Wednesday, October 22, 2014

I Am a Success--Sometimes

Last week a close friend left our shared job to be a full-time EMT, tomorrow another will leave to join a clinical research team, and today a third returned from a leave of absence to announce that he will leave for an internship in two months. It's a pretty bitter pill to swallow, not only because we have a high intensity job made easier by both each others' competence and camaraderie, but also because great things are happening in their lives, while mine feels like it's at a standstill.

For the record, over the summer, my remaining two good work friends initiated a romantic relationship. So, here I am, working at the same place I was at two years ago, single, staring down the barrel of another year and a half of nursing school, and not feeling the forward momentum that seems to be gracing the lives of my friends. If I were the person I aspire to be, I'd see great inspiration in their hard work and great opportunities. But instead I'm the person I am, and I wonder why I bother buying into the routine at all, while great things happen around, but never to, me.

It's in these instances that I'm forced to remind myself that a negative attitude is self-perpetuating, that if I expect nothing to change, I won't do anything to propel myself toward it, and so a cycle of misery is initiated.

I am also the only person on earth who has achieved what I've achieved with the resources and hurdles I've had throughout my life--and my friends are similarly unique. I have some insight into the effort they put in to getting their opportunities and I can assure anyone who asks that what they've accomplished was hard-won. It's easy to feel unaccomplished next to them, especially in an industry where we get so few external tokens of achievement, but I'm not. I excel at lesson plans, I've taught kids to grow on academic and social levels, I'm a great baker, highly intelligent, creative, a good writer, I give good advice, and I can connect with troubled kids and relate to them on their level without being condescending, and I'm rocking my nursing pre-reqs. None of this is small or un-noteworthy. Sometimes I need to enumerate what I've already done in order to push myself to do more. In the words of Martha Jones, I am good.

It's so easy to feel unaccomplished in a society that accentuates the negative, so when something good happens to others, we almost automatically contrast their positive with our negatives, and we disregard the bigger picture. It's important to remember what we've achieved, but the most essential thing to remember is that it's not a competition. Good things happening to one of us don't take away from the rest, and we are interdependent creatures. We can choose to be a part of each others' successes, and we can draw inspiration from others to fuel our own. Support creates a success of all of us.

Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Gender Bending on the Spectrum

I've worked with kids on the autism spectrum for closing in on a decade. Autism is a spectrum of conditions with an abundance of misinformation, so for brevity's sake I'll only state that it can affect cognitive development, social perception, sensory processing, and motor control to varying degrees in each affected individual. As a disclaimer, it should also be noted that autism is not caused by vaccinations nor can it be cured by abstinence from gluten.

Part of autism education is assisting kids in learning social cues. Most people on the spectrum cannot easily understand nonverbal social cues, which can lead to gaffes in etiquette that make initiating friendships difficult and even hold them back professionally. Among other things, we teach them what certain facial expressions and body motions indicate, what is and isn't appropriate to discuss with someone based on your relationship to them, how to dress in given situations, and the basics of hygiene and grooming.

What I've witnessed and find myself having to debate with other professionals over, are practices that teach conformation to gender heteronormativity. While girls are told that they are expected to remove leg and armpit hair, boys are explicitly told that they may not wear dresses, high heels, makeup, or nail polish. Social stories contain stock phrases such as "Girls do __________." "Boys like _____________." and we are educating a slew of young people that these norms are mandatory in order to be successful in society.

I won't discuss the inherent logical flaw in pushing the idea that gender norms, which are as capricious as fashion trends, are absolute and unchanging (blue and pink signifying the opposite genders they currently do less than a century ago, for example), when there is a far greater ethical dilemma at stake.

What neurotypical people comprehend and autistic people are struggling to understand, is that there are repercussions in society for not subscribing to the mores of one's prescribed gender. What we are teaching however, is that there are no repercussions because there is no choice. Whether someone chooses to disavow certain aspects of gender normativity, like eschewing a razor or adopting Rimmel's London Look, should be entirely their prerogative.

