American women

Buddhism Through American Women’s Eyes

brittany — Wed, 09 Feb 2011 08:00:00 +0000

Buddhism Through American Women’s Eyes, a collection of thirteen essays edited by Karma Lekshe Tsomo, offers an introspective exploration of Buddhist philosophy and practices. First published in 1995 and re-issued in 2010, these works are written by women who attended a California retreat in August 1989.

The last chapter of the book, “Continuing the Conversation,” discusses the diverse experience of this retreat: “There was a mix of women, some of whom had been practicing for ten, twenty, or thirty years, and some who were brand-new to meditation, providing both depth and freshness, tradition, and innovation.”

This information could have been placed at the start rather than the end of the book to add context. For example, a few essays are interspersed with “Response” sections where the writer interacts with questions or comments from other participants. Without knowledge of the retreat, these sections may disorient readers.

There is some context—the introduction, “Openings,” addresses the patriarchy found within several Buddhist traditions, particularly how the texts teach enlightenment for all beings, yet give preference to men as the true spiritual conduits and teachers. One noted exception is the Vajrayana tradition of Buddhism with its female figure of enlightenment, Tara. Not surprisingly, this empowering representation doesn’t often extend to “actual living traditions in Buddhist society.” Buddhism Through American Women’s Eyes proves that women’s interpretations can transform Buddhist practice.

“Forging a Kind Heart in an Age of Alienation” and “Reflections on Impermanence” explore reconciliation and grief—subject matters for any practitioner. Yet these works also show that meditative practice can be imbued by women’s experiences. One writer narrates her difficult relationship with a terminally ill father and her decision to be open and honest with him instead of falling into the habit of “play[ing] the co-dependent role of ‘Mary Sunshine.’ ”

In “Mothering and Meditation,” Jacqueline Mandell shares how when her twins are born, a friend shows up for a week to help with housework and take care of the children. This prompts Mandell to consider the concept of “mother care.” Her Buddhist friends ask whether she has time to meditate, but she invites a better question: “‘Now that you’re a mother, may I help you so that you can meditate?’” “Abortion: A Respectful Meeting Ground” relates Yvonne Rand’s grief after having an abortion. Eventually, the Buddhist precept of not doing harm to living beings is what motivates her anti-abortion stance. However, Rand stays resolutely pro-choice. What seems like a contradiction is Buddhism in action—it is not about judgment. “There is no easy or ‘right’ answer,” Rand concludes. Instead, Buddhism is about “the practice of awareness.”

Other practitioners consider the intersection of Buddhism with relationships and daily stress. Many of the essays expand on karma as well as the conflict between Buddhist traditions and American life. A collaborative work, “The Monastic Experience,” personalizes this conflict as several women discuss their study and practice of Buddhism in the East and West.

Readers may want to know how or if the situation has changed for Buddhist American women since 1995, so an updated foreword could have proved useful. There is an excellent glossary and suggestions for further reading, yet the philosophical discourse is leveled at experienced readers of Buddhism. The book is accessible, but this is no primer.

Buddhism Through American Women’s Eyes is at its best when it leaves behind the abstract language of philosophy and connects spiritual practices to everyday concerns. For readers interested in Buddhist women, this book provides a voice for new traditions.

Written by: Andrea Dulanto, February 9th 2011

No Permanent Waves: Recasting Histories of U.S. Feminism

admin — Wed, 12 May 2010 00:00:00 +0000

Edited by Nancy A. Hewitt

Rutgers University Press

As an undergraduate, my major was Women’s Studies, so I’ve read my fair share of feminist texts over the last several years. It’s hard to find one that offers a new perspective or, at least, a perspective different enough to satisfy both the expert and the novice. That said, I think No Permanent Waves does a good job of it by covering the fundamentals—women’s history, and issues of race, class, and sexuality—as well as topics like hip-hop feminism, religion, and sex work, which don’t generally make it to academic anthologies.

