Gendered housework keeps grown men dependent on the women in their life

There are a lot of things that toxic masculinity takes away from people who identify as male. One of the most common ways in which we see toxic masculinity performed is men’s refusal to associate with things they deem “too feminine.” Men refuse to enter women’s clothing stores, they repress their emotions, they don’t do “women’s work,” and they regularly make fun of other men who do. Sometimes, it goes so far as to diminish their quality of life, but they will still refuse to let go of this “masculine” perspective.

My mother has always firmly believed that each person should have some basic life skills. For her, this includes anything you would need to know in order to live by yourself such as cooking, cleaning, laundry, sewing, and being able to do odd jobs around the house. For a lot of people, most of this is considered “women’s work.” In my house, it was just work. I would go to school as a young child and hear that other people’s moms handled the cooking and cleaning at their houses. When I mentioned to a classmate that I was responsible for doing the dishes each evening after dinner, he looked at me in shock and said that he had never even picked up his dishes from the dinner table before. It was probably because I’m a girl, he said. Boys don’t do housework.

According to my mother, that was pure laziness. My younger brother did just as much as I did, growing up and learning all of those same life skills as me. Every family member was responsible for their own mess, everyone was expected to help prepare meals, and every Saturday was cleaning day. On cleaning day, the whole family would divide up tasks and clean the whole house, top to bottom. No one was allowed to make other plans on Saturday afternoons, and only after finishing could you leave to do something else. She believes that it is important for each individual, regardless of gender, to be self-sufficient. She didn’t want us to have to depend on others to help us handle basic everyday tasks. For her, this was about growing up and being responsible adults. I got so used to seeing my brother work right alongside me that I forgot that other families, especially Panjabi families, don’t operate like that.

It wasn’t until I began college that I realized just how unprepared some people are to handle life on their own. One of my male friends invited me over to come see his new dorm room, and in my naivete, I did not think to take a hazmat suit. When I entered the suite, I realized really quickly that this man had never learned how to clean up after himself, and neither had any of his four roommates. I asked him why he was living like this, and he was genuinely surprised to see that this was strange to me. He explained that his mother would send him food each weekend and the cleaning consisted mostly of just taking out the trash. They used disposable plates and cutlery because none of them knew how to wash dishes, and evidently no one had ever taught them how to clean a bathroom. Suffice to say I never went back.

Sadly, this was not an isolated incident. It seemed like a lot of my Panjabi male friends simply didn’t know how to live on their own, while the majority of the Panjabi women were much better at it. It seemed that the training women received at home while growing up was not also given to the men, and their moms just did everything for them until they got married. After that, all of this was their wife’s job. It still surprises me that people like my friend and his roommates choose to live in a dirty apartment, risking illness from bacteria instead of learning to do this kind of “women’s work.” Another friend of mine made sure his sister transferred to the same school as him so that they could live together and she could handle all the cooking and cleaning for him.

Along with the emotional labour that many women put into their relationships with men, we are also expected to maintain their standard of living. Interestingly enough, while some men see this as the woman being subservient to them, it also means that they are highly dependent upon the woman for very simple basic tasks. My argument (and my mother’s) has always been a little bit different from what I normally hear. I think men should equally share in the housework, but not just because it makes women’s lives easier. I believe it improves men’s lives—it forces them to grow up and handle being responsible for their own mess. Perhaps they will be able to apply this skill to other parts of their lives as well. 

Affinity groups and emotional labour

Coming into law school as a 1L, it was really important for me to see myself represented in the student body. It was important for me to see other students from my community who could relate to my experiences and understand how I was feeling at the time. The school administration could not provide that for me—it was something that only a community of my peers could do. This is where affinity groups play such a crucial role for students.

A few months ago, the Middle Eastern and South Asian Law Students Association (MESALSA) held an admissions panel for Middle Eastern and South Asian (MESA) undergraduate students interested in applying to law school. We had a variety of current MESA law students speak about their background, how they became interested in law as a career, what type of law they wished to practice, and what their application materials looked like. We offered specific advice catered to minority students, and attendees were able to ask questions to the panelists and ask how their ethnic background has affected their budding legal careers. MESALSA is thus helping guide these undergraduates to and through law school.

In essence, we offer mentorship for aspiring and current law students. In an environment as harsh as that of law school, affinity groups look out for their members because we understand their specific experiences, and we know that the school cannot provide the help that these students need. Affinity groups provide safe spaces for students to ask questions, admit that they need help, and get the community-based support that they need to get through law school. This is a feminist space: affinity groups provide support to marginalized communities represented at King Hall and attempt to uplift themselves and each other. I wish I had had this kind of event offered at my undergraduate institution. It would have been a game changer for me, and would be encouraged me much more to pursue a career in law. Knowing that others like me have successfully done this before me would have greatly aided me in getting over my imposter syndrome.

However, much of the labour that affinity groups perform is an attempt to get minority students the same type of representation, resources, and sense of belonging that white students have. Making students feel like they belong in law school and overcome imposter syndrome, for example, is a wonderful thing for affinity groups—but it shouldn’t be their job. Connecting students to people in the legal field from their ethnic group also should not be the responsibility of affinity groups. Supporting struggling students through tough exam periods and mental health crises is wonderful, but again it should not fall to affinity groups to take on that responsibility.

At the end of the day, affinity groups are also made of students. These students end up having to complete their own workload from school, but also mentor and be available for their peers. Students of colour end up having to do a lot of emotional labour to support each other and take on these extra responsibilities. In addition, many times the student who is expected to provide guidance and mentorship is also going through these same problems themselves. They may not be able to or have the energy to provide help, but they know that they are the only ones who will, so they strain themselves and try anyway. This is extra labour that white cis male students do not have to do for each other, as these institutions are built specifically for them. Not only do they already have a leg up on everyone else, they now have less emotional labour to do, putting them in a better position than everyone else once again.

Instead of relying on affinity groups to do these jobs, the school needs to take responsibility for the wellbeing of its own students. Perhaps the school could collaborate with affinity groups and have staff dedicated to student engagement. These staff members could collaborate with affinity groups to put together culture week events and other events throughout the year, taking responsibility for most of the labour involved. That way, affinity groups could make sure they provide their students with what the students need, and they do not have to take on as much emotional labour as before. These staff members could also be responsible for maintaining a list of organizations and individual members of the legal field that they actively connect students with, perhaps by organizing more networking opportunities or creating programs where those professionals interact with students on a more consistent basis.

Supporting marginalized groups has always been integral to intersectional feminism. Perhaps by implementing even small changes like this, law schools can become a little bit more inclusive and feminist, making it easier for all students to succeed.

Law schools don't know how to deal with depressed students

There is a very dangerous assumption that law professors tend to make unless and until told otherwise: that their students are all neurotypical. Professors’ lack of understanding about this issue is especially confusing considering the high number of law students who are affected by mental illness. Depression and anxiety are extremely common amongst law students, yet professors and school administrators structure their classes and programs without considering what the students will be able to handle.

I have both depression and anxiety, and I have been dealing with both for a few years now. My mental health (or lack thereof) affects my legal education, and sometimes I cannot keep up with my coursework. Some days, I am fine— I can prepare for class and be fully engaged. Other days, even making it out of bed and into the classroom is a battle. I choose to be a law student and I value this opportunity, but sometimes I just cannot do all that is expected of me. I am far from the only law student who deals with these issues, and yet professors repeatedly create policies and entertain assumptions that are detrimental to students like me.

In the first semester of my second year, I took a class with a professor who had very high expectations of their students. They were very kind and accommodating, and regularly checked in with the students in the class to see if we were okay. They adjusted assignment guidelines to make them more convenient for us and offered extra credit at the end of the term because they knew some of us were only one point away from an A grade. However, they had a very rigid attendance policy: any absences had to be approved by the registrar. It seemed strange for such an accommodating professor to have such a policy, and although this added procedure did make sure I did not miss class, it also meant that I sacrificed my health to be there. It was too overwhelming to have to go to the registrar’s office and explain that my mental health was bad. It was possible that they wouldn’t believe me, and that I would have to defend myself. Sometimes they ask for documentation, so I would have to go see a counsellor and get a note to confirm that I was in fact feeling ill. It was a lot of effort for a person who already cannot get out of bed. So, if I was unwell, I still came to class, and the mental exhaustion made my depression and anxiety even worse.

