Can fraternities really be reformed?

In my last blog, Why college fraternities are bad for boys too, I suggested that prohibiting hazing and Greek life is certainly something that all universities should consider doing.  Prohibition is not a new or radical idea. Some American colleges have already taken that step.  Major American news outlets, like Time magazine and the New York Times, still publish reviews calling on all colleges to get rid of fraternities for good. Indeed, there were even attempts by some university presidents to close fraternities as far back as the mid-19th century.  Although frats have managed, by in large, to ride out these storms, serious questions continue to dog them.  This must mean that something, somewhere is still rotten at the heart of the system. So would reform, rather than abolition – which I suggested – really be the more practical answer?

I suspect that Greek Life institutions would probably resist reform as much as abolition. But if reform was their only choice, supporters would, no doubt, still endeavour to retain what they regard as the system’s most worthy features.  No doubt they would point to the sense of “brotherhood” fraternities aim to engender or, as noted in my previous blog, Greek Life’s supposed “Christian” ethos.  They would certainly highlight the amount fraternities donate to charity - presently estimated at $7 million annually.

Yet scratch below the surface and one finds something fundamentally unsavoury in fraternities’ interpretation of these ostensibly laudable values. Remember, college fraternities were originally invented by rich young white men to isolate themselves from their middle-class peers and to gain some autonomy from college regulation. Nowadays the national study body is more diverse than when the system first started. What hasn’t changed, though, is the pride fraternities take in remaining both independent of campus authority and exclusively male. The fact that higher income and white students are still more likely to join fraternities also means that membership remains overwhelmingly white and upper-middle class. If you are poor or a woman you need not apply. Self-evidently, college fraternities’ concept of “brotherhood” and “Christianity” is deeply at odds with that espoused by the namesake of this law school!

Of course, we have fraternities’ charitable giving. Many good causes undoubtedly benefit from this. My question, though, is whether fraternities’ philanthropic work could be just as easily done on a greater scale by other corporate, religious and student organisations that are not exclusionary, sex-segregated clubs built around binge drinking and hazing. I doubt, for example, that the Salvation Army has ever beaten any of their volunteers to death or left them to die of alcohol poisoning with their hands zip-tied after an initiation! 

Equally fraternities charitable giving must also be viewed in the context of their overall wealth and how they utilize it.  It is estimated that fraternities and sororities own over $3 billion in real estate and take in $150 million of tax-free revenue each year.  Much of this fortune is used, for instance, to help members gain positions of authority on campuses. This, in turn, aids them in continuously securing scholarships and awards. Post-college, frat alumni maintain close ties to the frat.  Many provide donations back to their organisation and help newly graduated “brothers” find employment – thus perpetuating a cycle of social exclusion through the passing of assistance from one wealthy alumni generation to the next. 

Frats further look after themselves through sophisticated trade organisations and a political action committee, FratPAC, which, in 2013, succeeded in killing a piece of desperately needed (but bad-for-business) anti-hazing legislation in Congress.  That alone would make anyone wonder why an institution - that purports to be charitable - would deploy its resources in such a self-serving way rather than on, say, more meritorious pursuits such as combating homelessness, hunger, poverty or disease? 

In considering the feasibility of reform we should also never forget that the frat organisation responsible for the death of Tim Piazza (see my previous blog) was supposed to be a “reformed” fraternity.  In fact, it was considered a “model” one “reflect[ing] a national perspective on best practices”.  It had strict behavioural guidelines, a no-alcohol policy, live-in adult supervision and video surveillance.  Despite the university’s zero-tolerance policy regarding hazing and Pennsylvania state’s outlawing of such behaviour, the investigation found that fraternity members engaged in sexually humiliating practices and regularly threw parties fuelled with over $1,200 worth of alcohol. This stubborn disregard for campus or state regulation displayed by Beta Theta Pi takes us back to one of frats’ founding traditions and essential purposes - to offer privileged young men a space where they can be free from any form of external regulation or civilised code of conduct.  All Greek life activities are ultimately directed towards that goal.

It seems to me, therefore, that any sensible reform of Greek life institutions would need to be so root and branch that it would actually destroy the essence of what it means to be a fraternity.  This leaves only two realistic choices.  Either fraternities and sororities close voluntarily, or colleges (or even state authorities) abolish them.

I appreciate that many colleges may be reluctant to move in that direction given, for example, that 75% of donations to private universities come from fraternity alumni. But then again, isn’t decency more important than money? Isn’t protecting women from sexual violence more important than money? Isn’t the life of Tim Piazza more important than money? Indeed, isn’t all that what “brotherhood” is truly supposed to mean? 

Feminist Legal Theory and consciousness raising

As the fall semester comes to an end, and we close the book on our Feminist Legal Theory course, I find myself reflecting on the concept of consciousness raising.

Early this semester, our class watched Makers: Women Who Made America. Part of the documentary focused on "consciousness raising," a practice developed by feminists in the 1960's and 1970's. Women affiliated with radical feminist organizations in cities and college communities met together in small groups, selected a topic – such as marriage, housework, careers, sexuality, or motherhood – and took turns sharing their own personal stories and experiences on that topic. As the name suggests, this collective experience of sharing led to each woman's consciousness being raised that her experiences were not isolated or unique to her. As Rita Mae Brown, radical feminist activist, stated, women "began to understand common touch-points in each of these lives. All over America, pretty much spontaneously, almost like spontaneous combustion in college communities and big cities, these groups would develop. And what came out of it was similar problems, similar ways of being treated by the world, and often similar desires. If you were to ask a woman, she would just like to be part of the process. I'd like to have my voice heard, you know?"

Feminist consciousness raising has remained as a legacy of the radical feminist era and, driven by fourth wave feminism, has undergone something of a tech renaissance. No longer confined to in-person gatherings in community centers, living rooms, or college dorms, social platforms like Twitter, Facebook, Tumblr, and Instagram now serve as forums for consciousness raising on a number of feminist issues. Popular campaigns have addressed violence against women (#yesallwomen), the confidence gap between young girls and boys (#banbossy), reproductive autonomy and abortion access (#shoutyourabortion), domestic abuse (#whyistayed), the Women's March post-Trump election (#whyimarch), and most recently sexual harassment (#metoo) ... just to name a few.

The original consciousness raisers of the 60's and 70's faced criticism that their sessions were nothing more than group psychotherapy, myopia, or narcissism. Naysayers continue to complain that the consciousness raising of the social media era is characterized by attention-seeking, laziness, and mere "slacktivism" or "clicktivism" that does little to enact real change.

Of course the skeptics and cynics were, and are, incorrect. The original consciousness raising sessions nurtured a culture of activism. They created an atmosphere where the personal became political, where intimate discussions led to raucous marches and rallies, and where solitude transformed into solidarity. Topics such as workplace equality, abortion, rape, domestic violence, and women's health became less taboo largely because women found the courage to speak out together. Similarly, although social media can potentially silo its users, certain social media movements have demonstrated a power to transcend digital dividing lines and encourage public conversation that results in real world impacts. The #metoo campaign, which corresponded with the public outing of a number of sexual harassers, is a perfect illustration of what can happen when an online movement is embraced by diverse communities and results in actual social change.

