Schadenfreude, Feminism, And The Battle Of Five Armies

On a blog on the net, there was a feminist. Not a nasty, slimy, filthy blog, filled with plots of castration and world domination, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy blog devoid of humor: it was a feminist blog, and I liked it. Then the trolls came smashing through the doors and that blogger had to step away from the angry people.

Suffice it to say, the internet doesn't always bring out the best in us, particularly when we go all Human Torch on each other. I miss Jen's writing. I recognize that not everyone does, and some people were just as elated when she quit as I was sad. I get why it happens, though. In a word, one simple and elegant word that should be taught early and explored often, it's schadenfreude. If you've never heard the term before, Scientific American has a great article on it that begins with an excellent description:

There is no English translation for the German word schadenfreude—that small, private rush of glee in response to someone else’s misfortune. But everyone recognizes the emotion, even if he or she might not have a word for it (or admit to feeling it). 

There's nothing quite like a challenge over the rights to wear the Real Feminism™ label (and whether or not people who want to tear down anyone who isn't a Feminist™ do more harm than good) to bring out the angry in just about anyone. Jen threw down the gauntlet with Atheism Plus, and the secular community exploded. I don't particularly feel the need to go into the details of the latest flare up... if you're following it, you have your own opinions, I'm sure. Long story short, a guy got into a flame war that turned pretty ugly, and there are a lot of people who don't feel he deserves to have a position of leadership in the secular community because of it.

There's a petition out there right now to get Justin to step down, and it's dripping with Schadenfreude, and that's where I draw the line. I don't have to like the way a person behaves online or offline to acknowledge and appreciate a relentless pursuit of goals I care about.

Part of third wave feminism is the recognition that everyone has an opinion to share, and there is no monolithic best way forward. For some people, the notion that anyone should pull their punches and tread gently when egalitarian concerns are brought up is insulting. For some people, the entire idea of us vs. them infighting is, in and of itself, the problem. Call them "chill girls" or "privilege deniers", sure, but if you do it with scorn, you're missing the fucking point. Feminism isn't about what one person, or even what many people, want it to be. It's a constantly evolving reflection of the entire human effort to end sexist attitudes towards women altogether.

This means that we value the voices of the chill girls along with the voices of the shrill girls along with the voices of the somewhere-in-between girls (and boys) who are also individuals, each with flaws and strengths of their own that they bring to the table. Together, we make up the women and men of our community, all of whom are fighting very hard to advance a common goal.

I started this off with a riff on the opening of "The Hobbit" for a reason. The end of that book has a lovely bit where the good people of Middle Earth are getting ready to tear each other to shreds because they can't figure out how to compromise and work together. All the while, the real battle is waiting on the horizon, and it's a battle they can only win if they put their differences aside and work together. While Tolkien himself despised allegory, I'm a fan.

(Please note that my opinions are my own. I'm a secular woman, I'm not *the* Secular Woman. And really, that's kind of the point.)

Cutting down the lines of communication, shunning, and sniping are tactics that should only ever be employed as a very last resort. Communication is key. Even if we have to sacrifice our schadenfreude to do it well.

Understanding Mormons: It's A Real Problem

Mitt Romney has been under a lot of pressure lately. Not that there's anything wrong with or even surprising about that. The lead up to the presidential debates is always intense. Candidates typically respond by delivering their vision with articulate and passionate bullshit, carefully wrapped and vacuum sealed to energize the base without alienating the center. We're used to it.

But there are other types of pressure that have popped up on the campaign trail for Romney this September. For example, there's the pressure of being born wealthy, white and male, which apparently makes politics hard. It sounds awful as a joke, and plays even worse when the makeup artist accidentally goes too dark on the foundation when you're speaking to a Hispanic audience. Bad timing, that. There's also the whiplash realization that 47% of the nation aren't all Obama zombies chanting "hoooope, chaaaange", and many of them actively resent being characterized as such. Rumors flying around that your running mate has taken to calling you "The Stench" don't help either, especially when coupled with the enormous pressure of party insiders shifting their support to candidates lower down on the ballot because your numbers look bad on paper. I'm sure the irony isn't lost on a venture capitalist.

And then there's plain old cabin pressure, which you'd think would be a familiar and comforting thing to someone who flies as often as Mitt does. But he has problems with that, too. High school physics must have been hell. I feel for the guy.