In the same semester, I was registered in a class that I quite enjoyed. I participated regularly, attended all class sessions, and stayed in touch with the professor regarding assignments as the semester progressed. In the middle of the term, when I was dealing with a particularly bad bout of depression and anxiety and was unable to do any work, I missed an assignment deadline. Instead of checking in to see why I had not submitted the assignment, the professor chose to email me and reprimand me for missing the deadline. I was informed of how many marks I would be losing and how that would affect my final grade. I was told to take my education more seriously. They did not ask me if I was okay or why I had suddenly stopped responding. At this point, they had no knowledge of what had happened, and no reason to believe that I was not taking my schooling seriously. Yet, this is the first thing that they thought of, and assumed that it must be true.

Receiving this email only made my anxiety worse, and I found myself unable to put any effort into my coursework. Later that day, I had an anxiety attack. Luckily, I spoke with Chris from the Academic Success office and he told me that I could drop the class if I wished, but I had to get that professor to sign my drop card. When I emailed this professor the next day, I explained my situation and asked them to sign the card. This was my first communication with them since missing the deadline. Suddenly, their entire demeanor changed and they sent me a list of on-campus resources for mental health support, which I would have appreciated much more if they had bothered to check in in the first place. Sending this email now seemed like an empty gesture, and it was not at all appreciated.

Although I was struggling, my mental health was thankfully not in terribly bad shape at the time. However, this professor did not know that. What if my mental state had been much more fragile? Why did they not consider the impact of their words upon their students? Why did they assume that failing to complete an assignment was me being lazy and unappreciative of my education? The only thing they needed to do was reach out and ask what was happening, but they chose not to do so. It baffles me because so many law students deal with mental illness like depression and anxiety, and it cannot be a new experience for professors to see their students show signs of it. So why did I have to come out and explain my problem before they realized that I might not be healthy enough to do it?

Law professors and administrators need to be much more cognizant of the ways in which their policies affect their students. All too often, myself and my peers end up losing entire nights of sleep to prepare for class because of the outrageous amount of homework, and this happens consistently each week. Many times, we miss meals because we are too busy to eat, and often we don’t go outside at all. Consistently assigning this much work means that they make the assumption that the student can keep up with it and remain in good health while doing it. I see professors regularly get upset when students are not prepared for class, but the workload is just so intense that sometimes we students have to prioritize our health. Professors and schools need to take a hard look at their own policies and assumptions and how they affect their students. It is the school’s job to take care of their students—or at least to not actively cause harm to them.

In defense of Sansa Stark

The final season of the series, Game of Thrones, began last weekend. Naturally, this has sparked passionate discussion with friends and family over character romances, tinfoily fan theories, and most importantly, who will end up on the iron throne. One character’s cause that I’ve been particularly committed to lately is that of Sansa Stark.

At the beginning of the series, Sansa is a 13-year-old girl who enjoys embroidery and daydreams about marrying a prince. She aspires to be a proper royal lady, upholding tradition, which causes tension with her tomboyish younger sister, Arya. Initially, many viewers (including me) were put off by Sansa’s snobby demeanor, materialistic nature and naïve obsession with living a fairytale life. However, through the course of the show, Sansa endures a series of traumatic experiences which transform her from a callow child to an intelligent and resilient woman.

First, Sansa leaves her home and is betrothed to a destructive young prince, who soon orders her father killed (and makes her watch). Living with his family, she must conceal her grief and act agreeable, or risk her own life and the lives of the rest of her family. During her time living essentially as a prisoner, Sansa learns from others how to survive in such an environment. She meets other women who advise her to use her sexuality and charm to persuade men to do what she wants. In femininity, they find strength.

She later escapes this place with a quasi-family friend, Petyr Baelish, who is known throughout the kingdom for his manipulative and conniving ways. Nevertheless, she initially trusts that he has her best interests in mind. They take refuge with Sansa’s aunt, whom Baelish convinces to marry him so that he can gain control of her stronghold. Sansa then watches as he murders her aunt and frames another person, discovering that this is a trick he has pulled before.

Still, Sansa does not foresee Baelish’s next betrayal. He hands her off to be married to a sadistic man who has taken over Sansa’s home, and leaves. Her new husband brutally rapes her, beats her, and threatens her with violence. Eventually, she manages to stage another elaborate escape and sets off to find her brother.

Having endured years of physical, sexual and emotional abuse, Sansa displays extraordinary strength and grace. When she reunites with her brother, she immediately takes the lead on reclaiming their home, negotiating alliances and working toward unifying her family. She is no longer trapped in her prior passive role of being tossed from man to man.

The seventh season satisfyingly highlights the progress she has made. Aforementioned Baelish is back, and spends the season sowing seeds of discord between the Stark sisters. His interactions with Sansa echo those of prior seasons, particularly during the time when he “rescued” her from one dangerous situation only to throw her into another. Feigning concern for her safety, he tries to convince her that her sister is scheming against her.

In the final episode, it is revealed that Sansa had been pretending to believe him the entire time. She puts Baelish on trial for treason and sentences him to death. Before ordering his execution, she utters her iconic line, “I’m a slow learner, it’s true. But I learn.” Though he had dismissed her as gullible, Sansa was able to outwit a man not only famous for his insidious cleverness, but who had previously taken advantage of her. Her measured temperament, thoughtfulness and careful calculation brought her justice.

Despite this radical growth, many have not come around to the Sansa train. Perhaps it is true that “no character can ignite a fandom’s ugliest instincts more than a flawed teen girl doing her best.” I’ve had conversations about this with women who identify as feminists, and who continue to hate her character. They cite her prissy attitude at the beginning of the series and the fact that she is not aggressive enough in war (never mind her diplomacy).

Last week, a friend said that she would never like Sansa because she made a certain military maneuver once. In this case, Sansa’s brother, Jon, had refused to take her advice, so she negotiated an alliance on her own and saved their army from certain defeat. This strategy was a success, but my friend insisted that Sansa put her brothers at risk by not sending the allies in even sooner. This argument seems to imply that Sansa should have just worried about taking care of her family rather than thinking about the bigger picture, relegating her to the private sphere and a caretaking role.

Men in the series have made much riskier military endeavors resulting in tragedy. For example, in that very battle, Jon is provoked into charging too soon after the rival leader kills his brother (without Sansa’s secret plan they would have lost). His emotions overcome him and he falls into an obvious trap, yet I have never heard anyone suggest that he should have had more concern for his family or is too emotional to be a leader. Dismissed for her “feminine” qualities and criticized as heartless when she is strategic, Sansa is tied up in double standards.

Unlike other, more popular female characters (e.g., Arya and Daenerys), Sansa did not have the luxury of impulsively using violence to get her way. She could not rebel overtly against the people who held her captive, lest she be killed. So, like many women in the real world, she relied on her wit and negotiation skills to stay alive and attain her goals in a patriarchal society.

Women are often put in positions where lashing out is not a permissible response, and we cope with our emotions in other ways. This approach should not be devalued just because aggression and anger are the more accepted (masculine) way of accomplishing something. Stoicism should not be mistaken for weakness, nor rage for strength.

Perils of the modern arranged marriage process

Please note that the following reflects my personal experience and may not reflect the experiences of others engaged in the process.

As a practicing Muslim woman, there are two tenets of my faith that have colored my life: (1) a Muslim woman must not have sex before marriage, and (2) a Muslim woman must marry a Muslim man.

Based on these tenets, entrepreneur Shahzad Younas, aptly stated that "[M]uslims don't date, we marry." The question then becomes how we should get married without dating. There are three common avenues to meet one's spouse: (1) an affinity group in college, (2) Muslim-geared dating apps, and (3) arranged marriage.

Affinity groups (e.g., Muslim Student Association and Pakistani Student Association) not only served as inclusive, safe spaces for like-minded people, but served as hubs to meet a large number of other “eligible” Muslim Americans. Most of my friends have found their spouses in affinity groups and have gotten married by the time they graduate college. When I was a college student, law school was my dream—not marriage. To avoid the prospect of marriage ruining my academic ambitions, I dodged joining or affiliating myself with any kind of affinity group on campus. Because affinity groups were out of the question—and I was embarrassed to get on a dating app—my only other viable option was to opt for an arranged marriage.

