ThinkProgress » Idaho Rejects Rape Exception In Abortion Bill Because ‘The Hand Of The Almighty’ Was At Work:
The disgusting number of women-hating pieces of legislation being pushed through various state legislatures is astounding.
But I think the Idaho bill is particularly galling: even if you were the victim of sexual assault or family sexual abuse you would be forced to keep the pregnancy.
It's a double assault against a woman's body and mind.
These fucking men seem to have a real problem with women having an independent will.
You know, like men have.
I had a conservative guy respond to one of my tweets today and he seemed to imply that simply having a reproductive system automatically obligated a woman to use it to reproduce. Whether or not she wanted to.
If we take all these bills together, women aren't going to be allowed to make decisions about anything on our own:
We can't buy contraception.
We can't terminate a pregnancy if we are raped.
We can't terminate a pregnancy if we aren't.
Our exes get to sue us if we get an abortion.
We can't say no to an ultrasound.
We can't rely on our own religious (or irreligious) counselors.
We have to wait for an abortion.
We can't get an abortion in our own state.
We can't use our money (or the State's money) to pay for abortion.
What can we do, in this world these women-hating men want to create?
Oh, get pregnant, get raped, and stay pregnant.
I want to smash some testicles.
Showing posts with label the F word. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the F word. Show all posts
Thursday, April 07, 2011
Monday, January 31, 2011
If you're going to call about HR3: a script via Sady Doyle
With a crappy piece of legislation like this - where the hate and cruelty are almost too much to bear - it helps to have a script when you're calling. Luckily, Sady Doyle provides one:
Sady Doyle - Script for Calling the Democrats Who Support HR3
I think it's still a little too long (staffers appreciate brevity) so I would cut it a little shorter, after you ask for the staffer who handles healthcare or women's issues:
1. Mention the bill # right away so it's at the top of the message: Hi, I'm calling to leave a comment about HR 3.
2. Tell the staffer what you want the Rep to do (again, so it's at the top of the message): Please oppose HR3.
3. Then boil it down to your top 3 bullets so they can summarize it for the legislator or the main staffer on this issue:
5. Thank them and hang up.
Pass it on.
Sady Doyle - Script for Calling the Democrats Who Support HR3
I think it's still a little too long (staffers appreciate brevity) so I would cut it a little shorter, after you ask for the staffer who handles healthcare or women's issues:
1. Mention the bill # right away so it's at the top of the message: Hi, I'm calling to leave a comment about HR 3.
2. Tell the staffer what you want the Rep to do (again, so it's at the top of the message): Please oppose HR3.
3. Then boil it down to your top 3 bullets so they can summarize it for the legislator or the main staffer on this issue:
Going beyond Hyde, in an unprecedented way, HR 3 strips current rights from rape survivors, women and girls who need abortions.4. Then give your contact information and let them know you expect a response: I look forward to hearing from the Congressman on this matter.
HR 3 redefines rape to mean only sexual assault involving 'force' will be covered, contradicting existing statutes that already defines sexual assault. Sexual assault statistics and rape victim advocates show that 70% of rapes aren’t “forcible.”
HR3 also makes it much harder for women to purchase private insurance that may include abortion services, harder for companies to cover women who need abortions, and strengthens “conscience” clauses, which means doctors can refuse to provide critical reproductive medical care to women at any time. It is discriminatory.
5. Thank them and hang up.
Pass it on.
Thursday, November 04, 2010
the patriarch has no vision
In reality, I'm sourcing queer family custody lawyers for my sister, gritting my teeth, and refraining from sending MABIL the most incendiary email in the history of the interwebs.
Because what is a big sister supposed to do when a man is trying to make your sister look mentally unstable, counting on the hope that the world is still so sexist and woman-hating that a court would strip her of her ability to mother her children; when a man is hating your sister so much he'll stand in front of their children and slowly taunt her with, 'You are soooo craaaazy, you're craaaaaazy,' full well knowing my sister can't fight back or he'll use it against her?
So since I can't fly to Los Angeles and punch MABIL in his testicles and superglue his fingers up his ass, I will do everything I can - call every well-connected friend, find a pro bono queer lawyer, read up on California statute - to prepare my sister for the custody fight of her life.
After years of being a very distant big sister perhaps I should take this opportunity to thank MABIL for bringing us closer than we have ever been; for the first time, without her so-called perfect marriage sitting between us like a stinking turd to intimidate me and oppress her, we speak about real things and treat the other like a real person. There is real intimacy between us. I love her more than I ever have. And now we actually say it.
(Though she needs to get off her high horse about having a drivers license. I will have one -- soon! You'll see!)
As a feminist I have to chuckle at reading MABIL's 'plan' so clearly. Oh, I don't underestimate it. I know that our culture can easily strip a gay woman (or any woman) of her rights as a parent simply because she has a life that somehow doesn't match a 1950s stereotype. But I sneer at his puny thinking. A man's word does not carry the legal weight it used to. Thank god. What a man wants is no longer what a man gets, necessarily. The frustration and anger MABIL feels in the face of my sister's rebellion is the product of feminism and I couldn't be more pleased.
Feel that hot rush of heat to your face every time you see my sister at the soccer game trying to cheer on her kids even though you won't let her near them, MABIL?
Welcome to women's lib, asshat.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
update: the road less traveled, iowa edition
I may have been harsher than I needed to be with M-. On the road yesterday, our crankiness got to such a level we inadvertently caused a beef with a waiter in a bad Mexican restaurant and went to bed huffy and tired.
When we slow down to talk, and listen, we can have complementary strengths. I pay attention to certain details and he to others. I could not have the patience for DJing a wedding and taking care of set up, logistics and whatever. This has been on his mind for weeks and it should be; it's a huuge favor for a good friend. If he screws up, he's ruined a wedding for everyone.
So he's had more than one thought in his head. He just hasn't had the thoughts in his head that are in mine.
But, to a larger point that was mentioned in comments below, there is Work that a lot of women do that goes unacknowledged. Especially married and mothering women - the work these women perform to keep a household running is largeley ignored, uncompensated and devalued.
Since I must bring everything to the personal or memoir level, I'll think about my father.
As much as my father loved my mom, I don't think he really considered the amount of work my mother contributed to the smooth running of his home. Every morning, my sister and I were clothed, fed, prepared for school or church, food was on the table, clothes were clean and everyone was on schedule.
I think he expected it to happen naturally because that's what the gender roles dictated. But the actual details of that work escaped him and went completely unacknowledged, which made my mother fester. Now that mom is gone, I think he's had some time to think about it but during those years, at the height of his ministry, he had no idea.
He would plan dinners, invite people over, volunteer mom's time and it would be done without a thought. 'Oh, of course, Lucy won't mind making a huge Sunday dinner for 9 people; she is such a good cook!' As if her talent automatically translated into consent.
It reminds me of episodes of Undercover Boss. The CEO, or COO, walks briefly in the shoes of his frontline staff and he is astounded at the sheer amount of herculean tasks put in front of him - vaguely realizing that this labor represents a fraction of the work hundreds of people contribute to his bottom line. I wonder if most husbands are like that. (Though it's problematic to see wives as 'staff.')
M- and I don't live together; we don't have a shared household. We're still in the early part of our relationship so I'm not going to fly a huge red flag. Being present means you deal with what's in front of you, not spin out into fantasies of future disaster.
But it's something for us to think about as we take our baby steps toward living together. It means we have to consciously talk about expectations and division of labor - especially what we learned from our parents and what those triggers are.
Here's to having a great party and drinking lots of champers!
When we slow down to talk, and listen, we can have complementary strengths. I pay attention to certain details and he to others. I could not have the patience for DJing a wedding and taking care of set up, logistics and whatever. This has been on his mind for weeks and it should be; it's a huuge favor for a good friend. If he screws up, he's ruined a wedding for everyone.
So he's had more than one thought in his head. He just hasn't had the thoughts in his head that are in mine.
But, to a larger point that was mentioned in comments below, there is Work that a lot of women do that goes unacknowledged. Especially married and mothering women - the work these women perform to keep a household running is largeley ignored, uncompensated and devalued.
Since I must bring everything to the personal or memoir level, I'll think about my father.
As much as my father loved my mom, I don't think he really considered the amount of work my mother contributed to the smooth running of his home. Every morning, my sister and I were clothed, fed, prepared for school or church, food was on the table, clothes were clean and everyone was on schedule.
I think he expected it to happen naturally because that's what the gender roles dictated. But the actual details of that work escaped him and went completely unacknowledged, which made my mother fester. Now that mom is gone, I think he's had some time to think about it but during those years, at the height of his ministry, he had no idea.
He would plan dinners, invite people over, volunteer mom's time and it would be done without a thought. 'Oh, of course, Lucy won't mind making a huge Sunday dinner for 9 people; she is such a good cook!' As if her talent automatically translated into consent.
It reminds me of episodes of Undercover Boss. The CEO, or COO, walks briefly in the shoes of his frontline staff and he is astounded at the sheer amount of herculean tasks put in front of him - vaguely realizing that this labor represents a fraction of the work hundreds of people contribute to his bottom line. I wonder if most husbands are like that. (Though it's problematic to see wives as 'staff.')
M- and I don't live together; we don't have a shared household. We're still in the early part of our relationship so I'm not going to fly a huge red flag. Being present means you deal with what's in front of you, not spin out into fantasies of future disaster.
But it's something for us to think about as we take our baby steps toward living together. It means we have to consciously talk about expectations and division of labor - especially what we learned from our parents and what those triggers are.
Here's to having a great party and drinking lots of champers!
Friday, October 15, 2010
the road less traveled: iowa
Yesterday, I sent a message to my office: 'Delia will be on the road tomorrow to Iowa for a barn wedding. See you all on Monday!'
In other offices, my message would get some kind of snarky response: 'say hi to the corn for me!' or something like that.
