Archive: 2013

Thanksgiving is a week away.  The holiday is uniquely American, grounded in our history rather than our various religions, in a sense of family and community rather than military victories. Increasingly, commercial aspects have intruded on family priorities, but it remains a time when we gather to give thanks for what we have, and hopefully, to recognize and support those less fortunate. I wish it could also be a time for many of us to do more than feel good about spending a few hours serving turkey dinners at a shelter for battered women or homeless families. I wish it could be a time to consider the steps needed to eliminate the poverty, violence and hopelessness that create the need for such places.

But as the holiday approaches our nation confronts the largest levels of income inequality in close to a century. A college education remains a key to economic success but is less affordable every year. These realities are coupled with unrelenting, well-funded efforts that disproportionately effect the poorest among us: women and children; the elderly; those with disabilities.

Attacks against health care reform and the supplemental nutrition assistance program (SNAP), fierce opposition to an increase in the minimum wage, measures to cut off access to safe abortion, are all in the news and on the political playing field. And for some it appears that is exactly what these critical issues are—political play things. Play it right; insure your privileged position.  The idea that actual individuals—mothers, grandparents, children, war veterans, caregivers—will suffer and that those most affected are powerless to change the dynamics of the political game seem lost in allegiance to one’s group or one’s ambition, or both.

Political differences are important ingredients in any democracy, but robust measures of compassion and compromise are required as well.  Empathy for those living in less fortunate circumstances appears missing from the calculations of some of the most powerful players–those inside as well as outside political office.

How can this be?

Two recent studies offer clues. Research conducted at the University of California, Berkeley revealed that the economically advantaged are less likely to express compassion for others than are people with lower incomes. Jennifer Stellar, the lead author of the study said, “It’s not that the upper classes are cold hearted. They may just not be as adept at recognizing the cues and signals of the suffering because they haven’t had to deal with as many obstacles in their lives.”

A second study by Canadian researchers found that a sense of power can influence how people respond to others by changing the way the brain functions. Feeling powerful tends to diminish brain signals that foster empathy.

Yet obviously many powerful, affluent people are deeply compassionate and emphatic. These research studies are not about inevitable outcomes, they simply point to danger signals.

We live in a country where economic disparities foster experiences that enhance a sense of power among the affluent. These same economic divisions result in communities segregated by income, communities where few personal encounters of any depth take place across socio-economic lines. Understanding the circumstances of others becomes more difficult for everyone.

My wish this Thanksgiving is for time to consider the dangers extreme income inequality, an absence of empathy and failures of compassion pose for our country.  Feminists have long pointed out that there are no individual solutions to society-wide problems. Every one of us, politicians included, must find ways to work together if democracy is to flourish.

This month’s column features a guest-post by Adrienne Trier-Bieniek, Ph.D.: she critiques a recent pop culture debate and encourages us to question the impact of imagery and songs on healthy sexuality.  Trier-Bieniek is an assistant professor of sociology at Valencia College.  She studies pop culture, gender and healing after trauma; she also wrote the book Sing Us a Song, Piano Woman: Female Fans and the Music of Tori Amos (Scarecrow Press 2013).

_____________________

A few months ago I was sitting in the Philadelphia airport waiting to fly home to Orlando when I got a Facebook alert on my phone.  One of my college friends had tagged me in a post, a news story, with the headline “Michigan University Removes Pendulum Statue.” What followed was an E! News article featuring a large wrecking ball that hangs in the campus of my alma mater, Grand Valley State University.  The ball was being ridden by a naked person, seemingly an imitation of Miley Cyrus in her video for her song Wrecking Ball where she sings about heartbreak while naked and swinging on a wrecking ball.  As I read through the short blurb what struck me (beyond the naked student) was E!’s statement that “Miley Cyrus, the tongue flickering demon… Has set her sights on your college students!”  This was probably meant to be tongue in cheek (pun intended), but the message was clearly connected to the dangers of feminine sexuality.

A few days later, Sinead O’Conner wrote an open letter to Miley about the music industry’s penchant for over-sexualizing female pop stars and kicking them to the curb once executives have made their money.  This lead to an exchange between Cyrus and O’Conner in which Miley Cyrus attacked Sinead O’Conner’s history of being treated for bipolar disorder and her attempts at suicide.  Then Robin Thicke appeared on Oprah’s Next Chapter to discuss his performance with Cyrus at the performance with Cyrus at the Video Music Awards (VMA’s). In case you are not familiar, the routine included Miley Cyrus wearing a gold two-piece outfit, seemingly to make her appear close to nude, while “twerking” in front of Thicke’s groin while also getting sexual with a foam finger.  Thicke said that, when he is performing, he doesn’t pay attention to who is touching his body because he is focused on his music and vocals.