For example, the New York City tenant movement is something that I have very little knowledge of. This topic is something I encountered briefly in a couple of history courses and the occasional segment on television programs about New York City history. Certainly the role of women in this movement was even further from my mind, at least until I read the chapter by Roberta S. Gold about intergenerational feminism in the tenant movement. Although the piece centers on the tenant movement of the 1960s and 1970s, it does include some historical background information and lays a strong enough foundation to serve as context for New York City’s landscape in the 1980s and 1990s. I found it one of the most interesting chapters in the book, and one I didn’t expect in a feminist anthology.

Another thing I particularly enjoyed about the book is that, while it’s clear No Permanent Waves is more of an academic text than something like, say, Sisterhood, Interrupted, Full Frontal Feminism, or even Manifesta, the language is still very accessible. It’s possible that my reading of it is skewed because I’m used to academic texts that are dry, analytical, and dense, but I found that none of these words would accurately describe No Permanent Waves. Instead, most of the pieces in this book are easy to understand and follow, even as they delve into identity politics, intergenerational issues, women’s history, and so forth.

My one criticism of the book is that the chapters don’t flow very well. The book is divided into three sections: "Reframing Narratives/Reclaiming Histories," "Coming Together/Pulling Apart," and "Rethinking Agendas/Relocating Activism." While these titles generally reflect the pieces included in that section, they’re also very vague, and therefore, end up with a few pieces that could easily fit into a different section or that don’t adequately fit into any section. Part of feminism is the idea of rejecting labels and it’s difficult to categorize things that touch on so many cultures, philosophies, and moments in time, but it still seems a bit disjointed to go from reading about church women in the nineteenth century to President Kennedy’s Commission on Women.

I have to admit this is a small criticism about a great collection of writings. I learned much more from this work than I expected to, and enjoyed reading through No Permanent Waves more than any general feminist anthology I have read in some time. I could easily see this as the first volume in future anthologies, each looking at the role of women and feminists in various other movements and critical moments in time throughout history.

Written by: frau sally benz, May 11th 2010

American Catfight: Political Wisdom for Women and Other Thoughts Towards Feminine Statecraft in the 21st Century

admin — Wed, 17 Mar 2010 16:01:00 +0000

By Maryann Breschard

52 Women

The biggest obstacle to women, according to Maryann Breschard, is other women. In American Catfight, Breschard posits that even the best-intentioned feminists have, along the way, exploited and undermined other women in their mad dash to power.

Breschard identifies several types of women who prevent other women from succeeding: haters (those who disempower and disenfranchise women they believe are “wrong” or “bad”), perfectionists (women who write off anyone who does not fit their narrowly-defined model of the “right” woman), and femamentalists (women who believe feminism is a “big tent” theory that should advocate for a wide range of issues, including LGBT rights, the environment, and more). Breschard primarily uses anecdotal evidence to support her definitions and observations, bouncing from a rant about Martha Stewart on one page to a critique of the Human Rights Campaign the next.

She then pivots to another modern-day catfight among women in her critique of the wedding-industrial complex. Commenting that, “many women today are similarly fraught about their identity and their dreams when entering marriage,” she suggests that women put away issues of identity and concern for feminist politics upon getting married. This change in priorities—which she dubs femipause—creates divisions and downright hostility between married women and single women. This is a point where in-depth research or quantitative data would have helped flesh out Breschard’s writing and lend a sense of credibility to her work. Instead, Breschard’s anecdotal stories of friends who have gotten married and become disengaged from her social circle do little to build out the concept of femipause or position herself as an authority in her writing.

The book concludes by stating that women are “poised to govern” in the twenty-first century, and Breschard provides several recommendations for feminists looking to do so. Some—like her recommendation that feminists simplify and focus upon certain core elements of feminism—are littered throughout her book and should come as no surprise to the reader. Others—such as putting more women in governorships across the country—are legitimately insightful, but come out of left field.

Ultimately, American Catfight is marred by its inability to synthesize the various political theories, pop culture musings, and personal ramblings of the author into a piece of writing that informs and engages the reader.

