Women and Law

The Price of Motherhood: Why the Most Important Job in the World is Still the Least Valued

tina — Tue, 01 Mar 2011 08:00:00 +0000

Like many of my generation, I am a child of divorce. I watched as my newly single mother struggled to work, find and pay for childcare, and afford lawyers that could compete with my father’s during endless days of court. I watched as we plummeted into poverty while my wealthy father’s lifestyle barely changed. I am the daughter of a woman who chose to sacrifice her career to raise me, and who was subsequently penalized by a system that encouraged her to do precisely that. As such, I am profoundly grateful for the tenth anniversary edition of The Price of Motherhood, a book where former New York Times reporter Ann Crittenden reminds us that despite the incessant rhetoric about “family values,” America has yet to put its money where its mouth is and motherhood is still dangerously undervalued.

Crittenden seeks to demonstrate that it is motherhood and not being female that is the primary source of women’s inequality. Mothering, she claims, is dismissed by American culture as something menial, and the housewife’s work is neither politically nor economically recognized as labor. Despite this; however, inflexible workplaces almost guarantee that women will have to cut back or quit their job when they have children, resulting in a “mommy tax” of approximately $1 million in lost income for an educated mother. Moreover, when women sacrifice their careers to raise children, their unpaid labor does not entitle them to the breadwinner’s income during marriage or after a divorce. Women often have to ask their husbands for money to cover basic expenses or they’re put on an allowance that is only a fraction of the husband’s income. During divorces, many states are reluctant to give women half the assets or the highest child support payment. They also rarely go after dads who refuse to pay even the smallest sums. It is because of all of these reasons that Crittenden argues that motherhood is the single biggest risk factor for poverty, and women—who have fought to earn respect for their work in the workplace—need to keep fighting to win respect for their work in the home.

By design, Crittenden’s book promotes an intersectional approach to examining the “price of motherhood,” utilizing gender analysis, the law, public policy, and economics. Each chapter features an in-depth analysis of one of the problems facing mothers and multiple sources, including personal stories of Crittenden’s life as a mother and interviews with other women. Crittenden’s decision to use such a wide variety of sources, coupled with the structure of the book, ultimately facilitates her argument that “the price of motherhood” is derived and perpetuated from multiple locations. The book’s conclusion features a list of concrete suggestions and policy changes that should be made to “bring children up without putting women down,” a list that could be helpful to a wide array of readers, from mothers and feminist organizations to politicians.

Crittenden chooses not to rely heavily on theory, possibly in an attempt to make her book accessible to a wider audience and to better showcase her breezy, witty writing. Unfortunately; however, a lack of theory allows her to ignore feminist theorists who fear a focus on motherhood produces the idea that women are “naturally” suited for the family. She never addresses theorists, such as Wendy Brown, who argue that women should be wary of relying on the state—a patriarchal institution—for protection, or who argue that welfare regimes only swap a woman’s dependency on a husband’s paycheck for a (patriarchal) government’s check. Indeed, Crittenden seems slightly wary of taking a position on the “naturalness” of women’s mothering, hinting at times that there is something innately caring in women. I also felt she stressed the importance of having a mother at home too much, which could lead to a backlash.

Overall, I think The Price of Motherhood is a tremendously important book. It is perfect for an introductory women’s studies class, or any economics, law, and public policy class with a feminist focus. It is also a book I think every woman should read. We’re told repeatedly that we can “have it all,” but The Price of Motherhood reminds us that mothers don’t have it all—yet.

Written by: Shannon Hill, March 1st 2011

Surviving the Witch-Hunt: Battle Notes from Portland’s 82nd Avenue, 2007-2010

admin — Thu, 19 Aug 2010 00:00:00 +0000

By Emi Koyama

Confluere Publications

Surviving the Witch-Hunt is collection of artifacts and commentary from 2007 to the present and catalogues the community forces that emerged after the City of Portland removed its controversial Prostitution Free Zones (PFZ). These zones had allowed the police to issue exclusion orders for those who had been arrested for sex work, even if they had never been charged. For ninety days, anyone arrested for prostitution in the designated area was not allowed to return without submitting an appeal, segregating public space and criminalizing behavior without actual legal indictment.

The uproar from community figures after the removal of the PFZs demonstrated the discriminatory sentiments of many of those living in the 82nd Avenue neighborhood. Those who opposed the end of the PFZs claimed that there was an increase in crime and a correlating decrease in their property value, and they united to fight the “problem” of sex work in their communities. Emi Koyama collected documents that demonstrate their anger toward sex workers and bolsters these artifacts with some social justice commentary, raising arguments that protect the rights of all women and advance a more holistic view of community development. This booklet uses the 82nd Avenue case study as an example of how multifaceted problems cannot be solved via law enforcement but through broader advances in social and economic justice.