I study gender and music and I have spent a lot of time thinking about this series of events and their connection to sexuality and body privilege.  No doubt the video for Wrecking Ball was created to get Cyrus some attention, it couldn’t be more obvious that she was literally shedding the image of Hanna Montana as she swung on the ball.  Yet there was a vulnerability to the performance that got lost in the reaction to her appearing naked.  Most people seemed to be so caught up in gazing at her body that the expression of loss and heart-break she sang about was missed.  Perhaps this is just the media doing what it does best, finding the most alluring part of a story and exposing it.  Or, maybe the reactions to the song are found in the age-old assumption that nudity, particularly nude women, are objectionable.  Except, in 2013 women’s nude bodies not only battle the puritan stance on nudity, they also are attacked with judgments on weight, symmetry, skin color and expectations of perfection.

Sinead O’Conner is right, the music industry sets up young and attractive people in order to cash out on their youth and beauty.  It creates a standard for what young women must do in order to get noticed and to keep the audience’s attention.  Thicke’s comments about not noticing how sexual Cyrus’s dancing was at the VMA’s demonstrates a privilege that is specific to masculinity and male bodies.  How can he not realize that there is a half-naked girl grinding on him?  I find this hard to believe. What Thicke did in this moment was affirm that Cyrus’s body was the object and the subject of the performance and that his body didn’t need to be a part of the discussion.  This is a privilege granted to the person in power, most women who are performing cannot escape the objectification of the male gaze.

While I am not sure if Cyrus should be flattered by people riding naked on a wrecking ball at my alma mater, I will give them the benefit of the doubt and assume that a handful of them were hoping to connect with the vulnerable side Cyrus showed in the video.  Later this month, when I return to campus to speak, I hope to find out if this is true. Much like the famous feminist mantra that floats around “If I had a hammer I would smash patriarchy”, in this case what we need, ironically, may be a wrecking ball.

Terms like “empowerment” have flooded popular culture for quite some time, often in relation to promoting consumerism as well as hypersexual self-presentation. Of late, though, a rather unlikely source employed the word “feminist” to describe herself. Last week, media sensation Miley Cyrus stated: “I’m one of the biggest feminists in the world because I tell women not to be scared of anything.”

Central to Miley’s values of “not being scared of anything” is her embrace of shock value, especially as related to seemingly self-assured hypersexual posturing. As consumers of popular culture are likely familiar, she exhibited her self-confidence at the August 2013 VMAS, in which she performed a raunchy rendition of “Blurred Lines” with Robin Thicke. She continued her domination of the headlines by appearing nude (save for some boots) in the music video for her song “Wrecking Ball.” This sort of “empowerment” has underscored Miley’s rebranding effort from Hannah Montana to…something else more…well, “adult.”

Given that Miley’s brand of feminism feels more like Girls Gone Wild than a feminist figurehead, it’s quite interesting that she uses “feminist” as a self-descriptor. It’s notable, too, since many female celebrities, especially her contemporaries, have distanced themselves from identifying as a feminist. For example:

Katy Perry: “I am not a feminist, but I do believe in the strength of women.”

Carrie Underwood: “I wouldn’t go so far as to say I am a feminist, that can come off as a negative connotation. But I am a strong female.”

Beyoncé: “That word [feminist] can be very extreme … I guess I am a modern-day feminist. I do believe in equality … Why do you have to choose what type of woman you are? Why do you have to label yourself anything? I’m just a woman, and I love being a woman.”

The qualifications in Katy, Carrie, and Beyoncé’s communication about employing the word “feminist” reflects a longstanding conversation in feminist scholarship about why feminist has become a label that is fraught with contention. Part of the reason seems to be the history of generational conflict associated with women’s efforts to fulfill feminist aims. Along these lines, women seem to want to assert that their view of feminism is not that of their mothers or grandmothers. They want to own their feminism.

In addition, female celebrities’ ambivalence towards the term “feminist” is perhaps based on the ways in which notions of feminism have been communicated through mass media outlets over almost fifty years. As many scholars of consumer culture have identified, feminist discourse has been employed in advertisements and other media products to create a positive association between goods and the values we associate with them. This, in turn, has led to a devaluing of the language of feminism in popular culture, particularly in relation to feeling good through self-beautification. So, for instance, even though most people are aware that it’s simplistic to equate an experience of empowerment with nail polish, the constant presence of manufactured visual/verbal associations reinforces the desired meaning of the message, as in this advertisement:

While it is unlikely that wearing a nail polish called “Empowerment” will actually lead a woman to feel empowered when she wears it, it is possible that her act of carving out a space in her busy day to take care of herself and exercise an aesthetic pleasure will constitute a meaningful assertion of her power. The trouble here is that it’s not just one nail polish advertisement that links meanings of empowerment with a beauty product. The messages in this advert connect to those in other types of media texts (films, tv shows, ads/branding campaigns, celebrity images) as well as to cultural values that equate women’s work on their beauty/bodies with self-improvement. This sort of messaging about “empowerment” reinforces the idea that beauty routines are a necessity for presenting ourselves as socially acceptable and transform the pursuit of beauty into an oppressive journey of conformity.

