One of my friends sent this to me. I hear the message, but I don't know what to think yet.
Mayda Del Valle - To All The Boys I've Loved Before
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Saturday, October 27, 2007
calling all spammers
we're not interested in your phony biz deals, lame ecards, lottery notifications or penis enhancements. i will continue to delete your posts whenever i find them, so please move on to the next site. try posting your trash elsewhere!
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Completely Useless?
The other day, between classes, I told another teacher that I am planning on taking the annual Japanese Language Proficiency Test this December. Never you mind what level, especially when I tell you that the teacher I was talking to is taking the highest level of the test. Since Japanese is one of the hardest languages for native English speakers to learn (3 systems of writing plus grammar that is just about the inverse of what exists in English), the simple act of saying, "I am taking the 1-kyuu level exam" tends to have the effect of evoking a silent, reverent hush among the Westerners in the room. I nudged my piddly low level exam preparation book to the recesses of my purse, thoroughly shamed that I had even thought to tell her I was taking the exam. After all, she knows over 1000 Chinese symbols, multiple thousands of Japanese words and has mastered enough Japanese vocabulary and its twisted, devious grammar to read a newspaper. I wasn't worthy; I wasn't worthy ...
My coworker saw that I was impressed and immediately began to denigrate her skills. She was taking the 1-kyuu, sure, she said, but there was no way she'd pass. It took her 6 years, after all, to learn 1000 kanji* and now she had 2 months to learn 1000 more. "It is," she declared, "impossible."
*Chinese symbols used heavily in Japanese writing
"Oh, it can't be," I said. "You've already come so far. And how fantastic that you've learned so much Japanese in the first place!"
Here, my coworker grimaced. "It honestly isn't that great," she said. "As a matter of fact, I didn't recommend it, considering that learning Japanese is really sort of useless."*
"Useless!" I was flabbergasted. "What do you mean?"
(*Let me pause here to state that before she declared the study of Japanese "useless", my coworker told me she was having an "I hate Japan" day - very common for ex patriots. That said ... )
"It's useless," she continued, "because for the insane amount of work it takes for a native English speaker to even learn the language it just isn't worth it when you'll probably never have the opportunity to use it once you move back home."
My coworker had a point. Realistically speaking, how exactly is Japanese going to help either of us when we move away, beyond helping us speak to waiters at Japanese restaurants and impressing Japanese friends, or the random nihonjin we meet? Myself, I'll never have the sort of job where I have to deal with Japanese businessmen and I really don't foresee myself marrying into a Japanese family. So why even try to master Japanese grammar?
I started studying Japanese in the first place because I didn't want to be an ignorant Ugly American who stomped all over the culture and ran around further embarrassing her people by insisting on speaking English to shopkeepers. Furthermore, I hated depending on my Japanese-speaking friends (all men) to speak for me. Lastly, I love languages and especially love learning anything new. And I love learning new things because, ultimately, though I see her point, I am not like my coworker on her "I hate Japan!" day.
You see, I don't think there is such a thing as "useless knowledge."
"Random facts," "useless knowledge": these terms are popular in American culture. People who can quote scientific equations or name the number one hits of cultural icons from the 40s are sniggered at - until they win cool millions on Jeopardy, of course. Learning skills you don't actually use or being an Arts major in college is especially scoffed at. What will you ever do with a head full of theory? our parents, friends, and parents' friends complain. Computers; go into computers. Or business. Something you can touch. Double major - why?
I double majored in college - two majors that could only be considered "useless" - English and Paleoanthropology. Granted - the latter is hardly a "useless" field but if you aren't planning on entering it then the hours spent in the lab, the papers sweated over, the numerous primate taxa memorized do start to seem un-worth it. I double majored because I was fascinated in evolution, stones and bones - I needed to know more. I also wanted to study literature because I saw myself as a novelist, from the time I was small. I wasn't particularly interested in working for newspapers so English, rather than the rule-heavy Journalism, was really all that fit, even if it didn't necessarily translate itself to a sure-fire job once I graduated.
Five years later, I'm proud to report that I've been making a living ever since I graduated; first at TV Guide and then as an editor at a media research company that went from a start up in Chinatown to a swanky operation on Park Avenue. Today, I'm an English teacher living abroad and since I moved to Japan my creativity is higher than ever. No, I have never been required to discuss Shakespeare or Faulkner at my jobs but just because I am not required to discuss them doesn't mean I don't. I'm never far from someone who loves to read as much as I do and I've yet to find someone who is unimpressed by my knowledge of human and primate anatomy. I love the things I learned and even if I did feel disgruntled during the lean times when I was out of work nothing could ever take from me the ecstasy I felt each time I was inspired by Hemingway or examined the unmistakable evidence of the valgus knee in an archaic hominid.
Any fool will tell you that knowledge is power. Most of us will never have the opportunity to use what we learned in science camp to create a bomb out of chocolate and foil, but for those of us who live simple, quiet lives, our hard work is usually reward us through the sweet, random little life surprise.
Hands-down, my favorite thing about life is the sweet, random little surprises. Let me illustrate: at 15, you buy a blue T-shirt at Wet Seal with the image of a frizzy-haired woman you can't place so you ask your mom and discover that it's Gilda Radner, star of Saturday Night Live in the 70s. You develop an interest and research her career, discovering a genuine admiration for the woman's comedic gifts. At 20, you meet a woman in a coffee shop while wearing that old T-shirt who is so impressed she comments on it. She loves Gilda Radner, she gushes. Gilda was her favorite comedienne - ever. You chat it up and before you know it, you find a wonderful new friend who, actually, later introduces you to the man who will become your new boss at a time when you are desperate for work. Surprise!! Thank you, Gilda and Wet Seal.
All right, so maybe that's an extreme example but I'm sure the general pattern is familiar; or at least I hope it is because the random little surprise is such a sweet part of life. The random little surprise ... so very often brought about by a shared or obscure knowledge gleaned at some point when it seemed completely unimportant.
Here, some examples from my own life:
At 13, I decided to write a novel. It would be set in Germany and take place during World War II. My protagonist would be Jewish and, of course, she would be sent to Auschwitz*. I read everything I could find on the Holocaust, Judaism and even started trying to learn German.
*Please ignore the ludicrousness of this idea - I was 13, after all, and I had great ambition.
When I was 15, I realized how fabulously ridiculous and offensive my nearly-completed novel was. I was a 15 year old girl surrounded by Catholics and Protestants in a Florida town that had, perhaps, 5 Jewish families. I'd never starved, I knew nothing about life. How could I possibly write a novel about the Holocaust??? I set aside my hard work, burning with shame. Oh, the waste of all those hours in the library, fueled by creative passion and empathy.
Three years later, I became infatuated with a half-Jewish man who was living in Germany and obsessed with World War II. He laughed at what he called my "scheiss German" but was impressed with my other knowledge. Our relationship was poisonous and things ended badly, but nonetheless, my research at age 13 had not been in vain. I moved to New York at 18, where I was surrounded by Jewish people and got plenty of opportunity to expand my knowledge of their culture. Just the other day, I met a German tourist in Thailand who was impressed that I knew various cities in Germany - things learned from my time with the World War II nut.