Underlying all of this, though, is the giant elephant in the middle of the room that has only lightly been touched on so far; Romney's tax exemptions include huge donations to a church that includes secret handshakes and sacred undergarments. Join now, become the God/Goddess of your own planet in the afterlife. Certain restrictions apply, must be married and in good standing with the church to see the face of God. What Mitt refers to as "service" in France during the Vietnam war, the rest of us call "sales".

I'm joking, of course, at the expense of good people who happen to be Mormons; I try not to do that too often, because it's a gross oversimplification of what churches do, for better or for worse. Walter Kirn has an excellent article which handles both his troubles with blind faith and his utter disdain for people who make jokes about magic underwear, even though he's not a Mormon anymore. Along the same lines, the carefully focused criticism leveled by Brigham Young's great-great granddaughter, who left the church when she was 50, is more compelling on every level than the obvious cheap shots about Native American Jews. Stories like these lend texture and perspective to an ex-Morman friend of mine's outrage over the way that the church stepped in on Proposition 8 to pit black voters against gay and lesbian couples, and to her ultimate take on the position of women in the church:

"I saw it as what it was - exclusion through exaltation. Motherhood is so wonderful you should be happy god gave it to you instead of the silly priesthood.... The power structure of the church is a huge problem. And the women feel it but it is kinda an "emperors new clothes" thing. No one wants to be the first to say they don't wake up filled with the glory of gods plan!...  The women are the enforcers of it on the other women as the culture is spread and reinforced."

The real question is how Mitt Romney's faith informs his vision for America. Is it one where women like my friend and Brigham Young's great-great granddaughter feel valued for more than just their skills in raising children? Or is it a vision that puts women on a pedestal and then tells them to stay home and clean the toilets? Is he a pluralist who believes in the inherent dignity of humanity, regardless of race, opinions about religion, gender, sexual attraction, or socioeconomic status? Or does he have blind faith in a single path to salvation that excludes 99% of the world? These questions stop being about "freedom of [read: to legislate in favor of a specific] religion" and start becoming terribly important when a President starts making recommendations to the Supreme Court. If you're going to be Commander-in-Chief of the armed forces, I'm interested in whether or not you expect churches to provide lifelong care for severely wounded soldiers instead of the VA. I want to know if you're going to tell a woman who has five kids that she needs to keep that eight-week-old fetus even though there's a risk to her life and only a 50% chance of survival for the child. I probably won't vote for you if I know your interpretation of your role as a bishop involves trying to bully a single mother who used to take care of your kids with threats of excommunication if she doesn't put her soon-to-be-born second child up for adoption. These are, obviously, not random examples.

[edit for clarity] All that being said, I'm not opposed to a Mormon President any more than I am to a Christian one, so long as the person following the religion doesn't try to force their religious values on me. There's something inherently (at the risk of sounding like a zombie) hoooope-ful about a presidential race between a Mormon and an African-American. I wanted to see the Huntsman-Obama debates, and I wish the primary voters had picked the better man. Maybe next time around.

So Be Nude For Goodness' Sake

Some of the links in this post contain artistic expressions of nudity. If you'd prefer to avoid them, I've made them pretty obvious.

If you haven't heard about this yet, there's a fund raising push within the secular community for Light The Night. The Foundation Beyond Belief is aiming to raise $1,000,000 to help win the fight against blood cancers. There are very few things that everyone agrees on, but finding cures for cancer and improving access to existing treatments and counseling for patients and their families is one of them. Please click the picture below if you want to learn more or donate to our team.

So what, you may ask, does walking a few miles with fellow humanitarians have to do with nudity or goodness? Well, the goodness part should be obvious. It's a good and worthy cause to support. But doing that nude or partially nude? October in the Windy City is a time for layers and hoodies, not bare skin!

No, my thoughts on nudity have to to do with a project that Secular Woman has in the works. Atheists Breaking Through: The Reveal 2013 Nude Calendar will be sold to raise money for our women's travel fund and for the Foundation Beyond Belief's contribution to Light the Night (see, I told you there was a connection). Actually, this is the second nude calendar project I've seen promoted this year. The first was a direct critique of patriarchal repression and outright oppression of women, inspired by Egyptian blogger *NSFW*Aliaa Magda Elmahdy. You can read more about that project and download or buy the Nude Photo Revolutionary calendar *NSFW*here. It's worth a look. Just not at work.

