keeps women from getting pregnant, it regulates periods, and helps treat serious illnesses like endometriosis.  Even when women can't control their sex lives, if they could afford birth control, they can have a say in controlling their reproduction-- condoms take the cooperation of both partners, but a woman who can obtain birth control can take it without telling her partner.  This can be especially important for young women who still live with their parents, women who have abusive partners, or women who simply do not trust condoms.

As someone who is currently unemployed and who uses birth control, I've got to say I am a big fan of it being affordable.  I've been on it since I was 18, well before I ever had sex, and it does amazing things for my productivity during the week before my period.  I always took it for granted, because when I was in school, the copay was amazingly low-- and now it's gone higher, but it's still something I'm not willing to live without.  It-- and healthcare in general-- are free in many other countries of similar status to the US.  Having free birthcontrol won't turn us into a nation of Godless heathens who sleep with everything in site, but it will reduce the number of abortions and unwanted pregnancies.  And I think most people can agree that those are good things-- both for the women and for society at large.

Full Frontal Feminism

I'm currently wondering what the ideal way to introduce a young woman to feminism is.

The first book of my quest to read a bunch of feminist texts was Jessica Valenti's Full Frontal Feminism.  Ostensibly, it's an intro guide to a feminism for young women-- highschool aged is my guess.  I wouldn't give it to a girl that age, though-- especially if she isn't already inclined towards feminism.  There is a lot of worthwhile information in the book, but I'm not a fan of the way it's framed-- a ton of swearing, and jabs at Republicans and religion.  I'm certainly not opposed to swearing-- I um, swear rather a lot-- but in something like this, an at least mildly academic introduction to a serious and important topic, it doesn't hurt to sound a little more serious.  It's serious stuff!  And, contrary to what some people might think about accessibility, if you're a young, confused, slightly uptight young woman, a bunch of swearing isn't terribly likely to speak to you.  It sure wouldn't have got through to me or my friends back in highschool.

And speaking of getting through to people?  I'm glad that Valenti noted that Republicans and conservatives aren't automatically bad people-- sure, some are, but a lot are just people with very different viewpoints who are also trying to do what they think is right.  Still-- she makes a lot of jabs at Republicans and religion, and i can't imagine that sitting too well with someone who was raised by religious or Republican parents that they love.  Though JD is liberal like me, when we met he was registered as a Republican, and one of our close friends here in Boston is also a Republican-- and you know what?  They're both genuinely good people who I (fairly clearly) respect!  Talking about the politics of the Republican party is one thing-- but the generalities there are my idea of wrong.

i also got annoyed at a little bit of hypocrisy there.  As I've said before, i don't think that being a feminist means you don't get to wear make up, enjoy all sorts of sex or enjoy not having sex, love your shoe collection-- or change you name when you get married.   Feminism doesn't demand that every choice and action we make be determined solely by our politics.  Valenti totally agrees on the makeup front-- after all, she wears it too!-- but she argues against changing your name at marriage.  I get that makeup and names are different thing, but I still think it's a bit hypocritical to say one is aok and the other is not.

All this said-- I'm a huge fan of her blogging, and her blog.  It's just that I'd rather direct them to Feministing than to Full Frontal Feminism.  Feministing isn't an intro though-- so what IS a good intro?

Numbers

I have a formspring account.  I got it back when they were all the rage with the cool bloggers, and it languished for awhile, without people asking questions.  A bit ago, I finally got one! But... it wasn't exactly the sort of thought provoking conversation starter I'd been hoping for.  Instead, it was "how many men/women have you fucked?".
What I'm curious about is, in what will would that information actually further understanding of my writing-- or anyone's, for that matter.  In what way is knowing the number of people someone has slept with relevant?  I mean, I guess if I've slept with women, that could be relevant, because queer individuals often have different experiences than straight ones.  And I guess the experiences of a virgin vs. a woman who has slept with a ton of partners can also be relevant in a blog that talks about sexuality.  But as things stand-- it's pretty obvious that I'm not a virgin, and that I'm partnered to a man in a monogamous relationship.  So whether or not he's the first or the 100th person I've slept with seems... rather irrelevant.  One of the things I do here, as I mentioned before, is try to talk about sex without dwelling on my own sexuality.  I'm just one data point in a sea of people, so i try to think about the more interesting and unusual stories of friends, and the trends I've seen in people my age compared to what the media seems to think we all do.  But me, personally?  I'm kind of boring, people.  I'm monogamous and engaged.