In college, as I stated, I studied Paleoanthropology. It hasn't earned me a dime (... yet) but it has made impressed countless acquaintances and made me extremely aware of my anatomy. On a crowded train with no straps to grab, I tuck my knees in towards each other since I know that part of the reason H. sapiens can stand upright is because our femurs are slanted inwards (the valgus knee), which affects our center of gravity. As the train jostles, I give my center of gravity a little help. I never, ever fall.
At 6, I decided I was going to be an author and taught myself to type on the typewriter in my father's office. I soon discovered that I was extremely fast at it and after taking a typing course my Freshman year of high school, I could literally type over 100 words per minute with my eyes shut. At 27, I have no creative work published but since I was 20, I have run a transcription side business that brings in at least a couple of thousand extra dollars per year. No, I'm not an author ... but was learning how to type useless? I think not. And who knows ... I might write that novel yet.
No knowledge is useless; it only depends on how open you are to using it and how large you expect your reward to be. Sometimes we use it in a small way, sometimes we use it in a large way. Your mosaic of knowledge makes you who you are. We can never, ever know what opportunities will arise or how anything we know now can help us. Good Boy and Girl Scouts fill their minds and are always prepared. You don't have to be an ace at building fires to shine - although I do recommend learning things like tying slip knots and building fires. Just look at those poor folks on Lost. Again, fictional, but ....
My boyfriend is Irish. Years ago, I worked in an Irish bar with a number of his countrymen. I learned a lot of Irish slang, that a fantastic Irish TV show called Father Ted existed, the fact that Catholics call the Northern Irish city "Derry" and Protestants call it "London Derry," and a number of folk tunes. At the time, I was angry and humiliated to be working as a waitress when I had a double bachelor's in Arts from NYU. I look at it now as getting a head start.
But if my relationship with Colm doesn't work out, I suppose could meet and marry that Japanese boy yet. In any case, I'll be ready.
My coworker saw that I was impressed and immediately began to denigrate her skills. She was taking the 1-kyuu, sure, she said, but there was no way she'd pass. It took her 6 years, after all, to learn 1000 kanji* and now she had 2 months to learn 1000 more. "It is," she declared, "impossible."
*Chinese symbols used heavily in Japanese writing
"Oh, it can't be," I said. "You've already come so far. And how fantastic that you've learned so much Japanese in the first place!"
Here, my coworker grimaced. "It honestly isn't that great," she said. "As a matter of fact, I didn't recommend it, considering that learning Japanese is really sort of useless."*
"Useless!" I was flabbergasted. "What do you mean?"
(*Let me pause here to state that before she declared the study of Japanese "useless", my coworker told me she was having an "I hate Japan" day - very common for ex patriots. That said ... )
"It's useless," she continued, "because for the insane amount of work it takes for a native English speaker to even learn the language it just isn't worth it when you'll probably never have the opportunity to use it once you move back home."
My coworker had a point. Realistically speaking, how exactly is Japanese going to help either of us when we move away, beyond helping us speak to waiters at Japanese restaurants and impressing Japanese friends, or the random nihonjin we meet? Myself, I'll never have the sort of job where I have to deal with Japanese businessmen and I really don't foresee myself marrying into a Japanese family. So why even try to master Japanese grammar?
I started studying Japanese in the first place because I didn't want to be an ignorant Ugly American who stomped all over the culture and ran around further embarrassing her people by insisting on speaking English to shopkeepers. Furthermore, I hated depending on my Japanese-speaking friends (all men) to speak for me. Lastly, I love languages and especially love learning anything new. And I love learning new things because, ultimately, though I see her point, I am not like my coworker on her "I hate Japan!" day.
You see, I don't think there is such a thing as "useless knowledge."
"Random facts," "useless knowledge": these terms are popular in American culture. People who can quote scientific equations or name the number one hits of cultural icons from the 40s are sniggered at - until they win cool millions on Jeopardy, of course. Learning skills you don't actually use or being an Arts major in college is especially scoffed at. What will you ever do with a head full of theory? our parents, friends, and parents' friends complain. Computers; go into computers. Or business. Something you can touch. Double major - why?
I double majored in college - two majors that could only be considered "useless" - English and Paleoanthropology. Granted - the latter is hardly a "useless" field but if you aren't planning on entering it then the hours spent in the lab, the papers sweated over, the numerous primate taxa memorized do start to seem un-worth it. I double majored because I was fascinated in evolution, stones and bones - I needed to know more. I also wanted to study literature because I saw myself as a novelist, from the time I was small. I wasn't particularly interested in working for newspapers so English, rather than the rule-heavy Journalism, was really all that fit, even if it didn't necessarily translate itself to a sure-fire job once I graduated.
Five years later, I'm proud to report that I've been making a living ever since I graduated; first at TV Guide and then as an editor at a media research company that went from a start up in Chinatown to a swanky operation on Park Avenue. Today, I'm an English teacher living abroad and since I moved to Japan my creativity is higher than ever. No, I have never been required to discuss Shakespeare or Faulkner at my jobs but just because I am not required to discuss them doesn't mean I don't. I'm never far from someone who loves to read as much as I do and I've yet to find someone who is unimpressed by my knowledge of human and primate anatomy. I love the things I learned and even if I did feel disgruntled during the lean times when I was out of work nothing could ever take from me the ecstasy I felt each time I was inspired by Hemingway or examined the unmistakable evidence of the valgus knee in an archaic hominid.
Any fool will tell you that knowledge is power. Most of us will never have the opportunity to use what we learned in science camp to create a bomb out of chocolate and foil, but for those of us who live simple, quiet lives, our hard work is usually reward us through the sweet, random little life surprise.
Hands-down, my favorite thing about life is the sweet, random little surprises. Let me illustrate: at 15, you buy a blue T-shirt at Wet Seal with the image of a frizzy-haired woman you can't place so you ask your mom and discover that it's Gilda Radner, star of Saturday Night Live in the 70s. You develop an interest and research her career, discovering a genuine admiration for the woman's comedic gifts. At 20, you meet a woman in a coffee shop while wearing that old T-shirt who is so impressed she comments on it. She loves Gilda Radner, she gushes. Gilda was her favorite comedienne - ever. You chat it up and before you know it, you find a wonderful new friend who, actually, later introduces you to the man who will become your new boss at a time when you are desperate for work. Surprise!! Thank you, Gilda and Wet Seal.
All right, so maybe that's an extreme example but I'm sure the general pattern is familiar; or at least I hope it is because the random little surprise is such a sweet part of life. The random little surprise ... so very often brought about by a shared or obscure knowledge gleaned at some point when it seemed completely unimportant.
Here, some examples from my own life:
At 13, I decided to write a novel. It would be set in Germany and take place during World War II. My protagonist would be Jewish and, of course, she would be sent to Auschwitz*. I read everything I could find on the Holocaust, Judaism and even started trying to learn German.
*Please ignore the ludicrousness of this idea - I was 13, after all, and I had great ambition.
When I was 15, I realized how fabulously ridiculous and offensive my nearly-completed novel was. I was a 15 year old girl surrounded by Catholics and Protestants in a Florida town that had, perhaps, 5 Jewish families. I'd never starved, I knew nothing about life. How could I possibly write a novel about the Holocaust??? I set aside my hard work, burning with shame. Oh, the waste of all those hours in the library, fueled by creative passion and empathy.