There's also the idea fixed in the minds of the general public that autism is sole defining characteristic of anyone who has the condition, when it is, like any other trait, merely one facet of a whole, complex human being. Autistic people are as likely as neurotypical people to be transgender, and in enforcing the ideal that their gender identity must conform to their biological sex, we're not only robbing them of choice, for trans autistic kids, we are denying an essential aspect of their selfhood.

Morally, we are obligated to impress upon these kids the possible repercussions of how they choose to express themselves in society. When neurotypical kids choose the extent to which they will or will not conform to social mores, whether they are cis or transgender, queer or straight, they do so making an informed choice, and their autistic peers deserve no less. But education is all about choice, forming ideas and plans from the most accurate information available, and educators have an ethical, moral impetus to encourage their students to make the best choices for themselves.

Prescribing their choices based on our own mores and prejudices is not only unfair, but blatantly wrong.

Monday, October 20, 2014

My Failures as a Feminist

Yesterday, after reading my piece on Gerard Way, a dear friend of mine congratulated me on it and told me he tried to live his life by those guidelines ever since he met me. Since his equality-minded nature is one of the reasons we became friends, I asked him why not before. He said that he's always been a feminist, but not always gone about it the right way.

Who among us has?

Ever since I knew the basic definition I've considered myself a feminist. Ask my father's permission to date/marry/whatever me? Fuck off. Equal pay? Damn right I want it. Try to tell me when and how I'll become a mother? Them's fighting words.

Yet, I haven't always been a "good" feminist. I've made mistakes and I believe that anyone who's part of any movement has unknowingly worked against it at some point. So here are the most unfeminist things I've ever done or said, in hopes that I can learn from my mistakes, and perhaps so can others.

1. I mocked the girly girls
Somehow I got it into my head that women who enjoyed that which was pink, sparkly, or flowery were "stupid" and "fueling the fire of the enemy" (I went through a dramatic stage. It isn't over yet).
That somehow being themselves while simultaneously not being like me, those women were somehow undervaluing our whole gender because they liked "girly" things like romance novels and unicorns. I credited myself with (undue) depth and substance because I was above such tired tropes of femininity. I was important and they were stupid.

2. I undervalued the housewifely arts
Along with criticizing pink, I also felt that, due in no small part to an overconsumption of pop culture and mainstream Hollywood tripe, a truly successful woman cannot cook, clean up after herself, or mend her clothing. After all, the patriarchy had pigeonholed women into the housewifely role, and its abandonment was our salvation. Somehow I failed to take into consideration that the ability to feed myself, clean up after myself, and maintain a respectable appearance--especially when I realized that only 1% of the world gets to disavow such niceties because they have staff to take care of it for them--were essential to success.

3. I placed greater value on the feminist issues that affected me
Feminism can be deeply personal, and the passion that feminists bring to their activism comes from their own experiences, but at its core the movement is about everyone, especially those that are marginalized by the patriarchy. We should have a solidarity about us--what happens to my sister happens to me, even if she's trans and I'm cis, even if she's queer and I'm straight, even when her skin color brought her a different experience than mine did me, even if the she in question is my brother, a man who's been just as marginalized by the way things work as I have.

4. I've been guilty of slut-shaming
I've never judged a woman for how much sex she's had, but I've definitely been guilty of judging a woman for how much sex she looks like she's having. If you were showing what I deemed to be too much skin, talking too much about blow jobs, or just advocating a sexual more that I didn't agree with, I judged you for it, and I'm sorry. And while I'm at it, I prude-shamed too, allowing myself to think that women who chose abstinence or advocated prudence were enemies of sexual freedom that has been so hard won, when in truth they were expressing themselves within that freedom.

5. I conflated "men" with "patriarchy"
The patriarchal construct has rigid views of masculinity, femininity, sexuality, race, and nearly every other intrinsic part of personhood that makes each of our experiences unique. Only those who are at the top in this system will stay at the top, and at the cost to those beneath them. Only straight, white, cisgender men get to be fully represented and even they must adhere to the structure laid out for them, to the detriment of their health and happiness. Despite the gendered nouns that the movements have, patriarchy is not for men, nor feminism for women. Patriarchy is simply a way to maintain the status quo, while feminism is a way to lift us up.