Modern-day arranged marriages are very different from stereotypical arranged marriages where one (or both) parties were forced to partake in the marriage. I liken modern day arranged marriage, at least in the Pakistani-American community, to a very public Tinder arrangement. Basically, my “profile” comprises of my biodata which includes my name, age, height, education, parent’s education, and "profile pictures".

My biodata is given to a matchmaker in my community who later distributes it to matchmakers throughout the United States. This matchmaker, our “network”, serves as an intermediary between eligible bachelors and bachelorettes. The matchmakers assess my biodata and distribute it to men whom they think I would make a good fit for. They also assess and send me the biodatas of men whom they think would make a good fit for me.

If I liked someone, I would tell my parents I am interested in pursuing this relationship (“rishta”). That would be my version of “swiping right”. If I did not like someone, I would tell my parents I am not interested in pursuing this rishta ("swiping left"). The men went through the same process. If we both swiped right, we would meet each other and determine if we had a spark.

This process has been described as being “like dating fully endorsed by our families . . . there are no secrets or hiding.” During this entire process, I would have a say in whom I chose to marry. While the freedom of choice was exciting, the process has had a dark side in my experience. Almost every single man who received my biodata has “swiped left”.

My mom reached out to the matchmaker to ask why people were continuously swiping left. The matchmaker bluntly told her the following reasons for the continuous rejection: I was too fat, too old, too short, too dark, and too educated.

The ideal Pakistani mate would only have a college education, be fair-skinned, have long lustrous hair, and have the body measurements of a Victoria's Secret model. On top of these qualities, the woman needs to be seen as someone who would make a good housewife in terms of cooking, cleaning, and childrearing (e.g., June Cleaver). For women who fit the ideal Pakistani mate, the process has been empowering. It is the exact opposite for women who don’t tick one of these boxes—and I don’t tick any of these boxes.

I started this process when I was twenty years old, and I will twenty-five in June. To say this process has been debilitating is an understatement. Every ounce of professional confidence and growth during law school was crushed in my personal life because I did not fit the Pakistani ideal. I became increasingly anxious, depressed, and developed a sense of self-hatred.

Social cues from my cultural community told me to deprioritize my career ambition and focus on molding myself into the ideal Pakistani mate. This process feeds into the separate spheres ideology where women are expected to be caretakers and homemakers with the bodies of Victoria’s Secret models. I feel like the unrealistic expectations of the men (and their mothers) reflects how they view women: objects who serve a purpose.

I never wanted marriage to be an “accomplishment” I tick off. I grew up loving “love” and believed that form of intimacy and companionship can enrich someone’s life. I wanted marriage to be the culmination of a journey full of love and commitment. While every rejection may make me question my self-worth, in the long run, I know that men who choose women off of their ability to serve—rather than their ability to live their lives to their fullest extent—are not the right men for me.

In an attempt to add personality to my biodata, I wrote out a rishta "cover letter". Below is a short snippet from that letter:

As a woman, I have heard that I can have a family or a career. While I would love to have my own family one day, but I do not believe I have to give up my life’s work to have one. I want to enter into a strong partnership where we both support each other’s goals and dream . . . . If you are curious about my complexion, weight, or height, I do not think we would have a future together.

While my mother hasn't been convinced to attach this letter to my biodata, it was empowering to write because it reminded me that I am more than who I am on paper—and that has made all the difference.

Confessions of a feminist promo girl

While reading through the myriad of Spring 2019 feminist legal theory blog posts, I noticed a trend among many: A confession to being a bad feminist. Whether it was an admission to watching The Bachelor or participating in cultural, sexist traditions or religiously watching Keeping Up with the Kardashians, each author questioned their feminist identity.

After watching Roxane Gay’s Ted Talk on her “bad feminist” ways, I couldn’t help but to think of my own. So yes, I too confess: I am a bad feminist.

How? I absolutely capitalize on my femininity every weekend to help pay my way through law school.

As we all know, law school costs are an arm and a leg, and then some. To help pay for my living expenses, I work as a “promo girl” on the weekends. I essentially do promotional marketing, as an independent contractor, on behalf of marketing companies. Their clients are big alcohol brands like Bud Light, Stella Artois, Jim Beam, Maker’s Mark, Hornitos, Effen Vodka, and Courvoisier cognac just to name a few. I go wherever they send me - clubs, bars, restaurants, golf courses, or professional sports games - to provide complimentary alcohol samples, educate consumers on the brand, and most importantly, push sales. Even though I do not receive a commission, high sales equals job security.

The work itself is minimal. We simply get paid to talk to consumers and the shifts are just 4-5 hours long. I make my own schedule, so if I choose not to work during reading period, my employer is okay with that. Best part is the pay. If I work through the weekend, I can pocket anywhere between $500-800, which contributes to my monthly bills and permits me to financially assist family when needed. Sounds pretty nice, right?

Well let me explain the reality of it. Consumers see us in a different light. They treat us in ways they normally wouldn’t treat us if we were out of uniform. For instance, I’ve had consumers rub my back, touch my waist, and walk up and hug me out of nowhere. I’ve had consumers inappropriately comment on my body and tell me creepy things like, “I’ll buy anything from you looking like that.” I’ve even had a club owner tell me, “Didn’t your dad tell you to never give anything away for free?” He thought it was funny.

If you work in the industry, you know the unwanted touching, objectification, and inappropriate, sexual comments come with the territory. So generally, women learn to smile, laugh, and then turn to roll their eyes out of “professionalism.” However, I’ve never been one to play it off. I look at them with the “Seriously?” stare or I move so they stop touching me.

Even though that's my way of fighting the patriarchy in this field, I feel like I should do more, especially as a feminist. I’m already letting my fellow feminists down my conforming to the “promo girl” stereotypes and capitalizing on it. Further, I’m moving the movement backwards by being a part of an industry that normalizes the objectification of women, minimizing us as a whole. So the least I can do is say something or move their hand, and not feel bad about it.

I think there are two things in play here: 1) the power dynamic; and 2) who's responsible for educating the obnoxious consumers?

Even though our marketing companies say they do not tolerate sexual harassment and claim they want all promo girls to work in a safe and comfortable environment, none of us dare to report the things we endure for job security purposes. Many of us keep our mouths shut because the business reports back to our big company client, and if the business speaks highly of us, we will get booked more often. However, if we make waves at a business and that information flows up the ladder, we risk losing work.

To maintain steady employment, and thus pay our bills, we put up with the behavior. So like many women in other professions, there’s an embedded power dynamic that must be overcome to address the issue. We also need our employers to have our backs, and mean it.

Maybe then we will speak up without the fear of retaliation. But even if that were the case, should the onus really be on us? We already have to deal with the behavior, and now we have to treat it? But if not us, who is going to educate these people? You would think with all the public discourse on sexual harassment, consumers would treat us with respect, regardless of what we're wearing or doing, but I see from personal experience, we still have a long way to go.

So yes, I am a bad feminist on the weekends to make ends meet, but thanks to feminism, I have the freedom to choose to study law during the week and do promos on the weekends to pay for it. Additionally, thanks to this course, I’ve been empowered to speak up and educate the obnoxious hereon out…and that’s a promise to my feminist comrades, good and bad alike. 

Just not *that* woman

Currently, eighteen (18) people have thrown their hats in the ring to run against Trump in 2020. Eighteen. It's sometimes hard to remember just how crowded the field is when the media really only wants to talk about about a few of these candidates: Joe Biden, Beto O'Rourke, Bernie Sanders, and now, Pete Buttigieg. These four men entered the race at different times, yet each has received a similar flood of attention. Biden and Bernie are familiar faces and were among those who people wanted to see run. Beto and Buttigieg are exciting political up-and-comers, who promise to breathe fresh air into Washington. And, of course, they are all white males. By itself, that fact isn't all that surprising. Most politicians are white males. Like the law, the field of politics has been and is still dominated by them. We made progress on that front in 2018, when a record number of women were elected to Congress. However, the top jobs - that of president and vice president - have remained staunchly male, and, at least in this initial coverage, it looks like that will not be changing this cycle.

Hillary Clinton tried her best to change that, and very nearly did. Hillary has always inspired me, and she inspired many of the men and women I was closest to in 2016. Despite that, her campaign was excruciating and frustrating to watch every step of the way due to the sexism of the media, and the general electorate. Apparently, Hillary just isn't likable. She alienates people. She's a war hawk. Her pantsuits. Her emails. And then there was the most irritating line from those who claimed they weren't voting for her: "I'll vote for a woman, just not that woman." The people who were saying that particular line weren't Republicans, who likely weren't trying to vote for a woman, but rather other liberal and independent men and women.

