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.

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.

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.

Captain Marvel (Part II): Feminist-Adjacent Themes Galore

This is the second part of my review of Captain Marvel, I encourage you to read the first part before reading this second part: Captain Marvel (Part I): The Role Model We Need. The first post dealt with the issues that most people see as implicating feminism, such as sexism in the military, getting back up after getting knocked down, and my personal favorite, women being too emotional. This post discusses issues that, while not necessarily implicating feminism at first glance, are clearly a part of feminism, such as creating your own family, first impressions, and how we as a society and as individuals treat refugees.

A SPOLIER ALERT IS NOW IN EFFECT. If you have not seen Captain Marvel, this serves as a warning that spoilers lie ahead.

One of the themes that the film tackles is creating your own family. The movie depicts Carol as this headstrong, emotional, courageous woman, from her childhood into adulthood. Her father did not like Carol's recklessness, and he seemed to almost forbid her from behaving like that. Dialogue and plot suggest that Carol had left her father, and started a new family with Maria. Maria is a single mother raising a daughter that Carol affectionately called "Lieutenant Danger". Maria was also in the Airforce and worked closely with Carol, becoming her best friend. Numerous pictures show them spending holidays together as a family unit, and Maria's daughter even refers to Carol as "Auntie Carol". A huge part of trying to defy gender expectations is having people leave your life that do not support your choice to live as your authentic self. It was great to see a new family form, and one that seemed supportive and genuinely happy. Such families are not often portrayed, and when they are portrayed, the depictions are seldom happy.

Next, first impressions drove the entire plotline of the film. Throughout the first half of the movie, we are led to believe that the Kree, a society led by an artificial intelligence (AI) and one that Carol is initially a part of, are trying to protect planets from the Skrull. The viewer is led to believe that the Skrull are the ones attaching the Kree. However, in a Pride and Prejudice-esq twist, we learn halfway through the movie that the Kree is not just an empire, but colonial in nature. Further, we learn and that the Skrull refused to submit to their rule. Because of this, the Kree essentially destroyed the Skrulls’ home planet. The Skrulls that are left are scattered throughout the galaxy and are all refugees. Thus, Carol is forced to question everything she believed, and makes the tough decision to help the Skrull.

While this may not seem directly related to feminism, I believe it very much is. Most feminist theories are based on the presumption that we should question societal norms and attitudes, especially in terms of power structures. For as far back as she can remember, Carol has believed that the Skrulls were not refugees, but rather were terrorists and aggressors. She had to re-evaluate everything she knew about the Skrulls and the Kree while choosing which side to take. In doing so, Carol shows a great example of how to be a proper feminist and how to be a good ally to marginalized groups.
Because Carol's re-evaluation is what we ask feminism and feminist to do every day. We ask everyone to re-evaluate societal norms and perceptions and ask why those norms are in place and whether they are just and correct. Feminism as movement has done the same as well. Originally focused on getting upper- and middle-class white women rights while using rather reductive and racist talking points, feminism was not all that inclusive. Bell Hooks accuses the movement of not being completely honest with itself, its origins or its focus, and encourages it to continue to reevaluate itself. And I believe the movement has continued to do so, becoming more and more inclusive towards all women, regardless of race, sexual orientation, economic status, and many other factors. That being said, this inner reflection needs to continue to ensure that all women are heard and are having their rights fought for.

Finally, the film asks us to re-evaluate the way we see refugees. The Skrull themselves are shapeshifters, and their forms, while not ugly, are also not aesthetically pleasing. The Kree tend to look more human. This symbolism is not lost on the audience. We were told the Skrull were bad, that they change their shape to assimilate into the population, and then they take over the planet. Because the Skrull look bad, the audience is more susceptible to believing the narrative the Kree give about the Skrull's actions. This is extremely relevant today when talking about refugees and the politics surrounding those seeking asylum, or even those seeking to immigrate into our country. They often just want to find a safe place to live and be accepted into their new society. And, just like the Skrull, most, if not all, refugees pose no great threat to society or those in the society unless they are threatened. It was great to see this portrayed in such a nuanced and non-preachy way.

Again, not all would see this as a facially or explicitly feminist message, but I see feminist thinking in it. The Skrull are just trying to live their lives as best they can, and they ask Carol to judge them based on their actions, and not on stereotypes or narratives she has heard about them. Most feminists want the same thing; they want to be judged on their actions, and not on the basis of stereotypes based on their sex, race, ethnicity, sexual orientation, or any other characteristic a person cannot change.

Overall, I loved the movie because it embedded so many themes in such a great story, all while managing to not get preachy about it. There were probably a couple other overt themes I did not explore in Part I or here, I encourage you to leave a comment on other themes you saw in the movie as well!

Captain Marvel (Part I): The Role Model We Need

I recently watched Captain Marvel. Going into the movie, I had low expectations. The reviews had not been great. And although I was excited to see a woman in the leading role of a super hero movie, I also was getting bored of the almost exclusively white genre. So, with mixed emotions, I entered the movie theater.

A SPOLIER ALERT IS NOW IN EFFECT. If you have not seen Captain Marvel, this serves as a warning that spoilers lie ahead.

Boy, was I thrilled with the movie. It touched on so many different issues, all important in feminist theory. And even though it was set in the '90s, it tackled issues that are still relevant and, indeed, hot topics today. Because it tackled so many amazing themes, I will write two separate posts about "Captain Marvel". This post will deal with the issues that most people see as implicating feminism, such as sexism in the military, getting back up after getting knocked down, and my personal favorite, women being too emotional. The second post will deal with issues that, while not necessarily implicating feminism at first glance, are clearly a part of feminism, such as creating your own family, first impressions, and how we as a society and as individuals treat refugees.

First, the movies portrayal of women in the military was brief, but excellently done. The movie did not try to sugarcoat any of the history of the military and its treatment of women, including women of color. It specifically stated and showed that both Carol Danvers (Captain Marvel) and Maria Rambeau, a woman of color and Carol's best friend, were not allowed to fly in combat because they are female. It was also heavily implied that Maria Rambeau, a black woman, had a much harder time getting any flying time, but that Carol kept supporting her, and Maria kept supporting Carol. This type of portrayal is just as important now as it was then. With the high level of sexual violence in the military-and given that it is still considered a boy’s club-it was amazing to see two strong women support each other and learn to thrive an environment that is hostile towards women.