So, the question remains-- why do some people think numbers matter, and that knowing how many people someone has sex with will give them insight into his or her mind?  the truth is, it just doesn't matter.  Knowing someone's number really tells you nothing about them-- a virgin can think of herself as pure, or just be someone who hasn't been in an environment conducive to finding a lot of compatible sex partners.  Someone promiscuous can be having sex because they enjoy it, or they might secretly hate themself and feel like they are sinning.  There's no way of knowing what someone thinks just from knowing their number, and someone's views on sex and sexuality equally do not predict the number of sex partners they've had.

The very idea that a number is relevant seems to stem from a rather old-fashioned view of sex-- the idea that good girls don't put out-- or from the idea that people will always defend their experiences, regardless of what they are.  The falsity of that can be seen easily, though; while some people who were promiscuous in their youth grew to be sex-positive educators-- like Susie Bright-- the opposite can be seen in Christine O'Donnell, who has a well known anti-masturbation and promiscuity stance, but has also said in interviews that she did have a lot of sex in her youth.  For all we know, the two might have had similar numbers of sex partners, but they have vastly different views on sex and sexuality.  The numbers just don't matter.  Like anything else someone has done, people will use a person's numbers and twist them into being an explanation for nearly any attitude.

How much does text play into your life?

I'm very much a feminist, but I haven't read a lot of feminist writing.  In fact, I've read almost none-- and most of what I have read is fiction, rather than theory.  One of the things I'm planning to do in the next couple weeks, in addition to job searching and wedding planning, neither of which are exactly my idea of fun, is to go read some of the actual text that's been published on feminism and gender studies.  Here at home I have the new translation of The Second Sex, a copy of The Feminine Mystique, and a very short book by Andrea Dworkin (which, based on the quotes of hers that I've read before, is probably all I can take of her in one dose).  I've got a couple of Jessica Valenti's books on order from the library, as well as Butler's Gender Troubles.  To even things out a bit, I'm even thinking of getting some books on gender studies from a male point of view-- Lionel Tiger style, or Warren Farrel, or someone else who I'm highly likely to disagree with-- but as with Twilight, I'll do them the justice of  reading their material so I can back my distaste up.   I think it's a pretty good starting base, but I'm very open to other suggestions as well.

One of the things I'm wondering is how much reading most people do on things they strongly believe in-- whether it's feminism, or religion, or a lifestyle path-- and how much of our decisions and opinions we come to on our own.  For me, my mindset is mostly a product of experience and observation, with some internet reading thrown in once I hit college.  In high school, I was a feminist, though I didn't really know what the term meant, and I certainly didn't realize that there were people out there who might disagree with me.  My parents were super egalitarian in the way they raised my brother and I, and I was always the smartest kid around.  I didn't watch TV, and I played super heroes with my guy neighbors, and went to ballet lessons. It wasn't until I got older and started paying more attention to the rest of the world that it hit me that something was off.

It started in highschool I guess-- but there, it started with religion, not feminism.  One of the ministers at my church had been caught in an affair with a married member of the congregation when I was in 8th grade.  I refused to attend church-- suddenly the authority I'd placed in ministers and religion had been smashed.  I read the entire Bible from start to finish my freshman year of highschool and concluded that I was totally cool with God and Jesus, even if humans sometimes messed up in pretty awful ways.

My embrace of feminism didn't start until sometime in college though, because I still was naive and insulated somewhat from sexism as sexism-- but I discovered it in college.  I still hadn't read anything at all that could be classed as feminist discourse, though-- I had to formulate my thoughts on my own, and came to decisions that, for the most part, I still hold to.  When I joined a sorority, when one of my roommates became a sugar baby, when I went to frat parties-- I hadn't read any of the things out there that talked about the implications of any of it.  And as a result, I made the decisions that made me-- and though my sorority may not have labelled itself as feminist, it was the first truly feminist group I ever became a part of.