It's clear consciousness raising isn't a relic of the past... it's alive and well, and not just online. Our Feminist Legal Theory course has been more than just an academic pursuit. Through our thoughtful questions and discussions, I've had my consciousness raised on feminist issues that intertwine and affect all of our lives... and now is the perfect time. Given our current political moment, where women's issues are under attack, I feel an urgency makes my voice heard on these topics and to make space for others to share.  This semester, I have constantly caught myself in discussions  saying "Actually, someone just talked about this in my Feminist Legal Theory class!" This course has given me a greater understanding of feminist history and a framework for navigating the issues under debate, and for that I am grateful.

Vagina dentata: revisiting Teeth

Mitchell Lichenstein’s 2007 cult-classic, Teeth, recently celebrated its tenth birthday. The film is polarizing for many reasons, when I first tried watching it a few years ago I didn’t make it through the whole thing because I simply didn’t think it was a good movie. The film’s pacing is sporadic, the acting is spotty at best, and movie feels amateurish. Recently I watched the film in its entirety when it popped up on Netflix. Looking back, I now realize that I originally failed to appreciate that the film was worth more than the sum of its parts and that it was accomplishing something truly unique.

Teeth is a black-comedy/horror film following the cleverly named Dawn O’Keefe, a teenager who preaches abstinence largely due to her curious case of vagina dentata. Vagina dentata is exactly what you probably think it is, her vagina has teeth. Despite the film’s plot alluding to the centuries old folklore surrounding vagina dentata, I originally dismissed the idea as a ridiculous fiction constructed to explain the film. It wasn’t until watching the film again recently that I bothered to look up vagina dentata and realized the film’s concept is based on real folktales. As the film suggests, historically the myth of the toothed vagina involved suffering women who needed the help of a male hero to break their curse. In Teeth, Dawn flips these myths on their head.

Teeth opens up with a toddler-aged Dawn sharing a kiddie pool with her step-brother, Brad. Brad exposes himself to Dawn and asks to see what her genitals look like. The next thing we see is Brad crying out in pain, holding out a bloody finger. The insinuation here being that Brad stuck his finger inside Dawn’s vagina and was bitten. The film then fast-forwards to a high-school aged Dawn leading a discussion on virtues of celibacy with her religious abstinence group. Throughout the first third of the film we see Dawn and her friends, outspoken about their beliefs, repeatedly mocked by their peers for their message. Dawn’s parents also don’t understand why their daughter is big on abstinence. We also find out that Brad, Dawn’s step-brother, grew up to be an abusive young man with incestuous fantasies.

Throughout the film we see allusions to how our society treats sex. Dawn and her friends represent one extreme end of society, an abstinent segment which speaks of the immorality of pre-marital sex and warns about damnation to those who break the rules. The school administration presents views not far removed from Dawn’s. In one scene, Dawn is sitting in a high school sexual education class where penises are on open display but all textbook depictions of vaginas are covered with patches. When a student expresses his confusion on the matter, Dawn comes to the teacher’s defense citing that vaginas need to be hidden because, “girls have a natural modesty.” The majority of Dawn’s peers represent the way that the majority of teenagers exist in our society. These students aren’t celibate but they clearly hold misogynist ideas about sex and are desperately misinformed about their own bodies, especially the women. Brad represent another extreme segment in society, the ultra-misogynist segment that’s a constant threat to women. Brad’s room is completely covered by posters of naked or near-naked women, he insists on anal sex with no eye contact, he dehumanizes his girlfriend by trying to make her eat dog food, and he repeatedly sexually assaults Dawn.

I understand the complaints of feminist critics, like those cited by Bella Artiquez of BitchFlicks. It is a little odd to have a feminist hero who doesn’t understand the first thing about her body and is repeatedly taken advantage of by nearly every male she comes in contact with. Dawn is victimized in the film’s first scene by Brad when he sticks his fingers in Dawn’s vagina. She is victimized by a boy in her abstinence group who she trusts when he forces himself on her. She is victimized by her gynecologist who invasively prods her genitals. Even when she finally has sex that is comparatively pleasant, it’s only after she’s been drugged and with a boy who clearly doesn’t respect her in any way. Like Artiquez, I don’t think that any of this should be held against Dawn when it comes to deciding how we view her. It isn’t her fault that she lives in a society that degrades women, that even the men that she trusts end up betraying her, and that neither her parents nor her teachers have taught her the first thing about healthy sex and female anatomy. In fact, I believe all of this makes Dawn even more of a compelling feminist hero. She suffers greatly in a way that countless women suffer on a daily basis yet by the end of the film she flips the script and embraces her “curse.”

After biting off the penises of a few men accidentally, Dawn realizes that she can control her condition. Sick of being taken advantage of, Dawn starts by ripping off the penis of a boy who drugged and raped her. Soon after she turns her sights towards Brad. After taking care of Brad we see Dawn essentially disappear into an unknown future with unknown objectives, the only thing clear being that she’s done being taken advantage of is no longer afraid of using her condition as a means of revenge and self-defense against men. Her condition becomes empowering rather than debilitating.

It is only now, ten years later, that I’ve been able to appreciate Teeth for the value of what it accomplished. Wesley Morris of the Boston Globe puts it nicely;

"Teeth" runs on a kind of angry distrust toward boys. It doesn't think a lot of them, in much the same way certain teen comedies and horror films don't think highly of girls. The reversal is a lot more satisfying to watch, both as a laughing feminist critique of horniness and as a gleeful inversion of the vagina dentata myth.

The film subverts not only horror-genre norms but more broad film norms. As Morris already pointed out above, in Teeth it’s men for once who are disposable. As another viewer points out, it’s also noticeable how Lichenstein had no problem portraying multiple bloody severed penises while showing very little female nudity. This certainly isn’t a norm in film as penises are almost never shown while female nudity is common.

The film remains controversial to this day with people still debating whether the film is actually any good to whether Dawn should be seen as a feminist hero or not. In the lead up to writing this post I came across a recent article by Sirin Kale of Broadly. In her article, Kale shares a conversation she had with Teeth’s producer, Joyce Pierpoline. Pierpoline mentions how people become visibly uncomfortable when she mentions she produced Teeth. She mentions how while pitching the film, she was turned down my almost every studio, with one her managers advised her against sharing the script as men run the industry and they had no interest in a film like Teeth. Even after the crew secured funding for the film, actually creating the movie continued to be difficult. A film commissioner showing the film crew potential locations refused to work with the crew as soon as he read the script. He even went as far as to warn the location managers that the film was pornographic. Additionally, the studio executives forced the filmmakers to present the film as a pure horror movie in the same vein as movies like Saw when the filmmakers wanted to present it as a black comedy. If I was still on the fence about whether I considered this film valuable or not, reading Pierpoline’s comments certainly settled it. Much like Dawn, this film was battered and abused along the way nevertheless it persisted and we’re all better off for it. Regardless of whether this film is technically a “good” film or not, it is incredibly valuable for the conversations it provokes and the norms that it subverts.

When the "good guys" are the harassers

Over the past few months, the media has exploded with claims of sexual harassment made by victims against men in positions of power. The allegations range in severity, from molestation and sexual assault of minors to unwanted sexual advances and "butt-grabbing." Regardless of the details, many of these allegations had common themes running throughout: men abusing their professional, social, and personal power; and victims staying quiet, fearing retaliation, harm to their careers, public shaming, and damage to their reputations.