The next major theme I noticed was getting back up after being knocked down. In the film, and throughout her life, there were numerous times where someone or something knocked Carol down. The Kree AI, one of the main antagonists in the movie, when trying to break Carol, remind her of all the times she has fallen down. The Kree AI tries to show her how flawed and week she is. And the Kree AI stop the memory right there. And for a minute, we see Carol believe it. But then she remembers what happens after all those times she fell. She gets up. With no tears, with no sign of pain, with no hesitation, she gets up. She does not consider her falling a flaw, because every time she fell, she got back up, stronger and more determined than ever. While most Marvel movies push this (Black Panther being the other clear example), this was by far the clearest message of it in any superhero movie thus far. To fall is human. We are imperfect beings. It is not how we fall, but how we choose to get back up. It is not our flaws or are mistakes that define us, it is how we learn and grow from them. This message was so well done, and it was great to see it being done through the lens of a smart, strong, courageous woman for once.

The last theme, and my personal favorite theme in the movie, is the stereotype of women being too emotional. Two scenes on this theme come to mind. Both involve Carol and Yon-Rog, her captain who is portrayed by Jude Law. In the beginning, Carol and Yon-Rog are training together. Yon-Rog tells Carol that she can never best him because she is too emotional, so she cannot think clearly. This was a clear use of the trope "women are too emotional to think rationally." And Yon-Rog said this while Carol was being no more emotive than an average person, male or female, in a hand-to-hand combat situation. And while the scene itself is not significant, it sets up second scene perfectly. At the end of the movie, Carol has clearly won, and Yon-Rog has lost. Knowing that he cannot beat her if she uses her powers, he tries to bait her. He says that she never was able to beat him at hand-to-hand combat, and because of that, she will never know true victory until she does. Yon-Rog wants her to fight him using only hand-to-hand combat because he knows he can beat her, but if she uses her powers, he would not stand a chance. Carol's response: she uses her powers to blast him hundreds  yards across the desert, flies over to him and pronounces "I have nothing to prove to you."

Yon-Rog tried to rely on Carol being "overly emotional" to win the argument. The issue: Carol was never "overly emotional." Having feelings and showing them does not make you overly emotional, at least not in the way that Yon-Rog thought Carol was. Carol cared about people, but her instincts to protect those and serve the greater good were always there. And in that moment, she was thinking logically. She may have or may not have been able to beat Yon-Rog in hand-to-hand combat, but she did not need to risk those odds. She was infinitely more powerful than him, so why risk it? These two scenes turn the emotional female trope on its head; they show that just because you care about people, does not mean that you are overly emotional.

Overall, "Captain Marvel"was a fantastic movie with a lot of positive messages, and I would highly recommend the movie for those seeking strong female representation.

Sexual Assault and Identity Revised, Part 2: Identity Subversion

This is a continuation of my last post. Here I will be examining more in-depth the situations introduced there. Again, I begin with a trigger warning. In this post I recount graphic jokes involving sexual assault and rape that will be dissected for their unintentional contribution to a discussion on how people subvert parts of their identities to better help communities of which they are a part, and some structural fixes to help survivors of sexual assault.

I pass no judgement about the experiences of those talked about in this piece; they were all put into an impossible situation and did what they thought was best at the time. I cannot fathom what I would do in that situation.

The first situation Kathrine Ryan addresses discusses actors who were relatively unknown (here meaning not famous), black, and female, in the context of their sexual assault by a famous, black, male actor, Bill Cosby. These assaults occurred in the 80s and 90s, a time when sexual assault victims were less likely to be believed. Because they were rarely believed, many did not report, and the two phenomena were in a feedback loop. drastically aggravating each other.

In this situation, multiple identities are at issue, and some were subverted for the benefit of others. Bill Cosby exerting his power over women ties into his identities as both famous and male, while the sexual assault he inflicts ties into the survivor's identities as unknown actors and as women. Additionally, these women said that they did not want to hinder Cosby's career because he was paving a way for black actors. These women essentially saw their identities as women as being at odds with their black identities. So, they subverted their identities as women to better serve their other identities, to benefit other constituencies. These victims did not want to feel like they were betraying the black community. That became a factor in them deciding not to report. Another prominent factor was the time the women were living in.

The second situation Kathrine Ryan addresses is an imaginary one that involves herself, a comedian who is famous, white, and female, and Tina Fey and Amy Schumer, two comedians who are both white, female, and arguably much more famous than Katherine. Fey and Schumer have also likely trailblazed the way for more women to be invited into comedic community.

This situation does not have the same race implications as the first situation, and also does not feature a subversion of identity. But, Ryan, albeit jokingly, says that she would keep quiet about a sexual assault by one of these women because of all they have done and are doing for women. In her hypothetical, she still seems willing to subvert her individual trauma for the betterment of her community, which is here aspiring female comics.

The last assault involves Kesha, a musician who is a white woman, and the trauma she experienced at the hands of Doctor Luke, a music producer who is white and a man. While this is mentioned only in passing (“Free Kesha”), it evokes a well-documented assault and legal fight involving Kesha and Dr. Luke. Kesha’s incident is completely different from the first two for two reasons.

First, Kesha reported her assault, in contrast to the first two situations I have described. Kesha even and even sued Dr. Luke for the harm he had caused her.

Second, Kesha was willing to give up her music career in order to get justice for her assault. She was willing to subvert her identity, her career, as a musician in order to try, with no guarantee, to get justice for the sexual assault she experienced because she was a woman. She was willing to subvert her needs as a musician to seek justice. This is the only situation where the assaulted survivor gave her identity as a woman primacy over her other identities.

So, what can we learn from this thought experiment? No one should be forced to choose between parts of their identity. We as a society should be doing everything in our power to remove the barriers to reporting sexual assault. If we do that, women will not be forced to subvert their needs to help others, for some apparent greater good. Two possible solutions could help.

First, in the first and second situations, better racial and gender representation on television would have given the attackers less power. In the first situation, if Bill Cosby had not been one of only a handful of black actors on television, his career and reputation would not have been as important to the black community. In the second situation, if the dearth of female-driven comedies and writer’s rooms did not exist, Kathrine would not have felt the need to make the joke about her not to be willing to report her imaginary sexual assault. Both instances show the real-world impact of diversity in media. The more diverse we make television and entertainment industries more broadly, the less power those in that industry wield.

