Food, Football & Fun

Thanksgiving is a great time to observe your family and the different gender roles they fall into. Our Thanksgiving is spent with our neighbors who we consider part of the family. Cooking usually begins the day before. My sister and I go next door to help with the bulk of the meal, the turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, mashed carrots, parsnips, turnips, you know the works. I don't think anyone would be surprised to hear that my sister and I helped our female neighbor (she is like an aunt to us) with these preparations. Meanwhile, our mother was next door pealing and slicing a bundle of golden delicious for some good old homemade apple pie. Our father isn't around for the festivities that go along with preparation, because his excuse is his work comes when the turkey needs to be carved. Strenuous work that must be, if it is the equivalent to how much the rest of the laborers in the kitchen do. So Thanksgiving morning rolls around, and after a very disappointing Macy's Day Parade, we start getting everything in the oven. My sister and I were also involuntarily chosen (though I'm not complaining) to polish the silver, set the table, and serve the hors d'oeuvres (your basic three-cheese and cracker platter with some healthy fruity wines on the side). I can't say if those chores are attributed to the fact that we are the only children. I often wonder the way chores would be distributed if there was a male sibling in the mix. And sadly, I will never fully understand the inner-workings of the Hatch family. Anyways, our other neighbor who joined us for Thanksgiving dinner is a vegetarian, so he brought over some vegan spinach casserole. Throughout the day (before, during and after dinner), three football games known as the Turkey Bowl are on. My dad and our neighbor watched the games on and off all day. I was just interested in watching the pats, cowboys and get crushed by the various opponents. After appetizers and dinner, the ladies would clean up while the adult males would return to glue their faces to the television. When delicious apple and pumpkin pies were devoured, we played some goofy games of Apples to Apples, Cranium, and all those other games that make you mad at the members of your family (in a good way of course). In all the games we played, you could see the gendered answers. It was neat to see what was honorable or breath-taking to a woman as opposed to a man's answers (referencing Apples to Apples). Our neighbor was an artist who had the amazing opportunity to live in Italy for a few years and study art there. This kind of threw a monkey wrench into your stereotypical male answers. I recall a the adjective being "beautiful" and my dad put something down along the lines of reliable technology (engineer nerd). My mom and sister had things like rainbows and waterfalls. Our neighbor put down Michelangelo (flaunting his intelligence by adding the rest of his name "di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni") obviously influenced more by his history in Italy than his Y chromosome. It is always interesting to go home and see how apparent the gender roles really are in my house after taking this course for a while now.

Oppression & the birdcage-- we're all just Tweetys and Woodstocks

Where do I even start with oppression? Women, African American, poor, old...forget it is you are a poor, African American grandma. What we seem to ignore is the thought that anyone can be oppressed/the oppressor. We talked about Frye and her theory of the birdcage. The idea is an analogy about a bird cage. To really examine one rung/wire on a cage, we must solely focus on this one part. When we do that, we neglect the other parts of the cage. The same can be said about oppression. There are a myriad of roots which oppression stems from (race, gender, age, social status, etc.), but it is difficult, if not nearly impossible, to pinpoint them all. Some of these are personal barriers, while others are systematically constructed by society to oppress. Anyway you look at it, and whether you want to admit it or not, unless you are like Oprah or Trump and used your oppression in your success story (I mean no disrespect to either), we're all just Tweetys and Woodstocks in our own little birdcage. Some of us may have more luxurious quarters with a perch and fancy mirror, but we're all still behind bars. Think about it. Look at the discrimination in the workforce, or the societal hierarchy. The higher levels keep the lower levels in place with these invisible barriers of money or power or whatever may be the case. And then, we could think about the allies of the oppressed and how much they risk to advocate and fight for them. If the allies had status and credibility before, they are risking the chance of being demoted or disrespected from the in-groups. They can attempt to use their privilege to give a voice to the silent oppressed, but it may not fair well for anyone. I argued earlier that we are all oppressors too. How could a black woman be the oppressor, you ask? Well even if you didn't, think about a place where a Caucasian man could be a minority. It is becoming more equal now, but the NBA was not nearly as mixed in the past. There were and still are so many jokes about white boys slam dunking from the foul line and foul shots from the high post (I watch the Steelers, gimmie a break (or a kit-kat would do) with all this basketball terminology junk). Thinking back to a personal experience, I have been out of the country several times. This makes the opportunity for oppression pretty blatantly obvious. But even in the states, it isn't as rare at it seems. I had to get my Ecuadorian Visa in Newark, NJ (insert large groan here). As my dad and I were searching for the consulate (which ended being located in a sketchy government building with a hair salon on the bottom floor), I couldn't help but feel as if every pair of eyes on Ridge Street or wherever we were we on us. For one of the few times in my life, I was the minority, and my race rung in my birdcage was very apparent. Then another rung was coming more into focus when when we finally got to the consulate and no one was from this country, nor did they speak English, i felt the power dynamic very strongly. They were talking about me as if I wasn't there or at least assumed I didn't speak Spanish. This didn't cause any physical harm, but it certainly pulled on some psychological strings. Any form of oppression is dangerous and harmful to someone. The scary thing is that as a whole, we are ignorant to how influential our actions can be to one another both on a micro and macro scale. Ignorance is bliss, unless you are inside the birdcage in which case, it just sucks.