I came to feminism and to identifying as a feminist, even with the negative stigma from the unrealistic stereotype, without ever reading any major feminist texts.  I came to feminism without even reading any of the major online blogs!  And yet, my take on feminism seems to be fairly consistent with the modern view-- that agency, autonomy, and choice in lifestyle and actions matter, that equality is what is important, and that women-- our bodies, our health, our decisions, our opinions-- are not disposable.  And yet, I still feel like I ought to read older texts, and any new ones that have prominence, whether I'll agree with them or not-- because I feel like I ought to know where feminism came from, and what ideological changes have occurred along the way.  It's funny, because I've never really been tempted to read any theological books-- I'm fully satisfied with my take on Christianity being based on my understanding of the Bible and discussions with ministers-- but for feminism, I want to read the ideological texts.  I want to know what other people are saying, what they think, and why they think it.

On tradition

Tradition!  Tradition!

When you are planning a wedding people really like to talk about tradition.  A lot.  And at length.

Tradition and I are on shaky grounds right now.  See, I like tradition in some aspects.  Having fillet mignon for breakfast Christmas morning directly after opening presents, with some nice music in the background?  That's a tradition I like.  It's something I've done every Christmas I've spent at my parents' house, and it's significant to me because it's tied up with my childhood memories.  It's a continuation and reminder of my childhood in many ways.  I also love some of the tradition you get in a sorority-- the outfits we'd wear to initiation, the ritual you know every other chapter also follows, and has been following for decades-- that's pretty awesome, and it's a way of having continuity throughout the group, and something that will link and bind different chapters of women who have never met together.

But wedding traditions?  Well...  they really don't have that much significance to me, and in a lot of cases, I just plain don't like them.

Let me be clear:  I think doing something, solely because it is tradition, is stupid.  I think NOT doing something, solely because it is tradition, is ALSO stupid.  The fact that something is or is not traditional is not what makes me like it or hate it-- but I feel a bit that when I reject things that are "traditional" as if I might be disappointing people-- yet if I do them, I'll be disappointing myself, and tainting the wedding in my mind.

It's very rough for me, as much as I like to please other people, to try to be true to myself and JD here and not just give in and having a wedding that I will hate that will make me sad.  But I just can't.  I can't start out marriage off with something that feels alien to me, something that makes me feel uncomfortable.

So in a lot of cases?  I'm rejecting tradition.  Not because it is tradition-- but because I don't like the connotations of it, or the origin of it, or even the aesthetic of it.

I will, for example, not be wearing a veil.  I don't like the aesthetic of the veil, and I don't like the ideas behind it-- hiding my blushing pure face from people?  Please.  I want to get married with my eyes wide open, staring at JD as we affirm our love and commitment.  I don't want anything to get in the way.  I also don't want to be walked down the aisle by my father.  This is the one I feel the most guilty about, but the connotations of it just deeply disturb me.  It feels like a transfer of property-- like I belong to my father, and then am given to my husband.  Like I am not making my own choice, like I am not a person with agency.  The fact that it is one man, and then i am transferred to another man just bothers me, even though my father is wonderful.  What I would like to do is actually borrow from another tradition.  In many Jewish weddings, the groom is escorted down the aisle by his parents, and the bride is escorted down the aisle by hers.  I like the symbolism and imagery of that-- both of us are leaving our family, both of us are equal, and there isn't the same connotation of woman as property, since we would both be shown to be parting from our parents.  I also like that it incorproates both of my parents, because they're both absolutely wonderful people who, I think, did a great job of raising me.

I'm not parting from all tradition-- I'm planning to wear a white(ish?) dress, and I will incorporate something old, new, borrowed, and blue-- largely because incorporating something blue gives me an excuse to paint my nails a fierce blue :-)  (and yes, I know the something blue is usually lingerie, but nail polish is So. Fun.)  I'll admit, the connotations of a white dress-- with purity and innocence and all that-- do bother me.  But here, I guess my vanity is winning out over my principles-- because I look AMAZING in my wedding dress.  It also isn't technically white-- it's ivory-- which makes me feel at least a touch better.

It's just hard, in thinking about all this, to balance my principles and the expectations of others.  I'm not doing traditional things for tradition's sake-- but the times when I refuse to do traditional things, it isn't simply because I'm trying to flaunt tradition.

We want our wedding to reflect us.  To be purely JD and Amanda.  And if we stick to pure tradition, well-- we'd just be playing roles, instead of being ourselves.