This calendar is a little different, though. (Although I still wouldn't bring it to work.) For one thing, women and men are participating. The scope is wider, and the intent to include a broad cross-section of humanity is more, well, explicit. Also, whereas the first project was very much an exercise in solidarity with a very brave woman that made perfect sense to me, this one got me thinking a bit more deeply about marketing, target audiences, and overall messaging. What does a nude calendar have to do with the fight against cancer or helping women who couldn't otherwise meet with other activists in their community come together at conferences? Does the content need to be connected to the causes it supports?

First and foremost, there's the question of why all the nekkidness? If you have kids school aged or above, it's not like you're going to hang that on your wall without killing your child's inclination to have anyone over for the next year or so. The same thing holds true for the coffee table or the end tables. While it certainly wouldn't scar your child anymore than having a tasteful piece of sculpture on the liquor cabinet, you're probably going to hear about it. So, it's a calendar, and it needs to hide in a drawer if you're a parent and don't like it when your kids nag you. Not exactly practical. Then again, I remember being all about the National Geographic magazines as a grade school kid, so that argument is probably erring on the side of forgetting just how naturally curious kids are. Keep it with the other artsy books, and let the kids look if they want to. Let them know it's there so they don't freak out if they run across it, and let them know that you're open to any questions they might have. Surely, that's a lot healthier than letting their only exposure to nudity be through the wonders of cable television and other media outlets less focused on dignity and more focused on making a buck. As a parent, I can see the value in a calendar that presents nudity in an artistic and meaningful context. Sold.

As a feminist and a humanist, I can see the value, too. While I don't actually think a fundraising item needs to be connected to the cause it supports, it helps when it is. In this case, one of the reasons women have trouble getting to events is that we are paid less than men for the same skills in many fields. (For anyone who disagrees, please get back to me after you've read this.) Regardless of your gender, you have to trust your community to help you find your place in society, and to make sure that the deck isn't stacked against you. By including pictures of women and men in the calendar, it underscores the fact that we are all vulnerable, even when empowered. We need each other to thrive, for practical matters like survival and for emotional connections that make survival meaningful and joyful. This is true in general, but it's particularly obvious when someone falls deathly ill and the cure hasn't been found yet, or is financially out of reach. There is nothing quite so naked as raw need, and nothing quite so fulfilling as being able to help.

So this is why I'm going for a walk in the park next month, and why I'll have some tasteful art in my home that isn't buried in a desk drawer to shelter my daughter from nudity.

Although, from a practical standpoint, I'd also like to ask, "Will there be an app for that?"

How Not to Address Racial Bullying

Just don't talk about it.  Pretend it doesn't happen. Or, if you try to do that and the story still won't die, give it the 70 seconds of airtime it deserves and make it clear there will be no further comments.

I want to be fair to the media here. Part of the reason why this story slipped under the radar is that the woman at the center of this story has made it clear she doesn't view this as behavior that is unique to the RNC, and has turned down multiple requests for interviews. I can't fault her for not wanting to relive this humiliating and frustrating experience over and over again. Life goes on.

What I can do, though, is talk about my own frustration-- because there are broader aspects to the way this incident played out that will not be brought into the public discussion, and they should be. While CNN was still burying this story, Jamila Bey did a piece for the Washington Post that is very worth a read in full, particularly since the camerawoman was a close friend of hers.  In particular, the part of the story that happened after the officials for the convention showed up to investigate is worth paying attention to. She writes:

"At this point, I expected my friend to tell me how the RNC apologized profusely, how they genuinely seemed to feel bad and how they themselves became outraged by the whole thing. She didn’t. Rather, she told me that RNC security investigated by asking of the assailants, 'Were they black or were they white?'"

I've never been a security guard before, but I expect there is some sensitivity training involved when it comes to getting a physical description of the people you are trying to track down from someone who has just been attacked. To say that this was an indelicate way of going about it is to be charitable. A more accurate assessment of their lead-off question might start with the words overtly offensive. It should also include the phrase statistically challenged and possibly indicate that they were blind in every sense of the word. Surely, the actual RNC officials who came by later would do better, right?  They couldn't possibly try to minimize what happened by immediately falling back on the defense that these people (who, let's not forget, had front row seats by the press pit) must have been attendees, and not actual delegates or people with any influence in the party.

Except, of course, that's exactly what happened.