Three years later, I became infatuated with a half-Jewish man who was living in Germany and obsessed with World War II. He laughed at what he called my "scheiss German" but was impressed with my other knowledge. Our relationship was poisonous and things ended badly, but nonetheless, my research at age 13 had not been in vain. I moved to New York at 18, where I was surrounded by Jewish people and got plenty of opportunity to expand my knowledge of their culture. Just the other day, I met a German tourist in Thailand who was impressed that I knew various cities in Germany - things learned from my time with the World War II nut.
In college, as I stated, I studied Paleoanthropology. It hasn't earned me a dime (... yet) but it has made impressed countless acquaintances and made me extremely aware of my anatomy. On a crowded train with no straps to grab, I tuck my knees in towards each other since I know that part of the reason H. sapiens can stand upright is because our femurs are slanted inwards (the valgus knee), which affects our center of gravity. As the train jostles, I give my center of gravity a little help. I never, ever fall.
At 6, I decided I was going to be an author and taught myself to type on the typewriter in my father's office. I soon discovered that I was extremely fast at it and after taking a typing course my Freshman year of high school, I could literally type over 100 words per minute with my eyes shut. At 27, I have no creative work published but since I was 20, I have run a transcription side business that brings in at least a couple of thousand extra dollars per year. No, I'm not an author ... but was learning how to type useless? I think not. And who knows ... I might write that novel yet.
No knowledge is useless; it only depends on how open you are to using it and how large you expect your reward to be. Sometimes we use it in a small way, sometimes we use it in a large way. Your mosaic of knowledge makes you who you are. We can never, ever know what opportunities will arise or how anything we know now can help us. Good Boy and Girl Scouts fill their minds and are always prepared. You don't have to be an ace at building fires to shine - although I do recommend learning things like tying slip knots and building fires. Just look at those poor folks on Lost. Again, fictional, but ....
My boyfriend is Irish. Years ago, I worked in an Irish bar with a number of his countrymen. I learned a lot of Irish slang, that a fantastic Irish TV show called Father Ted existed, the fact that Catholics call the Northern Irish city "Derry" and Protestants call it "London Derry," and a number of folk tunes. At the time, I was angry and humiliated to be working as a waitress when I had a double bachelor's in Arts from NYU. I look at it now as getting a head start.
But if my relationship with Colm doesn't work out, I suppose could meet and marry that Japanese boy yet. In any case, I'll be ready.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
gee golly goodness, granny!
Doris Lessing wins Nobel for literature - Yahoo!
News http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20071011/ap_on_en_ot/nobel_literature
simone sent me this link today...coolness! pls, check it out :)
News http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20071011/ap_on_en_ot/nobel_literature
simone sent me this link today...coolness! pls, check it out :)
Monday, October 08, 2007
The Aftermath
How do you deal with the break up of a relationship that lasted longer than all your previous relationships combined? Yes, these are relative terms.... I'm talking 6 years.
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
Preaching to the (culturally-aware) choir
I do apologize for being totally AWOL. I have since started medical school, and because this is the week of our first exam, I am SERIOUSLY PROCRASTINATING! But also, we started a new unit in our "fuzzy" half of the curriculum, and an event in today's class particularly bothered me. I've copied the post I wrote on my own blog, below.
Wish me luck! It all goes down Friday!
**********
Today, we began the small-groups sessions of our Communications class. This is where we're going to learn to gain patients' trust, built empathy, and overall communicate effectively. Part of this class requires us to research some "difficult topic", and then make a presentation to the group and practice the scenario with a patient instructor.
My school is starting this new program, a pilot, really, where they want to introduce culturally sticky situations into the repertoire of uncomfortable topics and situations. So, during our first small-group session, today, in the midst of our introducing ourselves to each other and talking about our backgrounds, one of the course's co-directors came in to talk about this program. At the end, she passed out the handouts that explained the pilot and asked interested parties to take one.
Everyone did EXCEPT the two white-male students in the group.
After everyone talked about where they were from, including those of us born in or have traveled extensively abroad (at least three of us), it just does not seem right. Here in medical school, you should be learning to deal with people from other cultures, and it shouldn't be optional. You're not really going to have the option of excluding cultural groups from your practice*, so shouldn't you be learning how to "be respectful at all times" within a variety of contexts? No, not an exhaustive course in the nuances of every cultures, but rather an idea of the variance in interpretations of major life crises and sickness.
Maybe it is because these two men intend to practice in their home states, somewhere rural, maybe. An all-WASP town. However, you're here now. You're in Chicago, with the largest Hispanic population outside Los Angeles, with social problems of gentrification, amongst other aspects and issues of diversity. You can't hide from it.
It's not even a matter of the school's curriculum, although I think there are limitations to that - there's a couple sessions (a handful of hours) of cultural sensitivity training in the spring. But in a room where you are the only WASPs amongst your peers, it's a slap in the face of everyone else that you passed the stack of sheets on - totally uninterested in (or most likely oblivious to) bridging the gap - and passed on the opportunity to seem empathetic within your own classroom. Honestly, if you're going to be offensive to your peers on the first day of class, I can only wonder how you, after you have the "M" and "D" next to your Anglican surname, will treat the patients whose names you cannot pronounce, who you may have to speak to with an interpreter, or who are scared and apprehensive or overly obedient because they come from another culture.
Will you show them the same kind of empathy you showed us today?
*No, you should not be excluding cultural groups from your practice. Unless you are racist. Which, if you are, that's a whole other ethical issue.
**********
Any questions/comments you want to direct specifically to me can be sent to: da period pan period jin atsign gmail period com.
Wish me luck! It all goes down Friday!
**********
Today, we began the small-groups sessions of our Communications class. This is where we're going to learn to gain patients' trust, built empathy, and overall communicate effectively. Part of this class requires us to research some "difficult topic", and then make a presentation to the group and practice the scenario with a patient instructor.
My school is starting this new program, a pilot, really, where they want to introduce culturally sticky situations into the repertoire of uncomfortable topics and situations. So, during our first small-group session, today, in the midst of our introducing ourselves to each other and talking about our backgrounds, one of the course's co-directors came in to talk about this program. At the end, she passed out the handouts that explained the pilot and asked interested parties to take one.
Everyone did EXCEPT the two white-male students in the group.
After everyone talked about where they were from, including those of us born in or have traveled extensively abroad (at least three of us), it just does not seem right. Here in medical school, you should be learning to deal with people from other cultures, and it shouldn't be optional. You're not really going to have the option of excluding cultural groups from your practice*, so shouldn't you be learning how to "be respectful at all times" within a variety of contexts? No, not an exhaustive course in the nuances of every cultures, but rather an idea of the variance in interpretations of major life crises and sickness.
Maybe it is because these two men intend to practice in their home states, somewhere rural, maybe. An all-WASP town. However, you're here now. You're in Chicago, with the largest Hispanic population outside Los Angeles, with social problems of gentrification, amongst other aspects and issues of diversity. You can't hide from it.