Although feminism and feminist may currently be nebulous terms, there exists nonetheless an understanding among the public about what feminism, in essence, means. A poll conducted on People Magazine‘s website found that 92% of those who responded did not think that “Miley is, as she claims, one of the world’s biggest feminists.”

In early twenty-first century Western culture, it’s not a leap to argue that meanings and practices of feminism have become distorted and distant from their origins or that they have come to be associated with beauty-related goods and issues in consumer culture. Feminism is not a catch all for anything that involves a woman feeling good about herself, nor is it an excuse for a woman’s bad behavior. There is much feminist work to be done (see, for instance, recent studies on gender pay gaps here and here). As a culture and as individuals, we need to start thinking more about what we want feminism to be and do for women and society. Miley’s brand of feminism opened up a conversation. Let’s continue it.

I just returned from the National Women’s Studies Association Conference feeling inspired and energized. (There’s so much amazing work that I can barely stand it!) Two panels in particular spoke to an issue that I think about a great deal: how can we bridge the various kinds of feminist work going on in different places?

Ileana Jiménez spoke about how to bridge women’s and gender studies in high school and university classrooms at a visionary session moderated by Patti Provance and featuring an amazing lineup: Stephanie Troutman (Berea College), Rachel Seidman (whose Duke University undergraduate students in her Women in the Public Sphere class started the Who Needs Feminism? campaign), and Jiménez, who has been publicly sharing her work as a high school feminist teacher and advocating for social justice education for over fifteen years.

Jiménez talked about “breaking down the silos” of K-12 and university classrooms, which really resonated with me on multiple levels. As a women’s and gender studies professor and a former high school teacher, I’ve felt for a long time that we should collectively think about social justice education in middle and high school, a focus of the recent AAUW Gender Studies Symposium. I’ve been following Jiménez’s work for a while, and it was inspiring to hear her as well as Seidman and Troutman, all of whom are working in innovative ways to break down educational borders.

To move to the boundaries of geography: I had the honor of presenting on a panel with Alicia Catharine Decker (Purdue University), who talked about the development of women’s and gender studies in Morocco and Uganda. Decker’s close analysis of the histories of these two programs suggested some interesting differences in disciplinary focus, a theme that emerged in my own comparison of women’s and gender studies in Africa and North America. (A third panelist, Adrianna L. Ernstberger, was unfortunately unable to present her research on women’s and gender studies in Uganda.) Our panel suggested the possibility of mutually beneficial collaborations that might come out of future conversations between women’s and gender studies teacher-activists based in Africa and the U.S.

As Jiménez put it so eloquently: feminists must break out of our individual silos in order to create a larger movement for social change. I’d only add that we must understand the larger landscape—both our own location as well as others’—in order to cross borders and figure out how each of us can work best with one another.

by Tristan Bridges and C.J. Pascoe

Every year, since 2009, the men of England’s Warwick University’s Rowing Team pose nude together in a series of photos that can be purchased individually or collectively as a calendar. The sales from this calendar go toward supporting their team and to raise awareness about bullying and homophobia among youth. This year, however, the team received international attention (prompting the development of a twitter account, a website, and a store to sell the photos and other team paraphernalia—like their 2013 film, “Brokeback Boathouse”). At first glance it may seem surprising that (presumably) straight men would pose naked with one another to raise money. But, when looking at other straight, young, white men’s stances on homophobia it becomes clear that, ironically, part of what is happening here is a shoring up of a particular form of heterosexual masculinity. Indeed the Warwick Women’s Rowing Team produced a similar calendar without the same amount of media attention (significantly, however, the attention they did receive was more often condemnatory).

