Are you a feminist?

For our first class of the semester, our professor requested that we come equipped with answers for the following two questions: “are you a feminist?” and “what does feminism mean to you?” I recall mulling over my answers in the days leading up to first period. I knew I was going to answer "yes" to the first question but was unsure as to what my reasoning would be. Now, some fourteen weeks on, after our many discussions, readings and documentaries, I feel confident in answering these questions with clarity and force.

I have become acutely aware of the gender issues permeating our society. I find myself critiquing the media more harshly, particularly when women’s physiques are addressed. The materials discussed in class e.g. the documentary “Missrepresentation”, have prompted this shift of mindset.

I used to not think twice when looking at women’s magazine covers, almost all of which advertise some ‘diet-tips’ or ‘exercise regime’ article. I now see through the transparency of these journalists and recognize that their sole desire is to target vulnerable women in the hope of boosting magazine sales. I have also gained insights in to my classmates’ similar mindsets through their well-articulated blogposts on these issues.

I particularly took offense to the “locker room talk” scandal which surfaced in the media towards the end of Trump’s presidential campaign. Had I been reading the reports back in my home country, Ireland, I most-likely wouldn’t have felt such intense outrage.  I would have deemed myself to be far-removed from the matter and thought it not to have warranted much contemplation. However, considering my knowledge gained throughout this class and hearing what my peers had to say on the matter, I felt more personally involved in the harm perpetuated by Mr. Trumps comments.

I decided to ask a few of my friends (other international exchange students here in Davis) the same two questions I grappled with in the beginning of this class. I was curious to see if their views reflected mine. The answers are given from three females and one male, all of whom have never taken a gender-studies class. (I have given my friends pseudonyms to protect their anonymity.)

Q1. Are you a feminist?

Q2. What does feminism mean to you?

Mary:

1. Sort of, depending on how you define feminism.  

2. To me it should be the equality of men and women, particularly in terms of career opportunities and expectations. However, I do not support some radical feminism that goes against men to the point that it becomes sexist. Also, when it comes down to it, men and women are biologically different and feminism needs to understand this. Men will always be better at some things and vice versa.

Martha

1. I believe I am a feminist but I hesitate to classify myself as such because of the stigma attached to it

2. Feminism means equality for everyone. It strives for equal opportunities for men and women in all aspects of life.

Mandy

1. I believe I am a feminist in a way but I am not a radical feminist

2. Feminism represents the belief that men are not superior to women, that everybody is equal and women are not stereotyped into one specific role/category in life.

Mark

1. I am a feminist because equality is the right thing to do

2. Right now feminism is associated with man-hating which is not something I’m on board with so sometimes I prefer to distance myself from the term ‘feminist’.

The above answers are not wholly dissimilar to the ones I gave. Much like my friends, I was only able to address feminism in vague terms. I shied away from discussing the topic in depth to avoid appearing frigid or being labelled a ‘man hater’. I can now take pride in announcing that I am feminist and can articulate my views with confidence. I believe that a large part of being a feminist is giving other women the freedom to make choices which I may not necessarily make myself.

These past fourteen weeks have benefited my legal education and enhanced my personal development. I now feel the obligation to pass on this enlightenment to my friends and family, encouraging them to push the boundaries which they may have sub-consciously set in their own minds surrounding the feminist movement.

Navigating Donald Trump's Election as a Nepali American Woman (Part I)

Looking back on my life, there have been many moments where my identity of being a mixed-race woman with an immigrant family has come to the forefront of my consciousness. From the frequent question of "what are you?" that I have learned to brush off over the years to the more shaking, like when a truck of men yelled at my family and I to "go home!" in the wake of 9/11. Most recently it has been the election of Donald Trump and the conversations that society and my peers are having in the election's wake. 

Back in August I traveled back to Seattle to visit my family, and the moment I got off of the plane and was in the car with my father he started talking about the impending election. Khizr Khan had just given his moving DNC speech, and my father could not stop talking about it. My father finally had someone speaking up in politics that shared his reality - a brown immigrant who loved the United States and the inclusive democracy it was supposed to stand for. However, even with the happiness of seeing Khizr Khan speak my father expressed how concerned he was over the election and his place in the country. I tried to reassure him that Trump had no chance of winning but he told me wearily "Joanie, the people that hate guys like me are the guys that will vote for Trump". 

Post-election my father's words now hold a sense of foreboding that I did not grasp at the time. My father's belief then, that if Trump were elected it would be because of animus and distrust of minority and immigrant communities, has been a topic highly discussed in media outlets in the aftermath of Trump's election. The media has also focused on something else which my father could not predict: that a majority of white women voted for Trump. 