One of the women most cited as one whom the aforementioned group would vote for was Elizabeth Warren. Warren officially entered the 2020 race in January of this year. Despite a good deal of excitement surrounding her announcement, the focus on her has died down in favor of the four men mentioned at the beginning of this blog. Nonetheless, Warren has continued to campaign and release detailed policy plans - my favorite of which has been been her ambitious plan for universal child care. Not only is it a good plan, but it is also one that likely would only be thought of by a woman. Yet, one of the more recent Quinnipiac polls as her well behind Biden, Bernie, and Beto, and tied at 4% with Buttigieg, who entered the race well after she did. Some chalk this up to that whole DNA testing thing. As a person of color, that put me off a little bit too. But, not only did her childcare plan win me over, but I also took care to check any vestiges of internalized misogyny and remember that people, men and women, are imperfect and make mistakes. It isn't fair to dismiss a candidate due to a single judgement error, because everyone makes them.

It has been tough for other female candidates, too. Kamala Harris is polling better than Warren, but still no where near frontrunners Biden and Bernie. Like Warren, Harris' entry into the race was met with excitement. She is a strong woman of color, with a progressive record in Congress. Her background as a prosecutor was no secret, but people dug in anyway, and then came the criticism - as a baby prosecutor she was not progressive enough. I've worked at a public defender's office, I get the general distrust of prosecutors. But, Harris' record here needs to be looked at through an intersectional lens. As a woman of color, she wouldn't have had the power, at the beginning of her career, to have the kind of record and make the kinds of changes progressives want from her. The law is dominated by white males in almost all fields, offices of district attorneys not excluded. As much as Harris likely wanted to keep the needs of her community in mind as a prosecutor, she also needed to ensure that she had a good reputation with her white male bosses. This likely meant she couldn't appear to "go easy" on anyone.

But, in politics and other high-powered positions, women are not allowed to make mistakes or have questionable past opinions or records. The poll referenced above has Joe Biden leading the field with a whopping 29% of people polled. Biden, as much as people loved him as President Obama's Vice President, is not a perfect candidate by any means. One of his biggest flaws is his treatment of women, which has come to light in the past few weeks. Biden's boundary issues with women are well documented in pictures. His actions suggest a pattern rather than an isolated incident. However, he is still in the lead for the nomination, whereas Warren's one mistake may be tanking her chances. The same poll puts Bernie in second place with 19% of the vote, though much ado has been made about his lead in terms of fundraising. But Bernie is not perfect either. He has been dismissive of the concerns of people of color and some of his more rapid supporters are crazy, and he didn't do enough to calm them down. I could run a similar analysis on Beto and Buttigieg, who also have flawed records and are similarly not perfect candidates. People are still more excited about them than Warren or Harris - or at least that is what a quick glance at The New York Times or Twitter would have you believe.

I was hoping that after Trump's election, the double-standard in politics - expecting near perfection from female candidates while forgiving males - would lessen enough to give women a fighting chance at the presidency. It's not like people didn't notice the disparate treatment Hillary received in 2016. We seem to be falling into the same trap again, though. On the progressive side of the aisle, most are just concerned with ensuring that Trump is voted out of office. This is a goal I fully support, and thus I will vote for whoever the democratic candidate ends up being, which may mean voting for another white male. However, we as a society, must do a better job of policing ourselves when it comes to evaluating female candidates in particular. There will never be a perfect candidate - male or female - so evening the playing field necessarily means that we stop holding women to a higher standard. How do we do that? We can start by being truly honest with ourselves about whether we would dismiss our favorite male candidate for the same reason we want to dismiss a female one. If we start making excuses about why it wouldn't take away from the appeal of a man, it's time to start contemplating if internalized sexism is at play.

Tackling the objectification and harassment of women in the airline industry

On March 4, 2019, Virgin Atlantic took a “small but symbolic step” when it eliminated the mandatory makeup requirement imposed on its female flight attendants. Virgin Atlantic’s new company guidelines grant its female flight crew the autonomy to choose whether or not to wear makeup. However, if they choose to wear makeup, some restrictions still apply, such as adherence to the suggested color palette articulated in the company handbook.

Additionally, Virgin Atlantic took their efforts a step further and modified the standard red shirt and skirt uniform to include an option to wear pants provided by the company. Prior to this new company guideline, crew members needed to place special requests for a pant uniform from Virgin Atlantic.

Virgin Atlantic adopted these changes to its styling and grooming policy in light of employees expressed opinions and its desire to foster a more inclusive corporate environment. Virgin Atlantic’s Executive Vice President Mark Anderson stated that “not only do the new guidelines offer an increased level of comfort, but they also provide our team with more choice on how they want to express themselves at work.”

Virgin Atlantic’s new guidelines serve as a breath of fresh air in an industry plagued by a lengthy history of objectification, sexual harassment and sexual assault of its female employees. One study shows that roughly two-thirds of U.S. flight attendants experience some form of harassment or assault during their careers. The Huffington Post article, For flight attendants, sexual assault isn’t just common, it’s almost a given, provides insight into the egregious treatment female flight attendants face from both their co-workers and airline passengers.

The article sheds light on the sexual harassment flight attendant Caroline Bright endured in 2017 at the hands of a pilot she worked with. She recalls noticing how the pilot’s facial features reminded her of her father and showing a picture of her father to the pilot. She told the pilot “You look just like my dad!” The pilot crassly responded by saying “It’s been a long time since a girl like you called me daddy.”

In addition, the article highlights how the industry’s “the customer is always right attitude” and the discouragement of causing inflight delays inherent in the nature of the flight attendant’s job deters female flight attendants from confronting their perpetrators and ultimately drives them out of the industry. Lanelle Henderson, a former flight attendant, describes how an intoxicated male passenger made unwanted sexual advances toward her. The male passenger repeatedly grabbed and rubbed her hands, legs, and butt until another passenger intervened.

In the article, Dawn Arthur, a flight attendant for eight years, articulates sentiments similar to Henderson’s. During her career, male passengers often “pushed her into a corner and felt her up.” She never felt supported by her colleagues in the industry to come forward and cites the failure of airlines to train their employees in handling instances of sexual harassment and assault as exacerbating the problem.

Moreover, Arthur emphasizes how passenger perpetrators face limited to no consequences for their actions because “airlines are on a tight timetable and they’re not going to stop the plane.” She notes that if a flight attendant complains, “everyone’s just going to be mad at [her] because [she’s] not a team player and [she’s] just being difficult.”

The objectification, sexual harassment, and sexual assault of female flight attendants continues to be a rampant issue even in 2019. As recently as two weeks ago, two JetBlue flight attendants filed suit against the airline and two of their pilots for drugging and raping them during a flight layover. The airline failed to take any sort of action when the two flight attendants brought forward their sexual assault and rape claims.

Virgin Atlantic hopes that the modifications it incorporated into its new uniform and makeup policy will help combat this continued objectification, sexual harassment, and sexual assault female airline employees face. The company believes that the policies can serve as a step towards mitigating the toxic masculinity and misogyny inherent in the flight attendant job and airline work environment.

Following Virgin Atlantic’s footsteps, other airlines such as American Airlines, Delta Airlines, and Aer Lingus have eliminated their makeup requirements. They only maintain specifications for the type of makeup flight attendants wear if their flight attendants choose to wear makeup. Airlines such as Southwest and British Airways have also eliminated their skirt requirement and incorporated a pant option into their flight attendant uniforms.

However, not all airlines share the sentiments of those who have undertaken these changes. Despite removing its makeup requirement, United Airlines continues to heavily scrutinize its flight attendant’s attire and grooming choices. In an accidentally leaked internal email, United Airlines “expressed concern for skirts with improper lengths, shirts with wrinkles or stains, visibly worn-out shoes, and other personal grooming issues.”

Moreover, many Middle Eastern and Asian air carriers also continue to uphold their stringent appearance standards. For example, Singapore Airlines’ requires that its flight attendants, commonly known as “Singapore Girls”, wear a skin-tight uniforms, get their hair cut into one of the five approved styles, and apply the approved lipstick, blush and nail polish prior to arriving on the plane. Similarly, airlines such as Malaysia’s AirAsia and Vietnam’s Viet Jet require female flight attendants to wear tight-fitting or revealing clothing while in flight or filming for promotional videos.