The tidal wave of sexual assault allegations has not been relegated to one party or industry. The accused come from a variety of careers and political affiliations. As someone who identifies as more politically liberal, this has forced me to contend with my own discomfort as I discovered that many public figures I trusted and respected had acted so terribly. It's easy, even validating, to believe and accept that men like Donald Trump (serial misogynist) and Roy Moore (serial crazy person) have committed acts of sexual assault and sexual harassment. It stings to hear such accusations leveled against Al Franken and John Conyers, Democratic stalwarts and proponents of causes and ideals I identify with and care about. I will admit that even the accusations against Louis C.K. hurt a bit. I was subscribed to his email list and watched all his comedy specials multiple times... but lord knows I'm certainly not laughing now.

I am not the only one dealing with these mixed feelings. In conversations with friends and family, I have heard others express disbelief and even make attempts to justify and mitigate the conduct of these men and others.  These pained responses seem to reflect the cognitive dissonance we are all experiencing... how can a "good guy" have done this?

This cognitive dissonance is playing out in the media as well, as prominent women publicly (and I would argue, clumsily) defend these men. For example, on Meet the Press last week, House Minority leader Nancy Pelosi spoke in support of John Conyers. In doing so, she inadvertently checked boxes for multiple tactics sexual harassers use to undermine their victims and the accusations against them. Pelosi attempted to bolster Conyers' credibility at the victim's expense, portrayed Conyers as the true victim, minimized the severity of Conyers' conduct, and highlighted Conyers' otherwise respectable history of supporting women.

The women of SNL made a similar effort to defend Al Franken. Thirty-six women who worked with Franken at SNL while he was on the show issued a public statement, lightly condemning Franken's behavior as "stupid and foolish" but nonetheless going on to say that none of them had ever experienced sexual harassment from Franken and that Franken "treated each of [them] with the utmost respect and regard." As The Stranger's Anna Kaplan so aptly put it, "All 36 women who were involved with producing the show anywhere from the top down signed the letter to show solidarity and support for him because of how they personally interacted with him. However, maybe one of the most glaring realities that has come out of the past six weeks is that people you think you know, maybe aren’t exactly who you thought they were."

If the #metoo campaign showed us anything, it is that sexual harassment is a pervasive aspect of American culture (regardless of race, class, age, or political affiliation) that has touched a tremendous number of lives. It's only realistic to anticipate that even people we like and love (not just public figures but people we actually know) may have engaged in reprehensible conduct. 

So how should one respond when someone you like and respect is accused of sexual harassment? What is the appropriate way to balance your care for the accused with your concern for the victims? An article recently published on Bustle.com outlined seven productive and empowering steps people can take:

1. Listen to the accuser

2. Laud the survivor for coming forward

3. Don't center your response on your relationship with the harasser

4. Talk to the harasser

5. Offer the harasser actionable advice to improve their conduct

6. Critically evaluate your relationship with the harasser

7. Focus on receiving information rather than merely reacting to information

I strongly identified with this strategy. In following these steps, one can show compassion to the victims of sexual harassment while also recognizing that it's possible (even helpful) to maintain a relationship with the accused. In fact, by standing in solidarity with accusers, and offering honest and critical feedback and advice to the harassers (either in person or in the public sphere), individuals have a valuable opportunity to contribute to ending a culture that condones and encourages such behavior.

Not all public responses to harassment claims have been tone-deaf and inept. One example of a great response came from Sarah Silverman, a comedian and close friend of Louis C.K. In her statement, which ran before an episode of her show on Hulu, she followed some of the steps outlined above. She recognized that it hurt to hear about the things Louis C.K. had done, but also unequivocally stood with his accusers:

 “He wielded his power with women in f—ed up ways, sometimes to the point where they left comedy entirely. I could couch this with heartwarming stories of our friendship and what a great dad he is, but that’s totally irrelevant, isn’t it? Yes, it is. It’s a real mindf*ck, because I love Louis. But Louis did these things. Both of those statements are true. So I just keep asking myself, ‘Can you love someone who did bad things? Can you still love them?’ I can mull that over later certainly, because the only people that matter right now are the victims. They are victims and they are victims because of something he did. So I hope it’s OK that I am, at once, very angry for the women he wronged and the culture that enabled it, and also sad, because he’s my friend. But I believe with all my heart that this moment in time is essential. It’s vital that people are held accountable for their actions, no matter who they are. We need to be better. We will be better. I can’t f—ing wait to be better.”

Suffice it to say, I can't wait either.

Why college fraternities are bad for boys too

Recent exposé documentaries like The Hunting Ground, have shed light on the sexual assault epidemic that has gripped college campuses across the US. Although there is no clear profile of what a sexual predator on campus looks like, statistics have shown that fraternity members are three times more likely than other males to commit rape. This is a startling figure.

In 2014, a BBC correspondent spoke to students in Boulder about the problem. Nearly all those interviewed blamed ‘frat’ culture for encouraging and justifying sexually predatory behaviour amongst their members. Significantly, no spokesperson from any fraternity or Greek Life organisation in Boulder was willing to comment publicly on the issue.

However, one frat member, Edmund, volunteered to give the BBC reporter “the other side to the story”. Edmund defended fraternities, arguing that they are often scapegoated when it comes to incidents of sexual assault. He accused the media and wider student body of misinterpreting fraternity culture. Instead Edmund insisted that college fraternities are “founded on Christian values”. 

When asked about specific instances involving fraternity members, Edmund expressed the opinion that girls who dress in what he called “extremely provocative clothing” and who drink excessive amounts of alcohol at a party are “setting themselves up for a hook-up of sorts”. Edmund was also critical of the affirmative consent requirement under American law, arguing that it means, in reality, that a boy needs a girl’s permission to “unbutton every button on her shirt”. Evidently then, Edmund believes that legally no girl should be allowed to refuse her consent if a boy wishes to undress her. That, to say the least, is a very interesting viewpoint - assuming, of course, it fairly represents what fraternities believe in! 

As far as I see, then, public statements by frat members such as Edmund - and the general frat organisation response (or lack of it) to student and media attacks on Greek life - make it easy for feminists to view fraternity culture as a threat to women. Yet, from what I’ve observed, there seems to be just as good a case for regarding fraternities as a threat to boys as well. 

One aspect of certain fraternity cultures that is gaining increasing public attention is the custom of hazing. Hazing is, apparently, a not uncommon feature of college fraternity initiation. The practice often involves physical violence, sexual coercion, forced alcohol consumption or degrading or dangerous “pranks” such as compelling frat initiates to eat vile food mixtures. All this is seemingly done in the name of tradition and “brotherhood”.

In the US, hazing is known to have resulted in the deaths of 70 male students since 2000. Notably, that figure does not include episodes dismissed as “accidents”. But what is more unsettling is the fact that alcohol and hazing related deaths now appear to be on the increase, despite the banning of such “rituals” in many states. The accounts of these deaths make deeply disturbing reading.

The BBC recently told the story of 19 year old Tim Piazza, a student of Penn State University, who died on 4 February 2017 after taking part in a hazing event for the Beta Theta Pi Fraternity. CCTV surveillance showed that Tim was given at least 18 drinks in the 82 minutes before he fell 15ft down the steps of the fraternity house’s basement. Shockingly, 12 hours were allowed to pass before his “brothers” decided to call emergency services. Medical reports found that Tim had suffered a fractured skull and irreversible traumatic brain injuries. His spleen had ruptured in multiple places, causing extensive internal bleeding and haemorrhagic shock. As a result, 26 fraternity members are now facing charges for involuntary manslaughter. Moreover, since Tim’s death, three other frat members at different US universities have died – two in the last couple of weeks. 