The attention the Warwick boys received echoes that directed at Seattle-based hip-hop artist Ben Haggerty (Macklemore) upon the release of his hit song “Same Love” in 2012.  The song, a ballad of support for gay and lesbian rights, was recorded during the 2012 campaign in Washington state to legalize same-sex marriage. It reached 11 on Billboard’s “Hot 100” list in the U.S., and hit number 1 in both New Zealand and Australia.  The single cover art features an image of Ben’s uncle and his partner, Sean. Macklemore, who “outs” himself as straight in the song’s opening, claims that the song grew out of his frustration with hip-hop’s endemic homophobia.*

What do the Warwick University men’s rowing team and Macklemore have in common?  They are all young, straight, attractive, white men taking a public stance against homophobia and receiving a lot of credit for it. This development seems to contradict a great deal of theory and research on masculinity (as well as conventional wisdom) which has consistently shown homophobia to be an important way in which young men prove to themselves and others that they are truly masculine (see here, here and here for instance). Upon first glance it seems that Macklemore and the Warwick University Rowers are harbingers of change – young, straight, white men for whom homophobia is unimportant and undesirable. That is, homophobia is no longer a building block of contemporary forms of masculinity.  Indeed, such a reading may be part of the story.

more...

Victoria Baritz (pictured here), a non-profit professional and political activist in New York whose work has focused on educational access and women’s empowerment, emailed me recently with questions about my career path, and the feminist nonprofits I’ve worked with along the way. I thought I’d post my responses to her questions as this month’s column, in the hope that sharing my story might be helpful to others following “alt-ac” (as in alt academic) and or/feminist paths. And speaking of following, you can follow Victoria on Twitter @victoriabaritz. She’ll be one to watch.

VB: What skills have been most helpful in building your career?

DS: My journey has been a bit atypical. Unlike many writers I know, I’m extremely social. An extrovert. Networking is something I’ve always done, without necessarily calling it that. I find people and their stories fascinating. I think that curiosity has served me.

Also, I have a hunger to learn new tricks. Eight years in graduate school left me with the ability to get smart fast on topics that seem foreign or overwhelming. That quality deepened over time. When I left academe, I got excited about embracing new technologies. These days, I’m all about embracing new modes for disseminating ideas—TEDx, Pinterest, Cowbird, Tumblr, more.

VB: Could you tell me a little bit about how you developed your career?  

DS: Before getting into the nitty gritty, here’s what I’m up to these days. After 20 years translating specialized knowledge for popular consumption, I’m now working one-on-one as a thought leadership coach and consultant while working toward my next book. I recently lead a webinar hosted by She Writes, called Thought Leadership for Writers, which shows my approach to it all. (A sampler is below.)

I’m sharing what I know as an author and platform creator by teaming up with emerging and established thought leaders wishing to differentiate or amplify their written voice, migrate “think-filled” activities to the web, and connect passionately through words—on the page, on the TEDx stage, and online. (New logo, below!)

I’ve been a consultant for over 15 years, but my primary focus on coaching individuals is more recent. On other fronts, I’m currently a Visiting Scholar in Gender and Sexuality Studies at Northwestern University and Director of the OpEd Project’s Public Voices Fellowship Program for faculty at DePaul University, now in its second year. I’ve been an author and professional speaker from 2007 on, when my first two books appeared. I’m one of those people my friend Marci Alboher describes as having a “slash career,” meaning one that integrates multiple passions, like author/speaker/consultant. I’m a multi-tasker, for sure, but one of the most important lessons I’ve learned over time is that multi-purposing is far more effective (not to mention sanity-inducing) than multi-tasking.

My current vocation is all about multi-purposing, in other words, repurposing knowledge, content, and skills. I’m helping others forge the bridge to a public voice, even as I continue to learn new skills to further my own. I’m multi-purposing life’s content in that my next book is about my boy/girl twins, or rather, it’s a graphic memoir about the gendering of childhood in the earliest years. I sense multi-purposing might be a helpful quality to develop early on, if you plan on living with slashes. Make sure your various roles feed each other. Otherwise, you burn out. There are only so many hours in a day.

So that’s where I’ve ended up. How’d I get where I am now? It’s a longer story, and not a linear one, so I’ll share the bulleted version. It sounds something like this:

• After college, still hungered for knowledge. Needed to immerse in world of professional work first. Interned and then worked at the Center for the Education of Women in Ann Arbor, where attended college. Was generously mentored (thank you, Carol Hollenshead), and landed a life-changing job at the National Council for Research on Women, an umbrella organization of women’s research and policy centers based in New York City.

• Hired by Council short-term to draft a report on sexual harassment, on the eve of Anita Hill’s charges against then-Supreme Court nominee Clarence Thomas. Ended up staying two years.  Generously mentored once again (thank you, Mary Ellen Capek, Debra Schultz, and the late Mariam Chamberlain, otherwise known as fairy godmother to Women’s Studies). Side note: While interviewing at Council, was simultaneously looking for editorial job at women’s magazine. Ms. seemed like Mecca, but was also interviewing at glossies, where would have ended up penning sex tips instead of synthesizing research on sexual harassment. Life funny that way.