I said "Yes" to a dress

JD and I spent the past ten days visiting his family in Oklahoma, and as part of our trip, his mother took the two of us to Dallas so that she and I could look at wedding dresses there.  I had already looked some in Ohio, and had found one I liked... then looked a bit more in Oklahoma and found a few other good ones.  But in Dallas...

Well, I found the perfect dress, and surprisingly enough, it doesn't have a lot of what I initially wanted.  It doesn't have straps, it isn't a v-neck, it has a high waist instead of a drop waist, and it isn't the material I had in mind, or even quite as creamy colored as I wanted, being much closer to a true white.

But when I tried it on... people, I can TWIRL in this dress.  I look like I stepped out of Swan Lake or something.  I AM AN ETHEREAL FAIRY PRINCESS!  Which is, you know, hard when you're taller than the height of the average American man.  The hilarious part is that one of the dresses I tried on was everything I said I wanted coming in.  It was the perfect dress that I'd built up in my head.  But... it just wasn't perfect.
And the dress I'm going to wear... oh, it is.

We've now accomplished a total of one step on our giant wedding checklist, but hey!  They say starting is the hardest part.  And now I just have to momentum it all forward!

Angry Feminist Rant. Probably Slightly Incoherent.

Questions people often ask feminists online:

Why would you choose to align yourself with a group with such negative connotations?

If you really believe in equality, shouldn't you call yourself an equalist or a humanist, not a feminist?



You know what?  As novel as my understanding of feminism may seem to some people, I didn't blindly come up with it and pull it from whole cloth.  Nope.  I'm a creative person, but I'm not THAT creative.  Instead, I looked around at the prevailing use and definition of the word feminism in feminist circles.  Because really, who are you going to believe-- haters or people who have never bothered to read up on the topic, or people that are immersed in the topic, and have an understanding of the topic, and are part of the community?  It's like when non-Christians try to tell me I'm not Christian because I don't go to church every Sunday, or believe every tenant of whatever Christian denomination they're most familiar with.

And like Christianity-- or any religion, or any political movement, or any other thing someone can self-identify as, there's a lot of wiggle room inside one broad definition.  There are some crazy feminists out there!  I don't know any feminist who denies that!  But there are crazies in Every. Single. Movement.  Modern feminism-- the feminism of women in my age group, the feminism of third wavers, the feminism that is what most people on the internets are talking about when they talk about feminism-- it bears very little relation to radical feminism or the feminism of Andrea Dworkin and Catherine MacKinnon.  Sure, there are still radical feminists out there!  And there are enough of them that if all you want to find are radfem blogs, you could probably do that!  But that is not what the MAJORITY of the modern feminist movement is.  It's incredibly stupid to disavow an entire movement because of radicals who share the label.  You don't throw the movement away-- you get active IN it, and do something!  Granted, most of what I do is just blogging and talking to friends and leaving comments on the blogs of people who drastically disagree with me, but I want to do more, and I want to hold on to feminism, because I believe in it.  I believe that women are every bit as valuable and capable and worth respect as men are.  I believe that who you are should matter more than the genitalia you bear.

As to the name?  Well, the movement is about equality, yes, but with a focus on women, and on advancing women to be equal with men-- as well as on changing some things that do go beyond pure equality.  The equality feminism wants isn't to make men's situations worse to match women, but to make women's better to match men.  But it's true-- while equality is the core, much modern feminism goes beyond that, and looks to ways to better life all around.  Extending paternity and maternity leave, for example, are feminist goals-- yet this goal isn't just pushing for equality, but to expand the status quo into a better situation for both genders.

I think it's kind of awesome, actually, that feminism wants to make things better for everyone, and I have no shame in belonging to a group that prioritizes women.  Every group must have some kind of focus, or nothing will get accomplished.  Feminism is ultimately, fundamentally about women's rights.  By the definition of feminism, things that fight for women's rights are feminist, even if they also fight for other things!  And you know what?  Something having equality at it's core doesn't preclude it from saying "Hey!  Situation X is bad ALL AROUND, let's fix it!" or "Situation Y affects women only, but let's fix it!". (What, you might be wondering could possibly affect only women*?  How about breastfeeding.  Or menstruation.  Or policies surrounding childbirth.  Parenting sure as hell is a men's issue as well as a women's issue, but the choice between a diva cup or tampon or pad and dealing with it when you get one break every X number of hours but have a very heavy flow is an issue most men don't face.