The ultimate point is, the only real mistake I made as a young feminist is that I turned feminism into a competition. Everything that I did was done under the guise that I was in competition with those around me, but feminism is a means to an end, and the end is equality--not sameness, not homogeny, but the basic idea that everyone has the right to be themselves without suffering a loss of opportunity or safety. In equality, there is no competition, and the belief that there is is just a myth perpetuated to sidetrack us from what's really important--slowly, surely, confidently changing the world.

Sunday, October 19, 2014

Feminist Men Rock

WARNING: THERE WILL BE SHAMELESS SHILLING AND FANGIRLING IN THIS POST. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED. PROCEED WITH WHATEVER CAUTION YOU DEEM NECESSARY.

I don't often take the time to discuss celebrities I like, but Friday night at the Trocadero theater in Philadelphia convinced me to make an exception. I was there to see Gerard Way, a fantastic solo musician who was the founder and lead singer of My Chemical Romance as well as the brilliant mind behind some truly great comics like The Umbrella Academy and The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys. It was a fantastic show and if you have the chance to check him out on this or any future tours, I highly recommend you do.

But this is not a review or a critique of his artistry. However much I enjoy criticizing art in private, I don't feel like it's my place to do so on a public forum, as well as the fact that whatever flaws Gerard Way may have, I'm blind to, because I've adored him since I was 19.

However, the ways he uses his power as a public figure, that's worth discussing. It should be noted that at the tender age of 28, I skew significantly older than most of Gerard Way's fanbase. He had a captive audience of teenagers, mostly young women, who adore him, follow him on social media, and would respond to whatever he chose to say, and it was this: (paraphrasing)

"I've been on the internet and seen a lot of the shit that women, young women, get thrown at them, and I just wanna say ladies, it's coming from old, white dudes with power who are afraid of you!"

"Never, ever, ever give up control for free!"

"Things are changing and I'm loving it. I'm not scared of this generation being in charge at all. Stay strong, ladies!"

In a world where the Millennial generation is constantly under attack from the previous generations (i.e. the ones who raised them) for their perceived laziness, their lack of ambition, their addiction to their phones and their general crappiness, having a Gen X'er who's also a major pop culture figure tell them not only that he's not afraid of them, but that they're awesome, is incalculably huge. People respond to how they're treated, but being treated well by adults when you're a teen is so rare it could qualify as a superpower, and we consistently wonder why teenagers are so sullen. Maybe it's because we tell them almost constantly that we implicitly hate everything they think, like, do, are?

In true patriarchal fashion, women seem to bear a stronger brunt of this than men. Not only in pop culture, but politics, women are told that they are nothing more than the sum total of their sex organs, and that those body parts are public property. For every amazing woman who stands up for herself and her sisters, there's an oppressive body of men--and even more disheartening, other women--who want to shout her down. And yet, here's Gerard Way, pushing 40 (I know you don't believe me, so here), white, and a guy, benefitting from the current power structure no matter which way you spin it, and he's encouraging young women to change the world, showing he's not afraid because their power and strength is something to be celebrated instead of loathed.

They say young women need role models, and it's fucking true, but feminism is about celebrating everyone, and in the changing world young men need to see that better opportunities for women =/= worsening or fewer opportunities for them. Too often, young men are told that feminism is not for them, that it wants to take from them, and that's why men like Gerard Way are so important as public figures. He's married, has a child, beat the odds in overcoming alcoholism and in earning his living making the art he wants to make. He's surrounded by adoring fans and is successful in every measurable way. And he's a feminist.

The only real problem with Gerard Way is his singularity. For every him, for every Wil Wheaton, for every Joss Whedon, for every George R. R. Martin, for every man with a public audience who steps up for equality and improvement, who shares instead of hordes, popular culture will respond with a thousand different ways to shut them up, to put us all back in our boxes, keep us chugging along in a system where the current winners are the only winners, and everyone else suffers through. So take some inspiration. Learn by example.

Say something.

Saturday, May 31, 2014

The Tragedy of Maleficent

Spoilers abound for anyone who has yet to bear witness to the festering bed sore that is Disney's latest abomination,

Once upon a time, humans lived among the fair folk. They were allowed to live as they liked, so long as they paid the fey their due respect. Some fairies responded with obeisance, others with reward, and still others with disinterest, so long as the humans observed the appropriate rights.