• Inspired by Council colleagues, thought might like to be nonprofit leader one day. Higher ups at Council and member organizations had PhD’s. Decision to pursue doctorate confirmed.

• In graduate school, remained passionate about writing for broader audience than academic. But struggled. A lot. Sought out opportunities to gain skills, in addition to teaching, that might transfer to realms outside academe. Apprenticed with and generously mentored by editor of American Literary History. Interned at university press. Gained professional editorial skills. Generously mentored by feminist academics (thank you Susan Stanford Friedman, Susan Bernstein, the late Nellie McKay), who ultimately supported me in pursuing an alt academic path.

• New York City beckoned. Again. Took leave of absence, moved, worked as Content Strategist (dot com language circa late 1990s for someone with editorial skills) for various tech start-ups in Silicon Alley. Joined Webgrrls. Learned basic html (pre-Wordpress). Pseudonymously  launched “Dottie and Jane’s Adventures Beyond the Ivory Tower” with friend.

• Finished dissertation. Became Visiting Fellow at Barnard Center for Research on Women, where helped launch webjournal, The Scholar & Feminist Online. Became Visiting Scholar at Center for Education of Women. Reinvented as feminist journalist. Rewrote dissertation into more commercial book, after apprenticing self to friend, Katie Orenstein, who helped whip prose into shape. Joined WAM! (Women, Action, Media), then just starting. Invited to be part of first class of Women’s Media Center Progressive Women’s Voices training program. Sharpened media skills.

• Returned to Council, working closely with member centers (think tanks, policy centers, advocacy orgs) and on communications and reports that drew on network at large. Generously mentored by Linda Basch.

• Left Council the year first book pubbed. Launched Girl w/Pen blog. Began career as author/speaker/consultant, working with thinkers in nonprofit and business sectors and helping think tanks, advocacy and policy organizations deepen public impact through written word. Developed first workshop, “Making It Pop: Translating Your Ideas for Trade.”

• Tech and entrepreneurship beckoned. Again. Joined visionary Kamy Wicoff to create a social network for women writers, She Writes (now 23,000+ members strong).

• Katie Orenstein beckoned. Joined The OpEd Project, helped bring programs to the Midwest.

• Left New York City for Chicago in 2012, when toddler twins hit preschool.

Again, my journey hasn’t been linear. I’ve ricocheted between New York City and the Midwest, multiple times. I’ve reinvented, then reinvented again. I’ve tried to live by that Eleanor Roosevelt quote that’s on the back of my current business card: “You must do the thing you think you cannot do.”

The other quote I live by: E.B. White wrote in Here Is New York that a requirement for success in that city is the willingness to be lucky. I like this statement because it combines serendipity and will. You have to believe in yourself to the extent that you feel entitled to make your own luck. I credit my parents for that.

There’s a fair degree of luck, I think, in finding good mentors. But a willingness to be mentored is a quality I encourage for those just starting out. And mentoring works best when it’s a two-way street. Many of those I’ve mentored have since ended up mentoring me back. (Thank you, Courtney Martin.)

VB: What organizations that work with women’s causes in New York do you admire?  

DS: So many. I adore the Women’s Media Center. Their Progressive Women’s Voices training is top notch. The National Council for Research on Women will always be close to my heart, and I’ve long held an affinity for The Feminist Press. Catalyst is outstanding; their research grounds so much of contemporary debate about glass ceilings in business, and work/life. Girls, Inc and Girls Write Now are two of my favorite organizations servicing girls. And The OpEd Project, of course, is a social venture of which I’m honored to be a part.

Here in Chicago I’ve become an admirer of Women Employed, Chicago Foundation for Women, the Jewish Women’s Foundation of Metropolitan Chicago. And I’m still learning about new organizations out here all the time.

VB: What are some of the challenges involved in working at a feminist organization?

DS: So many feminist nonprofits are financially challenged; they’re doing the best they can with scarce resources. It constantly amazes me how much even the most challenged organizations can push out. But when an organization is fighting to stay alive, the atmosphere can be that of a pressure cooker. Also, there’s often the expectation, going in, of a nonhierarchical structure, which, for practical purposes, is frequently not the case. Generational tensions arise, as they do anywhere, but at feminist organizations these tensions can be intense, in part because of the outsized expectations we have going in.

I generally advise people interested in feminist organizational work to enter it with eyes open, just as they would any other line of work. I think it’s important to talk to people currently working at the places you’re interested in, to learn about the culture and the financial health of the organization overall, because these factors set the tone.