Countering the arguments of outraged neighbors near 82nd Avenue, Koyama’s documents describe the harm PFZs do to women who work in the sex industry. The fliers in the collection address the underlying causes of sex work, and explain that improved access to housing, employment, and treatment services are a better response than criminalization. The documents also catalogue the efforts of anti-prostitution advocates who focus on educating men about the social dangers of purchasing sex. This was the most interesting part of the compilation to me, since many anti-prostitution feminists are pushing educational programs as a way to end sex work. Koyama’s work shows that decreasing the demand for sex work, while a seemingly laudable goal, actually harms women. Decreasing demand also reduces the price for services, so sex workers have to do more acts for less money, and it pushes sex work to more remote areas, causing potential dangers for workers. Also, johns who are rational regarding risk taking will be taken out of the pool, leaving a group of riskier men purchasing the services of sex workers. These men are more likely to act violently towards sex workers and are less likely to take safe precautions during sex.

As someone who recognizes that the problems associated with sex work have no simple solutions, I am thankful that Koyama lays out these rebuttals to anti-prostitution groups. Criminalizing and even reducing the amount of sex work will do little to address the more serious problems in our communities. Sadly, the deeply rooted social, racial, and gendered inequities that necessitate sex work too often go unnoticed by policymakers, concerned citizens, and others trying to improve their communities.

As a human rights lawyer, I am personally outraged at the discriminatory attitudes of too many in the 82nd Avenue community regarding the end of PFZs, and I am somewhat embarrassed that I had not known about these events before reading this collection. Many local stories of civil rights conflict, of discrimination, and of survival often don’t reach further than the affected community. By effectively curating a compilation of documents from the 82nd Avenue community, Koyama demonstrates the importance of capturing a historical moment in the trajectory towards justice. The fliers, newspaper articles, notices about community meetings, and email messages Koyama collected were probably designed to be temporary, but in this small archive they combine to tell a powerful story of the strength of community activism.

Written by: Andrea Gittleman, August 18th 2010

The Line

admin — Thu, 18 Feb 2010 17:01:00 +0000

Directed by Nancy Schwartzman

This documentary, which clocks in at just twenty-four minutes, will continue to haunt you long after it ends. The Line is Nancy Schwartzman’s wonderfully brave effort to interrogate the circumstances of a sexual assault she endured while living aboard. Because she is not a “perfect victim” (the incident happened after she willingly went home with a guy, as opposed to having been raped by a stranger), she soon finds that this leaves her no recourse in the eyes of law.

What’s more, Schwartzman’s sense of herself as a sex-positive feminist, an identity she had long embraced, was severely shaken. What becomes clear, however, is that it isn’t Nancy who has a problem: it’s the misogynist sexual rules of a culture that beckons a woman’s sexual confidence on the one hand and beats it into submission on the other that are really to blame. Images of bikini-clad twenty-somethings doing keg stands while a crowd of young men look on only make her point further (need I mention Jersey Shore?)

Rendered as a kind of visual personal essay, Schwartzman frames her story with a chorus of voices—family, friends, advocates, legal counsel—who, though sympathetic, cannot give her the answer she seeks: where is the line of consent in which a sexual encounter goes from wanted to unwanted? Schwartzman makes two important realizations on which the whole story of trying to understand the why and how of her date rape pivots: the line is as personal as it is real.

Empowered and motivated to own her line of consent and let her rapist know he crossed it, Schwartzman arranges a meeting with him and records their conversation in what is a truly staggering few minutes of film. The Line is not a film you merely watch and put back on the shelf. Schwartzman has made sure of that by using it as a platform from which to promote conversation, debate, and outreach about the constellation of sex, power, pleasure, and consent. As she says, “The Line is a film. The Line is a movement. The Line is up to you.”

Written by: Heather Brown, February 18th 2010

Dispatches from the Abortion Wars: The Cost of Fanaticism to Doctors, Patients, and the Rest of Us

admin — Wed, 17 Feb 2010 17:01:00 +0000

By Carole Joffe

Beacon Press

Maybe I’m wrong, but in my understanding of war, combatants will do whatever it takes to destroy the opposing side. And that’s not what has happened in the conflict over abortion. Instead, one side, the anti-abortionists—from the Army of God to the Lambs of Christ, from Operation Save America to The National Right to Life Committee—have organized a multitude of campaigns to stop what they call “the murder of innocents.” Diverse tactics, from the ballot box to the bullet, have been used.