This new office? Suddenly it's all 'Ooh! How fabulous! Bring back pics from the sustainable farm tour!'
So that's different.
...
When I think about how M- and I divide the labor of our relationship I think of two captains jockeying to steer a ship. He's used to steering his ship and I'm used to steering mine; together, we're in the wheelhouse, scuffling for control.
Like my dad, M- is convinced his way is always right. And, sometimes he's right. Except when it comes to wedding planning - even if it's a friend's wedding.
When it comes to that, I think of details that he hasn't: are there enough rooms in the hotel block? Are we really guaranteed a room (for some reason he thought we were but had never confirmed that)? What's the deadline for hotel reservations? What time is check in? What's their late check in policy? And what time is the wedding on Saturday? What are the events that we're invited to and not? (This is really important!)
I bet he's had one question in his head: am I going to be able to set up my DJ equipment on time and will the gig go well?
Once, I tried to ask these questions and he said, 'Don't worry about these things, baby. Everything will work out.'
And it's infuriating to hear because I instantly flash back to my mom and dad, standing in a restaurant lobby being told they can't be seated because Dad didn't make a reservation and my mom is humiliated and angry. All he had to do was think about How Things Are Done and make the damn reservation. But no. He thought his manly brain exluded him from certain rules and expectations. And so we go back to the car, drive to Carl's Jr. and eat our burgers in silence.
So, I waited for everything to work out. And I was right. We weren't guaranteed a room, the main hotel was full and now we had to look for a room at a frakking Super 8 Motel. So I quickly made the reservations, paid for it and sent him the confirmation.
No 'told you so's'. No blame.
But goddammit. Next time, frak being nice and doing the 'managing up' crap. I'm just going to go ahead and make the plans because dudes may be able to move carriers around the globe but can't interpret a frakking wedding invitation correctly. I understand my role this weekend is to be the Pretty Girlfriend. I get that. I'm so brain dead, that's fine. But I really hate it when dudes ignore what I'm saying.
This mouth isn't just for giving blow jobs.
In other offices, my message would get some kind of snarky response: 'say hi to the corn for me!' or something like that.
This new office? Suddenly it's all 'Ooh! How fabulous! Bring back pics from the sustainable farm tour!'
So that's different.
...
When I think about how M- and I divide the labor of our relationship I think of two captains jockeying to steer a ship. He's used to steering his ship and I'm used to steering mine; together, we're in the wheelhouse, scuffling for control.
Like my dad, M- is convinced his way is always right. And, sometimes he's right. Except when it comes to wedding planning - even if it's a friend's wedding.
When it comes to that, I think of details that he hasn't: are there enough rooms in the hotel block? Are we really guaranteed a room (for some reason he thought we were but had never confirmed that)? What's the deadline for hotel reservations? What time is check in? What's their late check in policy? And what time is the wedding on Saturday? What are the events that we're invited to and not? (This is really important!)
I bet he's had one question in his head: am I going to be able to set up my DJ equipment on time and will the gig go well?
Once, I tried to ask these questions and he said, 'Don't worry about these things, baby. Everything will work out.'
And it's infuriating to hear because I instantly flash back to my mom and dad, standing in a restaurant lobby being told they can't be seated because Dad didn't make a reservation and my mom is humiliated and angry. All he had to do was think about How Things Are Done and make the damn reservation. But no. He thought his manly brain exluded him from certain rules and expectations. And so we go back to the car, drive to Carl's Jr. and eat our burgers in silence.
So, I waited for everything to work out. And I was right. We weren't guaranteed a room, the main hotel was full and now we had to look for a room at a frakking Super 8 Motel. So I quickly made the reservations, paid for it and sent him the confirmation.
No 'told you so's'. No blame.
But goddammit. Next time, frak being nice and doing the 'managing up' crap. I'm just going to go ahead and make the plans because dudes may be able to move carriers around the globe but can't interpret a frakking wedding invitation correctly. I understand my role this weekend is to be the Pretty Girlfriend. I get that. I'm so brain dead, that's fine. But I really hate it when dudes ignore what I'm saying.
This mouth isn't just for giving blow jobs.
Friday, October 08, 2010
if only men read women's literature
[Note: These opinions are my own. I don't consult with others before having them and I don't ask permission before sharing them. This is my prerogative as the owner and writer of this space. Do I really need to say this?]
If only more men read more feminist literature the vast unknown-ness of their wives would be laid bare and life would be less confusing.
During the various ups and downs of watching my family 'find themselves' I'm struck at how hard it is for a woman to break free of social expectations. Like Lucy Honeychurch, my sister is bucking all the expectations of her class, gender, mothering status and perceived orientation and, in the process, making everyone around her freak out. Even I am stunned, watching my sister go through a process that makes me think of Virginia Woolf's A Room of One's Own or Kate Chopin's The Awakening.
Her defiant refusal to remain in her marriage has apparently broken the rules of her little social community. In this community obligation to family (including friends) and church supercedes anything else, no matter if you're dying inside. But now, suddenly, relationships and identities are thrown into upheaval, children are endangered and all of morality has been upended and requires defense. Justifications must be made, core motivations must be plumbed and Someone needs to give a public accounting of how one has Betrayed Everyone.
Certainly, there was a betrayal. But which comes first? The betrayal of vows, or the desperate scramble for air that prompts the betrayal of vows? My brother in law asked me if I thought it was 'ok' that my sister did what she did. But I don't think in those terms. I try to put myself in her shoes and imagine what could have been done to facilitate the most immediate break in a marriage, deliver the greatest shock and bring things to an inevitable, and irreparable, conclusion. And then my sister's actions make sense.
But it doesn't make sense to the male members of her community. Their reactions are interesting. I think hysteria is accurate. There's also a degree of anger, seen especially in their demand for my sister to 'explain herself.'
All because a woman decided she wasn't happy.
What happens when men aren't happy? They can pull a Tiger, flaming out in a collection of hostesses and sleazy text messages. Or they can pull a Pastor C-, pushing everything down, only to release the unhappiness in bursts of furtive vacations. What do women do? We suck it up. We swallow our unhappiness until it turns us into the woman from The Yellow Wallpaper. Or we kill ourselves like Anna Karenina or Madame Bovary.
Again, I don't think men read a lot of 19th century domestic fiction. If they did, women's unhappiness would make a lot more sense.
A patriarchal society always inhibits a woman's autonomy and refuses to see her as an agent with a value system of her own. Her freedom, her independence doesn't exist unless some man authorizes it. And this is what I see. Men (very nice ones) demanding that my sister give an accounting of her actions because they're not satisfied with any of the answers they've received. These aren't bad men - they're just men. In defense of one of their own, they want to reassert control of a situation that she has set in motion.
For this, her journals have been secretly dissected, in an effort to find these answers when the woman herself is standing in front of them, repeating, "I wasn't happy. This wasn't me. I lied from the start. I never wanted any of this - wife, marriage. I was only that other person for everyone else."
Let's go back to literature (where all answers can be found, actually. At least humanist ones.) At the end of A Room With a View, Lucy Honeychurch is living in Florence with George Emerson, isolated from her family, even from her staunchest supporters like Rev. Beebe, because that is the price a woman pays when she betrays all expectations of her.
When a woman has defined for herself what her freedom entails, and she dares to take it, she finds herself cast outside of the castle walls. Imagine the Disney castle gone dark and quiet. The moat is filled and the drawbridge pulled up.
The only thing she has in front of her is the open world.
And it's worth it.
If only more men read more feminist literature the vast unknown-ness of their wives would be laid bare and life would be less confusing.
During the various ups and downs of watching my family 'find themselves' I'm struck at how hard it is for a woman to break free of social expectations. Like Lucy Honeychurch, my sister is bucking all the expectations of her class, gender, mothering status and perceived orientation and, in the process, making everyone around her freak out. Even I am stunned, watching my sister go through a process that makes me think of Virginia Woolf's A Room of One's Own or Kate Chopin's The Awakening.
Her defiant refusal to remain in her marriage has apparently broken the rules of her little social community. In this community obligation to family (including friends) and church supercedes anything else, no matter if you're dying inside. But now, suddenly, relationships and identities are thrown into upheaval, children are endangered and all of morality has been upended and requires defense. Justifications must be made, core motivations must be plumbed and Someone needs to give a public accounting of how one has Betrayed Everyone.
Certainly, there was a betrayal. But which comes first? The betrayal of vows, or the desperate scramble for air that prompts the betrayal of vows? My brother in law asked me if I thought it was 'ok' that my sister did what she did. But I don't think in those terms. I try to put myself in her shoes and imagine what could have been done to facilitate the most immediate break in a marriage, deliver the greatest shock and bring things to an inevitable, and irreparable, conclusion. And then my sister's actions make sense.
But it doesn't make sense to the male members of her community. Their reactions are interesting. I think hysteria is accurate. There's also a degree of anger, seen especially in their demand for my sister to 'explain herself.'
All because a woman decided she wasn't happy.
What happens when men aren't happy? They can pull a Tiger, flaming out in a collection of hostesses and sleazy text messages. Or they can pull a Pastor C-, pushing everything down, only to release the unhappiness in bursts of furtive vacations. What do women do? We suck it up. We swallow our unhappiness until it turns us into the woman from The Yellow Wallpaper. Or we kill ourselves like Anna Karenina or Madame Bovary.
Again, I don't think men read a lot of 19th century domestic fiction. If they did, women's unhappiness would make a lot more sense.
A patriarchal society always inhibits a woman's autonomy and refuses to see her as an agent with a value system of her own. Her freedom, her independence doesn't exist unless some man authorizes it. And this is what I see. Men (very nice ones) demanding that my sister give an accounting of her actions because they're not satisfied with any of the answers they've received. These aren't bad men - they're just men. In defense of one of their own, they want to reassert control of a situation that she has set in motion.