Sharing is caring

Sharing is caring. For men, that means partners, and for women that means just about everything except partners. From lip gloss to secrets and everything in between, there isn't much girlfriends don't know about each others lives. The funny thing is, boys do not realize this, even if we do it in front of them. In a small community like, say..Juniata, it is impossible to keep anything from anyone. Remember Widman's hookup culture talk? Well, let's face it, this educational institution is breeding ground for that. Like I have said before, here at Juniata College (and probably at any other small school like it) if you don't have a serious relationship (I'm talking 1 carat beauties), you are chronically single. There should have been a disclaimer on the application. Warning: You are about to enter another dimension. A dimension not only of ridiculous educational standards and expectations, but of the social experience. A journey into a wondrous land of the hookup culture. Next stop, the chapel to get married or plentyoffish.com! So, this next little story really is no exaggeration of the ugly truth that occurs regularly on 1700 Moore Street (though we all don't technically live ON 17th street). A really good friend of mine (pseudo name Sammy) was kind of seeing this guy (pseudo name Guy) and a few of us were hanging out at my place one night. When Sammy left, and I went to the kitchen to get to get my six layer tortilla dip (only appropriate for a Steelers win), Guy moved onto the other couch and started hitting on my other friend who is also Sammy's best friend (pseudo name Maggie). There isn't even a door between my living room and kitchen. This is how dense the male population is here! So, I am not one to meddle, but I know when the opportune moments are to fake a girl emergency (something that literally makes men run for the hills). Maggie isn't one to play her friends for fools and she wasn't into Guy anyways, plus she must abide by the girls' code. She sent a carrier pigeon right away to South 555, and Sammy just shrugged it off. Guy and Sammy had a great time that weekend and Sammy silently forgave Guy for being a guy and hitting on her best friend. During the course of that week, Guy started texting Maggie. Maggie obviously obeyed the rules of feminism and shared this knowledge with Sammy (and me, even though I don't matter to the equation). Instead of flying off the handle like most irrational college co eds, Sammy and I came up with a little social experiment. With no control group necessary, we all three kept quiet and allowed Guy to continue digging his own ostracized grave. He continued texting Maggie and Sammy at the same time, sometimes with the exact same messages. That Saturday night, Maggie was "having a good time" with Guy dancing and everything. They head for Maggie's room when they get into a conversation about how Guy and his buds share girls all the time. First of all, no girl is anyone's property. Secondly, sloppy seconds are not only okay but encouraged for guys? What?! After a more heated conversation, Maggie leaves a drunk Guy to fend for himself. Once he figured out that he was busted, he started texting me asking where Maggie or Sammy was to make sure they weren't together. It is interesting that guys think they could get away with something like that, as if girls don't talk. Girls may share lots of things, but ex-boyfriends are not one of them.