Feminism is still needed.  We've come a long, long way from when my mother first started teaching and was required to wear skirts, and a longer way from when my grandmother was a girl.  Married women and women with children are allowed to hold down jobs.  The wage gap has gotten a lot smaller and isn't as simple as a company literally setting different pay scales for men and women.  It's illegal for a man to rape his wife.  But really.  We've still got a long, long, long way to go.  And I think feminism is necessary to get us there.

Quite simply-- I'm proud that I'm a feminist.

* (ok, this is being very cis-centric, and I realize these issues may also affect transmen, but please stay with me.)

Sex Offenders in Church

Apparently there's been some discussion on whether or not sex offenders should be allowed free access to churches, rating an article in Time, and even discussion in court cases-- but I heard about it in an article at Jezebel.

My reaction to this is basically to wonder how there is even a question here.  Yes, I'm very much against sexual assault, and don't think someone who assaults someone else should just be able to go back to their life as if nothing happened-- but not all sex offenses are actually harmful (public urination, statutory rape committed by a teen to hir close-in-age significant other), and I believe in a deterrence and rehabilitation model of justice, rather than a retributive one.

As both a Christian and a feminist, the double bias is going to show.  But I believe that churches should not only be for those upright citizens who are paragons of virtue.  You shouldn't have to be as "good" of a person as the minister to take part in worship, and you certainly don't have to be blameless to ask God to "lead you not into temptation".   Granted, a large part of church is the community, and adults do have a lot of interaction with children in a church setting-- but unless that adult is a youth group leader or Sunday school teacher, chances are they don't have much one-on-one time with kids.

Note, I also do not think that sex offenders should be ministers (exception-- teenage mutually consenting statutory rape and teenage/college public urination type activities, as long as, you know, that sort of disregard for public spaces didn't stay with them as an adult.).  Ministers should be devoted to living a Godly life in a way that really can't be expected of ordinary people-- that's why it's a calling, instead of just a profession.  That's why they're ministers, instead of parishioners.

But, a regular member of the congregation?  Someone who comes to church to worship in community and who tries to better hirself?  Well, I totally and completely think that sex offenders ought to be allowed to do that, if they're out of jail and living in general society.  And I think that disallowing them, even out of concern for children, is rather unChristian.  Jesus wouldn't shun someone for the crimes ze's committed, and leading people out of lives of sin is supposed to be one of the main functions of churches.

Ugh.  This ties into my problem in general with many modern churches-- the expectation that everyone coming is there to celebrate their own comparatively sinful lives, rather than to unite as sinners who are trying to be good to others and help lift others up.  Part of being Christian is extending love and help to the unloveable, after all.

The Handmaid's Tale: The Fragility of Equality

This is a guest post by JD, my fiance.  He graduated law school in May, and like me, is currently looking for work.  He has previously written a published legal article, and is a part author of a chapter of one of the authoritative texts on federal civil procedure. .  He is one of the most insightful and wonderful people I know.

I picked up a new novel last night with the idea of reading for an hour or so before bed. At around 4am, I finally put down The Handmaids Tale by Margaret Atwood after absorbing its startling epilogue. Atwood spins her dystopian fiction as a disjointed narrative that approaches stream of consciousness, a style that seems to mirror the mind of the novel’s protagonist. Attempting to summarize the plot would not do the book justice, but suffice to say I couldn’t put it down and it gripped me with an odd emotion I don’t normally get when reading: fear.

Fear isn’t actually a response I encounter often when reading dystopian literature. Classics such as 1984 I took in as warnings, with the knowledge that their goal was to teach us to be on our guard, to teach us that being aware of the possibility of such a future was a step in combating it. But 1984 didn’t leave me with a feeling of immediacy, a feeling that such a future could easily come to pass. Though it dealt with sex somewhat, and was partly about the freedom to love, 1984 did not have as its focus a theocratic dystopia based around the subjugation of women. Such a world is the focus of The Handmaids Tale.