For this, her journals have been secretly dissected, in an effort to find these answers when the woman herself is standing in front of them, repeating, "I wasn't happy. This wasn't me. I lied from the start. I never wanted any of this - wife, marriage. I was only that other person for everyone else."
Let's go back to literature (where all answers can be found, actually. At least humanist ones.) At the end of A Room With a View, Lucy Honeychurch is living in Florence with George Emerson, isolated from her family, even from her staunchest supporters like Rev. Beebe, because that is the price a woman pays when she betrays all expectations of her.
When a woman has defined for herself what her freedom entails, and she dares to take it, she finds herself cast outside of the castle walls. Imagine the Disney castle gone dark and quiet. The moat is filled and the drawbridge pulled up.
The only thing she has in front of her is the open world.
And it's worth it.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Tips on Informational Interviewing with Delia Christina
Lately, I’ve been fielding calls from recent college grads (or their family friends) for informational interviews and I don’t quite know how to feel about it. Ambivalent about my own professional standing and trajectory, I don’t quite know what insights I’m supposed to give these young people. Sure, I have a solid list of contacts (not as fabulous as some, but it’s still a good one); but informational interviewing should be about more than just a polite way to demand names. I see it as a mini-mentoring opportunity.
And since I’m big on mentoring folks who look like me, I was doubly ambivalent when the two people I spoke with this week didn’t look like me. Their accumulated gender, race and class privilege outweighed any contacts or leads I could give them in a lifetime.
The bitchy thought crossed my mind, “Shit, why should I waste my time and so-called insight on these two when I could be giving them to another woman of color?”
But I tamped down my impatience and made the appointments with them – because that’s what you do when you’re a professional. You realize that the job search is a dance and these sorts of interviews are part of the choreography. Also, there was no way I was going to look bad in front of the people who referred them to me. So on Monday, I met with a very nice college grad who’s earnestly interested in women’s advocacy – or law school – and today I met with a guy who’s been interning at our org at a long-term research position.
The recent grad was a dream. She was prepared. She came with a list of orgs she was interested in; she had already met with a couple other advocates I knew and she had a couple of career trajectories in mind by the time she sat down with me. We spent 30 minutes talking about the non profit sector, women’s advocacy and why direct service in Illinois is not likely to be a good bet for the next 10 years. I gave her a few names of other women to reach out to and shook hands with her on the way out. What a nice girl, I thought.
Then I met with PolicyDude. Unprepared, vague about his plans, unable to say what he wanted or why, he made my head hurt.
“PolicyDude,” I said. “Here’s a tip. When someone asks you what you’re interested in, saying ‘social justice and progressive movements’ isn’t going to cut it. It’s too vague. That could mean anything and everything. You need to be specific enough so that I know how best to recommend you to someone.”
He scribbled in his pad.
“So…let me hear it. Give me your 5 minute pitch: why do you want to be in policy and where do you want to end up?”
“Um…is that really necessary?”
Tip Number 2: When you’re asking someone to help you find a job, don’t be bitchy.
“Ok…who has the job now that you envision having?” In the past, I had always found this exercise to be helpful in focusing me on my own professional ambitions; I thought this would work for him, too. But, no.
He looked at the ceiling. “Um, well….policy think tanks…social movements for women…maybe an international organization…”
Sigh. “What about title? Who has the title you want?”
“Um, well…maybe Director of …policy?” Never let it be said that men don’t dream big.
Tip Number 3: For the love of god, be prepared ... and brief.
We spent an hour trying to eke out what it was he really wanted. Did he want to stay in Chicago or go elsewhere? Did he want to try women’s advocacy or poverty work? Did he want to stay in non profit or had he thought about the private sector? (I gave him the name of a blue chip consulting firm in Chicago with a non profit practice and, swear to god – if he finds a job with them, I will lose my shit.) Which foundations or research orgs was he thinking about? Why was he interested in this work? What did he want to do? How could I refer him to anyone I knew (and foist this disaster on them) when he couldn’t answer any of these questions?
Before you chastise me for losing my patience, I have to say that this guy is a grownup and should know better – in his 30s with a solid academic background, married to a med school student, already thinking about raising kids. He had already done some little work in the field but basically expected me to open my contact list and read off a bunch of names and emails for him.
Tip Number 4: Don’t be so overtly greedy.
When I reviewed his resume, I discovered that this guy had never gone through a traditional job process. Through the kindness of teachers and friends, he’d jumped from this random post to that.
“So you’ve never formally interviewed for any job before? You’ve never had to compete for a job?”
“Not really. Isn’t it …um…all about who you know?” Somehow, he managed to maintain a puzzled look of cluelessness as he said this.
Tip Number 5: Don’t let your white male privilege hit your ass on your way out my office.
...
Note: Though I was mentally over this conversation halfway through, I stuck with it and gave him some tips on being a little more strategic about his interviewing: stop mumbling, rewrite your resume, have your pitch ready and ask your contact for more than who they know. I gave him some homework and we’ll talk again in two weeks. But jesus on the cross – really??
Note: What’s Tip Number 1? Don’t be lazy!
And since I’m big on mentoring folks who look like me, I was doubly ambivalent when the two people I spoke with this week didn’t look like me. Their accumulated gender, race and class privilege outweighed any contacts or leads I could give them in a lifetime.
The bitchy thought crossed my mind, “Shit, why should I waste my time and so-called insight on these two when I could be giving them to another woman of color?”
But I tamped down my impatience and made the appointments with them – because that’s what you do when you’re a professional. You realize that the job search is a dance and these sorts of interviews are part of the choreography. Also, there was no way I was going to look bad in front of the people who referred them to me. So on Monday, I met with a very nice college grad who’s earnestly interested in women’s advocacy – or law school – and today I met with a guy who’s been interning at our org at a long-term research position.
The recent grad was a dream. She was prepared. She came with a list of orgs she was interested in; she had already met with a couple other advocates I knew and she had a couple of career trajectories in mind by the time she sat down with me. We spent 30 minutes talking about the non profit sector, women’s advocacy and why direct service in Illinois is not likely to be a good bet for the next 10 years. I gave her a few names of other women to reach out to and shook hands with her on the way out. What a nice girl, I thought.
Then I met with PolicyDude. Unprepared, vague about his plans, unable to say what he wanted or why, he made my head hurt.
“PolicyDude,” I said. “Here’s a tip. When someone asks you what you’re interested in, saying ‘social justice and progressive movements’ isn’t going to cut it. It’s too vague. That could mean anything and everything. You need to be specific enough so that I know how best to recommend you to someone.”
He scribbled in his pad.
“So…let me hear it. Give me your 5 minute pitch: why do you want to be in policy and where do you want to end up?”
“Um…is that really necessary?”
Tip Number 2: When you’re asking someone to help you find a job, don’t be bitchy.
“Ok…who has the job now that you envision having?” In the past, I had always found this exercise to be helpful in focusing me on my own professional ambitions; I thought this would work for him, too. But, no.
He looked at the ceiling. “Um, well….policy think tanks…social movements for women…maybe an international organization…”
Sigh. “What about title? Who has the title you want?”
“Um, well…maybe Director of …policy?” Never let it be said that men don’t dream big.
Tip Number 3: For the love of god, be prepared ... and brief.
We spent an hour trying to eke out what it was he really wanted. Did he want to stay in Chicago or go elsewhere? Did he want to try women’s advocacy or poverty work? Did he want to stay in non profit or had he thought about the private sector? (I gave him the name of a blue chip consulting firm in Chicago with a non profit practice and, swear to god – if he finds a job with them, I will lose my shit.) Which foundations or research orgs was he thinking about? Why was he interested in this work? What did he want to do? How could I refer him to anyone I knew (and foist this disaster on them) when he couldn’t answer any of these questions?
Before you chastise me for losing my patience, I have to say that this guy is a grownup and should know better – in his 30s with a solid academic background, married to a med school student, already thinking about raising kids. He had already done some little work in the field but basically expected me to open my contact list and read off a bunch of names and emails for him.
Tip Number 4: Don’t be so overtly greedy.
When I reviewed his resume, I discovered that this guy had never gone through a traditional job process. Through the kindness of teachers and friends, he’d jumped from this random post to that.
“So you’ve never formally interviewed for any job before? You’ve never had to compete for a job?”
“Not really. Isn’t it …um…all about who you know?” Somehow, he managed to maintain a puzzled look of cluelessness as he said this.
Tip Number 5: Don’t let your white male privilege hit your ass on your way out my office.
...
Note: Though I was mentally over this conversation halfway through, I stuck with it and gave him some tips on being a little more strategic about his interviewing: stop mumbling, rewrite your resume, have your pitch ready and ask your contact for more than who they know. I gave him some homework and we’ll talk again in two weeks. But jesus on the cross – really??
Note: What’s Tip Number 1? Don’t be lazy!
Wednesday, June 09, 2010
reality bites, indeed
I am not a radical.
As a bourgie brown woman, I acknowledge what little privilege I have and wish everyone had the advantages I've had. However, just because I'm a bourgie black woman does NOT mean that I don't give a shit about making a difference in women's lives.
I'm in one of our chief executive's office this morning and throwing an idea out there that our legislative agenda next session needs be more cohesive. So we're talking about the benefits to it and somehow ending up on a potential issue area for us: domestic trafficking and prostituted women. And then began a depressing conversation about whether or not we're a feminist organization and what matters more: dollars or actually advocating to empower women? Clearly, dollars.
Know what I hate about working for an org that's over 100 years old in this funding environment?
I hate knowing that every future decision we make about policy is probably going to come from a place of fear: fear that we'll alienate a donor; fear that we'll make a politician angry; fear that our general constituency will back off from us; fear that the shiny white ladies from the burbs won't want to be sullied by the hard scrabble lives of women living on the south or west side.