Second, in the first and second situations, social stigma was cited as a barrier for survivors deciding not not to report. We can remove this barrier by believing survivors when they come forward. This would lessen the stigma surrounding the experience of surviving a sexual assault, and that would surely empower survivors.

If we look at both these issues, the first being cultural and the second being structural, then we can make it less likely sexual assault will occur. When it does occur, we will have made it easier for survivors of sexual assault to report their assault and get justice.

Sexual Assault and Identity Revised, Part 1: A Tale of Two (C/K)atherines

I want begin with a trigger warning. I recount graphic jokes involving sexual assault and rape, and I will dissect these in relation to their unintentional contribution to a discussion on how people subvert parts of their identities to better help communities they are part of, and some structural fixes to help survivors of sexual assault.

I pass no judgement about the experiences of those discussed in this piece; they were all put into an impossible situation and did what they thought was best at the time, and I cannot fathom what I would do in that situation.

This analysis will be split into two posts. The first post will go over the comedic piece and why the piece pairs nicely with Catherine MacKinnon’s theory of dominance feminism. The second post will look separately at the three events Katherine Ryan describes in her stand-up special It will also show that deciding whether or not to report sexual assault often involves multiple parts of a person’s identities, and a difficult decision to prioritize one or more over others.

Recently, to blow off some steam, I was recently watching Kathrine Ryan’s 2015 stand-up special. She is a white woman, born in Canada, who now resides as a single-mother in the United Kingdom. I have been struggling with a joke I heard on the special that went:

But on a serious note, a lot of women who were allegedly assaulted by Mr. Cosby were strong, power beautiful black women like me. And when asked, ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’ Ha! In addition to the many reasons why victims don’t come forward, these women were, like, ‘Hang on a minute. Look at the times.’ Because it didn’t happen today. Though it still happens today. Free Kesha. They were, like, ‘it happened a very long time ago,’ when these were struggling, young black actresses in America, and Mr. Cosby, a black man in the ‘80s there, was dominating television. They said, ‘I didn’t really feel like it was in my greater interest to bring that man down.’ And I have to tell you, on some level, as a female comedian, I kind of get that. Tina Fey could be raping me now, and I would tell no one. Amy Schumer could be wearing me like a watch, and I would just be like thank you for everything that you do for women in our industry.

While the jokes themselves are extremely crass and many would take offense at them, they accidentally stumble into a weird analysis of intersectional feminism and subverting identities that seem to address three completely different experiences of sexual assault.

Katherine Ryan accidentally stumbled into a Catherine MacKinnon feminist critique. Catherine MacKinnon idea of feminism has been labeled dominance or radical feminism. This strand of feminism stresses that the differences between men and women has become institutionalized in our government, laws, and even our thoughts. Further this difference gives men the dominant position in society and subordinates the women.

People even start to rationalize these differences, which gives the impression that the differences occur naturally. That in turn just reinforces people’s beliefs of why these difference should be codified or institutionalized.

So, what does Catherine MacKinnon dominance feminism have to do with Katherine Ryan’s stand up? Catherine MacKinnon describes sexual assault and rape as forms of discrimination on the basis of sex. MacKinnon believes that any time a man has sexual contact with a woman, even when it is consensual, he is exerting his sex over the women. MacKinnon states that the power dynamic between the two does not allow the woman to give full consent. This is especially heightened, however, when the woman declines sexual contact, but it is forced upon her. Therefore, MacKinnon believes, that any time there is unwanted sexual contact in the form of sexual assault or rape, this contact is a form of sex discrimination, and she believes that courts and legislatures should treat it as such.

This means, that in the three situations Katherine Ryan describes, two are forms of discrimination on the basis of sex.

In the first scenario, when Bill Cosby assaulted those two women, he was asserting himself over them, and was saying that he, as a male, was entitled to them as women, because they are worth less than them. He asserted what he perceived as his dominant position in society over their subordinate position. Catherine MacKinnon would qualify this as a form of sex discrimination.

In the third scenario, when Dr. Luke assaulted and tormented Kesha, he was also asserting himself over Kesha. Dr. Luke also saying that he, as a male, was entitled to do whatever he pleased to Kesha, because she, as a woman, is worth less than he is. He asserted what he perceived as his dominant position in society over her subordinate position. Catherine MacKinnon would also classify this as a form of sex discrimination.

However, the second scenario runs into a snag. When two women are committing sexual violence against another woman, how can they be asserting their dominance over her via their sex as women?

MacKinnon is familiar with this critique. She has often been accused of articulating a feminist vision that is heteronormative with her feminism. This depiction of sexual force does not explain why men assault other men, nor why women assault other women.

But I do agree with MacKinnon that heterosexual sexual assault is a form of dominance of the male sex over the female sex.

What about Brett? The media’s treatment of Malia Obama

While most people were discussing the legality of Donald Trump’s recent declaration of a national emergency due to the lack of funding for a southern border wall, the Daily Mail was working hard to ensure Americans did not miss out on the other, more shocking national emergency happening right under our noses: Malia Obama’s underage drinking.

In what the Daily Mail described as a “wild weekend,” Malia Obama is seen in a slew of (decently creepy) paparazzi shots holding, pouring, and (most egregiously) drinking rosé with a group of her female friends. While, for most, this could hardly be described as wild, the Daily Mail eagerly reminded readers Obama doesn’t turn 21 until July – making her rosé consumption illegal and very risqué.

Some jumped at the opportunity presented by the Daily Mail to pounce on the behavior of Obama, using the hashtags #privileged and #illegal. Conservative talk show host Andrew Wilkow tweeted, “Living like the 1%? Drinking underage? Let's see the #democrats and media scream about "privilege" here...” with the link to the Daily Mail article.

Some other examples of tweets criticizing Malia Obama’s underage drinking included (by @Krossbone2):

#MaliaObama is still drinking illegally. She's underage. It's that simple. Not calling to castrate her obviously, but some form of punishment should be leveled.  