Many different authors and articles have tackled the question of why so many white women chose to vote for Trump, a candidate who had been accused of sexual misconduct and had been recorded making comments saying he engaged in actions that would constitute sexual assault under the law. The Pew Research Center found that 62% of rural white women voted for Trump. This high percentage may be attributed to the appeal of Trump's populist message that hit home with a rural population, which the Center's previous study showed were concerned with a lack of jobs and financial anxieties prior to voting in the November election. What about the women who lived in large cities who did not feel the same financial pressures that the women in rural America did? The Atlantic looked at this question, and found the answer may lie in a multitude of explanations from party loyalty to a desire for change. But there is an explanation for a Trump vote that would cover all white female voters, "and that, of course, is a racist view of the world that privileges white supremacy over every other issue". 

Every white woman who voted for Trump had their own set of daily realities, problems, and ideas that motivated their choice. Some, maybe many, may not have done so because they actively hated immigrants. However, I am left with a pang of sadness in my heart. While animus may not have motivated a Trump vote, rhetoric that disparaged minorities and policies that threatened immigrants were not enough to stop them from voting. This has left me feeling disconnected from the country, realizing the majority of the United States does not fathom the issues I face as a mixed woman with an immigrant family. Or maybe they do realize it, and they just don't care. Soon I would face the harsh understanding that many of my peers and those at my educational institution were no different from the country at large that I now feel so removed from.

*Please stay tuned for Part II of this blog post where I will go into the conversations I encountered in the wake of the election at law school, and why I think intersectional feminism can be a helpful and guiding force in the future! 

Teaching's 2%: part 1

Think back through all of the teachers that you’ve had in your life.  For simplicity’s sake, let’s assume that you had one main teacher for every year of schooling from kindergarten to 12^th grade; that’s 13 different people.  How many of them were women? How many were white? If you are like most American school children, those numbers would be 10 and 11 respectively. 

In undergrad, I was friends with a handful of future teachers, and one night one of them invited me to a movie screening that the Black Students Association was hosting about systemic racism in public education.  I had a casual understanding of most of the information that the movie presented, but one statistic jumped out at me, and I haven’t been able to shake it in the years since.  Only 2% of America’s teachers are black men. 

Seventy-five percent of America’s teachers are women, and 83% are white.  Along with nursing, teaching is one of the only professions to be dominated by women.  When women first broke into the work force, these fields were basically their only options for work.  As such, it came to be seen as women’s work.  This seems like a victory for feminism, but is it?

In the last few weeks of class, we’ve been focusing on some of the outlier effects of a patriarchal society.  The Mask You Live In documentary reminded me of that other documentary I saw back in undergrad.  Specifically the teacher, Ashanti Branch, talking about being there for his students and helping them learn a different type of masculinity than the one presented in popular culture. 

Black boys are in the center of a tension between that view of masculinity that the film explained to us and the way that students are expected to act by their white educators.  Black students are 3 times more likely to be suspended or expelled than their white counterparts.  Boys are more likely than girls to be suspended in low performing schools.  Putting black men in teaching roles would likely help to close these gaps.  These men offer understanding and grace to students who remind them of what their own schooling was like.  There is evidence that children do better academically when they have ateacher who is their same race.  

While I still believe all children should be taught how to learn from people who are not like them, I don’t think that value should disproportionately affect minority students.  And if there’s a chance to disrupt the school-to-prison pipeline, shouldn’t we give it all we’ve got? (https://www.aclu.org/issues/juvenile-justice/school-prison-pipeline)

Got any bruises from your last beating? Here’s how to hide them with makeup!

On November 23rd, 2M TV aired a makeup tutorial segment featured on their morning TV show Sabahyate. It is safe to say that usually, makeup tutorials do not get a lot of attention in the mainstream media or create any uproar. Although, this time, the tutorial went viral on the Internet and numerous newspapers published articles about it.

In the video, the makeup artist explains how to hide traces of domestic violence and demonstrates how to effectively apply concealer and foundation on bruises. While the artist is applying cosmetics on a woman’s fake bruises and marks, she and the host casually make the following statements, among other advice:

Make sure to use loose powder to fix the makeup, so if you have to work throughout the day, the bruises don’t show.
After the beating, this part is still sensitive, so don’t press.
We hope that these beauty tips help you carry on with your normal life. (The Washington Post)

2M is Morocco’s national TV channel owned by the Government of Morocco. According to 2M TV's website, they wish to promote gender equality and the deconstruction of gender stereotypes in their programs and policies. 2M even has publicly available guidelines in which they acknowledge the  national channel’s impact on Moroccan society and commit to value and present women’s image in a way that advocates for gender equality.