VB: Are there any professional or volunteer organizations that you would recommend joining?

DS: I’ve benefited hugely from networking organizations where a main focus is women helping women. Some of those I belonged to in the past no longer exist, but newer ones on my radar right now include Step Up Women’s Network (with branches in New York, Chicago, and LA). Also, it’s important to join professional organizations in your field – WAM! and Journalism and Women Symposium (JAWS), if you’re a woman journo; Women in Communications, if that’s your deal; Webgrrls if you’re a woman interested in learning more tech; and so forth. Personally, I’m finding the Women’s Business Development Center to be an enormous help, at this stage in my path.

VB: What publications do you read to stay informed?

DS: It changes. These days, aspirationally at least, the list includes The New York Times, Talking Points Memo, Bitch, feministing, Racialicious, RH Reality Check, The Hairpin, Jezebel, The Juggle (WSJ blog), ForbesWoman, Women’s eNews, Women and Hollywood, Truthout, DoubleX, Salon, Buzzfeed, Upworthy, Brain Child.

And the Council on Contemporary Families briefing that goes out to members is something I can’t live without. (To those interested, you can join CCF, here.)

VB: What are some of the developments that you see in women’s activism? 

DS: There’s way too much going on to do justice to here, so I’m going to answer this one in list form, a-z, with links. The organizations and initiatives below represent some of the developments I’m most excited about, with the caveat that this list is partial, and that I’m, of course, partial to causes in which I’m currently engaged.

Adios, Barbie

Brave Girls Alliance

Change the Ratio

Day of the Girl

Endangered Bodies

Founding Moms

Goldie Blocks

Hardy Girls, Healthy Women

Ladies Who Launch

Ladydrawers

Makers

Moms Rising

She Writes Press

SPARK

Take the Lead Women

TEDWomen

The OpEd Project

Women Moving Millions

Follow Deborah on Twitter @deborahgirlwpen

With the new PBS Frontline documentary Hunting the Nightmare Bacteria premiering this week, I hope that the American public is finally becoming aware of what many in the U.S. and around the world have seen coming for years.  I encourage readers to check out the film and the links available online through PBS. However, I feel ethically bound to issue a ‘trigger warning’ for those who do not want to view a child and young adult being ravaged by diabolical infections.

Are we ready for the post-antibiotic era?  Supposedly, we were all alerted last March when the CDC sounded an alarm – “Action needed now to halt spread of deadly bacteria” – but how many of us heard it?

We’re still in the dark when it comes to nightmare bacteria.  At this point, I’m less convinced that anyone is “hunting” these antibiotic-resistant bacteria and more convinced that these microorganisms are hunting us.  We need to be on the defensive, taking steps to protect ourselves, our loved ones, and our society.

Reading the PBS documentary’s link to “Eight Ways to Protect Yourself from Superbugs,” I found tips that are not new but are important reminders for public health.  I’m a big believer in their recommendation to question the necessity and effectiveness of all prescriptions of antibiotics (e.g., that they cannot cure viral illnesses).  That said,  I’m sad that we still need to teach people how to properly wash their hands, and I’m even more dismayed that we have to recommend that everyone asks their medical providers to wash their hands.  Unfortunately, promoting hand-washing is only a small improvement when proper drying methods are unavailable: studies continue to show that air hand dryers add more bacteria to clean hands.

In the documentary, Arjun Srinivasan, M.D., Associate Director of CDC, warns, “…the more antibiotics we put into people, we put into the environment, the more opportunities we create for these bacteria to become resistant….”  However, the environmental components – government funding for research and surveillance, public health policies, and medical norms – are not fully addressed by this film.  In addition, the causal link to meat and poultry policies/practices is completely absent.  As a medical sociologist, my critique of this documentary is that it spends a lot of time on horrific case studies and too little time on the structural and social causes, consequences, and solutions to this crisis.

For a more complete picture, see the CDC’s report with graphics that illustrate the dynamics of drug resistance.  I was stunned by chilling estimates: annually, antibiotic resistance will cause over 2 million Americans to become ill and will result in at least 23,000 deaths.  In the early years of the HIV/AIDS epidemic, activists rallied public support and political action with the message that “Silence Equals Death” – what message will wake up Americans to the realities of our new nightmare?

The past few weeks have been particularly discouraging for anyone who follows politics and believes in reasoned discourse. Hoping the local news here in town might be more to my liking, I sat down to read The Wellesley Townsman for the first time in months.  The International Day of the Girl was coming up on the 11^th of October; maybe there’d be interesting coverage of girls in the area. There was.  But whether the front-page story on the girls’ softball team was encouraging or not remains a dilemma.

