Modern Sexism

The problem is subtlety. The problem is "how far we've come." The problem is enlightenment. The problem is a society that congratulates itself on the freedom and equality all face when compared to how it was, when compared to where it is elsewhere. This is the problem.

The problem is that Candy Crowley and Poppy Harlow did not even think about the implications of their words because on the face of things, without 20/20 criticism, there seemed to be no issue with their words. It seemed to be the natural way to frame the story, given that the victim is protected and anonymous.

The problem is using the advancements we have made as a culture (as in, allowing rape victims to remain anonymous) to facilitate a step backward in the name of ease. CNN focused on the "only" angle of the story they were given, they maybe didn't have the money or the staff to flesh out the story in a way that would have caused an emotional response in the audience without falling to the "these poor boys' lives are ruined" line as the boys break down into tears about their ruined lives. Their own lives that they ruined. Not like the girl's life that they interrupted, that they acted upon. The problem is people like me assume her life was ruined. We don't know her. You have a friend who has a friend who didn't consent to something like that and they don't even think about it. The problem is not being able to talk about these kinds of things when we need to.

So, where's the line? Where's the line between protecting victims and letting them move on, and calling for the rational and equal treatment of women as a set of human beings? Are they on separate sides of the equation? The problem is, as much as you are reading this blog right now, there are millions of people who watched CNN and since there was nothing blatantly, glaringly wrong with their coverage, some of these people don't really think about it at all. Some process it peripherally, and the words, the scenes, they sink in unconsciously. They permeate, if even for a short time, our view of the matter. The problem is many viewers of that coverage were not outraged, and as such, ingested those messages as legitimate, tossing them aside into the abyss of thousands of other messages received that day. The problem is those messages stick around because of their quietness, of their unobtrusive nature.

The problem is subtlety.

In a society which congratulates itself on how far it has come, on how much obvious recognition we (spokenly, if not in action) give these problems, the problem is that a news organization thinks there are any acceptable reasons to sympathize with someone who raped someone else. The problem is deeper even than that. It's that the news organizations didn't think at all.

The problem is that our resting point as a society still doesn't question these innate assumptions about rape victims, oppressed peoples and women. It doesn't question them because it thinks we've overcome them. And if you're above something, you don't have to think about it anymore. It's not you. It's not what you are doing or what you think. Only it is.

The problem is we think we've solved a problem when we haven't.

And the polarization that occurs out of that includes people arguing that we should "lighten up," or "enjoy entertainment for what it's worth."

The problem is the people who say that think they are not affected by the messages. The problem is they are not affected by those messages.

They are effected by a layering process that starts when we're just old enough to take in our immediate world around us, where dominant ideologies persist, no longer through force, or through blatant acts of coercion but through a more modern, more subtle, more intricate path to our brains.

The problem is we can never attack this modern sexism because we never think about it. Because we think we're more sophisticated than that. It doesn't apply to us.

"I can watch a scary movie, mom, it won't scare me. I know better."

The problem is this isn't a scary fucking movie. This is real life.








 

Let's Talk about Sex

If you know me at all, you know I bumble around a lot. Usually I emerge unscathed, but sometimes I do something completely embarrassing that forces me to take a look at myself and at all the feels I usually bury deep inside.

This is one of those times.

Not too long ago, my beautiful cousin, who is getting married to a wonderful man (well, I've not met him, but I trust her), posted this article on my Facebook feed.

Waiting Until the Wedding Night -- Getting Married the Right Way

Now, it's no secret that weddings are a teensy bit of a sore spot for me, what with my own being a ten-minute ceremony in the JP's apartment while the nurses in the maternity ward looked after our six-day-old premature twins. (In our defense, it was supposed to be a shotgun wedding proper. The girls just had other ideas.)

But, I'm a bigger person than someone who would hold someone else's wedding against them. No, I swear I am!

It wasn't that. It was the article itself.

I can't explain to you how overjoyed I am that my cousin is finally tying the knot with someone she loves and cherishes and that she has waited to give up her virginity until now. Because that's how she wanted to do it. That is what she believes in, and that is her right. I couldn't be prouder.

Apparently, though, people make fun of other people for not having sex. People look down on other people for not having sex. Having never had that issue myself (clears throat), I didn't know that.

But Mr. Steven Crowder let me know. And he let me know in a big way. And I felt bad for my cousin. I thought, "Jeez, who are these dicks who would try to cheat a person their happiness because they chose to do things a different way? That must suck. Can't we just stay out of each other's bedrooms at least."

Then I got to this line: "When people do marriage right, they don’t complain so much, and so their voices are silenced by the rabble of promiscuous charlatans, peddling their pathetic world view as “progressive.”"

I'm sorry...what?

Crowder goes on to call me a floozy, a harlot, and in another piece the "comedian" has written, a concubine.

And I'm here with my jaw on the floor, thinking, man, Steven Crowder, I didn't even know who you were, but I was happy for you and your new wife. I mean, congratulations and all. I was just over here having my sexy times...could you not call me names, though?

And I stewed. And I thought about it. And I posted the article to some close friends to get their imput.

And I self-righteously decided that I was angry with the article because it prevented me from sharing in my cousin's happiness because I couldn't like a status attached to that tripe.