Written by: Gwen Emmons, March 17th 2010

Dr. Mary Walker: An American Radical, 1832-1919

admin — Mon, 01 Mar 2010 17:01:00 +0000

By Sharon M. Harris

Rutgers University Press

Dr. Mary Walker: An American Radical, 1832-1919 is a plethora of facts, evidence, and tightly woven themes that are well-researched by Harris, yet the book isn’t boring or dry. I found it inspirational and enraging at the same time. Women of the past made it easier for women today by tirelessly battling for women’s rights (and for men who were not white property owners). Walker was a dutiful and energetic soldier. She served in the Union army during the civil war as a commissioned medical officer although she had to fight to get that official position.

Harris’ work reveals that Walker spent every waking moment living the fight for equality and justice for all. When other physicians slammed her for treating the working class (that were considered beneath male doctors), she kept on. Men and women alike ridiculed her for even believing she had the brains to be a registered physician, but she persevered.

Being a female activist back then was quite difficult. The suffragists, including Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton, were adept at bickering and jockeying for centre stage, and Walker was no exception. Gaining the right to vote in the U.S. (eighteen months after Walker’s death) has not erased these divisions among activists today. From personal experience, I can attest to being treated as invisible by many middle class activists because I’m a sole-supporting parent and working class.

As a radical, Walker could not walk down the street without being physically assaulted for not wearing feminine clothes. Bricks, food, and yells often greeted her as she carried on her way. Today, nobody throws bricks at me while walking out in public, but men still stop their cars to yell at me if they don’t like what I wear. After reading about Walker’s experiences, I took some comfort in knowing that while we have made progress since Walker’s time, we still have a long way to go before all men, women, and children are treated with the respect they are due.

Walker is an example of how we need to continue to fight to be given the same rights as the more privileged members of society. Harris presents Walker in a balanced light that made me want to keep reading until the final page. Maybe in a hundred years, women will not only be able to vote, but also get paid on par with men and walk down the street knowing they are safe.

Written by: Nicolette Westfall, March 1st 2010

Breadwinners: Working Women and Economic Independence 1865-1920

admin — Sun, 21 Feb 2010 17:01:00 +0000

By Lara Vapnek

University of Illinois Press

My take on wages parallels my elementary understanding of the laws of quantum mechanics versus those of Newtonian physics. Come the revolution, wages won’t be necessary; but now, different rules apply. With bills to pay, I want money. Earning one’s own money brings self-respect and a sense of independence. It beats charity or being a dependent in a family. Many of the working women profiled in Breadwinners certainly shared this opinion, as does the author herself.

This history, one in the Women in American History series, takes for its subject the large-scale entry of women into the workforce over the years 1865 to 1920. Between 1870 and 1890, the number of women working for wages, outside of agriculture, doubled. The period covered by Breadwinners was marked by industrialization and urbanization and encompassed the rise of unfettered capitalism and development of the women’s suffrage and union movements. The exploitation of workers under the industrial system, discrimination against women workers in jobs and wages, and society’s expectations of women all impinged on this “great transformation.” Lara Vapnek focuses on the working women of Boston, New York, and Chicago and tells their stories through very human profiles of the few working women who left a historical trace. Each chapter illustrates a step, or rather a facet, of this historical change.

My favorite working woman is Aurora Phelps, who had an idea called Garden Homesteads (think urban agriculture with a feminist twist). She wanted women, who had sacrificed much during the Civil War, to have their own plots near the city where they could obtain subsistence by selling produce—and also work in the cooperative laundry. The scheme didn’t really get off the ground; the state would not grant the women free land, though sixty acres were eventually purchased through subscriptions. It stands out because it allowed for ownership of the means of production, provided an alternative to the masculine option of “Westward Ho,” and worked against transformation of small-scale producers into the “free labor” commodity that was part of the capitalist revolution. In short, Phelps’s project would have made working for wages less necessary.

A recurrent theme is how native-born White women, and then immigrants, fled from domestic service. Middle class women complained that they could not get good help—and had to “settle” for African American maids and nurses. Because of racial discrimination, African American women were excluded from jobs as clerks, industrial workers, and waitresses. Women wanted defined working hours and their own lodgings—in short, independence. Blinded to their own defects as employers, and by their presumption that domestic labor was women’s work, middle class women didn’t understand this desire.