And (by @littlejessbent):

Oh that’s right, the left can THREATEN Barron Trump (a child) but when u simply point out that Malia Obama (an adult) is underage drinking(illegal) & being a total disgrace, acting like trash, just like her parents, y’all freak out. Please 🙄Stay classy Obamas— U are NOT missed. 🤮#MAGA 

This isn’t the media’s first time criticizing Malia Obama for acting like her peers either. In November 2017 she was accused of being intoxicated at a Harvard football game in an article titled, “‘Drunk,’ Smoking & Kissing! Wild Coed Malia Obama Caught Partying at Harvard.” She was also dragged through the media in 2016 when she was caught on film smoking what appeared to be pot at Lollapalooza, a music festival. In that instance, headlines ranged from the scandalized, “EXPLOSIVE VIDEO: Malia Obama CAUGHT On Camera Smoking ‘Pot’” to some sites even going so far as to say Malia was going to be sent to rehab.

This also isn’t the first instance of sexist media coverage involving a daughter of a president (the media also ruthlessly criticized the Bush daughters while they were partying in college). To me, this seems to reek of exceptional overreaction given the allowances made to the actions of other male, adult political figures.

For example, a comparison that has emerged online is the double standard of the right critiquing Obama for her behavior, while many of these same critics were quick to give Supreme Court Justice Brett Kavanaugh a pass for his teenage drinking in the 1980s. Kavanaugh's underage drinking only came out as a side story to the much larger accusation of sexual assault by Dr. Christine Blasey Ford that was brought before the Senate during his confirmation hearings. While Kavanaugh denied Blasey Ford's allegations, he readily admitted to underage drinking, saying, "Yes, we drank beer. I liked beer. I still like beer." Following Kavanaugh’s confirmation, some of his supporters even celebrated with beer on social media. 

This recent media controversy (if you can even call it that) reminded me of difference feminism. In particular, Kingsley R. Browne’s article Sex and Temperament in Modern Society: A Darwinian View of the Glass Ceiling and the Gender Gap, in which Browne attribute certain characteristics to men and women based on the idea those characteristics are intrinsically attached to one’s sex, as well as our discussion of Carol Gilligan’s gender-linked analysis of ethical orientations.

Malia Obama, as a woman, has less freedom to behave like a young adult because of the limitations and expectations ascribed to women. She is expected to act maturely, as a caregiver, and without any sexual desires. So, when she is caught kissing boys and drinking alcohol while under the age of 21 it is “scandalous”, and when she smokes pot she is “bound for rehab.” But, when Brett Kavanaugh readily and, some may argue enthusiastically, admits to drinking underage and engaging in sexual conduct it’s just boys being boys.

Personally, the only opinion I have on Obama’s drinking is jealousy over the fact she gets to drink $80 rosé at a Miami beach club at 20, while I was forced to drink bagged wine in a frat basement at the same age. 

Feminist satire: is Saturday Night Live helping or hurting?

For almost half a century, Saturday Night Live (SNL) has entertained audiences around the world with clever, silly, and sometimes downright weird sketch comedy. As a self-proclaimed "SNL buff", I eat up every second of every show. However, my favourite sketches - the ones that make me laugh out loud and hurriedly send links to my friends - are the "feminist" sketches.

SNL's feminist sketches run the gamut in terms of subject matter and style. In "A Sketch for Women," male cast members continuously talk over their female counterparts, poking fun of "mansplaining". In "Permission," a rap/hip hop group demonstrates what respecting women's boundaries in a night club would look like. Most recently, in "Leave Me Alurn," women advertise a fake urn and lower back spikes that can be used to stop unwanted male advances.

All of the sketches leave me in stitches, but I think the reason they do is because they are rooted in reality. I am no stranger to mansplaining, inappropriate conduct on evenings out, or the unsettling feeling of a man grazing my lower back as he passes by. When SNL makes a sketch about one of my frustrating realities as a woman, though, I get to laugh at it instead of let it anger me. While I appreciate the laughs, I also wonder whether making light of these problems is perpetuating gender inequalities?

To many audiences I think the sketches make difficult subject matters approachable. Comedy, and SNL in particular, is an accessible platform. It allows people to address or encounter serious issues while maintaining a safe distance from them. One might recognize that the driving force behind "Leave Me Alurn" is the presumption that men have the right to invade women's spaces, but they do not have to engage with the seriousness of that premise because the jokes take center stage.

While this could be interpreted as dismissive of the underlying issues, there is something to be said for the effectiveness of creating a palatable platform. For example, Gilette's most recent ad, "We Believe: The Best Men Can Be," challenges toxic masculinity and references the #MeToo movement by encouraging men to "be better" than violence, bullying, and sexual harassment. The ad received almost instant criticism, largely from males, who were angry that Gilette seemed to presume that all males were bullies, violent people, or sexual harassers.

To me, it seems that the seriousness of the Gilette ad was immediately off-putting for male audiences. The ad confronted men with the suggestion that traditional gender roles have created a culture that breeds a certain type of man. The ad did not give space for viewers to make light of the serious message. Accordingly, men shut down; they were no longer receptive to the conversation about the negative effects of traditional masculinity.

In contrast, SNL's "Permission" similarly focuses on men's shortcomings as they pertain to sexual harassment and assault, but its reception is predominantly positive. YouTube comments on the video include countless men praising the song, if not for its lyrics (comedic and meaningful), then for its musical quality and use of popular rappers. On other feminist satire sketches, a common comment is somewhere along the lines of, "I don't agree with the premise, but you have to admit this is funny".

Similarly, comedic newspapers often have great success on social media. Reductress, a satiric online news platform with female-centric content, publishes quippy, humourous articles about the female experience. Some examples are: "Woman Nails Job Interview With Future Harasser," "Study Shows Women Have Happier Relationships When Their Partners Aren't Total Douchebags," and "Wow! This Working Class Mom Is Forced to Have It All". The humour brings in a wide audience, who then must acknowledge, to a certain extent, the underlying issue in order to get the joke.

SNL, Reductress, and other similar platforms provide an accessible, non-threatening avenue through which people can learn about inequalities. Feminist satire makes those who would otherwise not be receptive to the notion of gender inequalities, engage with them in some way. But, do women have to make fun of themselves for people to listen?

It is frustrating that entertainment/media seemingly caters to the sensitivities of more narrow-minded audiences. As evidenced by Gilette, content creators have to calculate how much reality - or seriousness - they can put into their content without alienating viewers. Soften it too much, though, and it is likely that the social or political commentary doesn't come across at all.

To this point, I think SNL generally strikes a good balance. Granted SNL's audience leans left, which means they can afford blunter statements with fewer repercussions, but SNL does not obscure a message in search of a laugh. There is usually a healthy balance of humour and commentary.