I'd prefer to mow the lawn anyway

The fine gentlemen that presented today on the topic of relationships and roles (focusing mainly on the heterosexual, middle class, white family) showed lots of charts and (skewed) statistics. They even created a survey to see what the Juniata population thought about different family roles. According to their results, the majority of the female population on campus want or are currently in an egalitarian relationship with their significant other. Most of the same students said that their parents held the more traditional roles in the household. I would say that my parents fall between the two. My father does bring home the bacon, but we wouldn't be able to have any luxuries or be living comfortably if my mom did not provide the second income for the family. There is a mutual respect amongst my parents for all that they contribute, both monetarily and the tasks of the household. In regards to tasks of our household, I would say that my sister and I actually do (or did before we graduated and went to colleges too far away to be able to contribute to the home chores) more. We did the dishes, our own laundry by age 10 (now, when we go home for breaks, it is a treat when our mother says she will do our laundry), vacuuming, dusting, mowing the lawn (well we live in the woods, so its more like mowing the ferns), raking, snow shoveling, dog washing, the list goes on. We didn't get an allowance (but we didn't go without much), but this was our parents way of showing us responsibility. Since it is just my sister and I and no brothers, we do everything inside and out. I often wonder if we did have any brothers, how the chores would be divided up. But, looking at how my parents split things up, like I said it is a healthy balance of egalitarian and traditional roles. Mom cooks most of the time, but dad is more of a chef on the holidays and special occasions. It is kind of funny, because sometimes our dad would be in a super good mood and just decide to make a big healthy breakfast of pancakes, bacon, eggs, fruit, orange juice and coffee. For no reason in particular, he would do this, but at the same time kind of expect all this praise that he did something that wasn't in his list of things to do. He kinda of has this attitude every time he cooks, which eludes to the fact that he is doing something extra and wants recognition haha! Our mother tells us that she could change a tire if she needed to, but that is what AAA is for (why else would we be paying them ridiculous amounts of money, if we were just going to change the tire ourselves). I think the big take-home piece is that it does not matter who does what, as long as there is a mutual respect and the person wants to be doing said chore. I think it is totally acceptable for the wife to do the laundry and iron her husband's clothes, as long as it is her choice and her husband isn't forcing or disrespecting her to do it. For me, if I ever do decide to get married, I would like to think that everything would have a very egalitarian approach. Taking turns with everything and sharing responsibility sounds for appealing. But at the same time, this isn't to say that the traditional thing works for some people. Who is to say what is right and wrong for anyone? The United States does it all the time to other cultures, but just because we do it, does not make our actions right. We must decide what is good and beneficial for our relationships and have respect for others and their differences.

Sex ed: 5th grade or senior year?

For me, it was 11th grade. And the 1st activity was write any words on the board that come to mind when you hear the word "sex." Being the immature, little highschoolers we were, who would giggle at the words penis and pubic hair, there were some colorful expressions and phrases written on the chalk board(we're talking pre-white board days). The problem was, by 10th grade, most kids, or at least a good amount of them, were already sexually active. Prevention talks, STI stories, and gruesome photos weren't gonna stop it once it started. The group that presented explained the different types of sex education, and I would consider ours to be more on the side of comprehensive sexuality education, which is more along the lines of safe sex, education of contraception, but on the same token highly encouraging abstinence. Eventually the school caught on that we were learning/they were educating a little too much a little too late. Each year, Health class had a different topic. One year it was nutrition, another focused on balanced lifestyle (mind, body, soul deal), etc. After several tens of babies, the district realized that sex ed in 11th grade didn't seem very valuable. They finally revamped the program, and now sex ed is in the 9th grade curriculum. Now, there are a few less preggos walking at graduation, but the number will probably never be zero again.

"Don't have sex, or your junk will fall off." "Do it and you WILL get AIDs and die." :If you have sexual intercourse, you will turn into a martian." Whether we are for or against abstinence-only programs isn't the issue. The fact that matters is that there are schools out there that are downright lying to their students. Fine if you want to hold off on letting the students know how their plumbing works; if schools don't teach, the second best classroom also known as the school bus will certainly shed some light on the situation. Not fine to lie to them though.