As state governments started to track labor statistics, domestic workers (and prostitutes) were arbitrarily not included as working women, the thinking being that “domestic labor” was woman’s "natural" sphere. This exclusion is echoed today in the continuing efforts of domestic workers to be included in labor legislation. Women, working in professions largely closed to them in the past, now need nannies to care for their children while they work.

Vapnek teases out the complications: the impetus to protect women from the brutalities of industrialization, the sexism of organized labor, the working class woman’s perspective on political rights, and ethical consumerism, and boycotts. She writes with directness about the class rifts that emerged in social movements and the difficulties of women workers trying to keep their own organizations from being hijacked by more affluent supporters who “know better.”

Sadly, this problem continues today. As demonstrated by the contributors to the anthology The Revolution Will Not Be Funded, no matter the arena or supposed intent, money shapes the agenda, rather than those impacted. I can’t wait until working people, not just their labor, are valued, and—I can dream—wages don’t mean so much.

Written by: Frances Chapman, February 21st 2010

Science on the Home Front: American Women Scientists in World War II

admin — Fri, 29 Jan 2010 01:00:00 +0000

By Jordynn Jack

University of Illinois Press

Science on the Home Front is an introduction to the lives and tasks of specific women scientists involved in the war effort, from Marie Curie to Margaret Mead. These women come from a variety of backgrounds and pursuits in science. A professor, Jack focuses on the fields of psychology, anthropology, physics and nutrition to elaborate on the women involved who played a specific role in the war. By delineating aspects of these scientists, the author demonstrates the subordination of the women who performed important roles in the war. The range of responsibility spans years and experiences. Jack's main objective in developing this book holds true to be a study of the rhetoric involved regarding feminist rhetoric as well as scientific rhetoric, and she argues that the culture of science is what held women back in their roles played in the war.

To appreciate this book, one must be willing to make time to read it; its academic sense assumes the reader is both interested in science and in the concept of rhetoric as it pertains to both the science field and the feminist field. As a book, Science on the Home Front requires a decent amount of science; however, the author takes the time to elaborate on definition and overall goal of her book. In her introduction, she clarifies each chapter for the reader; each chapter focuses on one or two female scientists in that specific field. To create an overall sense of that specific scientist in several ways, Jack examines studies of that scientist, tracks certain exchanges with superiors, details journal entries, and surmises what that scientist brought to the public through writings and other research. In presenting this information, Jack demonstrates an overall image of each scientist. Taking her research another step further, Jack discusses the rhetoric of each field, and places this into each chapter to prove her point that the regendering of science is clearly necessary for women in all fields of science.

Utterly straightforward, Science on the Home Front explores the rhetorical factors of subordination with a smattering of women who made a difference in the science world, specifically during WWII. Language remains a very large obstacle to women "getting ahead" in the sciences. Ongoing questions exist: How do we reorganize and strategize around the feminism in the sciences as well as the gender of scientific language? By investigating the rhetoric about women in science, we come up with some answers; in conclusion, Jack makes steps toward "'regendering' scientific institutions" to make these scientific institutions more acceptable toward women, and overall, in any scientific field. Including notes on each chapter and over ten pages of bibliography, Jack gives a nice amount of substance to further research. Present and future studies must continue in order to make a concrete step toward the integration of women into the sciences at a more equal pace.

With this book in hand, further research may be done to pursue individual female scientists' work; however, this volume offers a great starting point to introduce the many women who impacted World War II in the scientific field.

Written by: Carolyn Espe, January 28th 2010

Jesus Girls: True Tales of Growing Up Female and Evangelical

admin — Fri, 01 Jan 2010 17:01:00 +0000

Edited by Hannah Faith Notess

Cascade Books

Jesus Girls is a truly beautiful array of humbling feelings and bittersweet experiences, from fears of generational sin to tales of exchanging the pants off your own body with those from a hitchhiker. Divided into sections—community, worship, education, gender and sex, and story and identity—many of the stories were first printed in publications like Geez Magazine. To be clear, the writers are both reformed Christians and current believers.