While SNL sketches may not be groundbreaking forces of social change, I think they serve an important purpose. Many people do not feel comfortable talking to family or friends about sexism, sexual harassment, etc., but they do feel comfortable sharing an SNL sketch that comments on it. SNL can be a great jumping off point for deeper conversation. It can also provide a visual representation of how ridiculous some inequalities are in real life.

I believe the idea of feminist SNL sketches is a good one, but I would be remiss not to mention the lack of experiences represented in the sketches thus far. It is no secret that SNL has a diversity problem. A cast member has never identified as Asian-American. The show's first openly gay cast member, Kate McKinnon, only joined the show in 2012. Furthermore, the show's supposed "diversity push" has resulted in only three men, and three women of colour on the current cast. In other words, SNL remains very white and heterosexual.

Because SNL lacks writers and actors with varied experiences, they do not showcase the full range of inequalities that women face, specifically those that deal with race, ethnicity, and sexuality. Until SNL hires individuals who can bring intersectional issues to light, the show's feminist sketches will continue to perpetuate a narrow set of issues related to gender.

At the end of the day Saturday Night Live exists to make people laugh. Its purpose is not to advocate for social change. However, as the show becomes more political, it must recognize that as an institution in American entertainment, it often influences the country's social milieu.

Currently, its politically and socially charged sketches (including feminist sketches) adequately toe the line between reality and comedy. But, without greater representation of the experiences women face, whatever good is done by feminist satire is minimized by the lack of experiences shown. Until this changes, I will keep watching and sharing the feminist messages that do appear on the show, but will find and share other outlets that represent diverse female experiences more robustly.

Sexual assault and identity

I want begin with a trigger warning at the beginning of this post. I recount  graphic jokes involving sexual assault and rape that will be dissected for their unintentional contribution to a discussion on how people subvert parts of their identities to better help communities they are part of, and some structural fixes to help survivors of sexual assault.

I pass no judgement about the experiences of those talked about in this piece; they were all put into an impossible situation and did what they thought was best at the time, and I cannot fathom what I would do in that situation.

I was recently watching Kathrine Ryan’s 2015 stand-up special to blow off some steam. She is a white woman, born in Canada, who now resides as a single-mother in the United Kingdom. I have been struggling with a joke I heard on the special that went:

But on a serious note, a lot of women who were allegedly assaulted by Mr. Cosby were strong, power beautiful black women like me. And when asked, ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’ Ha! In addition to the many reasons why victims don’t come forward, these women were, like, ‘Hang on a minute. Look at the times.’ Because it didn’t happen today. Though it still happens today. Free Kesha. They were, like, ‘it happened a very long time ago,’ when these were struggling, young black actresses in America, and Mr. Cosby, a black man in the ‘80s there, was dominating television. They said, ‘I didn’t really feel like it was in my greater interest to bring that man down.’ And I have to tell you, on some level, as a female comedian, I kind of get that. Tina Fey could be raping me now, and I would tell no one. Amy Schumer could be wearing me like a watch, and I would just be like thank you for everything that you do for women in our industry.

While the jokes themselves are extremely crass and many would take offense at them, they accidentally stumble into a weird analysis of intersectional feminism and subverting identities that seem to address three completely different experiences of sexual assault.

The first situation Kathrine Ryan addresses discusses actors who were relatively unknown (here meaning not famous), black, and female, in the context of their sexual assault by a famous, black, male actor, Bill Cosby. These assaults occurred in the 80s and 90s, a time when sexual assault victims were less likely to be believed. This lack of belief then led to a lack of reporting, and the two functioned in a feedback loop. drastically aggravating each other.

In this situation, multiple identities are at issue, and some were subverted for the benefit of others. Bill Cosby exerting his power over women ties into his identities as both famous and male, while the sexual assault he inflicts ties into the survivor's identities as unknown actors and as women. Additionally, these women said that they did not want to hinder his career because he was paving a way for black actors. These women essentially saw their identities as women as being at odds with their black identities. So, they subverted their identities as women to better serve their other identities, benefiting other aspects of their communities. They did not want to feel like they were betraying the black community. That became a factor in them deciding not to report. Another prominent factor was the time the women were living in.

The second situation Kathrine Ryan addresses is an imaginary one that involves herself, a comedian who is famous, white, and female, and Tina Fey and Amy Schumer, two comedians who are both white, female, and arguably much more famous than Katherine. Fey and Schumer have also likely trailblazed the way for more women to be invited into comedic community than Ryan has.

This situation does not have the same race implications as the first situation, and also does not feature a subversion of identity. But, Ryan, even though jokingly, says that she would keep quiet about a sexual assault by one of these women because of all they have done and are doing for women. In her hypothetical, she still seems willing to subvert her individual trauma for the betterment of her community, which is here aspiring female comics.

The last assault involves Kesha, a musician who is a white woman, and the trauma she experienced at the hands of Doctor Luke, a music producer who is white and a man. While this is mentioned only in passing (“Free Kesha”), it evokes a well-documented assault and legal fight involving Kesha and Dr. Luke. Kesha’s incident is completely different from the first two for two reasons.

First, Kesha reported her assault and even sued Dr. Luke for the harm he had caused her. In the first two situations, the survivors did not report.

Second, Kesha was willing to give up her music career in order to get justice for her assault. She was willing to lose her identity, her career, as a musician in order to try, with no guarantee, to get justice for the sexual assault she experienced because she was a woman. She was willing to subvert her needs as a musician to seek justice. This is the only situation where the assaulted survivor gave her identity as a woman primacy over her other identities.

So, what can we learn from this thought experiment? No one should be forced to choose between parts of their identity. We as a society should be doing everything in our power to remove the barriers to reporting sexual assault. If we do that, women will not be forced to subvert their needs to help others, for some apparent greater good. Two possible solutions could help in these situations.

First, in the first and second situations, better racial and gender representation on television would have given the attackers less power. In the first situation, if Bill Cosby had not been one of only a handful of black actors on television, his career and reputation would not have been as important to the black community. In the second situation, if the dearth of female-driven comedies and writer’s rooms did not exist, Kathrine would not have felt the need to make the joke about her not to be willing to report her imaginary sexual assault. Both instances show the real-world impact of diversity in media. The more diverse we make television and entertainment industries more broadly, the less power those in that industry wield.