I hate coming to the realization that, because of our age and our size, rather than use this time of uncertainty to be brave, we only TALK about being brave but then cavil and end up being mealy-mouthed and cowardly. Because that's what it means to back off from policies that mean life or death to women. It means you're chicken shit and you're not really serious about what you mean.
I'm sure I'm not the only policy/advocacy person in a human services non profit to come to that realization.
If I'm going to be this disillusioned, I should have stayed in corporate.
At least I'd be compensated for my cynicism.
As a bourgie brown woman, I acknowledge what little privilege I have and wish everyone had the advantages I've had. However, just because I'm a bourgie black woman does NOT mean that I don't give a shit about making a difference in women's lives.
I'm in one of our chief executive's office this morning and throwing an idea out there that our legislative agenda next session needs be more cohesive. So we're talking about the benefits to it and somehow ending up on a potential issue area for us: domestic trafficking and prostituted women. And then began a depressing conversation about whether or not we're a feminist organization and what matters more: dollars or actually advocating to empower women? Clearly, dollars.
Know what I hate about working for an org that's over 100 years old in this funding environment?
I hate knowing that every future decision we make about policy is probably going to come from a place of fear: fear that we'll alienate a donor; fear that we'll make a politician angry; fear that our general constituency will back off from us; fear that the shiny white ladies from the burbs won't want to be sullied by the hard scrabble lives of women living on the south or west side.
I hate coming to the realization that, because of our age and our size, rather than use this time of uncertainty to be brave, we only TALK about being brave but then cavil and end up being mealy-mouthed and cowardly. Because that's what it means to back off from policies that mean life or death to women. It means you're chicken shit and you're not really serious about what you mean.
I'm sure I'm not the only policy/advocacy person in a human services non profit to come to that realization.
If I'm going to be this disillusioned, I should have stayed in corporate.
At least I'd be compensated for my cynicism.
Tuesday, June 01, 2010
Dad gets another lesson in feminism: on raising strong daughters
Talking with my dad allows me to say some things kids and parents normally don't have a chance to say to one another unless one of them is on a deathbed. So today, I told him how his and mom's messages about our bodies basically created some of the issues my sister and I have with intimacy. And his brain exploded.
"What did you expect, Dad?" I said. "We grew up in a religiously strict Baptist home, we were taught Satan was real, we were going to hell if we touched ourselves, our bodies were dirty, sex was bad and that boys were rapists. So, yeah - we're gonna have some issues with men when we grow up!"
"Ahhh, well. I don't know," he stammered. "I don't know if I agree with all of that. But we can talk about that later."
"Dad, L- and I still talk about how traumatized we were when you told us about sex. It was graphic!"
"I was just trying to protect you from the little knuckleheads down the street!"
"We were eight! Don't tell us about being snatched off the streets, thrown on a dirty mattress in a van and having some little boy put their fingers in our bodies! That was terrifying!"
"I was being a father! We lived in South Central - not some fairy land."
"Well, congratulations, Dad! You told us our bodies were fodder for rapists - who, apparently, lived down the street, went to school with us and walked the sidewalks! Nice going." I said. "We were EIGHT! Dude, didn't anyone back then read books about child development? Didn't you guys have Good Touch/Bad Touch?"
"What's that mess?"
And so on.
Anyway, things are not going well with my sister's marriage; she has admitted to Dad that she has hated how men look at her, which has prompted Dad to ask where her attitude comes from.
"Are you kidding me?"
"I'm serious, Delia Christina. I don't understand it."
I tried to explain what it's like growing up a girl where you're taught that Bad Things will happen to you because of what's between your legs, how this reduces a girl to an object and tells her that SHE is the cause for a man's violence and perversion; but he didn't get it, quite.
So I said, "You raised us to be afraid, not strong. See the difference?"
My sister and I heard the same messages growing up. But I know what made the difference for me. Feminism. If that kind of awakening hadn't happened to me, I would still be struggling with my body, my value, my worth. I know that I've had a reputation for being a ball-busting man-hater, but I'd rather be a so-called man-hater than a woman afraid of her own body and desire.
But this, I think, is the conundrum of raising daughters. If you know that this patriarchal world is full of violence against women and girls (which it is, in horrible, horrific ways) then how do you prepare your daughter to face it? And then, how do you raise them to face it without making them afraid of themselves, of their bodies - how do you raise a daughter to be without shame?
Mothers and fathers raising daughters, I'd love to hear from you on this one.
"What did you expect, Dad?" I said. "We grew up in a religiously strict Baptist home, we were taught Satan was real, we were going to hell if we touched ourselves, our bodies were dirty, sex was bad and that boys were rapists. So, yeah - we're gonna have some issues with men when we grow up!"
"Ahhh, well. I don't know," he stammered. "I don't know if I agree with all of that. But we can talk about that later."
"Dad, L- and I still talk about how traumatized we were when you told us about sex. It was graphic!"
"I was just trying to protect you from the little knuckleheads down the street!"
"We were eight! Don't tell us about being snatched off the streets, thrown on a dirty mattress in a van and having some little boy put their fingers in our bodies! That was terrifying!"
"I was being a father! We lived in South Central - not some fairy land."
"Well, congratulations, Dad! You told us our bodies were fodder for rapists - who, apparently, lived down the street, went to school with us and walked the sidewalks! Nice going." I said. "We were EIGHT! Dude, didn't anyone back then read books about child development? Didn't you guys have Good Touch/Bad Touch?"
"What's that mess?"
And so on.
Anyway, things are not going well with my sister's marriage; she has admitted to Dad that she has hated how men look at her, which has prompted Dad to ask where her attitude comes from.
"Are you kidding me?"
"I'm serious, Delia Christina. I don't understand it."
I tried to explain what it's like growing up a girl where you're taught that Bad Things will happen to you because of what's between your legs, how this reduces a girl to an object and tells her that SHE is the cause for a man's violence and perversion; but he didn't get it, quite.
So I said, "You raised us to be afraid, not strong. See the difference?"
My sister and I heard the same messages growing up. But I know what made the difference for me. Feminism. If that kind of awakening hadn't happened to me, I would still be struggling with my body, my value, my worth. I know that I've had a reputation for being a ball-busting man-hater, but I'd rather be a so-called man-hater than a woman afraid of her own body and desire.
But this, I think, is the conundrum of raising daughters. If you know that this patriarchal world is full of violence against women and girls (which it is, in horrible, horrific ways) then how do you prepare your daughter to face it? And then, how do you raise them to face it without making them afraid of themselves, of their bodies - how do you raise a daughter to be without shame?
Mothers and fathers raising daughters, I'd love to hear from you on this one.
Thursday, May 06, 2010
policy camp, day 2: when you know you're not a leader, but a close 2nd
It's not that much of a loss, really. I've always known that being a number 1 makes the goosebumps rise, and not in that good way. This is not to say that I am crushed or abashed. It's a confirmation. And it's not to say that I am the one who follows. The pleasant surprise in this whole day was that it confirmed that I am...uncomfortably neutral about control.
The day started with our policy elevator speeches; I was paired with the NJ Supreme Court law clerk who frankly said, "I don't think these work. But go ahead." And I laughed. Then she laughed. I got what she was saying. When she said it in the larger group though, you could feel the room pull away from her. But she stood up there and just shrugged. 'I've worked on staffs, she said. And these are nice, but they don't remember these. You have to build the relationship and negotiate.'
It was a pragmatic view of the political process and the room full of advocates didn't really shine to that. For most of us, we like to think that if only folks knew the extent of the issue, that's all it takes. But it doesn't. It takes politics. And I admired her guts for saying that, for injecting an element of real politik into the morning. It was a lesson for me:
Don't get so caught up in your issue that you forget you operate in a very real world where having the facts and telling the story isn't enough.
Being the smartest girl in the room is not enough.
Being the smartest girl who knows the right people sometimes is.
I hope I stay in touch with her after this; in a few years, this woman will either be a very good, and very connected, lobbyist or a very good, and very connected, state senator, congressman or judge for New Jersey.
How was my elevator speech? Ah, it was serviceable; it won't set the world on fire but no one called it crazy.
And that's another thing; it is so incredibly nurturing here! I imagined a policy shark tank, a boot camp of sorts. But while the group discussions get heated, and positions are strenuously defended, there is always consensus to make us whole again.
Consensus. A word that used to make me itch in impatience. But now I see the use for it. In our session about Effective Teams, we had to agree on what helps or blocks teams; we couldn't take a simple vote and any disagreements had to be resolved through consensus. I found that I'm mostly ok with switching my vote. Oh, I'm wed to my position but often I will see the value of another person's view and give way. But only if their view is valuable and they made a good case for it - or if there was a greater good that could benefit and didn't depend on my position.
What was also surprising was figuring out what each of us valued in our teams. Half of us wanted everyone to contribute; the other half, only if the contribution was value-added. Most felt that conflict was a block to progress, but ok if framed as debate; most required structure and felt that personal feeling talk could be a slippery slope for losing focus. Above all, we felt it was important, no matter individual positions, for the team to enjoy working with one another.
Of course, when we compared our findings with actual research about effective teams, we discovered that some of what we preferred wasn't supported. Fascinating. Who knew conflict was a boon? Who knew that assuming equal competency levels was a block? (Lesson: always identify your weakest link and allocate resources appropriately!) It definitely made me stop and evaluate my current team and how I work in it.
Which brings me to the FIRO-B test. We all submitted an assessment before we arrived and received the results. Wow. It measured on Inclusivity, Control and Openness, on a 54-point range. (You can look up the FIRO-B to see how it works.) Spookily accurate.
I had an overall score of 14 - out of 54!! My Inclusion score was low: I prefer being alone vs. interacting with others. My Control score was also low; I like little structure, don't care about controlling others and don't give a shit about you trying to control me, because you won't. (I paraphrase.) And my Openness score was medium; I prefer some but not a lot of warmth and closeness in 1-1 relationships. Again, spookily accurate.