Trained to tell the story of one’s life as personal “testimony,” editor Hannah Faith Notess instead describes her “un-testimony”—a reverse conversion of sorts, though admittedly usually a less linear, much more complicated, character-filled than a come-to-Jesus testament of personal awakening. Notess explains that whereas Jesus and your sinning self are the primary roles in evangelical conversion narratives, experiences of conversation—in either direction—never happen in a vacuum and are often heavily influenced by our own church communities.

Notess also made a special point to emphasize women’s voices in this collection. “Even in evangelical circles that approve of women’s leadership, it seems, too often women are only called upon to speak on ‘women’s issues,’” she explains. She also points out that in many evangelical traditions, women are taught to be silence in church congregations, even while their testimonies are often just as—if not more—powerful than men’s stories of conversation and salvation.

The collection is based largely on stories of North American evangelism, and while many types of evangelical congregations are not included, that is hardly a weakness of this book. Some of the stories are more interesting or personally relevant than others, and some—like Anastasia McAteer’s “Exorcizing the Spirit” or an essay about swimming lessons—are admittedly startling amidst tales of DC Talk CDs, test-run mission trips to India, and those stiff paper candle skirts that catch candle wax. Perhaps because accounts relating to gift subscriptions to Brio magazine and Jack Chick comics so excite me, a few of the more serious accounts failed to seize me altogether.

Several of the accounts feature women under ten regularly choosing to accept Jesus into their hearts or experience voluntary baptism. As someone who did both of these things during the same developmental periods of my life, these stories were comforting in the normalcy. There are also stories of a different kind of acceptance, like protestant Angie Romines’ desire to be in her story’s namesake, the “Catholic club,” or Kirsten Cruzen’s story of surviving life as a child of missionaries—“a missionary kid, an MK.”

Most comforting for an agnostic such as myself—if also most disturbing—are stories of early confusion, like Shari MacDonald Strong’s account of her inability to grasp women’s supposed original sin at only five years of age. Despite her love of greater knowledge and the Bookmobile, by her teen years, she has been effectively desexualized and demoralized by her church. Later, codependent and abusive relationships stem from so little self-esteem, personal empowerment, and knowledge of the opposite sex. No doubt many feminists who grew up in a church—myself among them—have had to navigate similar quandaries.

Some essays offer engaging, seemingly unintentional contrast as well. Stephanie Trombari details her battles with mental illness that led her to Toronto Airport Christian Fellowship, a “tent revival meets United Nations” faith healing community. And in Carla-Elaine Johnson’s “Family Time,” nurse-type attendants standing around the sanctuary to take care of anyone who “fell out” during rhythmic “stomping.” Depending on whom you believe, faith will either make you collapse or find true healing in concepts like “emotional health gospel.”

One writer tells of having an abortion at nineteen, a devastating event that nevertheless made her move “from pro-life or pro-forgiveness.” After living through myriad scandals including adultery, suicide, and her church splitting in two, unable to choose one of two pastors, Paula Carter writes, “I worry that people who grow up in the church learn to deny their own humanity.” It became clear to her that the church people were simply unable to live up to their own standards. With a bittersweet sentiment that made me laugh out loud, Carter wrote, “It is hard for me even now to reconcile the expectations of church and the reality of being alive.”

From the very real experience of being called to ordination to the confusions of the trappings of faith—as in, the belief that the right music and the right books will yield a saved self—Jesus Girls is a joyous, if sometimes harrowing, exploration of what it means to grow up female, evangelical—and sometimes, even feminist.

Written by: Brittany Shoot, January 1st 2010

The Sand Castle

admin — Sat, 19 Dec 2009 09:00:00 +0000

By Rita Mae Brown

Grove Press

Sometimes, you can judge a book by it’s cover. In this case, the front cover of the book in question depicts two women in bathing caps and red lipstick and resembles a scene from an Esther Williams movie. The opening paragraphs of Rita Mae Brown’s The Sand Castle establish a short story encompassing a memorable day at the beach, as recalled through the eyes of seven-year-old Nickel Smith, a child with a sharp eye and ear attuned to the events and conversations taking place in the adult world surrounding her.

Nickel, her cousin Leroy, her Aunt Louise and her mother have made a day trip to the beach to lift their spirits after the recent loss of Leroy’s mother (and Louise’s daughter), Ginny. Nickel is attentively listening to her mother and Aunt’s conversation as they navigate their way to the beach in the “new black Nash with the dull gray interior.”