The headline read, “A Level Playing Field”, followed by the subhead, “Sixth grader’s frustrated letter lands her in influential company.”  The story went on to recount how, as a fifth grader, Emily Willrich had written to the Townsman about her frustrations with the differences between town sports’ opportunities for girls and boys. There were excellent facilities available to the boys’ baseball team–a well maintained field complete with brick dugouts, night-lights, a scoreboard, and even an announcer. The girls’ softball team was relegated to a scruffy field where the lights didn’t work and at times umpires never showed up.  Emily’s letter reached the President of nearby Simmons College, who invited her to be a special guest at a college=sponsored event, “How Women Become Political”. Emily, now in sixth grade, had a chance to meet and talk with Gloria Steinem and several prominent female politicians, including Massachusetts’ gubernatorial candidate, Martha Coakley.

My first reaction was, “Wow, what a great example of  feminist progress and ‘girl power!”   Forty years ago girls weren’t allowed to play Little League, and there certainly weren’t  any town wide girls’ softball teams when I was growing up in Mystic, Connecticut.  The closest I managed to get to a town playing field was as the semi-official score keeper for the boys’ baseball team my father coached.  I learned to be a baseball watcher, not a baseball player. ‘Everyone knew’ sports were more important for boys.

Reading the article a second time, I questioned my initial response. A 5^th grader had to raise the issue?  In the second decade of the 21^st century?  Where were the adults?  What about Title IX and the guarantee of equality?  But Title IX covers only programs sponsored by educational institutions receiving federal funds. It doesn’t address town teams.  Maybe my delight was misplaced, maybe being appalled was more on target.  A young girl challenging unfairness with confidence is wonderful; it might not have happened in the years before feminism’s empowering messages took hold. But old gendered assumptions remaining so deeply embedded that no one in this upscale  town seemed concerned about the inequitable sports facilities  is, indeed, appalling.  The news story presented the proverbial half-full/half-empty glass: ‘how far we’ve come; but how far we have to go’.

The Townsmen article concluded by reporting that Emily’s mother didn’t know if her daughter’s passion for fairness might lead to a career in politics. “We’re excited to find out. Nothing she does would surprise us.”

I, for one, hope Emily will pour at least some of her passion into politics. We need her. These discouraging weeks of Congressional malfunction have highlighted the critical importance of women in political office, not simply for women, but for the entire nation.  Women in the U.S. Senate have authored most of the major bills passed this session.  Female Senators are credited with the initial steps resulting in the compromise that has finally reopened the government.  Women are consistently more bipartisan than their male counterparts in their approach to legislation.  And studies repeatedly indicate that women—regardless of their political affiliation–tend to sponsor and vote for laws that support families in larger percentages than do their male colleagues.

So, we come to another half-full/ half-empty dilemma. Currently only 20 of the 100 members of the U.S. Senate are women–an all time high. As far as progress for women and girls goes, it will be a long  time before we can discard the metaphor of  the half-full/ half-empty glass . Personally, I prefer the energizing half-full perspective; but I never forget the empty half of the glass. It’s a constant reminder of  work unfinished.

*This review does not contain spoilers.*

The recently released, Gravity, directed by Alfonso Cuaron, is visually stunning with amazing cinematography that  gives audience members the sense of being out there in space, detached from earth.

Detachment is a key theme of the film (“Detached” is also the title of the teaser trailer released last summer). Related to this, the film has many visual images that evoke birth and gestation. Though pulsing with umbilical cord imagery, it is far from a typical exploration of the meaning of life, birth, and death — and particularly because it places a woman, Dr Ryan Stone (played by Sandar Bullock) front and center – and not AS a woman, but as a human.

Though the movie is about a shuttle mission, the matter of extreme importance at its center has nothing to do with space travel, the vastness of space, nor the technological wizardry that makes space travel come alive for the audience – no, the matter of great importance at the center of the film is human survival.  The film, as noted in this review, “gives a visceral charge to the metaphorical sense of being lost and alone in the universe”

Bullock captures this existential exploration of life with not only great dignity, but in a way that captivates the audience, pulling them to the edge of their seats, tugging at their emotions, and amping their adrenaline.

Why is this important for feminists?

Because all too often movies that make audiences hearts’ race or adrenaline rush feature only male leads and incorporate violent packed action.

Gravity is an important film as it proves that YES, a woman can anchor an action-packed blockbuster, and that NO, “action-packed” does not have to include violence, superheroes, weapons, and/or huge death tolls.