With airlines opting to take different approaches, the question still remains: Are changes to styling and grooming policies enough to combat the objectification, sexual harassment, and sexual assault female flight personnel face? On one hand, providing women the autonomy to make clothing and grooming choices that might “deter” objectification or harassment in their workplace may seem empowering. However, on other hand, the choice feels arbitrary because the burden of consequences of their clothing and makeup choices ultimately rests with them in an industry where there is no support or training to stop such conduct.

Without establishing formal training for airline personnel to learn how to constructively deal with instances of objectification, sexual harassment, and sexual assault, the egregious treatment of female flight attendants will persist. Forums must be established to ensure female flight attendants can bring forward claims and airlines must develop in-flight procedures for handling situations as they arise, even if they do cause delays or inconveniences.

Female flight attendants’ safety in the workplace should be of utmost importance to air carriers. Their clothing and grooming decisions should not dictate the treatment they face at the hands of their male colleagues and passengers.

Is God a woman?

Our Father, who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy Name,
thy kingdom come,
thy will be done,
on earth as it is in heaven. . . 

For many people, Christian or not, the Lord's Prayer is instantly recognizable. As a child of a Christian household, it is one of the first things I remember memorizing, and despite my distance from the faith for several years, I still know every word. The prayer, which promotes devotion to and reliance on God, starts out with two very important words that will be focus of this post: "Our Father."

Christians repeat these two words frequently and instinctually. Like I mentioned before, I memorized this prayer at a very young age. I recited it often and without much thought (although admittedly the pastor would always direct us to savour every word. . . oops). But this practice, bolstered by language throughout the Bible, leads Christians to think of God as a man.

Assuming God's gender as male has sweeping ramifications for women in religion, and specifically Christian women. In short, characterizing God as a man imbues male dominance into every aspect of the religion. While some women in the Bible are lauded for their faith and character, ultimately a man is at the top of the hierarchy. It is a man that occupies the highest two positions of the faith - God the Father and His Son. Naturally, it follows that a man in the world today is most equipped to occupy the highest position as well. Women, although they may be virtuous, can never come close to the top precisely because of their gender.

But is language as influential as I posit? What if we took Ariana Grande's pop hit seriously? What if God was a woman?

Language plays a pivotal role in how people think and act. Thoughts not only shape our language, but language often shapes our thoughts. Gendered language in particular has a significant impact on how societies treat men and women, and those who identify elsewhere on the gender spectrum. In fact, "languages in which nouns are given male or female status are linked to gender inequality" across the globe. Psychology Professor Jennifer Prewitt-Freilano who conducted the research on the relationship between language and gender inequality asserted:

Not only is language a source for conveying current systems of hierarchy, but (it) might also be a way of reproducing them . . .

If gendered language is integral to thoughts, actions, and hierarchies, then God the Mother, hallowed be Her name might be essential to reversing the deeply ingrained inequality present in Christianity. If we regularly thought of God as a woman, then we might change thought-processes in such a way where women are equally accepted as having the potential to occupy positions of power and holiness. Language can be used to subvert the male hierarchy after thousands of years of it being used to reproduce it.

While I agree with many Christian feminist articles that changing God's gender may make Christianity more inclusive and more equal among the sexes, part of me still wonders why we are gendering God in the first place? The Bible features one predominant "description" of what God is in Genesis 1:27, but is otherwise silent as to who or what God is and what God's visage may be. For the record, Genesis 1:27 reads:

So God created man in His own image; in the image of God He create him; male and female He created them.

This passage can be read in many ways. Most often it is read to mean that males were created in God's image, thus God must also be a male. However, alternative interpretations do exist, including one where both men and women were made in God's image, accordingly God may display characteristics of both men and women. Regardless of the textual interpretation, the fact remains that we know very little about God. We cannot say for certain that God is a man, a woman, somewhere in between, or even human; and yet, we insist on gendering God. So maybe removing gender altogether is the way to go?

There are movements within Christian spheres to adopt more universal language for God. This includes substituting male words and pronouns, like "the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit", with inclusive language like "Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer." However, gender-neutrality also presents its fair share of problems. What surprised me the most in my research was that languages with no gender at all - where different genders are represented by the same words - still reflect high levels of gender inequality. Analysts suggest this is because when faced with gender-neutrality, people automatically categorize the un-gendered as male.

So what do we do with God?

Personally, I think each follower of God should choose what or who they want God to be for them - be it a human male, a female angel, an agendered peacock, you name it. However, I recognize this does not do much for fixing the gender inequality issue in Christianity. To that end, I encourage followers of faiths that characterise God as male to start referring to God with female pronouns and female words. I do believe that language influences thoughts. If hearing God, the Mother, more often switches the tune even a little bit, then I think it is worthwhile. This is something I have actively been working on in a secular context. When speaking about hypothetical Presidents, Congresspeople, business owners, etc., I try and default to female pronouns. Maybe this only comforts me and impacts no one else, but I think it is good training for my brain, which has been taught to think in terms of men.

While there is no one solution to gender inequality in religious spheres, something so essential to religion as language may be an excellent place to start.

Why I wish my mother a happy Father's Day every year

Growing up, I always knew I didn't have a dad. My mother told me the story early on: She had met the love of her life. He was married and had children but was interested in my mother. My mother decided to have a child to forever be reminded of this great love.

Like many womyn, I don't think my mom truly grasped that there was still a huge possibility I was going to grow up without a dad. Not even a baby will make a man stay. He even told her that he did not want another child because his life was already made and he wasn't going to provide for this new baby. But he caved, and here I am.

For years I was angry with my mother for bringing me into this world knowing she was going to be a single parent. At a very young age I understood that my mother had made the choice to bring me into this world without a father--and that was very hurtful for me. Many of my friends had fathers in their lives and had healthy and loving relationships with them. I felt like I was missing out on something important or like I was at a disadvantage for not having that other half of me in my life.

The older I got, the more upset I became because I felt like my mom had set me up for failure. What exacerbated my feelings was our financial situation. As a janitor, my mom didn't make more than $30,000 a year. Some years she only made around $15,000. I felt like I didn't have much because I didn't have a dad, and I didn't have a dad because my mom made that decision for me.

The closer I got to graduating from high school, the more I realized that my mom set me up for success. I thought to myself, "My mom is an actual badass!" Not only could she make $15,000 last for two people for an entire year, she also kept me pretty happy. She would play Gasolina by Daddy Yankee at red lights so I could show off my choreography. She also let me do her hair and take naps with her. She was my first dance partner who taught me all my cumbia moves. She miraculously even found the time to chaperone some of my field trips and never missed a parent-teacher conference.

Of course, like any relationship, we had our problems. She's not perfect, because no one is. And like the rest of us, my mother carries serious trauma from being a Mexican immigrant in the United States who was physically and emotionally abused as a child and an adult. Not only was she a single mother to me, she was also a single mother to my three siblings. She carried that weight the only way she knew how and made sure she did better than her parents did.

The older I got, the more grateful I was to not have a dad. The person my mom fell in love with was an immigrant from El Salvador who was cheating on his wife with more womyn than just my mom. I realized that having him in my life would probably have made living my life harder. I was never "girly," and my significant other is a butch lesbian. Latinx cultural norms make it hard to exist outside of heteronormative binary roles, and there is a high chance that he would have perpetuated these norms in our household.

Since I realized how much work my mom put in to taking care of me, I decided to wish my mom a happy Father's Day. I wanted to let her know that I appreciated her decision to keep and raise me knowing she was going to do so by herself. And since she had hoped I would have a father, I thought it fitting to let her know that although I didn't grow up with a second parent, she definitely filled both roles and then some.

It is because of her that I can speak up in situations many people from similar backgrounds are not comfortable to do so. As a single mother, my mom had to fight to survive and make sure her kids survived. Nothing was ever handed to her, and she didn't have anyone to lean on. If something needed to get done, she was the one who went out and made it happen.

This was my beginning as a feminist. Having a womxn in my life who played every role (homemaker, mechanic, doctor, cook, seamstress, breadwinner, chauffeur) taught me that I could do whatever I wanted. This was further engrained in me from watching my sisters apply what they learned from my mom (both are 20 years older than me) while raising families of their own (both were cheated on and left to raise their children on their own).