In the tale, Brown relies heavily on period specific dialogue and detail to establish the setting and characters in her story. The Hunsenmeirs are glamorous, independent, bickering but loving Chesterfield-smoking sisters. Julia, Nickel’s mother, is the sassy younger sister, provocatively cursing, mocking and otherwise provoking Louise. Louise, the dour older sibling, has sought solace in religion since her daughter’s death, taking all opportunities to quote scripture to her family.

Throughout the story, the author relies on telling over showing, employing long passages of overdrawn script-like dialogue between the sisters to fill out the narrative. Observations about the main characters and the larger family dynamics are relayed to the reader from Nickel’s point of view, which is far too astute and complete for a young child, even a precocious one. Passages such as “Mother, sidestepping the bait for a fight dangled by her older sister-just how much older also a ripe subject for contention,” render the tale more trite than heartwarming.

Allow me to conclude by employing another well worn phrase or cliché: Just because you can doesn’t mean you should. Brown’s account of a family affected by grief made me ask “So what?” at the story’s end. I do not believe angst is more worthy of literary attention than happiness or humour. While the light tone itself makes this work distinctive, due to the pedestrian pace of the story, lack of revelation, or change in any of the characters, the work is only the sum of its parts. This brief read merits borrowing from the library for reading on your own beach holiday.

Written by: Ruth Cameron, December 19th 2009

Women Who Kill

admin — Sun, 08 Nov 2009 01:06:00 +0000

By Ann Jones

The Feminist Press

Let me first just throw the creepiness right out there and admit I am a big fan of all media coverage related to serial killers. I love the horrible shows like Cold Case Files, and I love the even crappier rushed books written about every case. So when I saw Women Who Kill, I immediately zoomed in and claimed it.

I originally expected it to rely heavily on Aileen Wuornos, maybe some of the Manson girls, or even the women involved in couple-assisted murders, like Karla Homolka. I was expecting a similar sensationalized retelling of widely known to fairly well known cases, but what I got instead was an amazing surprise. Author Ann Jones doesn’t bore you with any of these tired old cases; in fact she rarely goes too deep into any individual case at all.

Women Who Kill marries the relationship between why and how women have killed during America’s history with the social problems of each time period behind them. This is a fascinating book for history buffs, sociologists, feminists, crime buffs—essentially, everyone. It’s so easy to write off a murderer as just being “crazy,” so I loved how this book went further to show that many of the female murderers throughout history actually had very rational reasoning behind their crimes brought on by their social position.

The book does not focus on any one criminal, but is divided rather loosely into crimes and time periods. The first type of murder brought up is that of women murdering their own children. Murdering your child is never a justifiable offense, but when Jones examines the American culture of the late 1600s and early 1700s to views on women, sexuality, and rape, the crimes become easier to understand.

The last type of murder covered is that of battered women retaliating against their batterers, from the late 1970s to the present. This was one of the more infuriating chapters, as it was closer to my lifetime. Jones never excuses any woman’s crime, but simply lays out each case on a carefully planned timeline of women’s social progress throughout the ages. All of the accounts are still extremely sad. And while this was a fascinating read that I could not put down, Women Who Kill left me feeling incredibly depressed and frustrated with how little progress it seems society really has made.

Between the language, euphemisms, and attitudes still in use—such as using seduction for the term rape in the 1600s, to the present favorite usage of had sex with, to the overall concept of how women still receive harsher sentencing for similar crimes committed by men—I didn’t feel our culture is much closer to equality, as I did before reading. Jones does a truly terrific job in presenting a morbid subject in an extremely interesting way, but I was left wishing for was some sort of guidance in what I could do personally to change things.

I don’t fault Jones for this though, as I doubt she has any idea herself. While it’s a wonderful book, the subject matter can be a little heavy to take in all at once. Surprisingly, Women Who Kill is not so much light beach fare (no ready-made for E! TV or movie sensationalism here) as it is a fresh insight to a little realized and ongoing problem.

Written by: Jen Klee, November 7th 2009