I keep hearing we live in a post-racial world, one where "reverse discrimination" prevents people from getting the jobs they deserve. "Legitimate" male white privilege is just a figment of your imagination, and certainly wouldn't happen if you were barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen making sammiches for your six kids where you belonged. Or, you know, in a zoo or something.

I am enraged by this. Everyone should be enraged by this. But mostly, what I'm enraged by is that these nameless bigots got to spend some extra time in the strip clubs and then go home to their local political scene and their families with no repercussions whatsoever. Predictably, the comments in the few places where this was given the attention it deserved  have been "pics or it didn't happen", or "they were plants".

This should have been a wake up call. Instead, the offenders get a slap on the wrist, and we get a snooze button and get told to go back to sleep. Don't worry. I'm sure the alarm will go off again. That's a comforting thought, isn't it?

Happy Birthday, Phyllis Schlafly: Round 1

It's been an interesting couple of weeks in the culture war over women's reproductive rights, to say the least.

There's a lot of research out there detailing exactly how the tides have shifted over the past thirty years, but recent polls and ever tightening restrictions on abortion at the state level have shown that for the first time since the good old days of coat hangers, the pro-life movement has the upper hand by a nice solid margin.

It certainly appears that the cumulative effect of a decade's worth of millions of dollars spent attempting to overturn Roe v. Wade one red state at a time (touched off by the Webster decision in 1989 that kicked Roe in the ovaries and hard) is paying off. Looking at the numbers, it's clear to see why U.S. Senate hopeful Todd Akin felt comfortable talking candidly about how he justifies his position, even in the event of rape or incest.

Of course, another way of looking at the data is that the number of voters who immediately recognized the pro-life movement's connection to the "woman's place is in the kitchen" crowd has been slowly replaced by a younger group of voters who don't really understand how powerful that movement is, or how comprehensively they have been marketed to. Speaking for myself, I'm a Gen Xer. Coke vs. Pepsi, the fall of the Berlin Wall, and the first war in Iraq were the big issues of my day. The feminists who fought for the ERA before I was born had been re-branded as feminazis by the time I was in high school, and burning my bra in my twenties seemed like a waste of perfectly good lingerie. Hell, I didn't even know who Phyllis Schlafly was until I had been out of college for years, and I'm pretty sure I'm not alone in my demographic. She's worth getting to know a little better, particularly for those of us who weren't around when she was fighting the ERA.

This matron-saint of the movement to end all abortion, even in the case of rape and incest, gave a speech at the Republican National Convention yesterday in which she said:

“The pro-life plank of the platform...is really not controversial in the Republican Party anymore. It is just a blind statement and, I think, one of the things we have done to make the Republican Party pro-life. Almost all of our candidates in 2010 were pro-life, and they are again this year.”

She's certainly correct about that. But I think there are some important details Schlafly is leaving out. One woman's "pro-life" stance for herself looks very different from a "pro-life" stance that criminalizes abortion. The same set of data, when expanded to allow for a more nuanced approach to the issue, looks quite a bit different.

Looking at the second chart, it's clear to see why Akin maybe should have saved that speech for the country club, where most of the people in that 22% figure are already drinking the same Kool-Aid and calling it science. Don't get me wrong. It's time that we started having a serious national debate about these issues. When some mothers are already being put in jail for crimes against the unborn, it's arguably past time.

Finally, the issue of abortion is getting the deep analysis it deserves on the national stage, instead of a shallow treatment in which we're all free to hold our own opinions and now back to American Idol.

Paul Ryan's followup interview in response to the, shall we say, negative publicity probably didn't help. He rather nonchalantly referred to rape as a "method of conception" just as the headlines were starting to focus on his partnership with Akin in co-sponsoring "personhood" legislation. Did I mention Arizona governor Jan Brewer signed a law redefining the date of conception as taking place two weeks before intercourse back in April? That's getting some attention now, too. But wait, there's more. Just when you thought the crazy train couldn't possibly make any more spectacularly blunderstruck stops, we get another Republican U.S. Senate candidate, Tom Smith, hopping on board to say that carrying a rape baby is not all that different from having a child out of wedlock. (And yes, he actually used the term wedlock.  Quaint, no?)