The damage has been horrific: Eight people (half of them doctors) have been killed since 1993 and there have been 17 attempted murders, 175 arsons, and 41 bombings since 1977. In the first four months of 2009—before the assassination of Dr. George Tiller in Wichita, Kansas—the National Abortion Federation logged in 1411 harassing emails, phone calls, and letters; three bomb threats; five suspicious packages; 40 instances of trespassing; and 11 attacks by vandals.

Then there’s the legal stuff. Legislation has been passed in virtually every state to limit when abortion is permissible and require clinics to jump through a multitude of hoops to offer services. This has made the procedure hard to access, especially for women not living in or near major cities. Add in a constant barrage of ballot measures to outlaw the procedure or give personhood status to the fetus, and it’s not surprising that the antis have made inroads in getting people to question the efficacy of the procedure.

And providers? For their part clinicians have defended their turf, obtaining court orders to bar protesters from screaming in patient’s faces, installing state-of-the-art security devices, and working to pass legislation to protect reproductive freedom from further incursions. But war? Not even a skirmish. Instead, the lion’s share of clinicians have dedicated themselves to offering high quality medical care to women, not on retaliating against the anti’s for their belligerence and menace.

Indeed, not a single anti has been assassinated (yes, anti-abortion protester James Pouillion was killed in Michigan last September, but his murder was part of a shooting spree by a deranged gunman) or harmed by pro-choice forces. Crisis Pregnancy Centers (CPC) have not had their locks glued shut or been attacked with butyric acid. They have not received letters filled with white powder claiming to be Anthrax. CPC staff have not been followed and berated as “murderers” while buying milk. Their children have not been taunted in the schoolyard because of their parent’s vocation. So I take issue with Carole Joffe’s conception of the “abortion wars.” What we have, instead, is mono-dimensional, a one-way fight aided by religious dogmatists hellbent on imposing their worldview on women and families.

Despite this fundamental disagreement, Dispatches from the Abortion Wars is often riveting. Joffe’s insights into popular culture, alongside her analysis of the recent barrage of ballot initiatives, are spot on in explaining the growth of negative attitudes about abortion. As she notes, the continuous introduction of restrictive legislation reinforces the idea that the surgery is contentious. What’s more, when something is seen as controversial, people tend to back off, fearing schisms they’d rather avoid. “It is a fear of controversy, more than actual moral opposition, that mainly accounts for the stigmatizing situation of abortion today,” she concludes.

If that’s true, it’s time for pro-choice forces to take the offensive, not in war—we can’t descend to the anti’s level—but by defending abortion as the sound moral choice of more than one-third of U.S. women of reproductive age.

Written by: Eleanor J. Bader, February 17th 2010

Murder in the Name of Honor: The True Story of One Woman's Heroic Fight Against an Unbelievable Crime

admin — Sat, 23 Jan 2010 09:00:00 +0000

By Rana Husseini

Oneworld Publications

Rana Husseini is a journalist from Jordan, and in Murder in the Name of Honor, she writes of the aftermath and trauma of honor killings in Jordan and around the world that she has researched and witnessed. Honor killings are defined as the murder of a woman by a family member(s), usually a man or men, because the woman has in some way brought dishonor upon the family. Some of the examples of dishonor, and reasons for death, include rape, marrying without permission, leaving home, falling in love, or even the rumor of impropriety. In some countries, including her home country of Jordan, the punishment for the murderer is generally quite lenient, under five years in prison. While some believe that honor killings only take place in Jordan and neighboring countries, in fact, there is a disturbingly large number of killings that take place in the Western world, including America.

Husseini has become determined to shed light on honor killings and to change the laws that allow those who commit the killings such lenient punishments. The book traces her journey of reporting and researching the crimes throughout the world. It is filled with touching and terrifying anecdotes, along with the challenges of trying to change minds and laws. Many “tribal” customs and courts support the killings; a family’s honor, but most particularly a man’s honor, is to be held in the greatest esteem. In the cases of these murders, a man’s honor is worth more than a woman’s life. Women going to the police or authorities can face disbelief or they are simply returned to their families, and it is the families that are the women’s worst enemies in these cases.