It's not even a matter of the school's curriculum, although I think there are limitations to that - there's a couple sessions (a handful of hours) of cultural sensitivity training in the spring. But in a room where you are the only WASPs amongst your peers, it's a slap in the face of everyone else that you passed the stack of sheets on - totally uninterested in (or most likely oblivious to) bridging the gap - and passed on the opportunity to seem empathetic within your own classroom. Honestly, if you're going to be offensive to your peers on the first day of class, I can only wonder how you, after you have the "M" and "D" next to your Anglican surname, will treat the patients whose names you cannot pronounce, who you may have to speak to with an interpreter, or who are scared and apprehensive or overly obedient because they come from another culture.
Will you show them the same kind of empathy you showed us today?
*No, you should not be excluding cultural groups from your practice. Unless you are racist. Which, if you are, that's a whole other ethical issue.
**********
Any questions/comments you want to direct specifically to me can be sent to: da period pan period jin atsign gmail period com.
Monday, October 01, 2007
Call Me a Hypocrite ...
Technically, the video I am about to share with you should offend each and every one of us, as feminists. It shows - shock! horror! - a male publicly degrading a female. In his familiar eyes is a sadistic gleam and his barbed words are veiled in a friendly tone. To add to the horror, the aforementioned public degradation is an ambush. The female, to her credit, reacts with arguable poise and stands up for herself: "You're making me sad I came," she says. "You're hurting my feelings!" The audience is less than sympathetic - they roar with laughter each time the man licks his chops and delivers yet another carefully crafted attack.
So why am I not outraged at this display that occurred on national television, on a major American network? Why am I not sympathizing with the mistreated female? Why am I, instead, posting the video of this occurrence in this forum and about to hit you with what I intend to be the clincher for this blog post?
Because the man committing this act is David Letterman and the woman is Paris Hilton.
Call me a hypocrite if you want. Sorry, sisters - this is one time when I've gotta side with the boys.
Besides; Dave hasn't been this sharp in a long time.
So why am I not outraged at this display that occurred on national television, on a major American network? Why am I not sympathizing with the mistreated female? Why am I, instead, posting the video of this occurrence in this forum and about to hit you with what I intend to be the clincher for this blog post?
Because the man committing this act is David Letterman and the woman is Paris Hilton.
Call me a hypocrite if you want. Sorry, sisters - this is one time when I've gotta side with the boys.
Besides; Dave hasn't been this sharp in a long time.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Choices
Today, as soon as he opened his eyes, I told my boyfriend:
"Good morning! My friend wants me to proofread an article for him so I might be busy for a little while. But you are welcome to take off your shirt and prance about for my amusement."
As soon as I said the words, I thought that perhaps I was being unfair and decided to give him another option:
"Or if you prefer," I said, "you can also make me breakfast."
He can never say I'm not a good girlfriend.
"Good morning! My friend wants me to proofread an article for him so I might be busy for a little while. But you are welcome to take off your shirt and prance about for my amusement."
As soon as I said the words, I thought that perhaps I was being unfair and decided to give him another option:
"Or if you prefer," I said, "you can also make me breakfast."
He can never say I'm not a good girlfriend.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
You Go, Girl
http://www.nytimes.com/2007/09/23/us/politics/23dems.html?_r=1&hp&oref=slogin
____________________________________________________________________________________
Pinpoint customers who are looking for what you sell.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Spam, Lame Spam, Pointless Spam
The Women's Writes Early-Fall Menu:
eggs and bacon
women's rights and bacon
feminism, credit card e-spam and bacon
thoughtful musings, real estate e-spam, wedding talk
bank e-spam, political issues, scam e-spam
drug pushing e-spam, personal recollections, feminist history
Click off, spammers. We have real work to do here.
eggs and bacon
women's rights and bacon
feminism, credit card e-spam and bacon
thoughtful musings, real estate e-spam, wedding talk
bank e-spam, political issues, scam e-spam
drug pushing e-spam, personal recollections, feminist history
Click off, spammers. We have real work to do here.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Meat Market
So I took a second job at one of the major Fitness Clubs in town. Yes, I should have seen it coming from a mile away, but UGH these men! I expected that I would make the acquaintance of some regular members because I would see them every day, and I did. It's also normal to have friendly conversations them about how life is going. BUT UGH (again!) the more open they are with their comments the more revoltng they are! esp. about women and other people who they think are unattractive. I'm not beyond trash-talking the people who are less-than nice or oh-so-power-tripping, but the people they insult are people they don't even know.
How naive it was to think that a gym could be a place free of thinking and compassion beyond the way people look or dress. DUH... 70% of the people that go there want to look bigger, smaller, more this or less that. 20% go there for that same reason but say it's to stay healthy (that's where I fit). and the last 10% are truly there to keep up their health or have fun on the courts.
Maybe it would help if I joined them in admiring the beautiful people.
NAH.
How naive it was to think that a gym could be a place free of thinking and compassion beyond the way people look or dress. DUH... 70% of the people that go there want to look bigger, smaller, more this or less that. 20% go there for that same reason but say it's to stay healthy (that's where I fit). and the last 10% are truly there to keep up their health or have fun on the courts.
Maybe it would help if I joined them in admiring the beautiful people.
NAH.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
ACK!
dear women's writes readers and contributors:
i apologize for any weird spam posts that you may have come across on wwm recently! dolly and i have both been making major life changes and haven't been able to monitor this site as closely as usual this week. we delete bogus spammy posts whenever we catch them...
happy reading and posting!
i apologize for any weird spam posts that you may have come across on wwm recently! dolly and i have both been making major life changes and haven't been able to monitor this site as closely as usual this week. we delete bogus spammy posts whenever we catch them...
happy reading and posting!
Thursday, August 09, 2007
Feminist is not a Bad Word By: Courtney Phillips
The word feminist has gone from possessing a revered meaning of female strength and pursuit of equality to being avoided and unclaimed by most of a generation. It is not uncommon to hear a woman say something along the lines of, “Well, I’m not a feminist, but…” and then talk about women deserving equal pay in the workplace. Let me be the first to break it to all of those women who are denying being feminists, but harbor beliefs that women deserve equality. You are a feminist. You just aren’t claiming the title.
There are so many misconceptions about feminism that many shy away from owning the title. The undoubtedly ridiculous stereotypes about feminists have cast a negative cloud over the entire feminist movement. Most of the stereotypes have to do with the appearance and attitude of feminists; some believe that in order to be a feminist you must be loud, abrasive, man-hating, lesbian, give up makeup and skirts, stop shaving, and abandon your religion. Collectively, our society agrees that stereotypes are bad, and in fact, most of us are taught not to stereotype groups of people at a young age. There are, however, always a few individuals that are representative of those negative stereotypes. For example, there are feminists who are loud and lesbian, (which isn’t a bad or harmful thing) just as there are some athletes who are scholastically challenged and some Americans who are gun-toting, overweight, and arrogant. Stereotypes are negative and insulting to any group of individuals, feminists included. A core belief within the ideals of feminism lies in personal choices and individuality. No woman or feminist fits neatly into any mold; feminists celebrate the personal freedom to look, live, and just be that way that you are most comfortable.
Now that we have figured out what a feminist is not, let’s discuss what a feminist is exactly. Feminism is the movement toward full social, political, and economic equality. Being a feminist is different for each person. It’s about each person (not just women) having enough information to make informed choices. It’s about not being limited to societal expectations. Feminism isn’t about women being more like men, or the two becoming one. Feminism recognizes that men and women are capable of different things, not based on gender, but on individuality. It’s about being liberated and making genuine choices. The focus on feminism needs to be on the freedom of choice, and not on the choices that any one individual makes.