My personal opinion is the younger the better. I'm not saying parents should give them the 411 and rip out the diagrams the minute their kids are out of diapers; BUT at the same time, they shouldn't wait until their boys are using condoms as bookmarks for Playboy either. There is a danger in keeping the truth from children. I am sure "the talk" is just as uncomfortable for the listener as it is for the lecturer, but there are dire repercussions. The following story has not been fabricated or altered from the truth in any way. One afternoon on the way home from school, one of my friend's younger sisters overheard the word unspeakable word on the bus. She asked her brother and I what it meant. We didn't want to be the bearers of gross news, so we told her to ask her mother. The educated mom came up with what she thought would be brilliant plan to avoid the colorful vocabulary and the look of distaste she could just picture on her daughter's face when she revealed the ugly truth. So, she told her naive, yet literal little (let's call her Jane) Jane that "sex was a special hug you share with someone you love very much." If there aren't 100 different ways you could interpret that... So, our naive little Jane went to school the next day and "shared a special hug" but called it "having sex" with several of her very good friends. Obviously this led to some issues and Jane found herself in the principal's office. I actually don't recall how this story ended, because when my friend told me about it, I was literally "ROTFL" (and I hate acronyms). Like I have implied in several other posts, I don't want kids, so I can avoid this whole awkward conversation. And if that changes, I'll just make sure I research the sexuality education curriculum of the district we chose to live in.

The American Soldier: off the front lines & behind the scenes

As a nation, we are very proud of "our boys" overseas who fight for the greater good. They have what most would consider the most difficult and dangerous job in the world. They risk their lives for justice everyday. They are strong-willed, good wholesome American boys. This is the image the media gives us of our military men. What they tend to overlook is a sad and hidden truth of the lives of the same men who appear to be defending our country off duty.

Its no new news to me that rape is used as a war tactic overseas. When men rape the innocent women of a village it shows the power they hold not only to their victims but to the population (men) they are threatening to annihilate. What surprised all of us was the discovery of how US militia treat women soldiers. The same men that are defending our country are raping or sexually abusing American women soldiers. The scary thing is that these women have everything against them. They can't report it, because the men that are committing these acts are of higher rank. Who is going to believe a punch of sissy girls? Their argument is if you can't handle war, every aspect of it, then get out. This would only strengthen their case that women don't belong in the military. What stinks is that it seems women can't handle it because of the obvious "we're too emotional, not strong enough blah blah nonsense" but the reality is that rape drives women out more than the media lets on. We read a few articles about women's experiences in the army and their stories are not all happy endings. Most are more traumatized about what has happened them in the barracks than in the field. Being forced to have sexual intercourse with a comrade is more frightening than seeing death and hell on a daily basis. wow. Then there is the whole issue that women that want to join the military are setting themselves up for danger. Its that whole "they had it comin'" or "they asked for it" bull. I have never been in an army bunk house or anything, but I'm pretty sure women are not wearing little nighties and or launderette around. In fact, there are certain rules for female soldiers such as no make up, tie hair back, and basically expect a less extreme version masculation. Women don't enroll in any branch of the military to objectify themselves or meet men just like it would be unfair to assume that men become nurses so they can meet women caretakers (though that may be the motivation for some). Those assumptions not only undermine their goals, it disrespects an individual's character. Hopefully, most people are in the profession of their choice because of some internal drive or passion. But its human nature to think negatively of one another and fabricate ulterior motives. God bless America.