As it happened, one king and queen allowed the power they had over their fellow humans to go to their heads, and upon the birth of their daughter, publicly spurned an unpopular but vastly powerful fey named Maleficent by expressly not inviting her to the christening. In equal parts retribution to the royal upstarts as well as a reminder to those to follow of the foolishness of incurring her wrath, Maleficent cursed the newborn princess. She bore the babe no ill will, the child was merely collateral damage in the political chess game that the royal family had instigated. Sadly, Maleficent's quest for justice was thwarted by lesser fairies and the entitled entourage of the human royals, and she died a martyr to her own brand of retribution.

Sadly, this is not the story that Disney chose to tell with their re-imagining of one of their most beloved villains. In the trio of films that would go on to anchor the Disney princess franchise, Maleficent was a larger than life powerhouse among the vain, aging queen and the social-climbing, sycophantic stepmother. While Snow White, Cinderella, and Aurora are all equally innocent victims, Sleeping Beauty was the first film to depict a villain who was provoked before lashing out. Aurora, the titular beauty, is merely the catalyst for the events of the film, but it has always been Maleficent's story.

The live-action adaptation starring Angelina Jolie is, at best, a subpar Lifetime movie about a good woman done wrong by a bad man, and oh look, sparkles.

Maleficent starts out as a sunshine-vomiting fairy who epitomizes the Dark is Not Evil trope, and right away that's a major flaw in the film. Maleficent IS evil, deliciously evil, her very name is a portmanteau of mal (French: bad) and magnificent. Her malevolence is just a manifestation of her nature, and nothing, nothing that happens from here on out will convince any moviegoer that the 2014 Maleficent is capable of becoming the 1959 Maleficent.

As the film progresses, with a helping of trite and redundant narration, Maleficent falls in love with a sweet but ambitious boy named Stefan, whose human kingdom fears and loathes the neighboring fairies. In a quest to prove himself worthy of the throne, Stefan cuts off Maleficent's wings to prove to his warmongering king that he has slain the fairy, and so marries the milquetoast princess and becomes king.

Heartbroken and stung by betrayal, Maleficent uses her magic to curse her former lover's newborn in an almost word for word recitation of the animated film's iconic scene. She mentions the lack of invitation, but she's merely mocking the king--make no mistake, this is a classic example of woman scorned. Three fairies take Aurora off to raise her as a commoner, but while this is a cunning plan in the original,  the fairies are so bafflingly stupid that Maleficent herself is forced to keep watch over the child so she can live long enough to enact the curse. Over the next sixteen years, in various sickeningly sweet scenes, Maleficent predictably falls in love with the child and seeks to undo her own curse, which, failing to do so, she unwittingly breaks it with True Love's kiss in a "twist" that Disney property Once Upon A Time has done much better. Twice.

No one fears the bite of a de-fanged cobra, and no one will find anything to fear in the vacillating cream puff that purports to be one of animation's most terrifying villains. Maleficent was introduced as a badass, and the creators of this latest film should be ashamed for what they've done to her.

It's hard not to see Maleficent's stolen wings as a huge and disturbing rape metaphor. The first king makes war on her lands because he fears her power. Stefan drugs her, and then takes what is rightfully hers without her permission. Notable at this point is that Maleficent is the guardian of her moor, friend to all fairies, with long brown hair and a dress to match, the virtuous embodiment of "good" womanhood. Following her "rape", the film justifies Stefan's victimization of Maleficent by turning her into a "bad" woman who kills babies while the crowning glory of her femininity is bound under tight, uncomfortable looking black leather. She finds her way back to "goodness" by forming a maternal bond (the pinnacle of womanhood) to the child she swore vengeance upon. You can tell her redemption is complete by the end of the film because she once again has long hair flowing around her face, and the moor sparkles in her presence.

Following the USCB shootings, this is an especially disturbing parallel to our view of rape victims. Rape turns victims into "bad" people, continuously accused of lying, of asking for it, as being damaged goods. Stefan, for most of the film, gets away with his actions, even achieving his ambitions as a direct result of what he did to Maleficent. Even as he spends the majority of the film in a downward spiral of insanity, it's due to his fear of retribution, not guilt.