In other words, I'll be part of your team but I'm the loner who'll go along as long as I agree with the direction; but as soon as my and the group's interests diverge, I will bounce. Interesting, isn't it? (Perhaps I should warn M-.)
I don't think I was the only one struck with their results. Perhaps it was seeing ourselves rendered in print that made us all head for the bar immediately after the session.
The day started with our policy elevator speeches; I was paired with the NJ Supreme Court law clerk who frankly said, "I don't think these work. But go ahead." And I laughed. Then she laughed. I got what she was saying. When she said it in the larger group though, you could feel the room pull away from her. But she stood up there and just shrugged. 'I've worked on staffs, she said. And these are nice, but they don't remember these. You have to build the relationship and negotiate.'
It was a pragmatic view of the political process and the room full of advocates didn't really shine to that. For most of us, we like to think that if only folks knew the extent of the issue, that's all it takes. But it doesn't. It takes politics. And I admired her guts for saying that, for injecting an element of real politik into the morning. It was a lesson for me:
Don't get so caught up in your issue that you forget you operate in a very real world where having the facts and telling the story isn't enough.
Being the smartest girl in the room is not enough.
Being the smartest girl who knows the right people sometimes is.
I hope I stay in touch with her after this; in a few years, this woman will either be a very good, and very connected, lobbyist or a very good, and very connected, state senator, congressman or judge for New Jersey.
How was my elevator speech? Ah, it was serviceable; it won't set the world on fire but no one called it crazy.
And that's another thing; it is so incredibly nurturing here! I imagined a policy shark tank, a boot camp of sorts. But while the group discussions get heated, and positions are strenuously defended, there is always consensus to make us whole again.
Consensus. A word that used to make me itch in impatience. But now I see the use for it. In our session about Effective Teams, we had to agree on what helps or blocks teams; we couldn't take a simple vote and any disagreements had to be resolved through consensus. I found that I'm mostly ok with switching my vote. Oh, I'm wed to my position but often I will see the value of another person's view and give way. But only if their view is valuable and they made a good case for it - or if there was a greater good that could benefit and didn't depend on my position.
What was also surprising was figuring out what each of us valued in our teams. Half of us wanted everyone to contribute; the other half, only if the contribution was value-added. Most felt that conflict was a block to progress, but ok if framed as debate; most required structure and felt that personal feeling talk could be a slippery slope for losing focus. Above all, we felt it was important, no matter individual positions, for the team to enjoy working with one another.
Of course, when we compared our findings with actual research about effective teams, we discovered that some of what we preferred wasn't supported. Fascinating. Who knew conflict was a boon? Who knew that assuming equal competency levels was a block? (Lesson: always identify your weakest link and allocate resources appropriately!) It definitely made me stop and evaluate my current team and how I work in it.
Which brings me to the FIRO-B test. We all submitted an assessment before we arrived and received the results. Wow. It measured on Inclusivity, Control and Openness, on a 54-point range. (You can look up the FIRO-B to see how it works.) Spookily accurate.
I had an overall score of 14 - out of 54!! My Inclusion score was low: I prefer being alone vs. interacting with others. My Control score was also low; I like little structure, don't care about controlling others and don't give a shit about you trying to control me, because you won't. (I paraphrase.) And my Openness score was medium; I prefer some but not a lot of warmth and closeness in 1-1 relationships. Again, spookily accurate.
In other words, I'll be part of your team but I'm the loner who'll go along as long as I agree with the direction; but as soon as my and the group's interests diverge, I will bounce. Interesting, isn't it? (Perhaps I should warn M-.)
I don't think I was the only one struck with their results. Perhaps it was seeing ourselves rendered in print that made us all head for the bar immediately after the session.
Wednesday, May 05, 2010
So I'm at the Mt. Washington Conf Center in Baltimore, on the Johns Hopkins campus. We are enjoying wonderful weather - warm, dry, with a hint of rain that's coming on Friday. Rolling hills and bright green woodland surround the center. High on a hill, we are comfortably isolated from the bustle of Baltimore.
Since I've arrived, and since so much of this week will be about leadership, I've been asking myself if there's a model of female leadership. Do we tend to make women's leadership a binary opposite from male leadership? Is there a particularly 'feminine' style of leadership that can be identified?
So far, the so-called softer skills or qualities (i.e., relationship building, nurturing, etc.) aren't as valuable to most of us as strategy, savviness and having a vision. Interesting. During our discussion of why no one picked 'honesty' as a quality we all value in our leaders we arrived at the conclusion that, in our line of work, honesty isn't practical. Yes, we value integrity but honesty, less so. After all, the point is to get to the YES.
So far, the group I am most aligned with are the women who self-identify themselves as doers: assertive, quick to act, in control, digs into challenges, bottom-line thinkers and not feelings based; we bonded over the fact that we all had little patience for process and what we perceived as dithering, temerity or talking too much. In this group, I think the judicial law clerk is the most intimidating; there's an assessing look in her eye that made me bristle at first but that's just her way.
(We were also the first team to finish the activity and waited impatiently while the Visionaries, Analysts and Nurturers took their time. No judgment! Just sayin'.)
I expected to feel old here but someone said that 40 is the new whatever; there are some women here who are beginning anew. What I love most is that we are all passionate about issues affecting women. We are in orgs that do domestic violence work, education, economic empowerment, tax policy, early child care, reproductive justice, healthcare, AIDS work. About half are mothers; about half are women of color. And two are men! But what connects us? A passion for women's lives.
Ok, I have some policy homework to do. Catch y'all later.
Since I've arrived, and since so much of this week will be about leadership, I've been asking myself if there's a model of female leadership. Do we tend to make women's leadership a binary opposite from male leadership? Is there a particularly 'feminine' style of leadership that can be identified?
So far, the so-called softer skills or qualities (i.e., relationship building, nurturing, etc.) aren't as valuable to most of us as strategy, savviness and having a vision. Interesting. During our discussion of why no one picked 'honesty' as a quality we all value in our leaders we arrived at the conclusion that, in our line of work, honesty isn't practical. Yes, we value integrity but honesty, less so. After all, the point is to get to the YES.
So far, the group I am most aligned with are the women who self-identify themselves as doers: assertive, quick to act, in control, digs into challenges, bottom-line thinkers and not feelings based; we bonded over the fact that we all had little patience for process and what we perceived as dithering, temerity or talking too much. In this group, I think the judicial law clerk is the most intimidating; there's an assessing look in her eye that made me bristle at first but that's just her way.
(We were also the first team to finish the activity and waited impatiently while the Visionaries, Analysts and Nurturers took their time. No judgment! Just sayin'.)
I expected to feel old here but someone said that 40 is the new whatever; there are some women here who are beginning anew. What I love most is that we are all passionate about issues affecting women. We are in orgs that do domestic violence work, education, economic empowerment, tax policy, early child care, reproductive justice, healthcare, AIDS work. About half are mothers; about half are women of color. And two are men! But what connects us? A passion for women's lives.
Ok, I have some policy homework to do. Catch y'all later.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
at last, the religious right gets honest
At the Freedom Federation meeting, Rodriguez's rhetoric epitomized how the religious right is reframing its core issues to build a new army for "spiritual warfare" on sexual impurity and its consequences. Appearing on a panel moderated by Richard Land, who for decades has been the public and political face of the Southern Baptist Convention in Washington, Rodriguez said, "Let me be very blunt here. I don't believe white evangelicals or white conservatives alone can repudiate the spirit of Herod, the spirit of Sodom and Gomorrah, the spirit of Jezebel."
During the summit's closing rally, Rev. Arnold Culbreath, an African-American minister from Cincinnati, Ohio, admonished young women for their lack of purity. Culbreath is billed as the urban outreach director of Life Issues Institute, Inc., an anti-abortion organization, and the leader of the group's Black Life Initiative. "I want to say a word to the young ladies: Stop making it so easy for the young men," Culbreath said. His words were met with applause. "God has designed us to be the pursuers," he continued, "and you to be the pursuees." [emphasis mine]
Before, the religious right had always tip-toed around their obsession with gender roles and appropriate feminine behavior. Oh, sure - they want to save babies and segregate gays, but they'd never cop to the charge that they focused on these issues because a reproductively autonomous woman or gay man/woman challenged notions of hyper-patriarchy and 'natural order.'
They'd just chalk it up to God or the Bible and hide their intentions behind mealy-mouthed Jesus-talk.
But at last, their agenda is overt: in order to break the hold the Dems have over African American and Latino votes, the christian right is overtly positioning themselves to be the voice of pre-modernity by going after those issues that cross all racial/ethnic lines: killing teh babehs, gays, and sluts.
What's the spirit of Herod? Abortion.
The spirit of Sodom and Gomorrah? Homosexuality.
The spirit of Jezebel? Those goddamned women who like sex, have sex and use birth control, aren't married, flout (male) authority, work outside the home, feminists, loud-mouthed bitches and so on. In other words, women like me. Or you. Just .... women.
The social ick factor posed by abortion, homosexuality and feminism for religious conservatives has never been in doubt. But it's interesting to see how they've pitched race out the window in order to unify disparate factions under a banner everyone can get behind: hetero-coersive patriarchy.
Can I get an amen? (I'll write later about thoughts of how this movement appeals to the not so latent patriarchal tendencies among some black clergy and how it soothes their fear of the 'Sapphire' and tries to build a cage around black women's agency in order to support and protect the black male ego.)