Some people have problems reconciling the idea of being both religious and a feminist. Can one be a feminist and religious? Absolutely, yes one can be both. There are many feminists who also endorse the Bible. For example, although a Catholic may not personally believe in the use of birth control, he/she would not prevent others, Catholics or non-Catholics, from deciding for themselves whether or not to believe in or use of birth control. The problem is not with religion. The problem lies with the interpreters of religion. Specifically, the
Society seems to have forgotten that feminists were calling for action against the Taliban a decade before the September 11th tragedy in
Feminists were active against domestic violence long before anyone else was talking about it. The federal government did not allocate any money to assist with ending violence against women until 1994. It was only after the brutal murder of the beautiful Nicole Brown Simpson that Americans as a whole began paying attention to this issue. Domestic violence is still a pervasive issue, so much so, that it is viewed independently of feminism.
Feminist is not a bad word. The term feminism has always been an ideological fire starter. In general, words that are associated with being either progressive or female tend to get degraded. If the word “feminist” were changed to something else, then over time that word would come to possess negative associations. Conservatives and right-wing supporters have captured the language in this way. For example, look to how the right-wing has manipulated the use of the term “pro life” in the debate on abortion. Would the abortion discussion be viewed differently if the pro-choice individuals had adopted the term “pro life” first, as in not wanting women to die from illegal abortions. Feminists are in pursuit of full social, political, and economic equality. Feminists have an important voice and should never be ashamed of their beliefs. Hasn’t our society learned to be accepting and tolerant of all individuals, feminists included? Being a feminist means living by your own convictions and living a self-respecting life. Feminists of the world, stand up, speak out and be proud.
Sources:
Catholics for a Free Choice, www.catholicsforafreechoice.org, email cffc@igc.apc.org
Delamotte, Eugenia. Women Imagine Change: A Global Anthology of Women's Resistance from 600 B.C.E. to Present.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Meeting the Mum
In less than a week, my parents and brother are coming to Japan to visit me during our summer holiday. Words cannot express how excited I am - it will be the first time I've seen them since they bid me goodbye at the airport last January. I have reorganized my apartment-tini so that it will look super kawaii and am busily grilling my students for recs on where to take them (not that I don't have any ideas of my own after 7 months, but I'm always on the lookout for something new and cool). When my students and fellow staff members ask if I have any plans for the summer holiday, I am quick to tell them that my family is coming - my family is coming!
And yet, despite the glee, I feel twinges of panic. Said twinges swell up in tiny bubbles, cutting through my euphoria, threatening to burst when I think of the fact that not only are my folks coming to town next week, but so are my boyfriend's mother and brother. Thus, for the first time ever in my life, I will be meeting the mom. Or meeting the mum, rather - my boyfriend is from Ireland.
I met my boyfriend on my second day in Japan. He was my tall, adorable, unintelligible downstairs neighbor and we became fast friends. Within the next couple of months, romance bloomed and we are now about to hit the 5-month mark. For some reason, we are still in the 'honeymoon phase' of things and things are quite, quite excellent. This is my second 'serious' relationship - my first was quite some years ago, in college, and as my ex is Indian, he was careful to keep me as far away from his parents as possible. To be sure, I spent quite a bit of time with his very cool siblings, cousins and friends but, as he explained to me, Indian parents and children keep things such as relationships private unless a wedding is imminent. In the years between my ex and my current boyfriend, there were no relationships beyond flings - which is how I have gotten to the age of 27 without ever having met the parents.
27 and no parents met! Some might think this a most glorious state of being - from many accounts, parents can often upset a happy couple with prying, strict moral values, mewling about grand children/marriage and all around personality conflicts. I used to joke with my ex that I didn't mind never having met his parents - "Who needs the stress?" I would tease - even if I really longed to meet the people responsible for the quirky, grumpy Anish and was secretly hurt that, the one time he took me to his home town, he craned his neck at every intersection to make sure no one his parents knew saw us together. After we broke up during my Senior year of college, knowing that no parents would despise me was a comfort, even if I did worry about what his brother and sister and friends thought. For five years there were no boyfriends or parents in sight. And now, unexpectedly, my time has come.
Colm assures me that I have nothing to worry about. His mum isn't like crazy American moms, don't I know, like? She doesn't have anything out for her darling b'hoy's girlfriend. I'm sure he's right - the photos he's showed me reveal a darling looking woman whose gentle smile seems incapable of morphing into an anti-American girlfriend sneer. And quite honestly, I am really excited to meet Colm's mum and little brother. From what he's told me, they sound delightful and, of course, I want to meet anyone connected with him. I have a quiet dream of telling Ms. O'Doyle that she raised her son right and look forward to catching similar twinkles in their eyes over the cuppas of Barry's tea we might share in his apartment. Yet, I can't help but worry. Will she find my American way flat and uncharming? Will she look at my pimply skin and be unimpressed? Will she secretly think I am stocky or that I look strange next to her 6 foot tall son? Will she, like many others, be annoyed by my less-than-gentle world view and sarcasm? Most of all, will she think I am an aging woman ruthlessly enjoying a b'hoy toy? Neither Colm or I have mentioned to our parents that we're four years apart in age - with me his senior but I'm sure both sets of relatives will figure it out at some point during their visits. Not that it's something either of us are ashamed of - especially not Colm. For my part, I do worry about how we will be perceived, and any issues the age difference could stir up later on. But that's another story.
Tonight, I chatted with my brother over IM. In the past 11 years, my brother has been in four serious relationships and has successfully become part of his girlfriends' families each time. I asked him, "Diego? What are your best tips for meeting the mom?"
"Don't you mean 'the mum'? She's Irish, isn't she?"
"My bad."
"You want tips?"
"Yes," I tope, adding, "Colm isn't nervous at all about meeting you, ma, or dad. I really envy his calm."
"You shouldn't be nervous, either." said Diego. "You want tips? S***, just don't say anything stupid."
"That helps," I told my eternally charming brother.
"Ha ha, just kidding." he said. "Just talk like you'd normally talk. And smile. And act like you actually care about whatever stupid s*** they're talking about. Smile and nod."
"Well, I do care what Ms. O'Doyle has to say," I typed, slightly wounded.
"And you can knock off that kiss-a** act," Diego said.
Talk like I normally talk ... what kind of advice is that? Talking the way I normally talk has done nothing but get me in trouble ever since Catholic school. Smile and nod? She'll think I'm a ventriloquist's dummy! And then another thought troubles me even further: at 27, am I really still so insecure? I tell myself it's only because it's my first time. Everyone knows about the first time!
In the past, my friends have met their significant others' parents and fretted. "What will I wear? Will my boyfriend like my crazy family?" they asked me.
"Of course he will!" I always said. "And they'll all love you, too! How could they not!" Because I love my friends, I couldn't imagine how I could be wrong about this. How could they - wonderful, smart, beautiful - worry about what parents would think of them? Similarly, I can't imagine that my parents wouldn't like Colm. He's handsome, quiet, intelligent, and respectful. He has a good job, loves classical music and eats everything set in front of him (a big plus in my Italian parents' book). Already, my father has shown more interest in him than he ever showed in Anish and once my mother hears Colm talking in that seductive, Irish purr of his I imagine I'll have to pry her off of him.