Wishing a single mother a happy Father's Day is not for everyone though. Many people feel it is dismissive of the importance of a father's role. This point of view reminds me of difference feminism (how the two sexes have inherently different qualities and therefore are inherently unequal). It seems like people who feel strongly about not wishing a mother a happy Father's Day believe that a womxn cannot fill the role of a "father" do to the biological, and therefore inherent, differences among the two heteronormative sexes.

However, this idea further perpetuates heteronormativity. Difference feminism leaves queer folks (including those who are polygamous) and individuals who decide to raise a child on their own. And I would like to point out that just because my children will have two moms and no father, they will not miss out on anything because femininity and masculinity are not rooted in any one particular gender.

Although there is controversy surrounding whether or not it is okay to wish a single mother a happy Father's Day, I wish my mom one every year because she persevered through her childhood trauma and her adult trauma to pick up the slack of someone who should have assumed the responsibility of being my father. And every year I say it, she is grateful for the acknowledgment and humbled by the recognition of her 24+ years worth of double duty.

Footloose: Toxic Masculinity Addition

Queer people, especially growing up, have to be especially careful about everything they do. Every action, every word choice, every joke needs to be carefully examined before its executed. For some people, this caution stems from fear of outing themselves before ready. For others, the fear stems from just being seen as an “other,” some misfit who does not belong.

For me, the latter was my main concern. A lot of people say that deep down they had always known they were gay. I, however, was not one of those people. Growing up, I believed I was straight. There was no nagging voice in the back of my head telling me that maybe I liked boys.

My mom was diagnosed with cancer right before I turned 15, and she died less than four months later. I attribute not hearing that voice to just trying to readjust to life and dealing with the trauma after her death. But, at 17, I realized I was gay, and within three weeks, I had come out to everyone in my life. It was a very short period between my own realization through me becoming open with everyone in my life.

So, what does this all have to do with the title I gave this blog post? Well, I have always loved to sing. It has always brought me joy. There are only a handful of days where I don’t start of the day humming “Good Morning Baltimore” from Hairspray (Musical) or “Provincial Life” from Beauty and the Beast (Movie). When I feel overwhelmed, I scream-sing “I’m Not Okay” by My Chemical Romance (Band) until I feel better. When I need a good cry I'm feeling sad, I listen to “People” from Funny Girl (Musical) or “On My Own” or “I Dreamed a Dream,” the latter two from Les Miserablés (Musical). Some of the quotes I live my life by come from songs. Two of my favorites, both which come from the song “Down, Down, Down to Mephisto’s Café” by Streetlight Manifesto (Band), which say “You can play the role of rebel, just be sure to know your wrong from right,” and

Way back when the prophecies began, do you think they really had a master plan, or were they merely writing fables, stories? I don’t know but it has occurred to me, the punishment that they threaten constantly, it’s only real if they can just convince me.”

 I have never been in love, but I have felt how much love can hurt someone by listening to any Adele album. This is all just a long way of saying, I love music and it has and always will be a big part of my life.

However, singing when you are in middle school and high school, especially growing up in the conservative part of California (I lived next to a place named Santee, but people referred to it as Klan-tee because of all the white supremacists living there) is not something a boy does. It’s something a “faggot” does. And this, guys, gals, and non-binary-pals, is where my tale of toxic masculinity begins.

First, what is toxic masculinity? Some on this blog have talked about toxic masculinity (see: Toxic Locker Rooms) and other have defined it (see: #MasculinitySoFragile and the Gendering of Consumer Products). I wanted to define it in my own terms as well. Toxic masculinity, to me, is any type of behavior done to ensure that one is seen as masculine, but to the determent of actor or others. This often means that the actor will avoid doing things that they or society perceive as feminine- like singing, dancing, cooking, talking about your emotions, having long hair, wearing traditionally feminine colors, etc.- even if it is something the person truly loves doing.

For me, the thing I avoided doing because it was considered feminine was singing. I never joined choir at my middle school. And I only joined high school choir my senior year, over half a year after I had come out. I was so afraid of being perceived as an “other” that I purposefully avoided something I truly loved. And I would only have been perceived as an “other” because of the patriarchy dictating what is masculine and what is feminine.

Instead of choir, I joined the next closest thing: band (I played clarinet for 9 years, and was first chair my last year of high school). I made so many good friends in band, and I cherish most of my memories from those times. But I never loved the activity. It was not something I wanted to be doing, but rather was something I was doing to get a fix. I still wanted music in my life, and band was the best, unfeminine way to incorporate it.

But it was not the same. And I look back now and am sad that I was too scared to participate in something I truly loved.

In college, I tried out for a couple acapella groups, but because of my lack of experience and training, I often was under prepared for my auditions, and clearly not the best choice. I only auditioned my freshman year, and it went terribly. I heard other auditions, those that had musical training and had been singing their whole lives, and knew I could not compare. I knew that I would never be on that level without practice, which I did not have time for. Even after shedding my toxic masculinity, I still felt its effects.

It was not until I came to law school that I started singing again. I bombed my audition with Law Capella my 1L year because I was scared. I was a 1L auditioning in front of 2Ls and 3Ls (that in and of itself should be enough explanation), but I also was sandwiched between two people I already knew could sing well. My nerves got the better of me.

Full of resolve, I tried out again my 2L year. Thanks to some help from my friends, and some practice, I was able secure a spot in the group. I have taken a solo three times now, and I will be singing at graduation. I am extremely proud of the journey that has brought me here. I just wish I had not let fear, the patriarchy, and toxic masculinity stop me from pursuing something I truly loved. What comes to mind are The Streetlight Manifesto lyrics I quoted earlier: "the punishment that they threaten constantly, it’s only real if they can just convince me." My fear, the patriarchy, and my toxic masculinity were only real because they just convinced me that I would be nothing if I did not fit the mold.

Just some ending thoughts. One, I am extremely happy with how my life turned out, so even though not joining a choir sooner is probably one of my bigger regrets, I am still extremely happy. Two, life is always better with a soundtrack, so add some music to your life. Three, do not let others define you, and do not let them limit how you live your life because, if you do, you will miss out on a lot of songs along the way.

Kris Jenner isn’t “keeping up” with feminism

I’ll admit it; I still religiously watch Keeping Up with the Kardashians every Sunday. Does this make me a ‘bad feminist’? Maybe, but frankly I don’t care and I’m going to continue to watch the show that turned six women into multi-millionaires (one, Kylie, close to billionaire status) for letting their entire lives be shown to the world.

However, in the most recent episode, season 16, episode 2 “Kourtney’s Choice,” there were some problematic ideas spouted by the matriarch of the family, Kris Jenner, that I simply couldn’t bring myself to ignore.

The scene I had my main issues with was filmed after Kanye West, Kim Kardashian West’s husband, made an unplanned and controversial rant after his performance on Saturday Night Live as the credits rolled. During this rambling speech, Kanye wore a “Make America Great Again” hat and made several pro-Trump statements. While it was cut from the broadcast of Saturday Night Live, footage of the tirade leaked to YouTube and Twitter almost immediately, and many members of the public and celebrities voiced their disapproval of Kanye’s message.

In the scene I mentioned above from Keeping Up with the Kardashians, Kim tells her mom, Kris, about the unplanned speech and states that she is unsure whether her family will ever be invited back to Saturday Night Live. Kim goes on to tell her mother:

Look, I can’t control it… I know that Kanye is always gonna be Kanye, and I’m never trying to change that. I mean, that’s who I fell in love with, and I’m not trying to change who he is.

Kris, clearly frustrated and upset about the negative press making Kim look bad, then advises her daughter:

I just feel like to keep him calm, you really need to pay him a little more attention...I think he just is expecting a lot more than you’re giving."

To which Kim replies, irritated, that, "I don't have any much more to give."

Somehow Kris turns an impromptu, problematic speech made by a grown and independent man into an implication that Kim is deficient as a wife for not controlling Kanye’s actions. Kris seems to think that even while Kim is juggling three (soon to be four) children, running multiple businesses, and doing numerous public appearances and interviews, she still needs to somehow control her husband by giving him more attention and affection.

This advice plays into the outdated and problematic notion that women are not only supposed to be the ones running the home, but they are also representative and responsible for their husbands’ actions. By telling Kim she could stop Kanye’s erratic behavior by catering to his needs more often, Kris is saying Kim not only needs to be a partner to Kanye, but a mother and a manager as well. Kim Kardashian West does not need to answer for her husband’s actions because Kanye is an adult who can answer for himself.