Second, in the first and third situations, social stigma was cited as a barrier for survivors deciding not not to reporting. We can remove this barrier by believe survivors when they come forward. This would lessen the stigma surrounding the experience of surviving a sexual assault would be less.

If we look at both these issues, the first being cultural and the second being structural, then we can make it less likely that there will be sexual assault, and when there is, then we can make it easier for survivors of sexual assault to report their assault and get justice.

A feminist joto's take on Playboy

I was about thirteen years old when I stumbled upon a discarded Playboy magazine. It was on the floor of a public, single-stall bathroom. The cover of the magazine immediately peaked my interest. I reached for it and leafed through it as I went about by business. Admittedly, by that age I knew I was what older Latinas referred to as curioso, a questionable euphemism that some Latinx folks use to refer to jotos and gender non-conforming individuals—it’s akin to calling someone precious. And they were right. By then I knew I was somehow “different” from other boys: I found myself “crushing on” boys and not girls, developing friendships mostly with girls, and distancing myself from stereotypically masculine activities, including sports. Indeed, I dreaded the weekends, when my father would seize control of the tv, and I had to pretend to cheer for Club America, his favorite soccer team. But I did enjoy screaming “gooooooooooooool” whenever a player scored a goal.

And yet the contents of the magazine mesmerized me. I was still learning English then, so I paid little attention to the text. Instead, I perused the photo spreads, each of which led to a moment of solemn introspection: “Is this what I’m supposed to like?” I looked at the models’ breasts, “nada” (nothing). I looked further below, “tampoco” (still nothing). I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to feel, but I didn’t feel anything. Still, I remained captivated.

I continued examining the pictures carefully. The models were beautiful, glamorous, and radiated confidence. Their pictures made me wonder if I would ever exude femininity like them, a thought that confirmed I was curioso. By then at least ten minutes had passed, so I quickly tossed the magazine aside, cleaned up, and walked out. Today, I wonder if that discarded Playboy magazine answered other questions that questioning teenagers may have had.

In retrospect, perusing that Playboy magazine forced me to confront my sexuality and gender identity over the course of a bathroom break. No, I didn’t walk out of the stall screaming, “soy joto” (I’m gay). But as I forged my identity moving forward, I felt empowered knowing I enjoyed the performance of but wasn’t attracted to femininity—a topic I’ll discuss in a later post. For that reason, I have a somewhat positive attitude toward Playboy.

Some would argue, however, that Playboy magazine is inherently antithetical to feminism because it perpetuates women’s sexual objectification. But that argument is too facile. Look around! Contemporary capitalist culture is predicated on sexual objectification. Indeed, H & M, Abercrombie & Fitch, Victoria’s Secret, etc., ads rival many of Playboy magazine’s “soft-core” images. But Playboy magazine at least has the decency to admit it uses adult models for adult entertainment purposes. In contrast, many retailers’ ads sexually objectify (underage) women and men without “for adults” labels, and the retailers peddle the ads for mass consumption free of charge. Even our food ads employ sexual imagery to wet our appetites—remember these Carl’s Jr ads? I can’t recall the last time ate a hamburger in that manner. Thus, if Playboy undermines the feminist cause, so do a lot of soft-core ads, and it behooves us, feminists, to think twice about the retailers we patronize since our money may very well be spent on soft-core ads.

That is not to say that Playboy is not without problems. Indeed, one problem is its lack of diversity with respect to race, look, size, and ableness. Arguably, if Playboy magazine is going to continue structuring its consumers’ desires, it should at least structure them in a more inclusive fashion. And we should demand the same from advertisers. Personally, I’m glad I found that Playboy when I did because it cleared up important questions early in my life. If I had similar questions today, a Victoria’s Secret catalogue may suffice.

The post-Harvey Weinstein landscape

If you've paid attention to the news in the last two weeks, you've undoubtably seen the name Harvey Weinstein quite a bit. Weinstein, co-founder of juggernaut film studio The Weinstein Company, was recently fired after dozens of women in the industry publicly revealed that they had been sexually assaulted by him. The New York Times did a good job of recapping the story so far. Particularly eye-opening, there were claims of sexual assault from some of Hollywood's biggest leading women like Angeline Jolie and Eva Green. This is not to say famous women are worthier of attention, it's intended merely to highlight the extent of Harvey Weinstein's disregard for women. It takes a particular state of mind for a person to think they can assault some of the world's most high-profile women without consequence. For those interested, Jezebel has a running list of the women who have come out against Harvey Weinstein.

Beyond Harvey Weinstein, this story is significant for other reasons. This scandal has revealed quite a bit about our society, good and bad. Starting with the good, women and men alike took social media by storm with "#metoo" as a means of raising awareness and a show of solidarity in the wake of the Weinstein scandal. The hashtag was used by those who had experienced sexual assault in their own lives. As Facebook and Twitter feeds drowned in #metoo posts, many including myself reflected in horror as friends and family put a face to sexual assault and just how pervasive the problem really is. While this is nothing to feel positive about, it did at least help show the gravity of the situation. The #metoo phenomenon has led to increased conversation about sexual assault and how to remedy it. More specifically, many men responded with detailed "#Iwill" commitments to do better to prevent sexual assault in the future. 

The #metoo campaign was not entirely uncontroversial. For many it is traumatizing to see how pervasive the problem of sexual assault is, leading to a feeling of inescapability. Additionally the #metoo campaign faces the same major challenge that all other social media campaigns do, having a real effect beyond creating conversation. Hashtags, promises, and conversation are meaningless unless they can lead to real concrete action. This does not mean that the conversation is entirely useless. No matter how small a step it might be, it is in fact forward progress. 

Turning the spotlight back to Hollywood, it'll be interested to see how the industry responds. While a superficial look may make it seem like the correct steps have been taken, a deeper look reveals otherwise. The Weinstein Company decided to part ways with Harvey Weinstein but only after he first attempted to distance himself from the company by taking an indefinite leave of absence.  It's hard to keep from assuming that The Weinstein Company decided to fire Harvey Weinstein primarily as a business decision. If it had been more profitable to keep Weinstein in his position or allow him to distance himself for a while before returning, the company would have probably done that. Recent comments from industry insiders suggest that Harvey Weinstein's decades-long pattern of sexual misconduct was no secret. It is difficult to believe that the board of directors of The Weinstein Company were less privy to their co-founder's reputation than the rest of Hollywood yet they took no action until the recent outpouring of confessions. 