I just wish I had the same calm about myself.
What will I wear, come to think of it? Something tells me that my fishnet stockings and red leather basque are the wrong choice.
I put the question to you. How did you win over your men's moms?
And yet, despite the glee, I feel twinges of panic. Said twinges swell up in tiny bubbles, cutting through my euphoria, threatening to burst when I think of the fact that not only are my folks coming to town next week, but so are my boyfriend's mother and brother. Thus, for the first time ever in my life, I will be meeting the mom. Or meeting the mum, rather - my boyfriend is from Ireland.
I met my boyfriend on my second day in Japan. He was my tall, adorable, unintelligible downstairs neighbor and we became fast friends. Within the next couple of months, romance bloomed and we are now about to hit the 5-month mark. For some reason, we are still in the 'honeymoon phase' of things and things are quite, quite excellent. This is my second 'serious' relationship - my first was quite some years ago, in college, and as my ex is Indian, he was careful to keep me as far away from his parents as possible. To be sure, I spent quite a bit of time with his very cool siblings, cousins and friends but, as he explained to me, Indian parents and children keep things such as relationships private unless a wedding is imminent. In the years between my ex and my current boyfriend, there were no relationships beyond flings - which is how I have gotten to the age of 27 without ever having met the parents.
27 and no parents met! Some might think this a most glorious state of being - from many accounts, parents can often upset a happy couple with prying, strict moral values, mewling about grand children/marriage and all around personality conflicts. I used to joke with my ex that I didn't mind never having met his parents - "Who needs the stress?" I would tease - even if I really longed to meet the people responsible for the quirky, grumpy Anish and was secretly hurt that, the one time he took me to his home town, he craned his neck at every intersection to make sure no one his parents knew saw us together. After we broke up during my Senior year of college, knowing that no parents would despise me was a comfort, even if I did worry about what his brother and sister and friends thought. For five years there were no boyfriends or parents in sight. And now, unexpectedly, my time has come.
Colm assures me that I have nothing to worry about. His mum isn't like crazy American moms, don't I know, like? She doesn't have anything out for her darling b'hoy's girlfriend. I'm sure he's right - the photos he's showed me reveal a darling looking woman whose gentle smile seems incapable of morphing into an anti-American girlfriend sneer. And quite honestly, I am really excited to meet Colm's mum and little brother. From what he's told me, they sound delightful and, of course, I want to meet anyone connected with him. I have a quiet dream of telling Ms. O'Doyle that she raised her son right and look forward to catching similar twinkles in their eyes over the cuppas of Barry's tea we might share in his apartment. Yet, I can't help but worry. Will she find my American way flat and uncharming? Will she look at my pimply skin and be unimpressed? Will she secretly think I am stocky or that I look strange next to her 6 foot tall son? Will she, like many others, be annoyed by my less-than-gentle world view and sarcasm? Most of all, will she think I am an aging woman ruthlessly enjoying a b'hoy toy? Neither Colm or I have mentioned to our parents that we're four years apart in age - with me his senior but I'm sure both sets of relatives will figure it out at some point during their visits. Not that it's something either of us are ashamed of - especially not Colm. For my part, I do worry about how we will be perceived, and any issues the age difference could stir up later on. But that's another story.
Tonight, I chatted with my brother over IM. In the past 11 years, my brother has been in four serious relationships and has successfully become part of his girlfriends' families each time. I asked him, "Diego? What are your best tips for meeting the mom?"
"Don't you mean 'the mum'? She's Irish, isn't she?"
"My bad."
"You want tips?"
"Yes," I tope, adding, "Colm isn't nervous at all about meeting you, ma, or dad. I really envy his calm."
"You shouldn't be nervous, either." said Diego. "You want tips? S***, just don't say anything stupid."
"That helps," I told my eternally charming brother.
"Ha ha, just kidding." he said. "Just talk like you'd normally talk. And smile. And act like you actually care about whatever stupid s*** they're talking about. Smile and nod."
"Well, I do care what Ms. O'Doyle has to say," I typed, slightly wounded.
"And you can knock off that kiss-a** act," Diego said.
Talk like I normally talk ... what kind of advice is that? Talking the way I normally talk has done nothing but get me in trouble ever since Catholic school. Smile and nod? She'll think I'm a ventriloquist's dummy! And then another thought troubles me even further: at 27, am I really still so insecure? I tell myself it's only because it's my first time. Everyone knows about the first time!
In the past, my friends have met their significant others' parents and fretted. "What will I wear? Will my boyfriend like my crazy family?" they asked me.
"Of course he will!" I always said. "And they'll all love you, too! How could they not!" Because I love my friends, I couldn't imagine how I could be wrong about this. How could they - wonderful, smart, beautiful - worry about what parents would think of them? Similarly, I can't imagine that my parents wouldn't like Colm. He's handsome, quiet, intelligent, and respectful. He has a good job, loves classical music and eats everything set in front of him (a big plus in my Italian parents' book). Already, my father has shown more interest in him than he ever showed in Anish and once my mother hears Colm talking in that seductive, Irish purr of his I imagine I'll have to pry her off of him.
I just wish I had the same calm about myself.
What will I wear, come to think of it? Something tells me that my fishnet stockings and red leather basque are the wrong choice.
I put the question to you. How did you win over your men's moms?
Thursday, July 26, 2007
A WOMAN'S STORY ABOUT CERVICAL CANCER-SARAH K
I RECENTLY READ THIS STORY OUT OF A TEXAS NEWSPAPER AND IT DEEPLY TOUCHED ME. AS SOMEONE WHO ADVOCATES FOR WOMEN'S RIGHTS, I UNDERSTAND THE BATTLE FOR THE VACCINE FOR THE HUMAN PAPILLOMAVIRUS. IT IS CRITICAL TO WOMEN'S HEALTH AND YOUNG GIRL'S HEALTH.
HEATHER BURCHAM WAS ONLY 31 YEARS OLD WHEN SHE DIED OF CERVICAL CANCER. SHE SPEND THE LAST FOUR YEARS OF HER LIFE IN PAIN DUE TO THE DISEASE. THROUGHOUT HER BATTLE OF THE DISEASE SHE SPOKE OUT STRONGLY FOR A NEW VACCINE THAT WOULD PROTECT WOMEN FROM MOST COMMON FORMS OF THE HUMAN PAPILLOMAVIRUS. IT CAUSES CLOSE TO 70% OF ALL CERVICAL CANCER CASES.
SHE WAS VERY SUPPORTIVE OF GOVERNOR RICK PERRY WHEN HE MANDATED THAT ALL GIRLS ENTERING SIXTH GRADE IN TEXAS WOULD BE GIVEN THE GARDASIL VACCINE AS PART OF THEIR BACK-TO-SCHOOL IMMUNIZATIONS. THE GARDASIL VACCINE PROTECTS AGAINST THE HUMAN PAPILLOMAVIRUS WHICH CAUSES CERVICAL CANCER. BURCHAM WAS SUPPORTIVE AND ONLY WANTED TO PROTECT OUR DAUGHTERS FROM CERVICAL CANCER.