And they're willing to build a socio-political movement behind it:
That vision of social justice is -- like the traditional religious right -- anti-government and theocratic. For the "multiracial" Freedom Federation, it is focused on saving black and brown babies from the spirit of Herod. In a panel discussion on social justice, Engle said, "prostitution in America is fueled majorly [sic] out of the foster care system. Government is going to produce that kind of thing. Here is where the church becomes the outrageous lover, the outrageous answer." [emphasis mine]
(It's interesting to note how Engle's thinking turns the government into a pimp - and, of course, there won't be any thinking about how such a hyper-patriarchal model of gender creates the man who buys the trafficked woman... )
The way Engle connects domestic trafficking to the foster care system makes me take a closer look at the ways that evangelical groups have begun to advocate around international and domestic sex trafficking and wonder how their advocacy on those issues(the presence of which anti-violence against women groups have warily welcomed) is going to merge with this new fight to rescue America from the Herods, Sodomites and Jezebels among us.
And how are their wary feminist/pro-woman partners going to navigate that?
(I'm thinking specifically of particular 'rescue and restore' ministries that have worked with established feminist anti-trafficking groups; these groups have very heavy 'American patriot' overtones/imagery and a definite vibe of 'manly Christian men rescuing endangered frail, corrupted woman in order to restore her to home and hearth, where she rightfully belongs.' It is a discourse ripped directly from the 19th century Victorian playbook.)
The religious right has always fascinated me. One, because I come from it and understand it; and two, because their narratives and goals are so very, very narrow and familiar. Throughout history there have been those who have fought to hold back time and progress. Despite the lessons to be learned in literature, history, art and psychology about the unhappiness and damage such a narrowly defined culture can produce, they fight on.
And keep losing. For every women who is educated, employed, empowered and autonomous, beholden to no one, they lose.
I hope we women are strong enough for this fight again.
...
Bible story time!
Who is Jezebel?
It's one of the most vivid and violent stories in the Old Testament. I read it constantly when I was a little girl. Jezebel is married to Ahab, who covets a man's land. Ahab dithers so his wife strategizes to steal the land, kill the owner and make the land a gift to Ahab. The prophet Elijah forsees doom because of their sin and when the kingdom is attacked, Ahab dies in battle and Elijah orders Jehu to find Jezebel and throw her from the highest tower. The dogs lick her blood and eat her body, leaving only her hands, feet and head - the tools that schemed, wrote the order and delivered the gift to Ahab.
And....that's who sexually impure women are supposed to be: scheming, murderous, manipulative sluts who deserve to be thrown off a tower and eaten by dogs.
(Think I'm exaggerating? Church folk interpret this story exactly like this.)
Friday, March 26, 2010
pay no mind to the woman behind the curtain
I may be one of those women so long decried in business magazines: the woman who silently seethes for lack of proper recognition.
If I was a man, I doubt that ManChristina would be so...acquiescent about being the 'voice' for his boss. I doubt ManChristina would be ok standing behind the curtain, writing the words that get other people kudos. I also doubt ManChristina would be so slow trying to figure out what ManChristina was going to do about it, without sounding petty or childish.
In fact, I don't think ManChristina would give a flying fuck whether he sounded petty or childish.
Oh, sure. ManChristina would understand that this is part of being on a communications team, but sooner or later, he'd simply say: 'I want fucking credit for my work.'
I wonder what ManChristina would say to me?
ManChristina: You are being such a whiner.
DeliaChristina: No I'm not! I'm trying, really hard, to be a team player!
MC: (snort) Whatever, you big baby.
DC: I don't want to be the ... disruptive, angry one. Uh, anymore.
MC: You also don't want to be the one who gets credit. Your choice. (shrug)
DC: You don't understand! We're a team! Our team's job is to make the CEO look good. So...that's what I do. I do the policy research, create the argument and serve it up all nice so she can repeat it.
MC: (snort) That's some bullshit.
DC: You don't get it. That's what a communications team does. Our labor goes into lifting the profile for the organization.
MC: Then why are you so mad? If that's your job, that's your job! Deal. Suck it up.
DC: You're such an asshole.
MC: And you're a whiny baby! Why are you so angry, then? Don't you like being the researcher, writer, argument-maker, secret policy brain?
DC: No! I am tired of being the smart brown girl who does the frakking work and then some savvy, connected white chick comes along and then uses my work to get the big byline, sweet gig or promotion! Aagh!
MC: Then what. Are. You. Going. To. DO.
DC: I have no frakking clue. This is not the best job seeking market, you know. Communications folks are a foot thick on the ground out there....(whine whine)
MC: You need to stop making excuses and do fucking something.
DC: You are no help, ManChristina.
MC: You need to stop being such a girl.
Apparently, ManChristina would be a sexist pig. Huh.
If I was a man, I doubt that ManChristina would be so...acquiescent about being the 'voice' for his boss. I doubt ManChristina would be ok standing behind the curtain, writing the words that get other people kudos. I also doubt ManChristina would be so slow trying to figure out what ManChristina was going to do about it, without sounding petty or childish.
In fact, I don't think ManChristina would give a flying fuck whether he sounded petty or childish.
Oh, sure. ManChristina would understand that this is part of being on a communications team, but sooner or later, he'd simply say: 'I want fucking credit for my work.'
I wonder what ManChristina would say to me?
ManChristina: You are being such a whiner.
DeliaChristina: No I'm not! I'm trying, really hard, to be a team player!
MC: (snort) Whatever, you big baby.
DC: I don't want to be the ... disruptive, angry one. Uh, anymore.
MC: You also don't want to be the one who gets credit. Your choice. (shrug)
DC: You don't understand! We're a team! Our team's job is to make the CEO look good. So...that's what I do. I do the policy research, create the argument and serve it up all nice so she can repeat it.
MC: (snort) That's some bullshit.
DC: You don't get it. That's what a communications team does. Our labor goes into lifting the profile for the organization.
MC: Then why are you so mad? If that's your job, that's your job! Deal. Suck it up.
DC: You're such an asshole.
MC: And you're a whiny baby! Why are you so angry, then? Don't you like being the researcher, writer, argument-maker, secret policy brain?
DC: No! I am tired of being the smart brown girl who does the frakking work and then some savvy, connected white chick comes along and then uses my work to get the big byline, sweet gig or promotion! Aagh!
MC: Then what. Are. You. Going. To. DO.
DC: I have no frakking clue. This is not the best job seeking market, you know. Communications folks are a foot thick on the ground out there....(whine whine)
MC: You need to stop making excuses and do fucking something.
DC: You are no help, ManChristina.
MC: You need to stop being such a girl.
Apparently, ManChristina would be a sexist pig. Huh.
Friday, February 05, 2010
professional tip #15: write your own letter of rec
I just wrote the most outrageous ode to my own awesomeness:
"With her help we have become a model of advocacy in the region and we’re proud of the generous way she shares her knowledge with our sister associations to build capacity. We now enjoy a reputation for being ahead of issues, for being a ‘first-responder’ on issues critical to victims of assault and working poor families. It’s difficult to ascribe direct causality but there is no doubt we could not have achieved this without her combination of guts, smarts and resourcefulness."
There's more but I'll stop there.
I'm applying for a competitive leadership bootcamp in DC for May and part of the application is two letters of recommendation. Who'd I pick to recommend me? My CEO and COO (I think having leadership behind you matters). But they're busy women so I wrote the letter for them, sent it to them, said they could edit it as they saw fit - and I'd do the rest. One down, one to go.
Writing it wasn't as hard as I thought it would be.
Have you written a letter of your own awesomeness?
On my path to get to The Next Step I'm becoming a big believer in being your own biggest fan - especially if you're a woman. Remember that article folks were talking about a month or so ago, about what women needed to do to be more successful - and the upshot was 'be more like a dude'? Well, no. I wouldn't know how to be a 'dude' if I tried - but I like being one of the smartest people in the room (and I'm not afraid of being that person in the room who also says 'I don't get it.') I like knowing what I'm capable of and doing it; I like knowing that there are things I can do better than other people.
Why be ashamed of it? Why be apologetic for it?
(I'm not saying be a dick. Just be...who the hell you are. Unless you really are a dick. I can't help you with that.)
To me, not apologizing for being you (constructive warts and all) is being your own biggest fan. And being forced to write it all down makes you define who you are for yourself. That's why I don't understand people who ask for recommendations and then leave it up to others to say something nice about them. You're really going to trust other people with your reputation and image? Really?? Risky.
Anyway, it felt good writing this letter. It reminded me of why I do the work I do and why I've stayed where I am. It returned to me some of my purpose. And when my CEO signed off on it with a fluorish without changing one word, I squee'd a little inside.
Now if I could just conquer my fear of the networking event...
"With her help we have become a model of advocacy in the region and we’re proud of the generous way she shares her knowledge with our sister associations to build capacity. We now enjoy a reputation for being ahead of issues, for being a ‘first-responder’ on issues critical to victims of assault and working poor families. It’s difficult to ascribe direct causality but there is no doubt we could not have achieved this without her combination of guts, smarts and resourcefulness."
There's more but I'll stop there.
I'm applying for a competitive leadership bootcamp in DC for May and part of the application is two letters of recommendation. Who'd I pick to recommend me? My CEO and COO (I think having leadership behind you matters). But they're busy women so I wrote the letter for them, sent it to them, said they could edit it as they saw fit - and I'd do the rest. One down, one to go.
Writing it wasn't as hard as I thought it would be.
Have you written a letter of your own awesomeness?
On my path to get to The Next Step I'm becoming a big believer in being your own biggest fan - especially if you're a woman. Remember that article folks were talking about a month or so ago, about what women needed to do to be more successful - and the upshot was 'be more like a dude'? Well, no. I wouldn't know how to be a 'dude' if I tried - but I like being one of the smartest people in the room (and I'm not afraid of being that person in the room who also says 'I don't get it.') I like knowing what I'm capable of and doing it; I like knowing that there are things I can do better than other people.
Why be ashamed of it? Why be apologetic for it?
(I'm not saying be a dick. Just be...who the hell you are. Unless you really are a dick. I can't help you with that.)