Understandably, stories like those of poor Tim and other victims, have led some colleges to ban hazing and Greek Life altogether. It remains to be seen whether that measure will be successful. Personally, I’m sceptical. Why? Because, to my mind, if boys as well as girls are to be properly protected, we need to recognise, above all else, that hazing is an unavoidable consequence of “hyper-masculine” environments. I know that, even in Irish colleges for example, where there is no such thing as fraternities, hazing still occurs in certain exclusively male clubs and societies. 

It seems, then, that, whilst prohibiting hazing and Greek life is certainly something that all universities should consider doing, it will probably not be enough, by itself, to protect students. We need equally to face the fact that the promises of friendship and camaraderie that fraternities and other exclusively male organisations offer is a great illusion. Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t believe that facilitating young men, at any level, to found their closest friendships on extreme physical and mental abuse is good for them, or for women. Indeed, if this is how boys are encouraged to behave towards those they are meant to call “brothers”, how can we expect them to treat girls with any greater decency?

Pride & Folsom: Revisiting Sexual Practices

A few years back, I attended Folsom Street Fair (Folsom), an event that aims to “unite adult alternative lifestyle communities with safe venues” in SF, while raising funds for charities. I've described Folsom to my friends as a NC-17 version of the larger Pride event that takes place about a month before Folsom. But that’s an oversimplification. While SF Pride (Pride) brands itself as “a celebration of diversity,” the diversity it celebrates is distinct from and privileged relative to the diversity Folsom embraces.

Admittedly, I enjoy Pride because it celebrates sexual and gender diversity. And what kind of self-hating joto (queer) would I be if I repudiated an event that welcomes other press-on nail wearing queers with open arms! Yet, I find Pride to be a politically sanitized event because it fails to acknowledge that folks are stigmatized not only based on sexual orientation, but also according to their sexual practices. Instead, Folsom is relegated the heavy lifting on that front.  

Attending Folsom is a visceral reminder that homosexuality is a recent social construct, a product of modernity. Indeed, homosexuals haven’t existed throughout history, even if there have always been individuals who’ve engaged (exclusively) in homosexual sexual behavior. Only when homosexuality became an identity, could individuals identify as gay. Today’s Catholic Catechism illustrates the distinction: the Church welcomes homosexuals, but repudiates and admonishes homosexual sexual practices. Under this “love the sinner but not the sin” logic, individuals who are exclusively homosexual and would, presumably, engage only in homosexual sexual practices are “called to chastity.” Notably, the church categorizes homosexual sexual practices as “sins contrary to chastity,” alongside masturbation, and pornography. Folsom, too, reminds us that perhaps what matters, and merits destigmatization, are folks sexual practices, and not only their sexual orientations or gender identities.

The last time I attended Folsom, it was a packed event. My friends and I had to jostle about the crowd to see the exhibits, which are meant to be educational, and pleasurable for the instructors/participants—and some spectators. There were exhibits on BDSM, Shibair/Kinbaku, pup play, erotic wrestling, and latex/rubber play, among others. On that day, Kink.com, a fetish porn studio that promotes consent, accountability, and inclusiveness in adult entertainment, dominated the main stage. My friends and I were instantly amused by the spectacle of a naked, leashed, and handcuffed, man in his 30s, and on his knees, being humiliated by a petite brunette dominatrix wearing a pencil skirt and stiletto heels. She directed the naked man to call her “mistress” throughout the performance, and demanded that he lick her heels as she walked him across the stage. She also asked the hundreds of spectators and passersby to humiliate the man by having them collectively shout “bitch” at him several times throughout the performance.

My friends and I were entertained and puzzled by the events unfolding on stage and rippling through the audience. I wondered: had onlookers gone from being mere spectators to active participants in a public sex act? After all, the onlookers followed the dominatrix's command, and contributed to the leashed man’s humiliation, from which he, apparently, derived sexual pleasure. Besides blurring/queering the line between intimate and public sex acts, and the acceptable and the fetishized, the show reminded me that the social progress associated with sexual practices among consenting adults has not kept pace with social progress in the gender and sexuality fronts. It’s not surprising, then, that Folsom is a smaller event that even some Pride attendees would, ironically, regard as perverted. 

In short, while Pride embraces all sinners, it doesn’t do nearly enough as Folsom does to subvert the sins according to which many Pride attendees continue to be judged by. And this should concern feminists because the right to fuck whichever consenting adult one wants should not be (morally) superior to fuck however one wants. 

The "Motherhood Penalty"

Because of the normative conceptions of what a “normal” family looks like and what a “normal” mother is (e.g. SNAF-encoded households), women are faced with a two-fold set of obstacles that inhibit them from reducing the wage disparity between men and women. The first obstacle is the unequal distribution of labor within the private sphere, which burdens mothers with a disproportionate amount of household chores (the “second shift”). The second obstacle is the culturally perceived tension between what it means to be an “ideal worker” and what it means to be an “ideal mother” (the “motherhood penalty”).

As stated by Dorothy Edith Smith in The Standard North American Family: SNAF as an Ideological Code, SNAF is a normative conception of the family as a legally married couple sharing a household. Within this household there are distinctive roles for both the adult male and adult female. The male participates in paid employment to fulfill his role as the primary breadwinner of the family, whereas the female may or may not participate in paid labor.

Under the ideological code of SNAF, it is not necessary for the female to make income, because her primary responsibility is to take care of the husband, child, and household. As such, her potential income is merely viewed as supplementary.

As a result, women who take work outside their household duties are not viewed as standard, and are considered to be deviating from the normal structure of the nuclear family. Because of the primary identification of women as mothers and being primarily concerned with the rearing of children, the burden of caring for the child is placed entirely upon the mother.

Additionally, a mothers formal identification with caretaker often times lead into their decision to not pursue professional careers, which directly contributes to the unequal pay between men and women. The most frustrating aspect of this dilemma is that women feel the need to choose between either marriage or work, whereas men operate under the assumption that they can have both. Namely, because they do not have to be burdened with the household affairs

Shelley J. Correll in Getting a Job: Is There a Motherhood Penalty, argues that in addition to workplace discrimination based on sex, mothers face an additional penalty because of their status characteristic as mothers, called the “motherhood penalty”. This occurs because the salient feature of “motherhood” is a devalued status characteristic in the eyes of prospective employers, due to the perceived tension between the normative conceptions of “ideal mother” and “ideal worker”. What it means to be an “ideal worker” is the ability to devote endless amounts of hours to one's work, whereas what it means to be an “ideal mother” is to devote oneself entirely to her family and children.

Accordingly, in the eyes of employers, mothers are not ideal candidates for employment and are discriminated against for their status as a mother. When evaluating a candidate, Correll argues that employers judge “performance capacity” upon two criteria: competence (ability) and effort (commitment). Mothers are viewed as lacking in both criteria due to the aforementioned conceptions of mothers.

Structuring her experiment around these ideas, Correll’s lab experiment showed that when all other status characteristics were held constant, (e.g. race, class, gender) whereas “motherhood” was made salient, the results confirmed the hypothesis of the motherhood penalty. Mothers as opposed to non-mothers were hired at a lower rate, were offered lower starting salaries, and were also less likely to be considered for promotion. Also, in support of the SNAF-encoded nuclear family, fathers were offered a higher initial salary as opposed to non-fathers, probably because of the belief that fathers should be the primary bread winners and support the family financially.