Why does that particular structure frighten me more than the dystopia imagined by other authors? Why should I be any more disturbed by that than by Orwell’s emotionally repressed world? The answer is that it hits too close to home. At one point in the novel, the protagonist asks her “Commander”—one of the male leaders of the new theocracy—the all important question: why? His answer is multi-faceted, but mainly is concerned with giving men something to live for again. The rise of feminism and the status of women as equals removed men from their role as protectors, usurped their former place in the world. Rather than combat that emptiness with a new goal, they sought to return to the former status quo. There is no adaptation here, but rather true conservatism on the part of the men; a refusal to adapt to changes in the world and in society. Part of the “Commander’s” defense is that they were merely returning to the way it always had been, that feminism was the anomaly and merely a blink in the course of history.

Those words fill me with fear because in a way they are true. The equality of women is a recent accomplishment, and in a non-legal sense there are still many battles to be fought. The 19^th amendment, granting women’s suffrage in the U.S., was not ratified until 1920—less than 100 years ago. What women have fought so hard for is truly a recent attainment, and parallels the civil rights movement in that regard. The Handmaid’s Tale is frightening because it contemplates a step back and an unraveling of all that has been achieved and that has helped make women more than brood mares and domestic slaves.

               

Even more frightening is that there are those out there who still argue that women belong in a situation like that portrayed in The Handmaids Tale: they are lesser, they exist only for breeding, they shouldn’t be educated. The source of those views is irrelevant, they could be biblically justified, as those in The Handmaid’s Tale were, or they could be the result of individual hatred and stem from individuals who went through bad divorces or have grown to hate all women because of some unfortunate personal experience. Regardless of their origin, people who would embrace the world of The Handmaid’s Tale exist.  They exist, and they must be fought. The battle is not over, and The Handmaid’s Tale shows us a world that might be if those who still believe that women should not have the same rights as men succeed.  In that way it is more than a parable and is to some extent, a call to arms. We cannot take for granted the equality of the sexes; we must remember the struggle it took to get here, and we must continue that struggle against everyone who would try to take that equality away. Regardless of who uttered these words originally, they remain true: the price of freedom is eternal vigilance.

Usually, the search terms that get people to my site are random phrases, about sex, love, love letters, porn, law, or random phrases I've used.  Today, I got one that used a real question.  So.

Dear Chicago, Illinois reader,

Yes, women CAN masturbate while on medication.

Love,
Amanda


Tomorrow is the second half of the bar exam.  I expect to be too busy partying/moving to write until around the fifth, but then expect a flood of more posts while we look for an apartment for next year, plan our wedding, and look for jobs.

Talking About Sex Without Talking About Myself.

One of the main topics of this blog is, clearly, sexuality.  I think that sexuality is something people need to discuss more often and in more detail.  I think our society focusses too much on overt depictions of sexiness and not enough on people actually examining their own desires.  I think we are, strangely, overexposed to images of sex, and underexposed to discussion about sex.  Talking about how much sex kids are having, or different sex posititions, or how many partners you've had doesn't really get into the issues of what sex is and means and can be-- it's all just skimming the surface of an issue that is central to most people's lives, but unexamined.

And one of the problems I have is that when I write, I want to be candid about my own experiences and desires, so that people can know my bias-- know where I come from and know how I've expereinced things, because I do think that an author's expereinces are relevant to his or her writing.  I want to be as fun and candid as Mary Roach is in Bonk-- but I just can't bring myself to be a "sex blogger" instead of a "sexuality blogger".

Part of it is my own personal sense of privacy-- I don't really want my parents or employers reading about my sex life.  It's strangely hypocritical in a way, because I think those sorts of things shouldn't matter to people, and because I think people should be open-- but my ideals are ideals, and the society I live in doesn't always mesh with them well.  It's enough to have people judge me on my political opinions;  I don't need them to think about what I do or do not do in the bedroom.

A second reason is that it's not just about me-- its also about JD, and if I go into my history, any previous partners.  Even if JD doesn't care in general, there might be specific he'd care about-- or he might disagree with my characterizations of things.  Regardless, it's his life too, and he should get an equal say in what gets discussed.

Talking about sex without talking about myself is limiting.  It makes it harder to write about sexuality, but at the same time it forces me to go outside of my personal zone and consider a greater depth of experience.  I think that's a good thing, really-- it's challenging to me as a writer, and also challenging to me as a person.  I have to think about what I think society ought to accept, while disregarding my own personal limits-- something I think we should all do more often.