To me, not apologizing for being you (constructive warts and all) is being your own biggest fan. And being forced to write it all down makes you define who you are for yourself. That's why I don't understand people who ask for recommendations and then leave it up to others to say something nice about them. You're really going to trust other people with your reputation and image? Really?? Risky.
Anyway, it felt good writing this letter. It reminded me of why I do the work I do and why I've stayed where I am. It returned to me some of my purpose. And when my CEO signed off on it with a fluorish without changing one word, I squee'd a little inside.
Now if I could just conquer my fear of the networking event...
Monday, January 04, 2010
on the unintended consequences of bad policy and parental notifications
I don't think anything I write this year will compare to this post at Fugitivus:
Because of my job I've become aware that most legislators don't actually read finer points of policy implications for a new piece of legislation; they want the bullet points. So we give it to them, probably to the detriment of thoughtful policy development. Some of them ask for clarification but they appear to rely on instinct, some electoral soothe-saying, and a smattering of hope that the nit-picky administrative details will be resolved in committee while all they have to do is jump on as sponsor and then vote on it when it's called.
Well, unfortunately, the devil is in those very details they are likely to overlook.
We rely on our elected officials to take care of the public's trust but they are often too 'busy' (see how I give them the benefit of the doubt there?) to actually do it critically, or thoroughly.
Illinois' parental notification law survived a legal challenge and will be in place as of this year. At least, that's what they tell us. Think our bankrupt, overtaxed and janky state system will have a firm enough hand to enforce this badly constructed law? I'm not holding my breath.
Meanwhile, the anti-woman/anti-choice faction has succeeded in building a wall separating young women in crisis from their legal access to a needed legal, medically-approved procedure.
Golf clap, frakkers.
Laws restricting access to medical services are laws restricting access to medical services. They are not laws creating family talks, better worlds, or moral teenagers. They are laws creating restrictions to medical services, which people do not seek unless they need them. Laws creating restrictions to medical services are laws creating restrictions to services people need and need desperately. You can argue that the lawmakers had some kind of noble intentions in mind — I will not buy it, but you can argue that. But you cannot argue that once the law has been in effect and created an inability to comply, and yet remained unchanged. If this was a law about notifying parents, it would have addressed how to notify parents. If this was a law about how to seek a bypass, it would have addressed how to seek a bypass. Since it didn’t address either of those things, this is obviously a law about something else. You only get one guess about what that something else is.The whole post is long but powerful (especially her memory of what it's like to be on the street and needing to come up with plans b/c/d/e & f. This section is almost enough to convince me that most policy discussions/solutions need to start with/come from the people who are actually experiencing what others are trying to legislate or control. Everything else is just academic or intellectual bullshit meddling.)
Because of my job I've become aware that most legislators don't actually read finer points of policy implications for a new piece of legislation; they want the bullet points. So we give it to them, probably to the detriment of thoughtful policy development. Some of them ask for clarification but they appear to rely on instinct, some electoral soothe-saying, and a smattering of hope that the nit-picky administrative details will be resolved in committee while all they have to do is jump on as sponsor and then vote on it when it's called.
Well, unfortunately, the devil is in those very details they are likely to overlook.
We rely on our elected officials to take care of the public's trust but they are often too 'busy' (see how I give them the benefit of the doubt there?) to actually do it critically, or thoroughly.
Illinois' parental notification law survived a legal challenge and will be in place as of this year. At least, that's what they tell us. Think our bankrupt, overtaxed and janky state system will have a firm enough hand to enforce this badly constructed law? I'm not holding my breath.
Meanwhile, the anti-woman/anti-choice faction has succeeded in building a wall separating young women in crisis from their legal access to a needed legal, medically-approved procedure.
Golf clap, frakkers.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
asshat of the day: National Review’s John Derbyshire
When you think the congenitally stupid nostalgia these people indulge in couldn't be any more ... well, stupid, there's this:
DERBYSHIRE: Among the hopes that I do not realistically nurse is the hope that female suffrage will be repealed. But I’ll say this – if it were to be, I wouldn’t lose a minute’s sleep.
COLMES: We’d be a better country if women didn’t vote?
DERBYSHIRE: Probably. Don’t you think so?
COLMES: No, I do not think so whatsoever.
DERBYSHIRE: Come on Alan. Come clean here [laughing].
COLMES: We would be a better country? John Derbyshire making the statement, we would be a better country if women did not vote.
DERBYSHIRE: Yeah, probably.
In addition to repealing women's suffrage, he wants to get rid of the Civil Rights Act because, well, you can't force people to be good. (So, let's just indulge everyone's self-interest and see what kind of country we have then, right? Frakking idiot.)
What year do these people want to live in? Someone should ask them.
And they'd probably say the 18th or early 19th century.
Think Progress » National Review’s John Derbyshire: Women Should Not Have The Right To Vote:
DERBYSHIRE: Among the hopes that I do not realistically nurse is the hope that female suffrage will be repealed. But I’ll say this – if it were to be, I wouldn’t lose a minute’s sleep.
COLMES: We’d be a better country if women didn’t vote?
DERBYSHIRE: Probably. Don’t you think so?
COLMES: No, I do not think so whatsoever.
DERBYSHIRE: Come on Alan. Come clean here [laughing].
COLMES: We would be a better country? John Derbyshire making the statement, we would be a better country if women did not vote.
DERBYSHIRE: Yeah, probably.
In addition to repealing women's suffrage, he wants to get rid of the Civil Rights Act because, well, you can't force people to be good. (So, let's just indulge everyone's self-interest and see what kind of country we have then, right? Frakking idiot.)
What year do these people want to live in? Someone should ask them.
And they'd probably say the 18th or early 19th century.
Think Progress » National Review’s John Derbyshire: Women Should Not Have The Right To Vote:
Thursday, August 06, 2009
this blog is AWESOME
i usually save all capital letters for sex or food or really great leather bags.
but this woman's blog deserves it: Fugitivus.
you need to read her.
i sort of wish she lived in chicago and we could have a beer. i might develop a creepy, blog-girl crush on her. i'm already envious of her turn of phrase.
anti-sexist, anti-racist and funny as hell.
thanks to my fellow blogger, m. leblanc, for introducing me to her.
but this woman's blog deserves it: Fugitivus.
you need to read her.
i sort of wish she lived in chicago and we could have a beer. i might develop a creepy, blog-girl crush on her. i'm already envious of her turn of phrase.
anti-sexist, anti-racist and funny as hell.
thanks to my fellow blogger, m. leblanc, for introducing me to her.
Friday, July 24, 2009
work, again.
this past week has confirmed it: i am *not* cut out for direct service provision or program operation. ugh.
we have a number of volunteers through a national volunteer program assigned to our site; then the budget thing happened. we had to lay off one of our program directors who was going to supervise half of the volunteers. to keep our volunteers, we offered them alternative assignments which necessitated, basically, the reworking of the volunteer program from the ground up - or ass backwards. whichever.
long story short: i am not a program director; i just write the proposal. why am i creating the workplan for a program? i am not a program director; i just write the proposal. why am i creating the job description for the program? why am i talking to the volunteers? why am i doing what a program director does? grrrrrr.
i'm cranky AND hungry.
...
last night i cooked dinner at M-'s place.
keeping things simple, i whipped up a very nice carbonara. but, geez, dude tools are primitive. do all single guys have kitchen tools from c. 1978?
we watched a few shows (catching up on TrueBlood and Hung - which is hilarious), held hands, dozed off on the couch and went to bed. and...that's it.
i have chosen to adopt a different attitude when it comes to the school-night celibacy we seem to be practising. i realized why i was so upset with the idea of it before - i have always placed an inordinate amount of value on sex as a rubric for how much a guy likes me. in other words, if a guy likes me, he'll have sex with me. this is not to say that this is true. B- had sex with me, but i don't know if we 'liked' each other. and i'm happy to say that there are dudes out there who have been fond of me (and i them) and we have never had sex. so it's not exactly a correllary.
but. in the past, i have equated my own value with the amount of sex had. there. that's closer to the truth.
(if my therapist was reading this, she'd be proud of my breakthrough just now.)
so when it seemed that we weren't having sex as regularly as i thought we ought, i automatically thought it was a reflection of my value. where this thinking comes from, i hesitate to probe. or, i'll just blame it on B- who will become my boogie man for all things dysfunctional and messed up.
(ExRoomie says that's unfair. 'He was mentally ill. He was on meds, or off them, neurotic and crazy. You cannot use him as a measuring stick.')
i realize that kind of thinking is warped, as well as sad, hence the change in attitude. the school-night celibacy is not a metric of my value (or a measure of his lack of regard for me); it is merely we are old and tired, in food coma and it's the middle of the week after a hard day at work. who wouldn't go to bed next to the person they like after all that?
baby steps that i will eventually allow myself to shower there in the morning.
...
P.S: to all my 9 (!) readers who were curious to know if M- knew about my blogging about him. Yes, he does.
Last weekend (which was really lovely and I'll write about it later, perhaps), we were hanging out in Nilda's and having really serious conversations again about our families. It's odd, the moments we choose to open up. We do it in public. Huh.
Anyway, we were there, forcing ourselves to be honest about things. He was honest about his family history; I was honest about mine. He was honest about his past lovers; I was honest about mine (though if he asks about my number, I will not answer - so none of his business.) And so, in the interest of honesty, I said: You know I mention you on my blog.
M-: Yeah? Everything?
D: No...just observations. Things that happen on a date or a funny conversation.
M-: Am I famous?
D: No, but you're popular. You're beginning to have a following. The posts about you are the ones with the most hits. Are you cool with that?
M-: Maybe I'll have groupies.