Thus, we can see how the cultural beliefs of the normal family serves as an obstacle in the fight against unequal wage distribution between men and women. Primarily by i) restricting women from participating in the workplace because of being overburdened with work in the household and ii) facing real and material consequences for being labeled as mothers.

The 'feminist' trend AW17

Whether you’ve a lifetime subscription to Vogue, or dress in a burlap sack and couldn’t really care less about fashion, New York Fashion Week post-Trump was of particular import. Almost overnight, the makers and wearers of haute couture, who rarely concern themselves with the struggles of mere mortals, adopted a political agenda. From Tommy Hilfiger to Calvin Klein, apparel appeared to become the new vehicle for social change. Designers printed bold statements on t-shirts, blouses, sweaters, even on underwear, denouncing some of Trump’s most divisive executive orders, from the immigration ban, to the 'wall', to cuts to Planned Parenthood funding.

The plight of women, however, seemed to be a hot topic for many designers to capitalize on. The Nepalese-American designer Prabal Gurung wrapped up his AW17 collection with a display of printed t-shirts proclaiming ‘Nevertheless, she persisted’, ‘Girls just want to have fundamental rights’ and took his final bow sporting a t-shirt splashed with ‘This is what a feminist looks like’. The American designer Adam Lippes unfurled signs reading ‘Adam Lippes stands with Planned Parenthood’ and ‘Girl Power’ outside of his show. I had a feeling Maria Grazia Chiruri’s ‘We should all be feminists’ début as the first female artistic director for Dior would be the overture to this feminist ‘trend’ of 2017. Chiruri drew inspiration for this simplistic design in her Spring 2017 collection from the influential feminist Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie.

With a price tag of $710 for a printed cotton t-shirt, can we really all afford to be feminists? While I understand and appreciate the awareness many of these designers are attempting to create around feminism in a post-Trump landscape, it’s the disturbing anti-feminist trickle-down effect of many of these designs that I see as problematic.

While many luxury designers may escape scrutiny of their production methods since their garments are costly, created by hand and tend not to be produced in bulk, it’s the much-loved and familiar high-street brands harbouring more ominous secrets. Type in ‘slogan tee’ or ‘printed tee’ into the website search bars of H&M, Forever 21, Topshop, Urban Outfitters, Nike, Primark and many, many more fast fashion brands. One thing becomes apparent. The trend for feminist apparel is no longer confined to the catwalks of New York Fashion Week. ‘Feminism is for everyone’, ‘Revolution♀’, ‘Girls supporting girls’, ‘Fight like a girl’, ‘Equality’ and ‘Girl power’ were all popular buys. Yet somehow I doubt that by buying an overpriced ‘Power to the girls’ t-shirt (that you can frankly make yourself), will put an end to the sexism that is endured in this world. If anything, you may be contributing to the problem.

The 2015 Netflix documentary ‘The True Cost’ is an exposé of the many environmental and social injustices that are borne out of the $3 trillion fashion industry. When we look at the price tag on a t-shirt or a sweater, we’re often blind to the hidden cost behind the perceived bargain we think we’re getting. We often don’t see the many, many hands that have touched these garments. The hands that are being forced to work in inhumane factory conditions because they have no better employment alternative, with little to no workers’ rights, being paid well below a living wage, often forced to forfeit their families, health and sometimes even their lives as we saw in the case of the Rana Plaza garment factory collapse in Bangladesh. And all for what? So we can buy cheap clothes to satiate some innate desire, only to discard of them when the next trend comes rolling in?

America only makes about 3% of its own clothes, meaning garment production is frequently outsourced to impoverished countries so desperate for the work supplied by these goliath corporations that their governments routinely hold down workers’ wages to prevent companies finding a cheaper alternative and relocating. While it’s clear that the garment industry, the most labour dependent industry in the world, doesn’t solely exploit women, but men and children too, one cannot deny that women in these impoverished countries are hit the hardest by these working conditions, with women making up over 85% of the workforce.

To cite an excerpt from H&M’s ‘sustainability’ tab on their website;

“H&M group helps to create jobs, consequently lifting people out of poverty, and contributing to economic growth and improved standards of living… About two-thirds of these jobs are undertaken by women. For many women, this is their first job that provides an income, their first work outside the home and therefore a first step to independence.”

Sounds very wholesome, doesn’t it? The reality is large corporations such as H&M or any of the brands listed above, can afford to make these grand, vague statements because they don’t directly employ the workers that end up being exploited. They can keep themselves at arms length from the 'dirty' business of factory collapses, structural defects, underpaid workers and increasingly negative health effects of sweltering, overcrowded factory floors, as their products are sourced from 'independent suppliers'. All that this shift of blame results in is avoiding any and all responsibility while at the same time reaping colossal financial benefits from cheap labor. Many of these large corporations also blocked the Decent Working Conditions and Fair Competition Act, which tried to “prohibit the import, export, and sale of goods made with sweatshop labor”, citing that it would be an impediment to free trade. The message is clear, profits before people.

With companies refusing to implement any solid legislative protection for workers, or prohibition of goods produced by sweatshop labor, all that is in place are voluntary ‘codes of conduct’ which companies can elect to undertake, and even if they don’t, or fail to see them through, they’ll face little to no punitive consequences.

I can’t help but think about the women sitting in a garment factory in Bangladesh or Cambodia, earning less than $3 a day and stitching the words ‘Girl power’ or ‘Equality’ onto t-shirts without finding the situation to be quite perverse. One poignant, yet resonating line from 'The True Cost', spoken by a female Bangladeshi factory worker lingered with me; "I don't want anyone wearing anything that is produced by our blood". We may think we’re empowering one another by wearing t-shirts with feminist slogans on them, however if they originate from a patriarchal and capitalist system in which thousands of women are forced to work in inhumane conditions for a pittance, then the irony is overwhelming.

On MSM, Femininity, and Fags

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What might the first female American President look like?

Donald Trump’s victory over Hilary Clinton in last year’s American presidential election came as a huge shock to many feminists both in the US and beyond. Like many around the world, I found myself consumed by this fascinating and controversial race. Had Hillary been elected, she would have been the first female President of the US. 

Despite the disappointment that some liberals and feminists felt at the result, it seems to be largely taken for granted among women I meet that there will be a female (liberal or conservative) in the White House someday. This has led me to wonder what kind of future female President would prove a good role model for women both in America and around the world. 

As an Irish person who, before August of this year, had never been to the US, I cannot claim to be an expert in American politics. My perspective therefore is merely that of a respectful “outsider looking in,” and is based on experience and knowledge of my own country, Ireland.

In Ireland we can claim some pedigree when it comes to women Presidents. Two of our last three Presidents have been females, Mary Robinson (1990-97) and Mary McAleese (1997-2011). Of course, unlike America, Ireland is no superpower. Our international profile could never equal that of the US. Irish Government also works differently to here. Our Presidents are more figureheads than politicians, with the political role kept separate and played by the Taoiseach (Prime Minister). This is very different to America where the President combines both the figurehead and political functions. All this makes comparisons between the two offices neither easy nor always reasonable.

Nevertheless, I feel that Ireland’s two past female Presidents merit at least some consideration as good role models for feminists and any future, aspiring American woman President. Both Robinson and McAleese played pivotal roles in transforming Ireland into a more liberal, peaceful and inclusive society. In their own different ways, too, each showed examples of compassion, courage and sincerity that, to my mind, ought to resonate with all women. 