Maleficent started out as one of the greatest characters in film canon. She was conceived as evil, she died evil, and from beginning to end she terrified the audience with a drama and flair that female characters 55 years after her debut would kill to possess. The tragedy is we've used this strongly defined villain to paint an ugly portrait of how our society sees women, and splattered it across screens to show girls everywhere what we do to those who don't fit our molds.

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

White Disney World

Recently, I've been substituting all the things I used to do--spending time with friends, reading, concerts, movies, dating, gym, exercise--with Pinterest. I blame the fact that the app runs better on my iPhone than it did on my droid, and therefore, I cannot be held responsible for the fact that my traitorous  thumb swipes over to it every time I get an email or a text. Due to the massive amount of time I spend on there, I've run across this gem at least five times:

This image is originally from  http://themetapicture.com/brilliant-comeback/
All credit due the creators and other such indemnification.

First of all, Brave is set in Scotland, not Ireland. I have relatives that would murder you for failing that distinction.

But with that minor quibble very serious infraction of cultural sensitivity addressed, let's examine the underlying argument being stated: namely, that because Rapunzel, Anna, and Elsa are from traditional European fairy tales/folklore, and Merida is a medieval Scot, Disney is not guilty of whitewashing.

While it's true that it makes the most sense for the three protagonists and deuteragonist to be white for these three films, and also, for the bit and supporting players to be white in the contexts of the story, in the past four years Disney has failed to release a feature film in its princess pantheon with a non-white lead or a diverse cast. While the films are most definitely based on traditional fairy tales, every culture has a rich tradition of storytelling that Disney could've mined and adapted, but in four years, they've chosen from a strictly European formula. Also, stories such as "The Frog Prince" are from the same cultural landscape as "Rapunzel", but Disney storytellers set it in the Jazz age of New Orleans with a black protagonist, black villain, black mentor, white foil, and ethnically ambiguous love interest--more diversity in 2009 than 2014.

Additionally, while one could argue that old school Disney princess films such as "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs", "Cinderella", and "Sleeping Beauty" skewed pretty closely to the original tales, "Frozen", Disney's latest offering, is set in the fictional land of Arendelle, with clothing, technology, and inheritance rights all suggesting an anachronism stew of time periods and locations with no real world counterpart. Kai and Gerda, the main characters of "The Snow Queen", upon which the movie is loosely based, are not even in the film, so loyalty to the source material is moot. Yet, all the characters were so white I barely noticed when SPOILER! the land was engulfed in an eternal blizzard. Clearly, while not actively whitewashing by refusing to update the racial makeup of Arendelle, Disney certainly isn't being progressive either.

As for the assertion that there are "plenty of ethnic Disney ladies", I invite the reader to check out the list of official Disney princesses here. If you'd like confirmation from the Mouse, there is a link here, that hasn't yet been updated to include Anna and Elsa. If you'd rather not distract from the brilliant wit that is this post, there are thirteen official Disney princesses, in order: Snow White, Cinderella, Aurora (Sleeping Beauty), Ariel (The Little Mermaid), Belle (Beauty and the Beast), Jasmine (Aladdin), Pocahontas, Mulan, Tiana (The Princess and the Frog), Rapunzel (Tangled), Merida (Brave), and Anna and Elsa (Frozen). Esmerelda doesn't count as a princess, being the love interest of her film instead of the protagonist (like Jasmine), and not being royal by either birth or marriage (like Mulan) and also because basically Disney says so. Note that out of 13 princesses, two are Asian, one is American Indian, and one is black, bringing the total to a whopping four. Let everyone be aware that 4/13 qualifies as plenty. Try arguing that point should you get that grade on a test--which would be a 31%, for anyone keeping track. And the fact that Tiana has no black friends to hang out with at the Disney princess parties, that Pocahontas is the only American Indian, and South Asian Jasmine and East Asian Mulan don't know any princesses who look like them, we've added up to that ugly little t-word: tokenism. If you break through the glass ceiling, but you're standing alone on the rubble with no one following behind, you haven't really accomplished much.