UNFORTUNATELY, LAWMAKERS OVERTURNED THE GOVERNORS MANDATE. THERE WAS CONCERN THAT THE VACCINE WOULD ENCOURAGE GIRLS TO BECOME SEXUALLY ACTIVE. GARDASIL NEEDS TO BE ADMINISTERED BEFORE GIRLS BECOME SEXUALLY ACTIVE. THIS IS AN EXAMPLE OF POLITICS INTERVENING IN A MATTER THAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN LEFT TO THE GOVERNOR. THE VACCINE CAN SAVE LIVES. AT THE END OF THE DAY, THAT SHOULD BE THE BOTTOM LINE.
PARENTS CAN TAKE THE INITIATIVE AND HAVE THEIR GIRLS RECEIVE THE THREE DOSE VACCINE OF GARDASIL. EVERY PARENT SHOULD WANT TO PROTECT THEIR DAUGHTER FROM GETTING CERVICAL CANCER.
HEATHER BURCHAM SAID "IF I COULD HELP ONE CHILD, TAKE THIS CANCER AWAY FROM ONE CHILD, IT WOULD MEAN THE WORLD TO ME."
THE CENTERS FOR DISEASE CONTROL AND PREVENTION ESTIMATE THAT ONE IN FOUR AMERICAN WOMEN BETWEEN THE AGES OF 14-59 IS INFECTED WITH THE SEXUALLY TRANSMITTED HUMAN HUMAN PAPILLOMAVIRUS, AND MOST DON'T KNOW IT. IT OFTEN TURNS INTO CERVICAL CANCER.
CERVICAL CANCER KILLS 10 AMERICAN WOMEN A DAY.
HEATHER BURCHAM WAS ONLY 31 YEARS OLD WHEN SHE DIED OF CERVICAL CANCER. SHE SPEND THE LAST FOUR YEARS OF HER LIFE IN PAIN DUE TO THE DISEASE. THROUGHOUT HER BATTLE OF THE DISEASE SHE SPOKE OUT STRONGLY FOR A NEW VACCINE THAT WOULD PROTECT WOMEN FROM MOST COMMON FORMS OF THE HUMAN PAPILLOMAVIRUS. IT CAUSES CLOSE TO 70% OF ALL CERVICAL CANCER CASES.
SHE WAS VERY SUPPORTIVE OF GOVERNOR RICK PERRY WHEN HE MANDATED THAT ALL GIRLS ENTERING SIXTH GRADE IN TEXAS WOULD BE GIVEN THE GARDASIL VACCINE AS PART OF THEIR BACK-TO-SCHOOL IMMUNIZATIONS. THE GARDASIL VACCINE PROTECTS AGAINST THE HUMAN PAPILLOMAVIRUS WHICH CAUSES CERVICAL CANCER. BURCHAM WAS SUPPORTIVE AND ONLY WANTED TO PROTECT OUR DAUGHTERS FROM CERVICAL CANCER.
UNFORTUNATELY, LAWMAKERS OVERTURNED THE GOVERNORS MANDATE. THERE WAS CONCERN THAT THE VACCINE WOULD ENCOURAGE GIRLS TO BECOME SEXUALLY ACTIVE. GARDASIL NEEDS TO BE ADMINISTERED BEFORE GIRLS BECOME SEXUALLY ACTIVE. THIS IS AN EXAMPLE OF POLITICS INTERVENING IN A MATTER THAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN LEFT TO THE GOVERNOR. THE VACCINE CAN SAVE LIVES. AT THE END OF THE DAY, THAT SHOULD BE THE BOTTOM LINE.
PARENTS CAN TAKE THE INITIATIVE AND HAVE THEIR GIRLS RECEIVE THE THREE DOSE VACCINE OF GARDASIL. EVERY PARENT SHOULD WANT TO PROTECT THEIR DAUGHTER FROM GETTING CERVICAL CANCER.
HEATHER BURCHAM SAID "IF I COULD HELP ONE CHILD, TAKE THIS CANCER AWAY FROM ONE CHILD, IT WOULD MEAN THE WORLD TO ME."
THE CENTERS FOR DISEASE CONTROL AND PREVENTION ESTIMATE THAT ONE IN FOUR AMERICAN WOMEN BETWEEN THE AGES OF 14-59 IS INFECTED WITH THE SEXUALLY TRANSMITTED HUMAN HUMAN PAPILLOMAVIRUS, AND MOST DON'T KNOW IT. IT OFTEN TURNS INTO CERVICAL CANCER.
CERVICAL CANCER KILLS 10 AMERICAN WOMEN A DAY.
PROTECT YOUR DAUGHTERS AGAINST THIS KILLER CANCER FOR HEATHER BURCHAM AND ALL THE OTHERS WHO DIED OF CERVICAL CANCER.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
heh!
Today's work attire: jeans, a tee, flip-flops, and long, dangly earrings.
Why? Because if FT employment won’t allow me to be at the beach, then I’m going to @ least dress, and pretend, like I’m there!
Ha!
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
DOMESTIC VIOLENCE AND HOMELESS LINK-SARAH
Domestic Violence/Housing
There is a link between domestic violence and homelessness in America. Women who decide to leave their abusive partners have little economic resources. Economics is one of the main reasons women stay in an abusive relationships. Women that leave become low-income mothers. They are subjected to finding low-income housing that unusually does not exist. Most places have waiting list. The federal programs to assist women who are low income for housing have waiting list for up to 2 years. What is worse is that women are subjected to a zero tolerance for family members who commit crimes. So if a husband batters his wife she must also leave the premise. Therefore, the innocent victim of violence is homeless or sent to a domestic violence shelter if room is available. This law has recently changed.
Some women are able to gain some independence through the Welfare System. Women do face challenges within the system. In 1996, The Personal Responsibility and Work Opportunity Reconciliation Act of 1996 “mandated that women be employed with 24 months of initial enrollment in welfare and place a 5 year time limit on a woman’s ability to receive.” This was impossible for women to complete. This was a hinder to woman. Abusive partners saw this as a way for a woman to gain control in her life. Often, abusive partners would return and batter their partner again. Also, the welfare system did not allow enough time for victims of domestic violence to regain control of their life. (Baker, 758)
Today, many states have adopted the Family Violence Option. “It allows states to temporary waive time limits and work requirements for women who self-disclose domestic violence.” (Baker, 758) The problem with the act is its implementation. Caseworkers at the Welfare Office are not trained properly. Some caseworkers are resentful of the law because it gives them a larger workload. Changes in the implementation and the attitudes of caseworkers will allow domestic violence victims gain economic security.
The National Law Center on Homelessness and Poverty in 2005 stated that 50% were homeless as a result of domestic violence. It stated in the survey that 92% of the women who were homeless experienced some form of domestic violence or sexual assault. The study states 63% of adults have experienced domestic violence as an adult. (National Law Center, 1)
Sunday, July 22, 2007
What I Like ....
... is the sight of my boyfriend cooking me dinner when I come visit him after a long day of work.
... ahhhhh .....