On a personal level, I initially came to admire Robinson because she was the first Head of State of any country to visit my own native West Belfast. This was an area whose people had been devastated by the Irish ‘Troubles’ of the 1960s to mid-90s and which had become deeply embittered by decades-long marginalization and repression. In the teeth of establishment outrage, Robinson went into West Belfast and publicly praised the spirit of its long suffering community. She also, on her visit, met with and shook hands with the community’s then infamous elected representative, Sinn Féin’s Gerry Adams. It was a vital and key first step in the Irish peace process.

Likewise, Robinson challenged traditional Irish nationalist shibboleths by becoming the first Irish President both to visit the United Kingdom and to meet, at Buckingham Palace, a British monarch, the present Queen Elizabeth II. On foot of this, she welcomed senior members of the British royal family, most notably the Prince of Wales, to her official residence in Dublin, Áras an Uachtaráin. These were bold moves that dramatically changed the face of existing Anglo-Irish relations.

For me, though, the most compelling example Robinson gave us of a great female Presidential role model came in 1992. She was one of the first world leaders, at that time, to highlight publicly the horrors of famine and genocide in Somalia and Rwanda. After personally visiting, over 3 days, thousands of sick and dying refugees across the region, a visibly tearful and shaken Irish woman President stood before the press cameras and famously declared:- 

“I’m sorry that I cannot be entirely calm speaking to you, because I have such a sense of what the world must take responsibility for.”

Her words and demeanour on this occasion shamed the West into action and led to the first concerted international humanitarian response to the Somalian and Rwandan crises.

Robinson’s successor, Mary McAleese, during her time in office, worked tirelessly to address issues of sectarianism and violence in the north of Ireland through an openly declared policy of “building bridges”. Picking up the mantle of her predecessor, McAleese invited Britain’s Queen Elizabeth to make a first ever state visit to the Republic of Ireland in 2011 – a move that initially discomfited some Irish Republicans but ultimately helped open a new door - not necessarily of agreement - but certainly respect and understanding between them and the British Royal Family. 

Early in her Presidency, McAleese also incurred the wrath of the then powerful, male dominated Catholic hierarchy in Ireland by accepting communion in an Anglican church. Although a devout Catholic herself, McAleese saw the move in the context of Ireland’s long history of religious conflict. For her, respecting and representing Irish people of different religious traditions was a core, and hugely important, responsibility of her office. 

It was a similar sense of duty that impelled McAleese, as President, to call for the complete deconstruction of homophobia in Ireland. In a broadcast from Áras an Uachtaráin (Ireland’s equivalent to an Oval Office) McAleese endorsed the Irish LGBT rights campaign and praised campaigners for working to bring fully to fruition the country’s founding Proclamation that “all the children of the nation shall be cherished equally”. In 2010 she signed into law the state’s first legislation recognising the validity of same sex relationships (civil partnerships). Within 5 years of this, attitudes to LGBT people in Ireland had changed so dramatically that the country, by popular referendum, voted to amend the Irish constitution to allow for same sex marriage. The extent of the shift in Irish social attitudes that McAleese helped bring about is no better testified than by the appointment, just last June, of Ireland's first openly gay Taoiseach (Prime Minister), Leo Varadakar. It is an extraordinary change in a country formerly dominated by the Catholic church.

It seems to me, then, that in order to become a great role model for women in the US and across the world, the first American woman President should consider becoming a transforming President, at least in the spirit of Robinson and McAleese. Ireland is, of course, a tiny country. But perhaps women from even a great country, like the US, who aspire to great political office, like the American President, can sometimes look towards a small country and draw some inspiration? Perhaps too, that first American woman President, when she takes office, might be able to connect, in some way, with the thoughts of Mary Robinson, after she was elected Ireland’s first woman President:-

“I must be a President for all the people, but more than that, I want to be a President for all the people. Because I was elected by men and women of all parties and none, by many with great moral courage, who stepped out from the faded flags of the Civil War and voted for a new Ireland, and above all by the women of Ireland, mná na hÉireann, who instead of rocking the cradle, rocked the system. And who came out massively to make their mark on the ballot paper and on a new Ireland.”

Airing Ireland's dirty linen

Moving to America has made me realise how proud I am to be Irish. While my migration to Davis was inherently daunting, the fear and uncertainty about being so far away from home has been tempered by the genuine warmth of those who detect even the slightest hint of my accent. In many ways, it has helped me combat the sense of feeling like an outsider.

While I consider it a privilege that the utterance of my nationality enjoys a largely positive reception, my absence from Ireland has imparted on me a large deal of objectivity in it’s assessment, particularly from a feminist perspective. The reality is, although I’m proud of certain facets of my Irish identity, as a woman I’m also deeply embarrassed by it.

Earlier last week, a New York Time’s video titled ‘The lost children of Tuam’ circulated my Facebook newsfeed. This deeply poignant video documents the discovery, and subsequent cover up of a mass burial chamber, where the remains of at least 796 ‘illegitimate’ children and infants were dumped by the Bon Secours sisters in an act of what can only be described as pure sacrilege. You see, the Republic of Ireland, since its nascence in the early 20th Century, has been ensnared and indoctrinated by the Catholic Church. The result? The systemic enslavement and abuse of thousands of unmarried mothers in ‘mother and baby homes’, otherwise known as Magdalene Laundries, which were run by four religious orders of the Catholic Church and covertly financed by the Irish State.

The Magdalene Laundries have left a gaping wound across the social and political landscape of modern Ireland. Often referred to as Magdalene Asylums, they appeared on the surface to be institutions where women were expected to work in a laundry in return for bed, board and atonement for their sins. Behind this façade a different story. The nuns that ran these laundries quietly profited off washing the linen of local wealthy families while at the same time physically, emotionally and spiritually abusing these women.

They functioned as institutions for ‘fallen women’, so firmly believed to be in the clutches of depravity for daring to, or having the misfortune of becoming pregnant outside of marriage. With contraception only barely being legalised in Ireland in 1980 (another string of society the master puppeteer Church controlled), accidental pregnancies, not to mention pregnancies arising from the abhorrent acts of rape and incest, were almost inevitable. Among these “fallen women” were sufferers of mental health illnesses as well as women with petty criminal convictions, however the vast majority of those enslaved were unmarried mothers averaging at the tender age of 23.

The short film gives a voice to some of the survivors of this particular mother and baby home in Tuam. One man painfully detailed that when his mother had gotten pregnant outside of marriage “the priest in the parish got to hear about it and told her parents that it was an awful disgrace. That she couldn’t be seen out because she’d be a bad influence”. I assure you, this was not an isolated incident. We have to remember that practically until the turn of the 21st Century, the Catholic Church ruled supreme in Ireland. A priest paying attention to a particular person or a particular family was akin to God himself sitting down with you for tea. This monopoly on society meant that a priest telling a family how disgraceful their daughter was would often garner a visceral reaction of shame and disgust, resulting in their ‘beloved’ daughter being coerced into a mother and baby home in order to escape the toxic scrutiny of the insular Irish society. Almost always the families were told the same lie; “the nuns would look after her there”.

While the government closed this particular mother and baby home in Tuam in 1961, it continued to operate similar homes across the country right up until 1996. I wouldn’t have enough space in this post to fully detail the abuses women faced at the hands of the supposedly ‘trusted’ clergy, however at least 23,000 unmarried women were put in these homes and forced to give up their infants. Whether they were starved, neglected, left to fester in their own waste, smothered, beaten or illegally bartered off to rich American families, their children were most brutally punished for being the fruits of a perceived union of ‘sin’. They were punished for the innocence of their mere existence.