The show aired two days prior to the UN’s international day for the elimination of violence against women. Apparently, Sabahyate’s decision makers thought it would be timely and appropriate to broadcast a tutorial about hiding traces of violence. However, as soon as the segment was posted on the Internet, social media responded rather virulently. Moroccan people, as well as others, wrote outraged Tweets and posts. More than 3,000 people signed the Change.org ‘Don’t cover domestic violence with makeup’ petition that was launched in reaction to the segment. The petitioners wrote:

As Moroccan women and as feminist activists in Morocco, and in the name of all Moroccan people, we denounce the message of normalization with violence against women.

Two days after the show aired, on the international day for the elimination of violence against women, 2M released a statement on their Facebook page. The channel thanked the citizens who showed their vigilance through social media and explained:

Management believes that this segment is completely inappropriate and displays a lack of editorial understanding due to the sensitivity and seriousness of the subject of violence against women.
This approach is in total contradiction with the editorial identity of the channel and […] the commitment of 2M for 27 years in favor of the defense of women’s rights.

Considering the media’s influence and role as a national TV channel, it is somehow comforting to see that 2M reacted quickly and issued this apology statement – or 'clarification' as they named it. It is also somehow uplifting to witness social media’s force as a positive tool to denounce this type of insidious message. Perhaps this internet buzz could lead to more awareness about the issue of normalized violence, in a similar way to the Salvation's Army's ad campaign in which they used the Dressgate buzz to condemn abuse against women (more on this in this blog post).

Violence against women and domestic violence are sadly common phenomena. In Morocco, a 2015 national report found that almost two out of three women have suffered from gender violence. Of these two-thirds, 55% reported conjugal violence. In the US, according to The Huffington Post’s statistics, one in four women will be victims of severe violence by an intimate partner in their lifetimes, and a woman is beaten every nine seconds. These shocking statistics highlight how critical it is to raise awareness, to reject violence in any form and to take action. The makeup tutorial made violence look like it was an acceptable part of a woman’s everyday life. The show’s promotion of concealing bruises contributed to victim-shaming instead of blaming the person responsible for the beating. The video made it seem normal to camouflage bruises as part of a beauty routine. It is absolutely not normal and should not be presented as such.

Gurls Talk

Gurls Talk is a movement that strives to create a platform for girls to openly share their experiences and feelings in a safe and trusting environment. Gurls Talk was set up by Adwoa Aboah, the beautiful, British freckle-faced model who has experienced the hardest and darkest times of her life over the past two years.  She struggled with depression and addiction which amounted to an attempted suicide at the end of 2014.

Now sober, Adwoa is using her battle as a stepping-stone for other young girls. She has created a safe space for others to talk about the issues which every girl faces growing up from losing your virginity to getting your first period. Gurls Talk is a forum where female creativity is used as a tool for change. 

She first launched @gurlstalk on Instagram and now has a growing fan base of over 58K followers. As the current face of Calvin Klein and the former face of Topshop, she has turned the perceived 'glamourous' supermodel stereotype on its head. Her inspirational Instagram account addresses important feminist talking points with the aim of giving girls a voice.  

Adwoa snowballed on top of the success of her Instagram account by setting up the Gurls Talk website earlier this year. The site is a private page and invites girls of all ages to submit their questions/concerns/comments via email. From there she issues a response and welcomes them to a chat group of other individuals who are sharing similar experiences. Anonymous submissions may also be given. 

Gurls Talk is like the best friend every girl wishes she had growing up. The forum documents Adwoa’s road to recovery and speaks out on a range of issues such as body image, feminism, self-perception and empowerment. She cites the likes of Lena Dunham and Meryl Streep as inspirational role models,while giving out a healthy dose of inspiration herself:  

"You can be a mother of five [and] a business woman...You can be anyone you want".

This March, Adwoa’s best friend, model and actress Cara Delevingne also opened up about her battle with depression on twitter. The tweet explaining her rough patch of “self-hatred” was shared over 10,000 times. This highlights the absence of mental-health discussion in the public eye today.

Adwoa explains that the most important message she would like girls to take away from “Gurlstalk” is to “be vulnerable, open and true to yourself.” She wishes to shift society’s focus from the academic to the emotional. She passionately believes in this emotional/academic equilibrium which so many young women have lost in modern day society,

"... there has to be a middle ground between dealing with emotions and educating on mental health, addiction and eating disorders as well as teaching kids how to balance their time tables". 

In these turbulent times, it is very refreshing to see a passionate and emotionally aware role model like Adwoa Aboah. Let’s use this platform to speak up, we can all get involved in the conversation with the hashtag #letsgetgurlstalking. 