Saturday, July 21, 2007
FEMALE ELECTED IN INDIA BY SARAH K
IT IS VICTORY FOR WOMEN'S RIGHTS IN INDIA TODAY. THIS COULD MEAN A END TO THE LONG COMMITTMENT TO DISCRIMINATION TO INDIAN WOMEN. THIS IS VERY EXICITING NEWS.
INDIA ELECT PRATIBHA PATIL IS THE FIRST FEMALE PRESIDENT OF THE COUNTRY. PATIL RECEIVED 65.82% OF THE VOTES CASTED BY THE NATIONAL LAWMAKERS AND STATE LEGISLATORS, AND ELECTION COMMISSION HEAD P.D.T. ACHARY. SHE HAD BEEN EXPECTED TO WIN.
PATIL STATED "I AM GRATEFUL TO THE PEOPLE OF INDIA, TO ALL THE MEN AND WOMEN OF INDIA. THIS IS A VICTORY OF THE PRINCIPLES OF WHICH OUR INDIAN PEOPLE UPHOLD".
HUNDREDS OF CONGRESS SUPPORTERS DANCED IN THE STREETS AS A RESULT OF THE THE ELECTION. PEOPLE WERE BANGING DRUMS AND SETTING OFF FIREWORKS.
SHE WILL BE SWORN INTO A 5 YEAR TERM ON JULY 25, 2007.
THE ELECTION OF THE FIRST FEMALE COULD LEAD TO WOMEN'S RIGHT'S BEING ENFORCED. THE SOCIETY OF INDIA MUST COME TO TERMS WITH THE FACT THE WOMEN ARE EQUALS IN SOCIETY. WOMEN HAVE BEEN TREATED SO POORLY IN INDIA THAT IT WILL TAKE A WHILE FOR SOCIETY TO CHANGE.
Friday, July 06, 2007
dressing for success (or, the converse-wearing executive director)
on the my first day of work at my current job, my male supervisor suggested that i "dress to the level i want to be promoted to," meaning that if i'd like to be executive director one day, i should start donning the clothes of a would-be director right now. while i appreciated his input (he was genuinely trying to help), this advice absolutely horrified me. to dress in that way would be so counterintuitive for me in more ways than one.
i admittedly have a big problem dressing "like a grown up." i tend to like to think that clothes don't matter much in my life, yet i firmly believe i would work happier and more effectively if wearing clothes that i feel comfortable wearing. i wonder what impact this thinking has had/will have on my career.
looking back, my attitude toward clothing has shifted with the passage of time. as a child of the eighties, i looked to pop culture rather than my elementary school teaching mom for fashion inspiration. i expected to spend my grown up years wearing tight minidresses and heels on a daily basis and was somewhat excited about that prospect.
now fast forward ten years to high school, when i was a thrift store-shopping bargain hunter with a passion for funky old finds. although i wore a uniform to my all-girl catholic high school, i had a penchant for fifties and sixties dresses which i seemingly had no occasion to wear. (my friends and i would wear these to rock shows around L.A. or alcohol-free parties at our parents' homes.) at that tender age, it was important for my clothes to proclaim to the world that i was an individual and not a cookie-cutter clone.
ten years later, i find myself feeling indifferent when it comes to fashion. i have little to no interest in fashion trends and don't really read mainstream women's magazines, so i don't know what's supposedly in or out, nor do i particularly care. yeah, i still like cute clothes, but i also still feel foolish spending more than $30 on any one item. (plus, there are more important things happening in the world, and thus, more important things to spend money on. funds would be put to better use on responsible philanthropy than a $500 purse!) i feel that my clothes are one part of my identity that gives people clues to who i am, but there are loads of other ways to find out, like, say, talking to me. furthermore, i'm getting less and less inclined to care about strangers getting to know me through my damn clothes. (if someone wants to be my friend, they've got to like a lot more about me than whatever piece of fabric i decide to throw on that day!)
still, getting back to the original thought-- whether i like it or not, i must acknowledge that the clothes i wear send a message, especially in my professional life. naomi wolf's beauty myth mentions studies illustrating the fact that women who wore power suits or professional uniforms to work tended to be taken more seriously than those who didn't. my big problem is accepting that fact. are work dress codes a necessary evil of professional life? i am responsible, capable and qualified, so why can't i be taken seriously wearing jeans and a pair of converse to work? why can't our society move PAST clothing and other aspects of our appearance to seek out the substance beneath them?! until we do, we'll always be forced to conform to superficial standards. as a nonconformist, i just can't help feeling confined by dress codes. still, i comply whenever necessary, despite the nagging feeling that i'm "faking it" all workday long.
i have been wanting to write about my relationship with my clothes for a while, so thanks to noelle for reminding me! this is my first stab at getting some of these thoughts down, and i hope to expand on this more later.
what's your relationship with your clothes like?
i admittedly have a big problem dressing "like a grown up." i tend to like to think that clothes don't matter much in my life, yet i firmly believe i would work happier and more effectively if wearing clothes that i feel comfortable wearing. i wonder what impact this thinking has had/will have on my career.
looking back, my attitude toward clothing has shifted with the passage of time. as a child of the eighties, i looked to pop culture rather than my elementary school teaching mom for fashion inspiration. i expected to spend my grown up years wearing tight minidresses and heels on a daily basis and was somewhat excited about that prospect.
now fast forward ten years to high school, when i was a thrift store-shopping bargain hunter with a passion for funky old finds. although i wore a uniform to my all-girl catholic high school, i had a penchant for fifties and sixties dresses which i seemingly had no occasion to wear. (my friends and i would wear these to rock shows around L.A. or alcohol-free parties at our parents' homes.) at that tender age, it was important for my clothes to proclaim to the world that i was an individual and not a cookie-cutter clone.
ten years later, i find myself feeling indifferent when it comes to fashion. i have little to no interest in fashion trends and don't really read mainstream women's magazines, so i don't know what's supposedly in or out, nor do i particularly care. yeah, i still like cute clothes, but i also still feel foolish spending more than $30 on any one item. (plus, there are more important things happening in the world, and thus, more important things to spend money on. funds would be put to better use on responsible philanthropy than a $500 purse!) i feel that my clothes are one part of my identity that gives people clues to who i am, but there are loads of other ways to find out, like, say, talking to me. furthermore, i'm getting less and less inclined to care about strangers getting to know me through my damn clothes. (if someone wants to be my friend, they've got to like a lot more about me than whatever piece of fabric i decide to throw on that day!)
still, getting back to the original thought-- whether i like it or not, i must acknowledge that the clothes i wear send a message, especially in my professional life. naomi wolf's beauty myth mentions studies illustrating the fact that women who wore power suits or professional uniforms to work tended to be taken more seriously than those who didn't. my big problem is accepting that fact. are work dress codes a necessary evil of professional life? i am responsible, capable and qualified, so why can't i be taken seriously wearing jeans and a pair of converse to work? why can't our society move PAST clothing and other aspects of our appearance to seek out the substance beneath them?! until we do, we'll always be forced to conform to superficial standards. as a nonconformist, i just can't help feeling confined by dress codes. still, i comply whenever necessary, despite the nagging feeling that i'm "faking it" all workday long.
i have been wanting to write about my relationship with my clothes for a while, so thanks to noelle for reminding me! this is my first stab at getting some of these thoughts down, and i hope to expand on this more later.
what's your relationship with your clothes like?
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