The backlash is starting to (if you'll pardon the grim pun) bleed over into Romney/Ryan's once solidly red numbers in Missouri. Still, Phyllis Schlafly ended her remarks at her little birthday shindig by telling an enthusiastic crowd, "We're winning. We're on the winning side."

All I have to say is I hope she enjoys that layer cake. If my generation and the younger voters rise up to meet this tectonic shift toward the insane the way I think we will, it will turn to humble pie come November.

What's with the A+ Thing?

There's a new brand of atheist activism being kicked around the blogosphere these days, and some really great discussions have popped up as a result. I want to start by stating clearly here that I am drawing a line in the sand between atheism and the atheist community as a whole. Atheism in and of itself is just a simple statement that says you don't believe in a god(s)/ess(es). Some atheists watch football on Sundays, check none on the religious affiliation surveys, and that's about the limit of how deeply they connect with religion or debates about religion. Some live in countries where religious beliefs are the exception, not the rule, and the idea of seeking out an atheist community is somewhat bizarre to them.

When I talk about the atheist community, though, I'm specifically referring to the people who *do* want to connect with each other to raise awareness for social issues we care about. It's not okay when we're told we need to leave our distaste for the good old boy's club at the door. We want a way to say upfront that we demand to be treated with basic human dignity, and resent being told to be quiet when we speak up about that. Some of the responses I've seen are cautiously critical (see also: Emily Dietle's assessment), and raise concerns about creating an elitist club in response to white male privilege. Irony. It's a lovely thing.

If you want a social justice movement that focuses on embracing diversity without centering on a specific set of religious beliefs, it's called humanism. If that appeals to you, and you also don't believe in supernatural forces, then you have secular humanism. Humanism is a broad and well organized movement with a global presence that we can be a part of without having to come up with new labels.

The problem, of course, is that humanists in general are at best a bit embarrassed by the very vocal atheist contingent within its midst, and at worst outright hostile to us. (To be fair, this may be a reaction to being called delusional idiots because they aren't naturalists. More on that in a bit.) Also, humanism alone does little to address the problem laid out by Sam Harris:

"While moderation in religion may seem a reasonable position to stake out, in light of all that we have (and have not) learned about the universe, it offers no bulwark against religious extremism and religious violence." 

So, yes, the labels we use do matter. If we don't offer up that bulwark effectively by challenging directly the notion that any person can claim to know for certain that God exists, much less what he wants us to do in our bedrooms or what rewards await us after martyrdom, who will? Humanists? Possibly. But any population that includes believers in its midst is going to have to tread very lightly around these topics if they don't want their membership to turn elsewhere.

Which brings me directly to the other, much more glaring problem that I haven't seen addressed yet. The Atheist Movement struggles when it comes to following the "Don't Be a Dick" rule. (To be equally fair, this may be a direct result of being called immoral and dangerous to society by the same people who threaten our livelihoods and even our safety in certain parts of this country.) I'm not just referring to misogyny within the movement or racially insensitive billboards at this point, although these things are certainly the impetus for the new direction. I'm referring to the general tendency to focus so strongly on calling religion an irrational hangover from a past drenched in superstition that we aim far, far too wide. People who might otherwise be drawn to what we have to offer as a community or even as decent human beings who don't automatically assume that religious = not worth listening to are instantly struck by a sudden urge to wash their hair or watch Doctor Who instead.

Which leaves us exactly where when it comes to leading the fight against religious extremism and religious violence? Ah, yes, an echo chamber of maybe, at best 10% of the American population. Not all of whom vote. Lovely. That'll help. What good does it do to hold the intellectual high ground if we shut out the people who could be standing there with us on issues we care about? I remember seeing a lot of my religious friends reposting this sign back in April:

And you know what? It doesn't bother me in the slightest that they're religious. They get it. They've seen Fred Phelps and his gang, and they're pissed off, too. They understand that people can be good without god (progress!), and we should be working together to simply be kind, regardless of our religious beliefs or lack thereof. Atheism, plus the support of people who are fed up with messages of hatred and intolerance. Humanists, cafeteria Catholics, Buddhists, Pagans, Hindus, Muslims, Sikhs, Jews. Hell, even the occasional Young Earth Creationist can agree on that message. It doesn't mean we have to agree on anything having to do with religious doctrines, or argue about which invisible robes fit best on an unseen creator, or count the angels dancing on a pinhead. Those are debates that they can have within their own communities.

But these causes that we have in common? We are stronger united than we are divided.