Yeah, right. Good try, self.

A friend of mine then sent me this article, by Jezebel.

In Case You Haven't Barfed Today, Here's the Stupidest Fox Article of All Time

God, I love Jezebel. I want to work for Jezebel. Seriously.

As far as the article is concerned, I was mildly disappointed, because I think they could have done a much  better job responding to the article by Fox point by point. The gif parade only pretty much proves Crowder's point. (Though I totally laughed at Harry Potter picture and at the last gif where the guy is calling himself a comedian.)

I posted it. I clicked share, and I posted it.

Here's where the bumbling and introspection comes in.

Later that night, after I'd gone to sleep, I received notice on my phone that my cousin's brother (also my cousin, but that would get confusing, no?) had posted something on my wall.

Guilt consumed me. Had I angered him? Hurt him? Insulted him in some way? Did he also think I was a harlot and a floozy? Oh God.

I ran down to my laptop as soon as I could and loaded up Facebook. I couldn't find the posting. I checked my junk email where I send my notifications. I couldn't find the notifications. I checked the little world icon up there. Nothing.

He deleted it, I thought. He posted something tearing me down, thought better of it because he's actually an awesome Catholic, and took it down.

Did I deserve it? I thought and mused. Yeah, kind of, I guess.

That was an asshole thing to post, knowing that my cousins firmly believe in marriage before sex. Did they think I was judging them? Because I wasn't. I do reserve judgement for Mr. Crowder. He is a douche. And he is a detriment to the Christian cause. Because articles like that do nothing but push people who were otherwise in quiet support or on the fence away. I know that I want nothing to do with a religion that calls all my friends names for their private dealings. But it's not the religion. It's that one person. (Okay, a bunch of people. But the ones on the other side are just as bad with the name calling.)

What was needed was an article that went like this: I waited to have sex until I got married and it was totally awesome! Here's why! Not, nyah nyah nah boo boo, you are a poo poo!

Just saying.

But anyway, back to me.

I was so overcome with shame, that I wrote my older cousin a personal message, explaining my actions, and asking for forgiveness. And that was hard.

What's harder is that I'm sure he looked at his inbox like, what the heck is wrong with Darlena?

Because he had sent me a request from SchoolFeed.

Guilt, people. I have it.

And does it matter to me that I didn't "do it the right way?" Not at all. Not in the slightest. I couldn't care less because my family is strong and right and good and I love both my daughters and my husband with a fervor I have never known before.

But I found out that it mattered to me that other people might severely judge me for the way my life unfolded. People close to me. Like my extended family.

And that's a good thing to know. Because now I can work on two things. 1) I can work on having that not matter to me. Because it shouldn't. And 2) I can give those close to me the chance to not be judgmental a-holes. It is absolutely unfair of me to assume that because a person did things a certain way in their life, that they would expect me to do the same and judge me for it. I can at least give them the benefit of the doubt.

I can at least be better than Steven Crowder.




 

Tanning Mom

Tanning Mom.

 I'll be totally honest here. When I first saw the video that went along with this story about Patricia Krentcil bringing her five year old to a tanning salon and possibly burning her in one of the booths, I forgot about the story.

I forgot to be outraged.

I laughed. Then I wide-eyed. Then I laughed again.

I've been thinking about the story for a few days now. Until this point in my life, I had no idea about so-called "tanorexia" (a name I don't like at all). Does it exist? Are there chemicals released through the rays aimed at the skin? Is it different from those released within the body from the sun, itself?

What a weird thing.

I originally came here to poke at her calling her critics fat and ugly, but reading the news about it, it seems as if she's only calling one person that, someone she knows, someone who supposedly hates her.

I have people who hate me, too, Patricia. They don't hate me because they're fat and ugly. They hate me because I annoy them, bother them, have done something to them that they have decided is deserving of hate. Their appearance has nothing to do with it.

On that train, should Krentcil's appearance have anything to do with the story of child endangerment?

I know that upon seeing her, my reaction was, duh, guilty. But back up. That's not fair. I drink coffee and alcohol, but my children don't. There are many parents out there with various addictions, mental disorders, phobias and other hardships that work very hard not to pass them to their children or expose their children to their battles. Just because you have a thing, doesn't mean you're passing it off to your children.

Now, Krentcil might be. I don't know. She did, so far as I know, at least bring the child to the salon and had her wait outside the booth. I wouldn't leave my five year old outside a tanning bed. But if it's an addiction well...

Point being, I had my laugh, and it wasn't very right of me.

Patricia Krentcil needs help. Maybe therapy, if she truly is addicted to this, maybe guidance from public services to help her make decisions that won't land her in the news with a butt-of-jokes nickname. Maybe a babysitter so that she can go do this without bringing her kids along.

Whatever she needs, I hope she gets it. And I hope her kids grow up strong and form their own opinions on the hazards of tanning (which are great) compared to the benefits (which are small). And not just tanning, but everything.

To me, this is just another story of moderation is key.

**However, I don't yet believe that she stuck her kid in that tanning bed. If she did, well, she was really, really wrong.

As parents, we have to set the example for our kids. We have to fight our demons on our own time, and seek help if we cannot pull that off alone. It's not weakness, it's strength. It gives the next generation the best possible start.

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