How to Respond to this Election - Part I "Everyday Activism"

The results of the 2016 election of Donald Trump had been affecting me for over a week before I found a way to articulate my sentiments about it. “Found a way” is incorrect; my emotions, one day, spilled out of me in a torrent of words that rushed like a river ice-floe. Along with many others in this country, I had been alternating between grief and helplessness, between anger and resentment, between despair and hope for seven days and then, finally, I spoke.

Though it was just to my partner Ben, alone in the car, what a relief it was to say:

“I’m despondent to live in a country who has elected a leader that, despite his feeble arguments to the contrary, has indicated that misogyny and sexual assault of women are more than OK with him. I’m terrified that my beloved compatriots from marginalized racial and ethnic groups can now be openly discriminated against and that all our efforts to reform police racism and ethnocentrism may be slowed. I'm sad that queer people might soon struggle to see same-sex partners in the hospital. I'm anxious for the future of our environment. And . . .” There were tears in my eyes now, “Last Tuesday I woke up believing that a woman could ascend to the highest position of power in this county. On Wednesday, I found, to my disbelief, that she can’t. Not yet. And perhaps she never will in my lifetime. I feel like women will be second-class citizens for much longer than I expected.”

I couldn't believe my own words, but there they were sitting between us as we speed around the curve of the 101 North into the Mission district of San Francisco. When we got to the Mission, I looked around at the brilliant multi-faceted community of that neighborhood. I thought of all the aspects of humanity that I love there. My thoughts went something like:

LGBTQIA folks of the Mission remind me that love and relationships can reach beyond prosaic boundaries. Thinking about them, I hear the opinions of Trump nominees like Steve Bannon and Jeff Sessions echoing around my head. Rich cultural traditions bring amazing art, food, spirituality, and diverse thinking to the Mission. My stomach turns when I think of the sheer panic that many immigrants will now live in. The variety of race, skin tone, ethnicity, and background in collaboration makes the Mission a space of kinship and appreciation across differing experience. I am filled with anguish about the highly racist environment our president-elect seems to be vivifying. According to recent scholarship, American Latinas (the Mission is a highly Latino and Chicano community) have "rapidly surfaced as prominent contributors to the educational, economic, and cultural wellbeing of not only their own ethnicity, but of American society and the consumer marketplace." Despite the dynamic, impressive contributions that Latinas make to my world every day, all I can think of is how to respond to the devastation those women must feel.

Ben and I sat at dinner in sullen silence that night in the Mission, depressed about our nation.We'd chosen a lovely little restaurant to eat at, but we could only stare out at the vibrant neighborhood that we love, which suddenly felt under siege.

Over the next few days, I had the luck to be researching for a Mediation paper. The research largely focused on the work-arounds, negotiations, and maneuvers women have used to navigate the age-old imbalance of power in a "man's world". In my research, I discovered Professor James C. Scott, a political scientist who argues that everyday forms of resistance "are an integral part of the small arsenal of relatively powerless groups." He gives examples such as "foot-dragging, dissimulations, false compliance, feigned ignorance, desertion" and more that can act as potent negotiating tactics for those out of power.

I loved this idea! While I cannot deny Donald Trump's impending presidency because it's happening whether I like it or not, suddenly, I realized I could respond to it. I could respect our government, but at the same time, I could find my own "everyday forms of resistance" in keeping with a long female tradition of doing so. I was heartened to see that Jill Filipovic in Esquire, Matt Taylor in Vice, Jaya Saxena in the Daily Dot, and staff at Seattle's The Stranger have all been publishing hope along similar lines.

So, I intend to use this blog post and my subsequent post to recommend some ways that those of us who feel powerless, who feel overwhelmed --who believe in our government, but not in the hatred and small-mindedness that it seems to be sanctioning-- can react and respond.

Part I "Everyday Activism"

Here is a small list of the #smallacts that have gained traction. Perhaps our small acts can make meaningful, loving, large ripples.

1. Consider donating to Planned Parenthood in Mike Pence's name, as 50,000 people have done.
2. Learn how to talk to children about hate speech, as this new Equal Justice Society guide recommends.
3. If you live in California, consider volunteering/being an ally at one of the UC's AB540 offices, such as the Undocumented Student Center here at UC Davis.
4. Contact your senators to oppose Trump nominations and appointments of people who have disgraceful civil rights records (for example).
5. Support mayors who intend to keep their cities Sanctuary Cities.
6. Keep apprised of Trump's intention to scale back environmental regulation, and perhaps volunteer with orgs like the American Lung Association to raise awareness about clean air.
7. Remember that women all over the world are being oppressed, and may struggle with much greater persecution than people of female gender here in the US. Consider supporting women's rights in Rwanda, in Nigeria, in Bangladesh, and all over the world.

These are just small things, but they have helped me keep my chin up. I hope they help you too.

Stay tuned for Part II "Get Legal" !