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Airborne Dreams: "Nisei" Stewardesses and Pan American World Airways

mandy — Wed, 06 Apr 2011 08:00:00 +0000

Pan American World Airways was not simply an airline in the way that we understand airlines today. It was an icon, a gateway, and enjoyed (and still enjoys) a cult-like following. In this fascinating look into the Nisei stewardesses of Pan Am, Yano explores the postwar ideology of the airline and its relation to the experience of the Nisei stewardesses.

Some might say it was risky or odd for Pan Am to hire Nisei (second generation Japanese Americans) stewardesses post-World War II. Yano reveals this purposeful decision for what it was: a calculated marketing move to promote a sense of worldliness and add a dash of exoticism on their flights. The Nisei stewardesses were held to a strict standard of appearance and behavior. On top of this, they were supposed to speak Japanese, though many did not. In fact, many were not even Japanese American! Yet they still served the general purpose of Pan Am, which was to make the foreign more approachable.

Despite the sophisticated front that Pan Am provided, many of the Nisei stewardesses were from humble backgrounds. Most had never traveled far, and many had never even worked alongside Caucasians, as they were raised in ethnic enclaves. What began as a carefully cultivated image of class and refinement became reality through the stewardesses’ experiences. They learned from their first class passengers and the luxuries afforded to them during their travels.

This is not to say that working for Pan Am was always peachy. As expected, many of the stewardesses were subjected to racist stereotypes of East Asian women and objectified as exotic eye candy. Some were treated like servants, and nearly all of the women complained of the regulation girdles and the impromptu girdle checks that accompanied them.

Through the ups and downs of their Pan Am careers, the Nikei stewardesses were exposed to experiences outside of the realm of possibility back in their hometowns. This, in turn, helped shape their identities in a way that also helped Pan Am achieve its desired image. This is to say that Pan Am hired these women with hopes of demonstrating their sophistication and worldliness. The women, in turn, became more sophisticated and worldly through the opportunities that Pan Am provided.

Yano’s exploration of Pan Am’s Nisei stewardesses reveals a story of a people, a time, a dream, and the motivation that made it all come together. Airborne Dreams is a nostalgia-filled trip through the glamorous airs flown by Pan Am, and also provides an intelligent look into the corporate and sociocultural factors at play during this time.

Written by: Shana Mattson, April 6th 2011

The Book Bindery

gwen — Wed, 30 Mar 2011 08:00:00 +0000

By Sarah Royal

Microcosm Publishing

I just read a wonderful interview with the great poet Martin Espada, in which he talks about the beauty found in writing on all kinds of subjects. Espada himself has worked as a bouncer, a gas station attendant, and everything in between. His words immediately rang in my mind as I sat and devoured Sarah Royal's anecdotes on working in an actual book bindery in an industrial section of Chicago. Her descriptions about the place itself are fascinating—full of dust, ink, large copiers, and smells reeking from all areas of the work environment. I could immediately imagine what it was like to work there, based on Royal’s vivid details. Royal also describes the surrounding areas of the book bindery—where the piles of detritus can create a sweet altar of art on the book bindery's windowsill, where a naked man parks in the back lot and lives for a few days, and where the neighbors run an auto shop that never seems to fix any cars. The stories range from hilarious to a quirky kind of sad and feature fascinating characters—the large dysfunctional family that works at the book bindery and everyone Royal meets through her lengthy commute to her job—as well as a location that seems like a character in and of itself. There's the boss in drag and his brother, who are former alcoholics; a mix of folks who have hooked up with each other, used to be married, have kids together, or are somehow related; and the infamous crazy girl that sits on the bus with Royal as often as she can and tries to break down the mysteries of life with her.

I relate to her mindless drinking of the sludge they call coffee at the bindery and bitching about the bosses in everyday banter with the other employees. I relate to using arts and crafts projects and other creative pursuits to break up the monotony of a job. I used to work at Wawa (for anyone that doesn't live in the northeast U.S., it's a big chain convenience store) and would create all kinds of songs and beats while slicing huge slabs of pink meat behind the deli. I would entertain all the other Wawa employees with imaginary stories and daydreams while filling the walk-in cooler. I think a good deal of folks can relate to this kind of behavior while working the drudgery of their daily job. And that's why these little stories are so satisfying. They're real slices of life, and as poet Espada says, "It's easy to write about the working class in the abstract, but that impulse tends to produce bad poetry. It's very different to write about working class people in terms of the work they do."

Written by: Maleka Fruean, March 30th 2011

Women Count: A Guide to Changing the World

mandy — Fri, 10 Sep 2010 10:00:00 +0000

By Susan Bulkeley Butler, Bob Keefe

Purdue University Press

As a single mom with two jobs and an interest in finding space for volunteerism and activism, I immediately connected with Susan Bulkeley Butler’s interconnected main points—that the ways we “count” women don’t always count, and that women need to take control of the ways in which they “count” on personal and political levels.

Women Count is divided into four sections: “The New Math,” “The Pioneers,” “Change is Happening,” and “Now It’s Your Turn.” Underscoring each of these sections is a fundamental belief in women’s ability to change the world by taking charge of their own educational, organizational, professional, community-based, and volunteering opportunities. In each section, Butler peppers her succinct chapters with statistics, facts, and affirmative messages; she gives women a sense that they possess unique skills and potentials that, if correctly accessed and valued, might revolutionize the world.