Melanie McFarland of Salon shares my concerns, going as far as to say, "But the grim truth is that women will find it difficult, if not impossible, to beat the Hollywood system because men in power do not want them to." It's hard not to be pessimistic, or perhaps simply realistic, about what we can expect from Hollywood in the post-Harvey Weinstein world. One of the only few things for certain in this moment is that there is a golden opportunity to correct course. With all of the recent attention on sexual assault there is no time like the present for both Hollywood and society as a whole to take the next steps towards a more healthy future. These steps will be uncomfortable, they'll require require us to be honest with ourselves about the ugly ways we've allowed people, particularly women, to suffer. The easy way out will  be to continue with business as usual but we cannot allow that to happen. We must strive to make the Harvey Weinstein scandal the watershed moment some believe that is it, not just another blimp on the radar. 

Attitudes to female appearance and body stereotyping: what can women do?

In my first blog on women in sport, I suggested that attitudes to female appearance and body stereotyping present barriers to girls’ acceptance in sport on their own terms. What I didn’t do was consider what women ought to do about appearance/body stereotyping in general.

Perhaps, we could begin by finding a vision to inspire us all? Personally, I’m inspired by the simple ideal espoused by singer and actress, Ariana Grande. In a tweet two years ago, Grande expressed frustration at the continual media focus on issues like her appearance, the boy she might be dating and what she saw as an ever present misogyny in the American film and music business. Her longing was for a world where every woman would be far more valued for their personal accomplishments and who they are as individuals. Who could argue with that?

The only question, then, is how women get themselves there. Perhaps the answer lies in more and more women, as a collective, forcing change by resisting gender stereotyping from cradle to grave? Many feminists, for example, claim that individuals, almost from birth, undergo a process of socialisation through which they are taught “gender appropriate” behaviours, attitudes, roles and activities. According to this theory, girls are generally conditioned to value appearance, while boys are encouraged to value strength and material success. This is revealed in the toys girls and boys play with: the Barbie doll vs. the action figure (or, as feminists might see it, the pretty girl vs. the strong man). Such toys, coupled with parent encouragement, subtly teach girls that their most important attribute is their appearance.

For many feminists, therefore, the notion that girls are normally interested in appearance and boys are strong and competitive is not natural. It is instead artificially inculcated from birth. To feminists, this gender socialisation undermines the natural individuality of both girls and boys. Thus, as girls grow into women, they are encouraged to believe that they will be more widely accepted when their physical appearance conforms to what society values. Since, as feminism argues, we live in a patriarchal society, the valued female appearance and body type is shaped by the contemporary preferences of heterosexual men. This “ideal” is then propagandised through the media and popular culture. The consequences of such valuation, feminists often maintain, is that women, whose appearance does not conform to patriarchal preferences, are more likely to be marginalised and to struggle to earn public acceptance.

For some, the best way for women to overcome appearance and body stereotyping is through what is popularly known as ‘body positivism’. “Embrace”, a Netflix documentary directed by body positivity activist, Taryn Brumfitt, suggests that women, are culturally conditioned to hate their bodies, and that their approximation to beauty is far too often allowed to define their social value. The body positivity movement seeks to challenge this by encouraging women to learn instead to “love their bodies”. Body positivism is not an expressly “feminist” movement and not all the women featured in “Embrace” would necessarily identify as feminists. Yet, I couldn’t help but notice the clear parallels between feminist and body positivity gender conditioning theory. Could this, then, be the action women need to take to break down gender stereotyping and attain the Ariana Grande vision of being valued for her personal accomplishments and who she is as an individual?

Perhaps or perhaps not. I would contend that the modelling industry ought to be regarded as the common arch-enemy of both the feminist and body positivity movements. This is because it is a leading propagator of female body stereotyping in magazines and on TV. Body positivism is rightly critical of the modelling industry for that reason. Yet its attempts to “change the face” of modelling to bring it more into line with the values of the body positivity movement have been, at best, feeble.

In ‘Embrace’, Brumfitt interviews Mia Freedman, former editor of women’s magazine Cosmopolitan, who describes some of the barriers she encountered during her quest to diversify the female body images used in her publication. Freedman banned diets and tried to include more women of different races and body shapes. However, retail brands refused to provide clothes for her non-stereotypical models because they didn’t want anyone bigger than a size 8 (AUS) associated with their products. Photographers and makeup artists also refused to take part in shoots on the same basis.

For me, the obvious conclusion from the Cosmopolitan story is that body positivism’s idea that women can successfully overcome female body stereotyping by learning to love their bodies is wrong headed. Sorry body positivity, but that is not, I believe, what women primarily need to do. What women need to do first is to recognise that the problem here is not their attitude, rather it is the attitude of society as a whole. Therefore, it is society that needs to change, not women. Society should instead be encouraged to ‘embrace’, from cradle to grave, the Ariana Grande vision. All parts of society must learn to respect every girl’s (and boy’s) individuality. It should never be allowed to compress children psychologically into standard, stereotyped gender roles that are, more often than not, entirely unnatural to them as separate and unique human beings.

This, to me, is what feminism is all about. And it is only when society is fully altered through feminism that women will truly become more ‘body positive’. Feminism therefore, to me, is exactly what women ought to do about appearance/body stereotyping and is the true path to the Ariana Grande vision.

Squeezing into sexism?

In my most recent post, I alluded to classical ballet’s flirtation with feminism in the form of Isadora Duncan, a 19th Century American dancer, refusing to wear a restrictive whale-boned corset while performing, and instead opted for a loose-fitting Grecian tunic. While this defiant outfit change may garner a “so what?” reaction from some, her intrepid move inspired me to reflect upon the corset as a symbol so deeply enshrined in history as an instrument of female oppression, but also as a possible symbol of female emancipation.

The “progressive” intellectual and social reformer Havelock Ellis once wrote that the evolution from “horizontality to verticality” was more difficult for females than males, and also that a “woman might be physiologically truer to herself if she went always on all fours”. The blatant comparison drawn between women and base four-legged animals aside, the opinion of such an “expert” instilled a grotesque image of women as feeble, spineless creatures into society from the Middle Ages to the Mid Twentieth Century. It’s no wonder that at the pinnacle of their popularity in the Victorian era, the garb of a ‘respectable’ and ‘decently dressed’ lady demanded a corset, with anything less only insinuating loose morals.