Bullock is stupendous in the role. So good, in fact, that I have already added Speed, The Blind Side, The Proposal, Miss Congeniality, The Heat, and yes, even All About Steve, to my “watch again” list. Thankfully, Alfonso Cuaron had the ovaries to defend his choice of casting a female lead. Which brings me to another matter of grave importance…

The fact that such a defense is necessary.  As this Women and Hollywood  post notes, “We hear lots of anecdotal remarks from female directors about the scripts they pitch with female leads and how they are asked to change the gender, but hearing this come from an A-List director is pretty rare.”  As the post later queries, “….If Cuaron is getting shit for writing a woman, imagine what the rest of the people down the line are getting.” Indeed. The fact Cuaron, a male A-list director, has to fight for his choice to cast a female lead in 2013 is disheartening to say the least.

So, what can we as feminists do? Well, the least we can do is SEE THE MOVIE.

Hollywood listens to box office numbers. We need to put our butts in seats and show there is a mass audience for female-led movies. We can also make sure that we get non-female butts in seats so that the spin about women-led movies only appealing to female audiences can die a long overdue death.

Like Bullock, who shared her hope that Cuaron’s casting of female leads would become the norm at Comic-Con, I too hope that one day soon it will not be a matter of note that a big-budget, action-packed blockbuster has a female protagonist.

I hope that just as Ryan is released from the grip of earth’s gravitational pull, we can be released from Hollywood patriarchy and the limited films it offers us.

Here’s to many more films like Gravity, that convey women ARE human, and to the realization that our successful survival as women is profoundly shaped via the ways in which media and popular culture depicts us (or fails to depict us).

Feel that, feminists? It’s a gravitational pull forcing tugging at you to look up show times in your area…

October 11 is the second International Day of the Girl Child. At my daughter’s school, it’s a half day (that bane of working parents everywhere), so we’re going to the United Nations for the Day of the Girl Speak Out, sponsored by the Working Group on Girls. The summit will be live-streamed at the Day of the Summit website, which explains the event as follows:

This event will give girls the chance to speak with governments and UN Agencies about how they are making strides for girls in their community. Girls selected for the Girls Speak Out will share information about their strategies for creating change and they will talk about how the international community can support their efforts. Approximately half of the girls at the Speak Out will present on issues related to the International Day of the Girl 2013 theme, “Innovating for Girls’ Education.”

After the Speak Out, we’re heading over to Times Square to dance and celebrate with the Brave Girls Take Back Media campaign, organized by The Brave Girls Alliance. They’ve rented a billboard in Times Square that will feature tweets from girls, parents, educators, and other adults about what girls want and need. (What do brave girls want? My daughter listed the following: “Clothes that girls can be active in! Legos with ‘regular’ girls! Legos with girls who wear clothes they can be active in!”)

You can tell my daughter loves Legos. And not the pink variety, either. The “regular” kind.

Needless to say, I’m very excited about tomorrow. I feel hugely privileged to be able to take my daughter to the UN and Times Square and listen to girl activists from around the world. (My daughter is a kid who loved the movie Lincoln and whose list of Fun Things To Do includes reciting the names of the U.S. presidents and several of the Constitutional Amendments, so this stuff is right up her alley.) I’m most excited about the fact that the main purpose of the Speak Out is to listen to other girls. I have no idea what they’ll say, of course, so I’m a bit nervous. My daughter is only ten. But the vibe around the event is positive, and though she might not understand everything, I’m hoping we’ll both learn from listening. And frankly, I can’t think of a time when we’ve ever had an opportunity to do something like this.

At the same time, I have some questions about the global girls’ movement. How to ensure that the missionary zeal that has characterized so much global feminism coming from Western feminists will not also inflect the global girls’ movement? How to make sure that a diverse range of girls from around the world will have an equal voice in this movement?

As a parent, I also wonder: How can parents teach our kids about global inequities and being empowered as activists without disempowering less-privileged girls?

I don’t know the answers to these questions. I’m hoping that listening will be a good place to start. And then, of course, talking about what we hear.

Another challenge for the girls’ movement revolves around this question: How to ensure that girls of all ages are included, and that adult women don’t wield too much power in what should be a movement of and for girls—a movement that enables girls to be its leaders?

I write that last sentence having just seen the film Wadjda, which features the most fabulous girl protagonist I’ve seen in a long time. Ten-year-old Wadjda lives in Riyadh, wears high tops, loves mixtapes, and sells homemade bracelets sporting popular soccer colors. She is fiercely independent and determined. What does this brave girl want? A bike.

Wadjda is the first feature-length movie filmed in Saudi Arabia, and the first movie to have been made by a Saudi woman, Haifaa al-Mansour. It’s quiet but memorable. I won’t say much more, only that the film reminds us of how change happens: one girl—and one bike—at a time.