The other big piece of war and gender is suicide bombers. When we think of what a suicide bomber would look like or who would be the best candidate, we generally think middle eastern, middle-aged, male. However, recently statistics have been changing a little and now more than 5% of suicide bombers are women. The main argument there is that the women that sign up for that have already lost husbands and sons in war so they have no more to live for. It is basically claiming that they are victims. If that is the case we are making more assumptions. This validates the stereotypes of women's main responsibilities in the home and taking care of the family. Now we are talking about over in the Middle East; things here in the US may be a little different. But the theory remains that when women have no one to tend to, they have nothing more to live for and...that's all she wrote. They are denied the image of country hero who wants to defend their country. Personally I think suicide is simple wrong. For personal issues or your country, I don't think that it is ever in our hands to take your own (or anyone else's...but that is a whole 'nother topic for a different day) life. Regardless of my personal beliefs, the fact remains that women suicide bombers should be treated just as suicide bombers (notice you don't even need to note that they are men..its assumed) are. It isn't even about suicide bombing as much as it is the right and honor of fighting for your country for these women. Why aren't the men in war ever seen as victims? Don't we all hurt from any loss?

Human Trafficking: it's just a BAD romance

We started our presenatations this week, and kicked 'em off with human trafficking. There's nothing like diving into the deepend without floaties. I really enjoyed this group's take on such a delicate topic. We started class with a dark and impactful film and ended playing Candyland: Human Trafficking edition (I don't think Milton & Bradley will be calling them for the rights on that one anytime soon). Amongst all the valuable information the group presented, the thing that stuck with me most was the idea that it can and does happen to anyone. Take "Taken" for example. Those girls were U2 groupies one minute and drugged sex slaves the next. ::Insert shivers here:: Granted these naiive Americans were a little daft to share a cab with a complete and foreign stranger. Abide by the same principles your mommy taught you when you were 5: attractive or not, don't talk to strangers! I have lived in a few foreign countries. When I was in Ecuador, my friends and I would go on weekend excusions to climb some of the highest peaks in the world, visit the beautiful beaches of the country, and even take 15 hour bus rides as a gamble for a good weekend. I wouldn't say we were careless and made any hasty decisions. I also wouldn't say I didn't meet new people which entails talking to strangers. Ok, so I kinda bent my own rules. And we had a really good time. But looking back on it, there were probably select moments where we could have been the stars in the horrific sequel. I'll thank God for my atheist friends and me for lookin out for us and keeping us safe during our stay in Ecuador. My sister is studying abroad in Italy next semester. I am so excited for her while at the same time terrified...the latter of emotions I should have felt when I was abroad. It scares me that she doesn't really speak the language, or understand the cultural differences, not to mention that she couldn't pass as an Itaiana (there's just too much eastern european blood in us) and she's not an ugly girl. These things worry me. On the same token, she's not a stupid girl and she's got a real good head on her shoulders. Its just my role as the bossy, big sister to be concerned. I still hope there's no romance--good or bad--overseas for my too-young-to-date sister.

And then there's the other way to think about Human Trafficking. Our high school musical a few years back was "Thoroughly Modern Millie." For the broadway-impaired, Millie is a story about a girl who escapes to New York City to follow her dreams in the roaring 20's. During her journey, she meets the hotel proprietress, Mrs. Meers, who also is highly
involved with a white slavery ring in Hong Kong. Her character is depicted in a mysterious yet comical air. She sings a song about how witty she is in tricking the girls. "So welcome all ye bright young ladies; You're checking into Hotel Hades; I won't stand by while critics praise ya; You're getting shipped to Southeast Asia." And she says it in such a cynical manner (not that I know anything about cynicsm) the audience goes wild. A clever play on words makes even the darkest of deals light-hearted fun. And to add insult to injury, the scene ends with Meers' minions pushing a laundry cart with a limp arm half-hazardly hanging out. But I guess it's okay to mock reality when its continents away.

To end with a bang, here's two words: Lady Gaga. The first time we all heard what we thought was going to be a one-hit wonder, it was just a catchy tune with some wierd baby noises rah rah ramen noodles... By the third time, at least to an amateur critic (that's my backup plan if this whole college thing becomes too much and I decide to drop out in my last semester), the lyrics begin to have meaning. Put those words to a dance in a bath house during an international auction and you've got a pretty powerful message. Just in case you haven't seen it 100 times too many: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qrO4YZeyl0I
Case in point, maybe Gaga is a golden opportunity for speading these important messages. Who better to tell the truth than a world renowned pop star sensation like this meat-dress (that can't be kocher) wearing diva?