It does limit my posts though-- because I do want to talk about my own experiences, very much, but I feel that morally, I can't.  Not with my name attached, and not in a public forum where anyone I personally know can easily read my writing.  It's also egotistic, in a way-- why on earth would my sex life be important?  Isn't it enough that I know other people to whom things apply, without it applying to myself?  It should be-- it is-- but when writing, I'm driven to want to be more confessional than I let myself be.  In part, I think it comes from the modern confessional style of writing-  the New York Times modern love series, sex blogs, tell-alls, and reality tv (which sure, I don't watch, but I hear about it, and so it does affect me.

So, talking about sex without talking about myself.  It's hard, but ultimately, it's worth doing.  And I'm going to endeavor to keep it up.

On Dating Jerks

I am a woman who has dated jerks.  I've also dated guys so nice you might mistake them for a puppy dog, but this entry?  This is about the jerks*.

And in a way, it's a thank you to them.

Because I think everyone should, at some point in their life, date a guy or gal who is a huge jerk.

This is counter-intuitive.  Relationships are supposed to be good, to make you happy, to lift you up.  Yeah, that's what they're supposed to be, but anyone who has had multiple relationships often knows that that isn't always true-- and I think dating the jerks is a great learning tool.  True, you can end up in a great marriage with your first serious partner (as my mother did, when she married my dad), but I still think there is a huge benefit to dating a lot, and a lot of different types of people, in your youth.

But there is especially a benefit to dating jerks.

Jerks teach you what you aren't willing to take, and what you aren't willing to compromise on.  They teach you what issues you really care about, and sharpen your ability to argue and to stand up for yourself.  they teach you patience and tolerance, and make you realize how awesome your eventual awesome partner really is.  I would not, at this stage of life, want to date a jerk.  JD is a great guy, truly kind and wonderful, caring and giving, and most definitely not a jerk-- but I think our relationship is actually better because I've dated jerks in the past.

See, JD occasionally does things that make me roll my eyes-- and he isn't afraid to point out when I do things that are also eye roll worthy.  But we talk about those things, and really?  None of them are huge.  We haven't had any huge ideological clashes, and when we do disagree, we're both mature enough to talk it out and come to some sort of compromise.  I am a person who likes to make others happy, so bringing things up can be... well, difficult for me.  As can facing criticism.  But after the personal insults, cutting descriptions, and unreasonable behavior of jerks in the past?  Well, the thought of a small discussion is just not. that. scary. anymore-- really!  Because I dated jerks, I learned that there is nothing someone can do with words that should, or can, stop me from expressing myself.

I also learned through the jerks what sort of things I like... and don't like. See, all the jerks had some of the traits I liked!  Otherwise-- why would I have dated them?  But the also had a lot of traits that I didn't like.  Because I was an obsessive journaler up until, oh, after JD and I started dating, I managed to record a lot of self-analyzing thoughts on the good and bad points of relationships, and I've been able to learn from them and apply them to each successive relationship.  This is the sort of learning that should, ideally, work for most people-- even the non obsessive, non overly analytical-- because we do learn from our past and our mistakes.  I'm hesitant to call past relationships mistakes, because they have shaped who I am today-- but in some cases, staying in them as long as I did WAS a mistake.  But you know, that long lasting annoyance with flaws and characteristics really taught me a lot about my tolerance levels.

I think one of the best parts about dating jerks is that when you do find someone who fits with you just right, you think to yourself wow... so THIS is what this is supposed to be like! and you get to experience a relationship of mutual care, love, and understanding without taking it for granted.  Taking things for granted is, I think, one of the problems a lot of people have-- yes, your partner SHOULD be awesome to you, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't be glad that your partner IS awesome, and it doesn't mean you shouldn't appreciate them and show them that.  Memories of a jerk mean that you don't take that partner for granted.

In short:  They'll teach you what you'll like, what you'll tolerate, how to argue, and you'll appreciate a great partner when you find one.

So thanks, jerks that I've dated.  You've helped make me a better partner, and helped get me into a better relationship.  It probably wasn't your intent, but it sure is a nice side effect.

*This entry also, as JD mused, applies to bitches, if it is ladies that you're dating.