So what did the traditional corset represent? The entire design of corsets with their cinched waists that are quite literally breath-taking, aimed to fabricate the ‘ideal’ hourglass figure in order to satiate the mainstream male sexual desires of the hay day. A slim waist with accentuated hips and breasts subliminally equates to fertility which in turn equates to childbearing capacity, apparently. Men made up the vast majority of corset makers, with Louis XIV of France reported to have ordered a guild of female dressmakers to make all the clothes for women in French court, apart from riding habits and corsets, which were left exclusively in the domain of men. So while male appetites defined the silhouette of the woman, male hands too contributed to their caging.

While the artist Manet once remarked “the satin corset may be the new nude of our era”, when referring to his infamous painting ‘Nana’, the inherent sexuality of the corset has and will always continue to ooze. The popularity of corsetry had fluctuated and nearly fizzled out since Manet’s time, yet we have Madonna to thank for so kindly reviving the draconian garment during her 1990 Blonde Ambition Tour, in which she collaborated with Jean-Paul Gaultier to produce the iconicpink cone bra corset. Riding the wave of sex-positive feminism, Madonna’s corset was a distinctly different creature from the antiquity all had grown accustomed to, adding fuel to the flames of the Underwear as Outerwear movement.

This concept that underwear should be worn over clothes, not under them, or even by itself (why not?), bolsters the arguments of sex-positive feminism that have been bubbling over since the early ‘80s. Despite the centuries of tight-laced terror inflicted upon women, somehow the corset has come to embody this in full. We need only look to the 2017 Spring/Summer collections of countless couturiers for our proof. Along with printed tees proclaiming “we should all be feminists”, Christian Dior’s first female creative director Maria Grazia-Chiuri, showcased the emerging trend with a subtle nod to their boned brethren. Isabel Marant, Les Copains, Stella McCartney,MISBHV, Fenty x Puma, to name but a few, point to the plethora of designers rooting for the revival of corsetry, albeit in a deconstructed sense.

Somehow in the tumultuous lifespan of this garment, the Kardashians enter the fray. Their iconic pedalling of waist trainers as exercise and weight loss aids serve only to remind us that the corset in any shape or form is repugnant to feminist ideals. Kim, Khloé and Kylie being the most flagrant offenders, attempt to reinforce this idea of centuries past that the hourglass figure equates to beauty by pawning it off as “body positivity”. Unfortunately for the rest of us lacking in surgically endowed curves, waist trainers won’t give us anything other than indigestion and a sense of inferiority.

Women’s bodies have never been good enough, a fact that has repeatedly reasserted itself throughout history, and corsetry hasn’t been alone in highlighting this. From foot binding to fad diets, there has never really been an acceptance of the uniqueness and individuality of the female form. Although sex-positive feminism and the Underwear as Outerwear movement have characterised modern day corsetry as being a distinct choice that women have control over as opposed to a mandatory imposition, in light of what the corset originally and still fundamentally embodies, it’s safe to say no amount of Madonna’s or Kim Kardashian’s will ever squeeze me back into this form of sexism.

MacKinnon: From Sexual Agency to Desire

After reading excerpts from Catherine MacKinnon’s works, I wonder: do we enjoy sexual agency? MacKinnon’s dominance framework suggests that women do not because their sexual agency is an illusion that furthers their subjugation within our patriarchal state. In other words, women’s sexual agency is a form of false consciousness that conceals how women’s sexuality within heterosexual relations benefits men.

I don’t wholly agree with MacKinnon, but I do agree with her milder proposition that sexual agency is constrained. Indeed, not only is sexual agency constrained along gender, sexual orientation, and erotic lines, it’s also constrained by numerous institutions, fields, and practices emanating from and operating within our patriarchal state. For example, until recently, the medical field constrained sexual agency by medicalizing certain sexual practices, including some fetishisms and BDSM. Yet, MacKinnon elides over how our patriarchal state may also constrain men’s sexual agency. Our justice system, for example, used to constrain men’s sexual agency by criminalizing same-sex sexual conduct among men through the selective application of sodomy laws. Thus, if MacKinnon is correct and heterosexuality buttresses our patriarchal state, then clearly gay cis-men do not enjoy the same degree of sexual agency that straight cis-men do. 

I do not agree, however, with MacKinnon’s implication that because women’s sexual agency is constrained women therefore lack sexual agency. Instead, all individuals face constraints within which they exercise their sexual agency. And, in turn, individuals use whatever sexual agency they possess to negotiate the boundaries of those constraints, which are effectively in flux. Take the protagonist Ana Steele in the movie Fifty Shades of Grey. At first, her sexual agency is constrained by her libido: her pronounced sexual attraction to Christian Grey, and her quest for sexual pleasure. This prompts her to coyly negotiate a detailed BDSM-contract with Grey that outlines the sexual practices he’s allowed to perform on her. And though neither character tendered consideration to seal the deal, Ana had a voice during negotiations: she rejected the use of tape during bondage play. As silly as the scene may be, it illustrates that Ana had some sexual agency even if patriarchy loomed in the background. But I am sure that MacKinnon knew that much, so there must be more to her argument of sexual agency than meets the eye.

I think MacKinnon’s work raises a more provocative question: is a woman’s sexual desire her own? Or, more generally, are our sexual desires our own? This is a more provocative question because desire, being psychological in nature, may precede and shape individuals’ sexual agency. Further, it is difficult to imagine sexual desire as existing outside what is socially and sexually intelligible, and thus socially and sexually possible. But as dominance theory implies, it is our patriarchal state that moderates what is intelligible. If this is so, then Ana Steele didn’t have bargaining power at the table. Instead, she was a slave to her patriarchally moderated desires. But couldn’t the same be said of Christian Grey?

The numerous questions and responses that MacKinnon’s structuralist analysis elicits confirm the value of her work. Does MacKinnon’s dominance theory explain gender relations? Only partly. Does her theory elide over how our patriarchal state also subjugates men? Yes. Nevertheless, MacKinnon’s dominance theory provides a nice segue into more nuanced analyses of gender, sexuality, and erotic practices. Indeed, MacKinnon’s suggestion that our patriarchal state delimits what is socially and sexually possible (for women), is reminiscent of Judith Butler’s “matrix of intelligibility,” which is what allows for (gender) identities to be socially viable.

Thank you MacKinnon for pushing me to question my sexual agency, and desires!