Although Kris is herself a working mother, having acted as Kim, Khloe, Kourtney, Kendall, and Kylie’s manager since they first rose to fame in 2007, by making this comment it is clear she still believes Kim’s role as a wife should come before her work. For Kris, Kim should be focusing on providing emotional labor, the type of labor which is typically assigned to women in heterosexual relationships.

In Melissa Curran’s article, “Gender, Emotion Work, and Relationship Quality: A Daily Diary Study,” she unpacks the idea of emotional labor in relationships and the effect it has on the relationship when that labor is unequally divided. She also dives into the long-held belief, as evidenced through Kris Jenner’s comments to Kim, that women are the ones meant to shoulder the bulk of the emotional work in heterosexual relationships. She explains:

Emotion work can underscore greater relational inequality between partners, including perceptions that women are held accountable for emotion work in ways that men are not. 

This accountability for emotion work is what Kris was trying to put onto Kim with her comments and insinuation that Kanye’s erratic behavior was directly tied to Kim’s supposed deficiencies in the emotional labor she is putting into her relationship.

According to the theory presented in Rebecca J Erikson’s article, “Why Emotion Work Matters: Sex, Gender, and the Division of Household Labor,” women have historically been the ones assigned the majority of emotional labor in the relationship because it was viewed as a fair tradeoff for the economic labor the husband contributed to the relationship. However, in the case of Kim Kardashian-West and Kanye West, Kim actually provides more of the economic labor to the relationship (Kanye has a net worth estimated at $250 million while Kim has a net worth of $350 million).

Kris seems to want Kim to fall into the archaic sense of what it means to be a wife and a partner – despite the fact that Kim manages a perfume line, make-up line, popular app, as well as countless contracts using her personal Instagram as advertising for companies. Kim wasn’t exaggerating when she said she didn’t have much left to give emotionally to Kanye.

Ultimately, it is not only regressive for Kris to suggest Kim’s lack of emotional labor is directly tied to Kanye’s outbursts, but it is also insulting to Kanye, who has been very open with the fact he is an independent person who is going to do what he wants.

China’s ‘Virtue Schools’ for Women and Antifeminism

“Don’t fight back when beaten. Don’t talk back when scolded. And, no matter what, don’t get divorced.” “Women should just stay at the bottom level of the society and not aspire for more.” “Shut your mouth and do more housework.” These sentences all come from female teachers in China’s ‘virtue schools’ for women. These ‘virtue schools’ are for women of all ages, including underage girls. The schools list these words as their principles for women.

On September 21, 2014, China’s female morality schools came to the attention of the public. The schools were set up in Beijing, Shandong, Hebei, Guangdong and Hainan province. The first school was founded in 2011 by an ex-convict who had served time for murder. The school was approved by local authorities as a “public welfare organization”. The first female morality school was forced to close in 2017 after videos of lectures at the institute began doing the rounds on Chinese social media, alerting the authorities.

The Global Times reported that“ instead of promoting gender equality, these schools tell students that a woman should respect her father, husband and son unconditionally and that women should be subordinate to men.” Some women were sent by their husbands, while others were sent by company bosses.

 “As part of the training, I was forced to clean the toilets using my bare hands. How disgusting! They taught me that it was what women were supposed to do, and that women were born to serve men," says Jing in an interview to BBC. Jing was a 13-year-old girl who was forced by her mother to attend the female morality school.

When a 9-year-old girl was beaten in a school by a female teacher, people started to blame and criticize the school’s conduct. But these schools’ faults were not limited to violence to little girls, but also include being pests of social progress, including equal rights for women. It is obvious that these schools are set up to push women into being submissive housewives and impede women from seeking their own destinies.

The news about the morality schools was shocking for the world, especially in an era when women are fighting for their equal rights and standing out in the “MeToo” movement. How could this kind of disgusting development happen in modern China?

Actually, the voices of Antifeminism do not just belong to a small number of individuals. Every day in social media and in the daily lives around us, we see evidence of these forces. Whenever there is a voice in social media supporting equal rights for women, many people express their objections with sarcasm and negativity.

Men mock and laugh on social media and other public forums because they think it is ridiculous for women to ask for equal rights with men. In China, although women have the right to work and other legal rights similar to those of men, women still face huge pressures in the process of pursuing equal treatment from their family, friends, colleagues and the public.

The mentality of being a submissive housewife and bending to the men in their lives, including their husbands, comes from ancient China. Women should act like a woman, silent, diligent, soft and tolerant. Almost every country has experienced a period when women couldn’t work like a men. But, after all kinds of revolutions and movements, we thought that we have won finally. However, reality bites us again.

For example, when a woman in China tries to be a strong business woman, other than the barriers of boss and clients, her biggest hindrance is her family. Women are often helpless when they find out that the people around them are almost all antifeminists.

My father always told me that as a woman, you should do all of the housework for your husband after marriage. I feel disappointed that my father should ask me to act like a good wife and sacrifice myself to provide convenience to my future husband. What about myself? He also told me that the most important goal in a woman’s life is to marry a good person and provider. And he never encouraged me to be an independent person. Because in his world of values, a woman’s value exists in a house, not in the world.

Therefore, it is not difficult to explain why ‘virtue schools’ for women in China could exist in this modern age. If there are 100 feminists in China, there must be 1000 antifeminists. What, then, should women do to get back their inalienable rights?

We are born as women, but we are not born to be silent hidden and behind men. The voice of antifeminism may not disappear, but women can be stronger than they can imagine. The surroundings culture may mock a divorced woman, but this shouldn’t become the reason for her to bear patriarchal forces day by day. Parents may anticipate that their baby girl can become a housewife and supported by her future husband. But this is only their dream, not ours.

Antifeminism is everywhere. Since we can’t avoid it, we should face it with a smile, sticking to the belief that we are women and we should love ourselves and our capacity to create our own identify and future direction.

How gender-neutral bathrooms can solve sexist bathroom inequality

As anyone who has used busy sex-segregated restrooms can attest to, women's restrooms always have long lines while men seem to go in and out with no wait at all. While this isn’t the only issue with gendered bathrooms, it’s probably the most obvious one.

When you think about it, it makes sense that the line for women’s restrooms are longer. Women simply have more to do in the bathroom than men! We have to clean the toilet seat, put a cover on it, pull down pants/skirt/underwear, sit, pee, wipe, and get our clothes back to how they were before. Not to mention deal with our periods! Yet despite all of this, women's bathrooms often have the same number or less toilets as the men's restrooms.

In 2015 this issue inadvertently came into the national stage when after a five minute commercial and bathroom break from a Democratic Primary Debate, Presidential Candidate Hillary Clinton didn’t make it back to the stage before the debate started again. The image of Hillary’s empty podium with the two male candidates at the ready at their podiums caused a lot of stir in the media. 

In a New York Times article entitled “Finally, an Explanation for Hillary Clinton’s Long Bathroom Break” the world learned that Secretary Clinton had 1 minute and 45 seconds to walk to the bathroom, and 1 minute and 45 seconds to walk back to the stage. That left her only 1 minute 30 seconds to use the bathroom and wash her hands. Any woman, particularly one dressed professionally who is going to be speaking in front of an audience, can tell you that this is an impossible time frame.

Ghent University in Belgium studied the bathroom wait time differentials between men and women’s bathrooms and found that women waited on average 6 minutes and 19 seconds, while men waited just 11 seconds on average. The study found that this differential has two major components.

First, men’s restrooms can accommodate more occupants. This is because urinals take up less physical space than stalls, men’s restrooms can on average accommodate 20 to 30 percent more users than women’s restrooms. While having equal square footage in women’s and men’s restrooms appears equal, the effect is a structural inequality that disadvantages women by forcing them to wait significantly longer than men for the same accommodations.

Second, women spend more time in the restroom for the practical reasons outlined above. Women, on average, take 1.5 to two times as long as men to use the restroom. The study found that if you doubled the number of toilets for women, the wait times between the genders would be equal. However, this requires a huge amount of physical space.

The easiest and most effective solution to the time differential is to make restrooms unisex, also referred to as gender neutral. With gender-neutral restrooms, the wait times for both men and women is equalized to two minutes or less.

Gender-neutral restrooms are a growing trend, particularly at Universities and in California where all single-use restrooms are now required to be gender neutral. The next move – restroom parity in the form of gender-neutral restrooms.