Husseini also addresses the challenge faced by such a polarizing and politicized issue; it can be easy to stereotype and assume; however, she makes it clear that not all men and women from Jordan (including Jordanian royalty), or other countries where honor killings are prevalent, believe that murder is honorable. With the interviews that she conducted with some of the murderers, many stated remorse and regret over the actions, but most state that they had no choice. It was something that had to be done. The book illuminates the problem for the complex and convoluted issue that it is, and it offers no easy solutions because there are none. I would have liked to know more about what could be done by the “everyday” reader: writing politicians, etc., though at her website, there are links for more reading and some sites with calls to action.

Written by: Kristin Conard, January 23rd 2010

The Rights of Women: The Authoritative ACLU Guide to Women’s Rights

admin — Wed, 05 Aug 2009 17:33:00 +0000

By Lenora M. Lapidus, Emily J. Martin, Namita Luthra

New York University Press

The authors claim at the beginning of this book, “The law now can be used to advance women’s opportunities, rather than restricting them as it did in the past.” Yet for many of us (myself included), the law often seems like a daunting wall instead of a useful tool. The Rights of Women tries to mediate this feeling of intimidation by creating a guide that enables women to understand the law and, more importantly, use the law to advance gender equity.

As the book’s title implies, the authors have crafted an exhaustive outline of how women are (mis)treated under the law designed to be utilized by the average person. In a clear and concise fashion, the authors break down the legal underpinnings of trafficking, employment discrimination, housing rights, education, and reproductive rights, among other issues.

Though The Rights of Women is devoid of the legal terminology and complexities that make the law so inaccessible to many of us, the authors do not oversimplify or “dumb down” the material. Instead, the reader finds straightforward answers to the kinds of legal questions we have every day, written in a format that is easy to understand. Similarly, the question and answer format of the book lends itself to quick referencing for a project or just browsing through a particular chapter. This, coupled with the breadth of issues tackled, makes it a great resource for feminists of all ages, backgrounds, and passions. If, as the authors argue, a firm understanding of the law is necessary for feminists to be successful advocates and activists, then The Rights of Women should be on the bookshelf of every feminist. Whether you’re a professional looking for more information about the constitutional rights of women or an individual curious about how the law protects domestic violence survivors, The Rights of Women will serve as an indispensible guide.

Written by: Gwen Emmons, August 5th 2009

Women, Violence, and the Media Readings in Feminist Criminology

admin — Fri, 26 Jun 2009 17:11:00 +0000

Edited by Drew Humphries

Northeastern University Press

At times, much like a good teacher, this book had my full attention. At other times, I nodded off. When I was three-quarters the way through, I began to wonder why it sounded like one of my old college text books. When I finished the 279 pages and went back to the preface, which I had long forgotten, I learned why: it was written for college students. That explained it. Had I not had to review it, I might have put it back on the shelf with those other books from a decade or so ago.

It’s not to say Women, Violence, and the Media: Readings in Feminist Criminology was uninteresting. It seeks to describe how women and violence are framed in fictional and non-fictional accounts, which interests me a great deal. The editor, Drew Humphries, professor in the department of sociology, anthropology and criminal justice at Rutgers University, pretty much achieves her aims. It’s just that like most people, I’d prefer to read about TV shows I watch. So, for example, I would enjoy reading an analysis of Dateline or even America’s Most Wanted. Do they serve to enlighten or to frighten? Do they show more cases of male violence than female violence, or is it in proportion to actual crime rates? This would interest me. Instead, there are chapters about Law and Order and Prime Suspect, shows that are popular, but that I don’t personally watch.

Even though I don’t have cable, I did find it interesting that Lifetime does well at depicting crime. It can broaden our understanding of crime because it shows subsequent victimization (like when a rape victim goes to a hospital and faces judgemental behavior by medical staff), which other programs often fail to include. They also have a balanced creative team. Oxygen and Women’s Entertainment actually have more males than females directing, producing and writing. Sounds like false advertising to me!

I would also have loved to read more about victim blaming, but it was only touched upon. I am always shocked and disheartened by news accounts on interpersonal violence and the comments that are sure to follow them. The editor says that victim blaming gives men “an edge in the court of public opinion and frequently in criminal court as well.” I never thought of it that way, but it makes sense. In chapter one (“Words That Wound”), the writers say that victims get more support when their behavior follows gender norms (example: wives like Lacy Peterson), and that made sense, too.

The chapter that compared mass rapes in Yugoslavia to those in Rwanda was interesting. The authors quote a researcher who says women are viewed as “victimized women rather than as persecuted citizens.” They analyzed how the media framed the situations in both countries, noted the different terms and emotionally-charged words that were used and how human rights organizations even responded differently to both countries.