I don't want to live in a PC world, filled with stories and characters that have been flexed and molded to  appease everyone and so please no one. I loved "Tangled", I  adored "Brave", and "Frozen" warmed the cockles of my fairy tale loving but feminist heart. I wouldn't change a thing about any of them. I would want to see movies--and I mean feature films that are added to the official princess list--that feature characters as flawed, interesting, diverse, and heroic as Rapunzel, Merida, Anna, and Elsa with a plethora of skin tones and ethnic backgrounds. I want the rich tapestry of folktales and legends from Europe, Asia, Africa, Australia, and the Americas updated, adapted, and given a Disney ending. I want an upgrade from tokenism to diversity. I want Disney, the stamp upon my childhood, to stop whitewashing. And I want them to mean it.

Sunday, October 6, 2013

Perks and Pitfalls of Bringing Non-Nerds to See a Geek God

Meeting the creators of my favorite art is one of the best experiences I've ever had and meeting them after they've just made new art is even better.

Sometimes, life gets in the way. Wil Wheaton was in Philadelphia on Friday night, but due to the fact that I'm poor and the holidays are looming and my car decided now would be a good time to shit out its transmission, I instead signed up to work a double shift. Now, for clarity's sake, I should note that my love for Wil Wheaton began in earnest when I read this post. I never was a big fan of Star Trek (and before anyone spams the shit out of me, I'll get around to watching all the Trekkie goodness eventually. It's just never been my thing). The point is, I love Wil Wheaton the writer/comedian/professional awesome dude/Sheldon nemesis, and I am unabashedly nerdy in professing such love. I am, in fact proud to call myself a nerd in all respects. And undaunted, I wanted to see me some Wil Wheaton, and no time and a half with a $.50 pay differential second shift was going to get in my way.

Hence a 60-minute car drive followed by a 90-minute train ride and a 20-minute cab ride from Philly to New York so I could catch his show the following night.

And it was glorious.

However, 170 minutes is a long time for a solitary journey, so I enlisted reinforcements in the form of my three good co-worker friends, among whom there are a total of zero nerds. The conversation went something like this:

Me: Want to head up to New York on Saturday?
Friends: Why?
Me: Wil Wheaton is doing a show.
Friends: *crickets*
Me: He was on Star Trek: The Next Generation
Friends: *slightly louder crickets*
Me: He was the main kid in Stand By Me.
Friends: *hooting of an owl over the sound of crickets*
Me: He's Sheldon's arch-nemesis on The Big Bang Theory
Friends: Oh, right, that guy. What kind of show?
Me: Stand up
Friends: Is he funny?

If we were allowed access to YouTube at work, I would've pulled up a few vids of his past stand-up and let that do the talking. But since we're not, the better part of the next hour was spent convincing my friends that Wil Wheaton was funny and ultimately, they decided that I rarely steer them wrong and plans were made to visit the home of the Yankees (who suck harder than a Hoover, for the record).


At this juncture, just so you know what a magical night it was, I bring you "Kitty Corliss", first brought to me by co-headliners Paul and Storm.

To be fair and honest, you do not need to be a nerd to appreciate either the hilarity of Paul and Storm, whose song "My Favorite Band" perfectly encapsulates how I feel about My Chemical Romance, or Wil Wheaton's story about spicy dick milk (the name of my Michael Jackson cover band). The non-nerds I brought into the fray were cracking up over Wil's hysterical stories and the awesome Paul and Storm songs. And after we left, each of them declared themselves brand new but very enthusiastic fans of both.

However...

In a room full of geeks, I was sitting next to the people quietly, politely smiling during the references to Han shooting first, aiming to misbehave, and why his shirt was confusing to normal people. While I love converting the uninitiated, it's hard to explain the shorthand of nerd culture when you're rolling on the floor in glee. And the end of the evening is somewhat decimated when you recount the evening to your buddies and the explanation leaves them more baffled than the initial joke. There's a reason nerds gather amongst each other. We have the gene, and those who don't are confounded by our ways.

Since Wil Wheaton's name appears in this post a whopping nine times, I owe him one. He and his wife,  the lovely and sweet Anne Wheaton, are raising money for the Pasadena Humane Society and you can help them out with that here.