I was born a year after the last laundry was shut. However, growing up in a supposed ‘post-laundry’ landscape doesn’t rid the horrors from Irish memories or consciences. In 2013, our former Taoiseach Enda Kenny was moved to tears in the Dáil while issuing a formal apology to all women whose suffering had long gone unnoticed. This apology was accompanied by a plan to provide reparations to the few remaining survivors of the laundries, with the Church so piously refusing to contribute.  However, it was not until February 2017 that the mass grave in Tuam was addressed by Kenny in the Dáil;

“No nuns broke into our homes to kidnap our children. We gave them up to what we convinced ourselves was the nuns' care. We gave them up maybe to spare them the savagery of gossip, the wink and the elbow language of delight in which the holier than thous were particularly fluent.... Indeed for a while it seems as if in Ireland our women had the amazing capacity to self impregnate”.

While State-issued apologies can do little more than affirm an injustice was committed, I struggle with the fact that my country propagated such a disgraceful, inhumane treatment of women merely because society deemed them to have "fallen". It’s a topic I can do little justice to in a blog post other than highlight its existence. However, to end almost where I began, in times such as these when I find myself marooned from home undergoing bouts of homesickness, I can’t neglect this. As a feminist, my national pride is wholly eclipsed by the embarrassment flowing from my country’s acts against women, and no number of Americans warmly telling me what percentage Irish heritage they are will ever override that embarrassment.

Roy Moore, females, and small-town access to justice

Media accounts sometimes implicate rural access-to-justice issues, though the connection is not always obvious at first blush.  Perhaps no story better illustrates this point than the recent allegations against the candidate for U.S. Senate from Alabama, Roy Moore.  Moore, a small-town lawyer turned-twice-removed Alabama Supreme Court justice, is now facing multiple allegations of inappropriate conduct with underage women in the 1970s.  Many have asked why the women (girls, some of them, at the time) did not come forward sooner.  I assert that the answer to this question lies in the complex barriers that have long deterred those in rural communities from pursuing legal redress.

By now, we are all familiar with the allegations against Alabama Senate Republican nominee Roy Moore. The salacious accounts, initially published by the Washington Post, paint Moore as an opportunistic predator who used his power and influence in the small city of Gadsden, Alabama as a means to attract and "romance" teenage girls. A report from a former co-worker notes that Moore's affairs with teenage girls were "common knowledge." Moore himself issued a sloppily worded defense on Sean Hannity's program, where he stated that he could not deny that he had dated teenage girls in the past.

Many, including Moore himself, have asked why these women would wait four decades to come forward with their stories. Steve Bannon has even accused Washington Post owner Jeff Bezos of engaging in a  conspiracy to destroy Moore's candidacy. The people who ask these questions seem  ignorant of the social dynamics of tight-knit rural communities and the secrecy that can often times be fostered by these communities.

As the WaPo story notes, Moore was seen as a local hero. Like many rural communities, Gadsden (population 37,000), has been in a state of decline brought upon it by a loss of manufacturing jobs.  With opportunities few and far between, the fact that Moore had managed to gain admission to West Point and then to law school was seen as an inspiration to the people of the town. As is common in many rural communities, being a lawyer also conferred a certain amount of social capital upon Moore. The level of admiration for Moore was such that when Debbie Wesson Gibson asked for her mother's permission to date Moore, her mother told that she would be the "luckiest girl in the world" if Moore, then 34, were interested in her.

To make allegations against Roy Moore in 1970s Alabama would have been a tremendous uphill climb for anyone, much less a teenager. Even his co-workers viewed Moore's tendency to date teenagers as essentially a personality quirk, not anything that warranted investigation and possible prosecution. As Moore himself noted in his interview with Sean Hannity, he never dated a girl without her mother's permission. The WaPo story even notes an instance where Moore stopped dating a girl when her mother did not give permission for the relationship to continue. From the evidence presented, it seems that Moore was careful to target girls whose parents were okay with the age difference and at least, in one case, encouraged the relationship to continue.

In small towns, relationships and social standing are both very important forms of currency. In sociologist Cynthia Duncan's book Worlds Apart, Duncan tells a story about a young man in a small town in Appalachia that is able to secure a bank loan with no questions asked because of a familial relationship with a person with whom the banker had done business.  The young man's relationships and social standing made him inherently trustworthy and conferred upon him a certain amount of credibility. Roy Moore was certainly a beneficiary of being seen as trustworthy because of his social standing as well.

The standing of women in Alabama in this time period also presented a barrier. The most famous illustration of this from Alabama came from 1961 when Alabama First Lady Lurleen Wallace was diagnosed with uterine cancer. As was standard practice at the time, the doctor told only her husband, Governor George Wallace, who then insisted that the diagnosis be kept from his wife. First Lady Wallace did not find out that she had cancer until 1965. Wallace would later die from this cancer during her own term as governor, which she was serving as a surrogate for her term-limited husband.

If the First Lady of Alabama was seen as so lowly that a cancer diagnosis was hidden from her, what hope would a young girl in a small town have of successfully seeking justice against a respected local attorney?  indeed, against the local district attorney/prosecuting attorney?

Another barrier is the lack of general knowledge of how to avail oneself to the protections of the legal system. In 1969, the Duke University Law Review conducted a study on the legal issues of the rural poor. Their focus was an unnamed county in eastern North Carolina. What they found was that a very small percentage of people sought legal action when wronged by either the government or another private party. The study also found that many of them were unaware that they could even do so.

The idea that Roy Moore would have been prosecuted for his actions in 1970s Alabama is laughable at best.  Moore was insulated by a culture that knew of his actions but did not take action to stop them.  He was also enabled by parents who felt that dating Moore was advantageous for their daughters, regardless of the implications of the age difference. In a small city going through economic turmoil, Moore was seen as a shining light, proof that you could escape your circumstances and make something of yourself. The notion that the credibility of the accusers is impeached by their "failure" to come forward 40 years ago is intellectually dishonest.

While Moore's actions are egregious and--we would hope--atypical of any community, they do point to the vulnerability of people who are facing injustices and have nowhere to turn. As the Duke study notes, the issue of justice in rural communities has long been hampered by a lack of resources and knowledge of the legal system. While many communities have access to civil legal aid programs that can help people, particularly victims of domestic violence, seek protective orders and other remedies against abusers, many of those programs are increasingly facing cuts on the state and federal level. In fact, President Donald Trump's proposed budget from earlier this year called for the elimination of the LSC, which provides grants to legal aid programs.

Before asking why these women did not come forward 40 years ago, perhaps we should examine the barriers that made doing so effectively impossible.

Another post about Roy Moore and rurality is here.

Cross-posted to Legal Ruralism.  By Christopher Chavis 

Double Eye Lid Surgery – What's The Big Deal?

Korean-Americans have a fascination with double-eyelid surgery. For some second generation Korean-American females, it is considered a rite of passage to undergo the surgical procedure at the age of eighteen. I remember on the eve of my sister’s eighteenth birthday, our mother told my sister that money had been set aside to pay for the elective surgery – if my sister wanted the procedure. Our family did not grow up with a lot of money, with little to no savings to speak of. The mere fact that our parents had specifically earmarked money for the sole purpose of an elective surgery spoke volumes. The normative subtext of our mother’s statement becomes clearer situated in this context: you should get this surgery.