There you have it. M- is cool with it and looks forward to fan mail. Let the M- stories continue.
we have a number of volunteers through a national volunteer program assigned to our site; then the budget thing happened. we had to lay off one of our program directors who was going to supervise half of the volunteers. to keep our volunteers, we offered them alternative assignments which necessitated, basically, the reworking of the volunteer program from the ground up - or ass backwards. whichever.
long story short: i am not a program director; i just write the proposal. why am i creating the workplan for a program? i am not a program director; i just write the proposal. why am i creating the job description for the program? why am i talking to the volunteers? why am i doing what a program director does? grrrrrr.
i'm cranky AND hungry.
...
last night i cooked dinner at M-'s place.
keeping things simple, i whipped up a very nice carbonara. but, geez, dude tools are primitive. do all single guys have kitchen tools from c. 1978?
we watched a few shows (catching up on TrueBlood and Hung - which is hilarious), held hands, dozed off on the couch and went to bed. and...that's it.
i have chosen to adopt a different attitude when it comes to the school-night celibacy we seem to be practising. i realized why i was so upset with the idea of it before - i have always placed an inordinate amount of value on sex as a rubric for how much a guy likes me. in other words, if a guy likes me, he'll have sex with me. this is not to say that this is true. B- had sex with me, but i don't know if we 'liked' each other. and i'm happy to say that there are dudes out there who have been fond of me (and i them) and we have never had sex. so it's not exactly a correllary.
but. in the past, i have equated my own value with the amount of sex had. there. that's closer to the truth.
(if my therapist was reading this, she'd be proud of my breakthrough just now.)
so when it seemed that we weren't having sex as regularly as i thought we ought, i automatically thought it was a reflection of my value. where this thinking comes from, i hesitate to probe. or, i'll just blame it on B- who will become my boogie man for all things dysfunctional and messed up.
(ExRoomie says that's unfair. 'He was mentally ill. He was on meds, or off them, neurotic and crazy. You cannot use him as a measuring stick.')
i realize that kind of thinking is warped, as well as sad, hence the change in attitude. the school-night celibacy is not a metric of my value (or a measure of his lack of regard for me); it is merely we are old and tired, in food coma and it's the middle of the week after a hard day at work. who wouldn't go to bed next to the person they like after all that?
baby steps that i will eventually allow myself to shower there in the morning.
...
P.S: to all my 9 (!) readers who were curious to know if M- knew about my blogging about him. Yes, he does.
Last weekend (which was really lovely and I'll write about it later, perhaps), we were hanging out in Nilda's and having really serious conversations again about our families. It's odd, the moments we choose to open up. We do it in public. Huh.
Anyway, we were there, forcing ourselves to be honest about things. He was honest about his family history; I was honest about mine. He was honest about his past lovers; I was honest about mine (though if he asks about my number, I will not answer - so none of his business.) And so, in the interest of honesty, I said: You know I mention you on my blog.
M-: Yeah? Everything?
D: No...just observations. Things that happen on a date or a funny conversation.
M-: Am I famous?
D: No, but you're popular. You're beginning to have a following. The posts about you are the ones with the most hits. Are you cool with that?
M-: Maybe I'll have groupies.
There you have it. M- is cool with it and looks forward to fan mail. Let the M- stories continue.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
jimmy carter is still my favorite president
so, in the post below, a long time reader advises me of the value of the 'conversation' between those who believe different things. and i value that advice. i even value the belief in the need for dialogue between disparate ideas and people in political discourse.
(goodness knows one wouldn't want to be seen as an obstructionist, in any way.)
but i disagree about some of the 'conversations' we're having.
there are just some conversations that aren't open to ... conversing.
or conversion.
things like combating sexism and misogyny. things like anti-racism. or things like civil rights for everyone, regardless of sexual orientation or gender identity.
at the beginning of the 21st century i am not prepared to 'converse' with anyone re: how important it is for people to be on the empowering and progressive side of these issues. frankly, it shouldn't be up for debate. logical, reasonable, civil, civilized people aren't sexist, racist or homophobic.
(it's the same way i don't waste my time arguing with people about the existence of God.)
jimmy carter just ended his 'conversation' with the southern baptist convention over their centuries-long, continued sexist treatment of women and the social impact that treatment continues to have. why shouldn't he?
(and no, i have no opinions on whatever this Elders thing is, which sounds like something from a comic book.)
(goodness knows one wouldn't want to be seen as an obstructionist, in any way.)
but i disagree about some of the 'conversations' we're having.
there are just some conversations that aren't open to ... conversing.
or conversion.
things like combating sexism and misogyny. things like anti-racism. or things like civil rights for everyone, regardless of sexual orientation or gender identity.
at the beginning of the 21st century i am not prepared to 'converse' with anyone re: how important it is for people to be on the empowering and progressive side of these issues. frankly, it shouldn't be up for debate. logical, reasonable, civil, civilized people aren't sexist, racist or homophobic.
(it's the same way i don't waste my time arguing with people about the existence of God.)
jimmy carter just ended his 'conversation' with the southern baptist convention over their centuries-long, continued sexist treatment of women and the social impact that treatment continues to have. why shouldn't he?
(and no, i have no opinions on whatever this Elders thing is, which sounds like something from a comic book.)
Friday, July 17, 2009
go, run, young lady.
I have deliberately missed all of the Sotomayor hearings. I just can't take it. I put myself in her shoes and my chest gets tight. It's a freaking trigger for me. (I have a serious problem with authority and seeing a woman of color being bombarded with old white dude asshattery just makes me think of other panels of white men judging women of colorin history. Phyllis Wheatley, Anita Hill, dissertation defense panels, anyone?)
Anyway, it got me thinking that, sooner or later something has to seriously change. We keep waiting for these dudes to die but these old dudes cling to life like cultural vampires.
I cannot tolerate these old talking heads who are reliving the day back in 1952, when Miss Sally had the nerve to try and vote and his dinner got cold - and he's still mad about it.
(I'm talking to you, Pat Buchanan. Why the fuck are we still trotting out your blisteringly racist ass to comment on anything?)
But when I read this piece by Ellis Cose, on Sotomayor, and the persistent lie that she is unqualified - and how these lies are bruited about by men who would be called mediocre at best - this makes me even angrier.
These old dudes have to go.
They have to go.
And we have to start replacing them.
If this was a play by Aeschylus and the republic was in danger by ignorant and unworthy men, what would happen? The women would step up.
So let's start stepping up. I was kind of joking in the post below, but not really.
If we want to see the end of these racist and sexist confirmation hearings, then we have to be on the other side of those tables.
If we want to see the critical issues of women and girls addressed, and not just serviced through human care organizations - then we need to be the person sitting at the table, holding the pen, signing the bill. (I mean really. Women are flooding the social service sector, which is shot. How much more effective could we be on the other side?)
If we want to really bring an end to the racism, the sexism, the homophobia, the hate, the violence, the oppression, the poverty - then WE need to fucking do it.
THEY aren't doing it. THEY aren't doing it in Springfield, IL and they aren't doing it in Congress. And THEY can barely let anyone else do it on the SCOTUS.
So you know what? THEY can kiss our collective feminist asses.
The White House Project is having a boot camp training in Wisconsin in October. I'm revising my resume and saving the dollars to go. Who's with me?
Democracy for America (yeah, the Howard Dean group) is having a training in Chicago, in August, about grassroots organizing and campaigning. I'm signed up, I got three other women to sign up from work and we're going. Will you go?
Who else does this work?
The Midwest Academy
Wellstone Action
I'm sure I'm missing others. But these are the one ones I always hear about.
Am I telling you all to run for President or even US Senate? Nope. But I'm asking us to start filling in those seats. School boards, city boards, county seats - the smallest most local seat ever - I don't care. The old dudes sitting in them need to start fearing for their political lives.
Grrr.
Anyway, it got me thinking that, sooner or later something has to seriously change. We keep waiting for these dudes to die but these old dudes cling to life like cultural vampires.
I cannot tolerate these old talking heads who are reliving the day back in 1952, when Miss Sally had the nerve to try and vote and his dinner got cold - and he's still mad about it.
(I'm talking to you, Pat Buchanan. Why the fuck are we still trotting out your blisteringly racist ass to comment on anything?)
But when I read this piece by Ellis Cose, on Sotomayor, and the persistent lie that she is unqualified - and how these lies are bruited about by men who would be called mediocre at best - this makes me even angrier.
These old dudes have to go.
They have to go.
And we have to start replacing them.
If this was a play by Aeschylus and the republic was in danger by ignorant and unworthy men, what would happen? The women would step up.
So let's start stepping up. I was kind of joking in the post below, but not really.
If we want to see the end of these racist and sexist confirmation hearings, then we have to be on the other side of those tables.
If we want to see the critical issues of women and girls addressed, and not just serviced through human care organizations - then we need to be the person sitting at the table, holding the pen, signing the bill. (I mean really. Women are flooding the social service sector, which is shot. How much more effective could we be on the other side?)
If we want to really bring an end to the racism, the sexism, the homophobia, the hate, the violence, the oppression, the poverty - then WE need to fucking do it.
THEY aren't doing it. THEY aren't doing it in Springfield, IL and they aren't doing it in Congress. And THEY can barely let anyone else do it on the SCOTUS.
So you know what? THEY can kiss our collective feminist asses.
The White House Project is having a boot camp training in Wisconsin in October. I'm revising my resume and saving the dollars to go. Who's with me?
Democracy for America (yeah, the Howard Dean group) is having a training in Chicago, in August, about grassroots organizing and campaigning. I'm signed up, I got three other women to sign up from work and we're going. Will you go?
Who else does this work?
The Midwest Academy
Wellstone Action
I'm sure I'm missing others. But these are the one ones I always hear about.
Am I telling you all to run for President or even US Senate? Nope. But I'm asking us to start filling in those seats. School boards, city boards, county seats - the smallest most local seat ever - I don't care. The old dudes sitting in them need to start fearing for their political lives.
Grrr.
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