Another chapter focuses on mass murder in domestic context. Working in the field of domestic violence myself, the information on this issue confirmed what I had already knew about it (and then wondered, do reporters ever read books like these?), particularly in regard to the media reporting on “nice guys” that inexplicably “snap.”

Once I got through the book, I enjoyed going back over the highlighted parts, which succinctly provided me with information. Since the book has a lot of material to wade through, I would encourage reading this book for a college course, as intended. All in all, I give it a B-.

Written by: Joan Dawson, June 26th 2009

Women Writing Africa: The Northern Region

admin — Thu, 28 May 2009 09:03:00 +0000

Edited by Fatima Sadiqi, Amira Nowaira, Azza El Kholy, Mona Ennaji

The Feminist Press

Women Writing Africa: The Northern Region is the fourth in a series of volumes, following The Southern Region, The Eastern Region, and West Africa and the Sahel. It provides a thorough documentation of women's lives from the fifteenth century BCE to the present in nations from the nations of Algeria, Egypt, Mauretania, Morocco, Sudan, and Tunisia. Subjects addressed include cooking and colonialism, torts and torture, polygamy and the veil, love songs, and repeated calls for women's education. Forms in the anthology include prose, poetry, lyric, legal documents, petitions, folktales, and transcriptions of tellings by illiterates.

The poet I'timad Arrummaikiyya could be construed an eleventh century Lil' Kim—“I urge you to come faster than the wind to mount my breast and firmly dig and plough my body, and don't let go until you've flushed me thrice.”—and there are equally passionate protestations of faith from Christian and Islamic perspectives. Sara, daughter of Abboud Al-Nahid, filed for a no-fault divorce in 1069 due to “feelings of aversion for (her husband's) person”—a reassuring glimpse at the consistency of intimate dramas (no support, she takes custody of a five year-old son).

A general reader, I found the collection a varied and thorough introduction to the history of the area, my previous exposure having been restricted, unfortunately, to the Tutankhamen exhibit at Seattle's Art Museum in 1978 and the movie The Battle of Algiers. The necessity of education is a persistent theme—Nabaweya Moussa refers to the Egyptian proverb: “Teach girls to spin, but don't teach them to write.” Personal narratives include girls learning through eavesdropping on brothers' lessons, young women applying to school in secret and paying the tuition themselves, and illiterate mothers sneaking their daughters into academies (one girl goes on to earn a doctorate becomes a physicist). Faiza W. Shereen's previously unpublished short story “The Gifts of Time” spans decades and continents to narrate family and history. We can only hope that the call at the close of Mona Nawal Helmi's “From this Day Forward I Will Carry My Mother's Name” is right: “We've had enough futile, ineffectual babbling!”

Written by: Erika Mikkalo, May 28th 2009

Our Bodies, Our Crimes: The Policing of Women's Reproduction in America

admin — Fri, 13 Feb 2009 12:00:00 +0000

By Jeanne Flavin

NYU Press

I expected to write a strongly positive review for this book and am disappointed that I am unable to do so. The main strength of this book is its acknowledgment—in a single volume—of the many and layered aspects of women's reproductive health. Part of that acknowledgment includes a recognition (if generally tacit) of the impossibility of separating all white women from all women of color; of separating all economically advantaged women from all economically disadvantaged women, etc. Though not the first volume to explore the breadth of health and social justice issues that must be included in a robust definition of reproductive health, this volume situates itself uniquely within the sphere of criminal justice, and so sets itself apart from some of those other, earlier volumes.

That being said, those other, earlier volumes are better written. Although Flavin does an adequate job of recognizing discrepancies in treatment, the conclusions she draws may end up hurting her overall argument because of her faulty reasoning. I lost count of the number of times she employs slippery slope reasoning in an attempt to demonstrate to her reader the self-evident nature of her conclusions. Further, her position is unclear in ways that can be confusing to the reader. She deplores both the medicalization of abortion and its distance from mainstream medical practice—but what does she propose as a viable alternative?

Flavin does not have to convince many feminists and advocates of feminism that our concept of reproductive health is not nearly broad nor strong enough to be of great service to most women. Further, arguing that the criminal justice system in America doesn't help with that is not news to many of the same feminists (though her facts and stories are interesting). I worry that her non-feminist critics will throw out the baby with the bathwater of the poor argumentative abilities demonstrated in Our Bodies, Our Crimes.

Written by: kristina grob, February 13th 2009