In Medicalization of Racial Features: Asian American Women and Comestic Surgery, Eugeina Kaw offers a descriptive account of the phenomenon of double eyelid surgery, and its social implications. Kaw provides a thorough analysis of how and why Asian-American women feel compelled into getting plastic surgery, mainly for reconstruction of the nose and the eyes.

Her views on the strict racialization of facial features and what this racialization leads to, hinges on three key aspects: (i) the “cultural and institutional structures” of a society (namely the medical field and media), (ii) the effects of a consumer orientated society, and (iii) the “internalization of racial and gender stereotypes”. Kaw further argues that these different aspects work together in order to influence Asian-American women into feeling the need obtain a more “American” look.

Let me first begin by posing a two-part question: does the medical field and cosmetic field work in conjunction to create a particular definition of beauty and if they do, how and why do Asian-American women buy into the mold of beauty that defines the “Asian” look as undesirable?

Kaw argues that the medical field, in conjunction with a consumer orientated society, does in fact shape the way people in a society come to think about what it means to appear beautiful. Eugeina Kaw believes that Asian-American women learn to associate the characteristic Asiatic facial features with negative traits such as: passivity, dullness, a lacking of expression, and slow wit. As a result of Asian-American women correlating their facial features (flat nose, “slanty eyes”) with negative traits, they “strive for a face with larger eyes and a more prominent nose,” which Kaw argues can be understood as wanting a more “American” face. These associations that Asian-American women make can be attributed to the fact that they have been continually exposed to racial stereotypes through two main socializing agents: family and media.

For example, when my sister was a junior in high school, my aunt and mother persuaded my sister to get the double eyelid surgery during her summer visit to Korea. My sister said at that age, she was easily persuaded into getting the surgery because she personally believed that “American” looking eyes were more attractive than the shape of “Asian” eyes. It seemed as if her readiness to accept the surgery stemmed from her over-exposure to American media and the transmission of cultural values that my aunt and mother held (family as a socializing agent).*

The strength of this cultural learning is only reinforced by the manner in which the medical field perpetuates these racial ideologies that influences Asian-American women to associate negative traits with their natural facial features. Although, the medical professionals never hint at the fact overtly, it is subtly implied in the way doctors describe “Asian” facial features. Terminology and phraseology such as “the absence of of the palpebral fold produces a passive expression which seems to epitomize the stoical and unemotional manner of the Oriental”, expresses the view that medical knowledge is based off of “scientific rationality”. By referring to science as their justification for such characterizations, and using medical terminology, they protect themselves from racial criticisms by hiding behind the “veil of objectivity” of the medical field.

If we were to embrace the view that Asian-American women are being subtly influenced into conforming to the Western standard of beauty, what possible solutions are there to regain autonomy and empowerment? Referring back to my sister, as she became more knowledgeable in the field of sociology and Asian-American studies, her views on double eyelid surgery drastically changed. She began to despise the fact that she had undergone the surgery, and realized her decision to get the double eyelids was heavily influenced by problematic external factors. 

*I recognize that I may be editorializing here, in an attempt to shoehorn my sister’s experiences within Eugeina Kaw’s framework. 

Queer signaling and femme invisibility

Is there a "right way" to be queer? Queer theory advocates subversion, transgression, destabilization, and volatility in the face of dominant hetero-patriarchal norm. It supports those who fall outside the boundaries of "proper sexual desire, gender performance, and anatomical form." It is, essentially, anti-essentialist. As a result, one could argue, it cannot/does not require any particular set of attributes, behaviors, or beliefs. However, I find myself questioning that conclusion.

In 1995, queer theorist David Halperin complained: “There is now a right way to be queer ... to invert the norms of straight society." His implication was that queerness had been commodified and distilled down to a particular image. Consider, for example, the image of an impeccably dressed and groomed fit gay man (later commodified for straight men as "metrosexual") or the image of an androgynous L.A. lesbian (think Shane from The L Word with her transgressive short haircuts and masculine or agendered clothing, or even Ellen Degeneres).

While the ethos of queer theory suggests there is no "right way" to be queer, the reality is that a large contingent of queer culture has adopted its own signaling practices and image standards. It is difficult to identify as queer based solely on sexual identity or desire. Rather, one must “perform” as queer in a manner that not only identifies you as queer for the outside world, but indicates to the queer community that you are "one of us."

This system, of course, has ramifications for those that don't choose to perform or conform to queer identifiers. I can speak specifically from my perspective as a queer woman who generally presents heteronormatively (on the more feminine side of the spectrum... aka a "femme"). I have never had short hair, I like getting my nails done and wearing makeup, and I frequently wear heels and dresses when I go out or to formal social events. I am generally only identified as (or suspected to be) queer when I am with an obviously queer partner or engaging in transgressive activities (for example, when I played rugby, a decidedly "non-feminine" sport, in college). These choices aren't made for convenience's sake. I am not actively trying to "pass" in straight society. While I am aware that my preferences are largely shaped by gender expectations of the society I grew up in, they are still my preferences, and I have no desire to "queer up" my look.

Not presenting as outwardly queer has obvious benefits. I am allowed a pass in spaces where visible queerness might be a profound social or professional obstacle – or even where it might be dangerous. It's easier for me to find clothing that reflects my own personal style and is made with women's curves in mind. I can use the women's restroom without being questioned or yelled at (a sadly common experience for my past girlfriends). However, this choice comes also comes with challenges. "Looking straight" means I must constantly "come out" to people – people at my job, people at school, to men who are interested in dating, and in just about every other social situation where I am meeting individuals for the first time. It means being asked to explain and justify my sexual identity to clueless people who assert "you just don't look gay." At the same time, without outward queer identifiers, I find I am also invisible to or discounted by other members of the queer community (a phenomenon identified as "femme erasure"). As a result I often find myself uncomfortably straddling the line between heteronormative culture and queer culture, feeling part of – yet also apart from – both.

Another challenge faced by queer women who present as femme is that they remain subject to dominant or toxic masculinity, not just from cis-men, but from members of the queer community who have retained or adopted practices that subjugate the feminine. When I dated more androgynous or butch women, others often assumed that I was the passive partner in the relationship. Restaurant bills would be put in front of my partners. While car shopping, salesmen first approached my partner who came with me. Past partners were invited by men to participate in activities that excluded or marginalized femme women (think strip clubs, cigars, golf), or were treated as inherently more intelligent, driven, or professional, simply as a result of their having a more masculine presentation.

Misogyny percolates into dating and relationships between femmes and other queer women too. Femmes are often expected to play the traditional feminine role, which involves taking on a disproportionate amount of housework/cooking or doing the majority of the emotional labor in the relationship. Some past partners assumed that if the relationship progressed I would be comfortable with my career taking a backseat, that I would take my partner's last name, or that I would spend more time at home with any kids that might enter the picture.

This is not to say that femmes are by and large dismissed as pariahs in the queer community, but it is interesting to see how sexism persists even in a movement that purports to reject patriarchy, gender barriers, and other expressions of heteronormativity. However, an increased movement among queer folks to make the community more inclusive of and welcoming to femmes heartens me. In fact, the butch community (the other end of the spectrum) has produced some of the femme community's strongest allies. I look forward to seeing how this movement plays out and evolves within the greater queer community over time.