A friend posted this story of a man returning a lost camera on Twitter tonight. It’s a heart-warming story of someone going to great lengths to do a good deed for a stranger, but my first instinct was to be creeped out. The return of the lost camera (and the photos, which was really the important part) was initially so overshadowed for me by the stifling creepy crawly feeling of being invaded and vulnerable if someone had been doing that much detective work to figure out who I was and where I lived and how to contact me that I actually had to step away from the story and take a deep breath before I kept thinking about it. Continue reading
Category Archives: feminism
For all the substantial progress of feminism, the larger culture is still awash in portrayals of women that hew closely to the long-standing stereotypes, that push us to think about ourselves in terms of our attractiveness, our sexual appeal, our fashion sense, our youth, etc etc. These issues intrude, one way or another, into almost every facet of life- into our work and the beers after, into our family life and our relationships, into our education. There is always someone critiquing our bodies or our style. There is always someone trying to sell us a miracle skin cream or a pair of shoes or fucking yogurt or whatever on the grounds that it will make us more acceptably and attractively feminine. Now, we’re adults and we can handle it, but sometimes, frankly, the cultural stereotypes of heteronormative femininity are a pain in the ass. Sometimes one gets pretty fucking tired of being appreciated, shamed, warned, and appealed to ‘as a woman’.
This is a fantastically written piece, and while it’s specifically about hockey and the CBC’s new (and shamefully sexist) “While the Men Watch” broadcasts, it sums up how I feel about things like Baseball Boyfriend and the Victoria’s Secret cross-branding with MLB to a tee. People like Greg Papa have jobs and get to make face noise at me on my television on the regular, but Jaymee Sire and Susan Slusser barely get any attention. I can buy this or this but not a shirt or jersey of any past Giants great in women’s sizes. Meanwhile I can take my pick of Bonds, Clark, Mays, McCovey, Cepeda, Marichal, Snow, Kent, Aurilia (and probably more I’m forgetting) if I’m willing to buy a men’s size that will never quite fit the way I want to because hey, sorry, I do have tits and am not 6’ tall. Continue reading
I’ve written and trashed, started and re-started, edited and tweaked and changed angles on what I’m about to write probably fifteen times in the past week and a half or so, and it’s still not quite right. I’ve accepted that this is hard for me to write and decided to just put it out there in the best form I think I can muster right now, because I’d rather say something imperfectly than say nothing.
Tuesday a week ago (February 7th, to be clear) I was, as is pretty normal for me right now, doing some pre-season baseball research and bantering back and forth with my usual gang of Twitter compatriots when someone, I can’t even remember who exactly, came across the nearly hilariously misogynist “fantasy baseball for girls” disgrace Baseball Boyfriend (I’m not directly linking because screw them, I don’t want to give them the traffic, but you can Google if you’re that curious and somehow missed the kerfuffle). There was an initial furor, which quickly turned into some giggle fits that left me snorting my afternoon Diet Pepsi, but, as the day wore on and the news of the California Proposition 8 appeal ruling broke, I saw a few people (actually mostly women) who seemed to think that the people who were aggravated by women being treated as if baseball needed to be more like some middle school sleepover game to be interesting to them needed to be quiet and pay attention to the “real” issues in the world. The sentiment bothered me at the time, but I wasn’t quite sure why. I mean, on the surface, it’s a reasonable enough thing. Who cares about some silly fantasy baseball game whose target audience is clearly not me or most of my friends when there is real injustice to be fought? But still, it bothered me. Continue reading