To the single fathers with daughters

A new study from the London School of Economics revealed that men with school-aged daughters tended to be less sexist than men without children or men who had only sons. The study tracked about 5,000 men and 6,300 women who had a child (age 21 and under) living with them from 1991 to 2012. Each year, the individuals were surveyed to see if they agreed, disagreed, or were neutral to sexist statements like “a husband’s job is to earn money; a wife’s job is to look after the home and family.”

While the study did not look into why having a daughter made men less sexist, it did discover that the effect evolved over time. One of the researchers, Dr. Joan Costa-i-Font, said,

[Men with school-aged daughters] experience first-hand all the issues that [exist] in a female world and then that basically moderates their attitudes towards gender norms and they become closer to seeing the full picture from the female perspective. 

So essentially, being a bystander makes the fathers more aware of the female struggles.

After reading this, I thought, does this hold true for my single father? To be 100% honest, my dad was a major sexist throughout my childhood. It’s sickening now to think he taught me that in a heterosexual relationship, "the man" is the king of the castle and what he says goes. My big brother did the yard work with Dad, and he was taught to ignore his emotions and to respond physically, rather than verbally. I learned that “the man” makes the money, fixes the cars, and does not listen to Mary J. Blige’s latest music even if his daughter wants him to. It’s beyond problematic, I know, but the music, movies, and our community also reinforced these sexist views.

But there was a shift once my parents divorced. Then, I also learned that “the man” cleans and cooks (pretty damn well) too.

Even after the divorce though, the traditional patriarchal structure caused my mom to make up for my dad’s failures. Initially, he didn’t shop for me or talk to me about puberty or dating (this changed in my late teens). There were many times when Mom came to the rescue, taking me to soccer practice (because my dad wouldn’t since he had to sleep) or picking me up to get supplies for a school project (because my dad wouldn’t since he had to sleep). You get the picture. He was still stuck in the whole "what he says goes and everyone else has to figure out how to live with it" mentality.

Looking back, I wish I had a feminist father so it 1) wasn’t entirely on my mom (pre or post divorce), and 2) to dismantle the sexist teaching that a “good woman” is one who takes a care-based approach to all things living. As if “good men” can't be taught this too.

Don’t get me wrong. There were times when my dad tried to be a “good man,” and if anything, being a single dad sort of forced him into it. He decorated the house for the holidays, always fixed a homemade meal for dinner, and curled my hair one time for picture day (I hated it, but that’s neither here nor there). Point being, he tried to be nurturing the way he knew how. As time progressed, he got better at it and his sexist views continued to dissipate.

Mind you, this was before the dads don’t babysit movement as well as the BABIES Act. Being a single father in the '90s was somewhat of a novelty. Not only did he have this insecurity to overcome, but much of how he parented was based on his cultural Mexican roots. He learned from his father that domination is power; the man sets the rules and the wife and kids follow; and the man provides while the woman takes care of the husband, children, and household. 

Gross, I know, but that was his reality that became my reality until he was forced to have a reality check himself. It was a rough start, but he slowly made the transition to being less sexist, and I’m not sure if it was because of the circumstance (being a single dad) or if it was because of me (raising a daughter), like the study suggested.

Either way, if there’s one thing I learned from being raised by a single dad and could share with other fathers of daughters, it’s to know that you won’t be able to completely understand the female experience and its hardships, but you’re a front row observer with a VIP pass. Take advantage of it.

I’m not asking for you to ignore the differences in our world experiences based on our perceived genders because, Hello! We still live in a gendered society. I’m not even asking for you to teach your daughters how to do the “manly” things because forcing her to imitate men may keep her from uniquely contributing to society. What I am asking is for you to debunk the myth that girls and boys are so incredibly different from one another and to give your daughter the option and empowerment to do what she wants as an individual. Listen and support her needs and desires. No “dad knows best” language because that completely drowns out your child. Listen to her experiences, learn, discuss, and educate other adults because perpetuating the patriarchal system limits and devalues everyone. 

This is what I wish my single dad had known back then. 

The gendered effects of Medicaid work requirements

In January 2018, the Center for Medicare and Medicaid Services (CMS) announced that it would allow states to require employment as a precondition to Medicaid eligibility. While unsurprising, considering the Trump administration’s constant maneuvers to undermine universal healthcare, this is the first time CMS has endorsed such a program. Several conservative states have already pounced on this opportunity: Arizona, Arkansas, Indiana, Kentucky, Michigan, New Hampshire, Ohio and Wisconsin. Several more states have submitted requests to implement work requirements, which are now pending.

As Medicaid is a joint federal/state program, states must adhere to certain guidelines, set forth in the Social Security Act. However, they are authorized under §1315 of the Act to waive some of its provisions in order to implement experimental, or pilot, programs. Many states have used this authority to provide broader coverage through these special programs (e.g., expanding Medicaid eligibility to include nonelderly adults, children with disabilities, HIV-positive individuals, etc.). Unfortunately, states are also empowered to adopt restrictive measures, such as work requirements.

These work requirements differ in scope, but generally mandate that beneficiaries of Medicaid spend 80 hours per month, or 20 per week, on either paid employment or other “qualifying activities,” such as school, volunteer work or job training. Failure to participate in and report these activities will result in loss of Medicaid eligibility (though this is done differently in the various states). In Arkansas, for example, if a beneficiary fails to report sufficient work activities for three months, they will be “locked out” of Medicaid for the remainder of the calendar year.

The tragic results of these programs are already becoming apparent in states such as Arkansas, which requirement went into effect in June 2018. As of March 2019, over 18,000 Medicaid beneficiaries in Arkansas had lost their healthcare for failure to comply with the reporting requirements. Of those, only about 10% have since reapplied and regained coverage in 2019.

This clearly impacts numerous marginalized people, considering factors such as rurality, computer literacy and English proficiency. It is also, of course, a gendered issue. This is largely due to the demographics of those most likely to live in poverty and face barriers to consistent employment. While many groups are disproportionately harmed, this post will focus on the challenges that women in particular face in complying with work requirements.

First, single mothers account for most of the low-income adults who qualify for Medicaid. These women often work part-time jobs with inconsistent hours in order to care for their children (or because these are the only jobs available). In industries like food service and retail, hours vary from week to week and offer little flexibility, so missing work for any reason may result in job loss. Due to this instability, gaps in employment are common for low-wage workers. However, in some states, failing to meet the work requirement even for one month can result in the loss of healthcare.

Significantly, women are more likely than men to be responsible for caring for children, which impacts their availability to work. While all states have some form of an exemption for parents of dependent children, Indiana only exempts parents of children under the age of six. Even exempting parents of all minor children is arguably still insufficient, considering that for a child with special needs, age may not be relevant to the level of care needed.

Additionally, women often care for incapacitated family members who are not their children. The states’ exemptions do not sufficiently address this situation either. For example, Kentucky only exempts primary caregivers to a dependent if the dependent lives in the same household. It also limits the number of people who may claim this exemption to one per household, again failing to contemplate myriad circumstances. A Medicaid beneficiary in Arkansas reported that caring for her parents restricted her to looking for work in the evenings, which was difficult to find.

Practically, exemptions offer little protection for some of the most marginalized groups. Although some states automatically exempt beneficiaries through their own data, such as those already fulfilling another social program’s work requirement, or those known to have young children or a medical condition, they overlook many others. This puts the burden of identifying and reporting an exemption on the Medicaid recipient. Even if a someone qualifies for an exemption, she may not know that she does, or how to report it to the state (which is why even broadening exempted categories is not an ideal solution either).

Looking ahead, there may be hope that these requirements will not gain traction. Already, the D.C. Circuit Court has blocked Kentucky’s program twice, and just vacated the approval of Arkansas’s as well. In these rulings, it emphasized that the Secretary of Health and Human Services is not considering how these programs promote the goals of Medicaid, namely, providing medical care. This rationale finds strong support in similar prior cases where states attempted to implement restrictive requirements solely to save money. Hopefully, this provides a temporary remedy for those who might otherwise lose their healthcare, though it comes late for many in Arkansas who already have.

The Supreme Court could resolve this issue by ruling work requirements impermissible as a precondition for Medicaid. Yet, even if the court does grant cert, its current conservative composition might result in a stamp of approval for work requirements. It remains to be seen whether the government will take any further action.