At points, her message becomes bogged down in gender essentialism and binary thinking. I do not entirely believe that women are innately “better communicators, better listeners, and better consensus-builders” than men, and I certainly feel like some of Butler’s points invoke a feminotopia that remains at odds with corporate structures. She discusses female mentoring at great length, and while I have experienced this in academic settings—especially from my dissertation director, who was also active in the Women’s Studies program—I have also noticed that professional women can be as cut-throat, competitive, and monovocal as many professional men. Although women do continue to face issues in the work place that men do not, Butler focuses on highly subjective mental features of gender difference (e.g., women are nicer and more patient) than on biological features (e.g., women might thrive if Fortune 500 companies all provided discrete, comfortable rooms for breast pumps and on-site childcare facilities).

Despite some theoretical differences, though, Butler’s book gave me insight into the invisibility of women in received narratives of history. I was shocked that Eli Whitney didn’t invent the cotton gin. Catherine Littlefield Greene did, but she let the young inventor take credit for it since women couldn’t receive patents for ideas and inventions in 1793. She also showcases the oscillating relationship between women, war, and work at several key moments in the book, and she notices the ironies enfolded in the fact that feminists (so often identified with peace) gained agency because of war, for example as part of the “Woman’s Land Army” or farmerettes of World War I.

Butler spotlights the accomplishments of historical women, of recent politically successful women in the United States (including both Hillary Clinton and Sarah Palin), of female entrepreneurs and businesswomen, and of young girls aspiring toward political ambitions. In her final section, she weaves the inspiring messages her readers could garner from the examples of women from ancient times to the present into a message of hope and, more importantly, manageable action. As soon as I finish making dinner for my daughter and myself, I’ll answer her parting question (“What is the change I want to affect in the world over the next three to five years?”) and write out her steps to success. But like many of the women depicted in Women Count, I still need to spend an hour in the kitchen first.

Written by: Emily Bowles, September 10th 2010

The Next Generation of Women Leaders: What You Need to Lead but Won’t Learn in Business School

admin — Sat, 29 May 2010 16:02:00 +0000

By Selena Rezvani

Praeger

Has the glass ceiling been shattered? There is a widely accepted perception that it has. However, as author Selena Rezvani points out in chapter one of The Next Generation of Women Leaders, although women make up 46.5 percent of the U.S. workforce, they constitute only 15.7 percent of corporate officers. What you won’t learn in business school, which Rezvani discovered from interviewing top women executives, is that social, economic, psychological, and even generational barriers still prevent women from reaching the top. But don’t despair. This book is chock full of highly useful tips and information to help women of all ages creatively circumnavigate these roadblocks and negotiate their way to the top.

A John Hopkins University MBA graduate and successful consultant, Rezvani conducted thirty interviews with top women executives in the corporate, non-profit and government sectors. She then analyzed her data for trends. The overarching themes of her analysis are covered in chapters two through nine, and address everything from career orientation to maneuvering office politics, networking and negotiating. Although this may sound like any other book on how to succeed in business, it contains plenty of information that might otherwise take you your entire career to learn. In fact, The Next Generation of Women Leaders reads more like a handbook that you will go back to at different stages in your career.

There is an emphasis in this book on networking, which many of us are tired of hearing about. However, Rezvani’s presentation is empowering. She describes networking as a lifetime activity that helps women forge lasting relationships, learn more about their areas of business, discover other career paths and develop outside interests and skills. She also emphasizes the importance of women’s networks and having women as role models. The author includes some helpful tips on networking etiquette and where to focus your energy.

Given my own particular situation as a mother and professional, I was interested in the chapter on work-life integration. The author tackles the “You can have it all” message that women have bought into and addresses the underlying societal pressures on women to be the successful executive, the cookie-baking mother, the physically fit and attractive partner, the friend, the crafter, the daughter, etc. Rather than attempting to balance, or juggle work-life demands, we are instead to integrate a select few work-life priorities that give us the most satisfaction. In a nutshell, the “you can have it all” message does little more than hold us back.

The author originally wrote this book because of the dearth of business books targeting Gen X and Y women, but there’s something in this book for women of all ages, especially those trying to rejoin the labor force or attract talent to their companies. I usually give away the books I review, but this one is now on my bookshelf.

Written by: Heather Leighton, May 29th 2010

The Artist in the Office: How to Creatively Survive and Thrive Seven Days a Week

admin — Wed, 31 Mar 2010 16:01:00 +0000

By Summer Pierre

Perigee

I was looking forward to reviewing The Artist in the Office because it seemed so relevant to the situation many people I know find themselves in, myself included. Making it as an artist these days is tricky, and without a patron to support them, most emerging artists need another job to make ends meet.

In this book, Summer Pierre hits many of the emotional highs and lows people in my position feel: guilt because they’re not doing art full-time, frustration that they are unable to be creative at work, suffocation at the restraints of a nine-to-five schedule, and the constant nagging question of what your “real job” is. An artist herself, Pierre demonstrates noticeable insight in to the day-to-day life of the average creative worker.

There’s a lot to be talked about on this topic and no easy answers. This book never tries to solve the “problem” of how to be an artist in the office, which is for the best because there’s no magic solution that will resolve this anxiety. What Pierre does suggest is a change in approach. The most solid advice I took away from this book was to remain positive and keep focused on the specifics of what you really want. I know from experience that it’s easy to get stuck in the “If I only had xyz than I would be happy” mindset, which gets you nowhere. Pierre reminds us that working in an office—having a “day job”—while being an artist is hardly the end of the world, and in fact can often benefit your creative work.

Unfortunately, when these benefits are discussed in detail, the book tends to lose some of its insightful commentary and switches to somewhat condescending advice and cutesy pictures to get the point across. Most artists who work in an office hardly need a full-page illustration telling them how the company photocopier can be useful for... photocopying. Or how work computers can be used for non-work stuff. Surely most of us know these things already? The book also could have done without the handwritten doodling of things to do on your lunch hour or how to play “bingo” on your morning commute.

This book is at its strongest when the author seriously engages with the question of what it means to be an artist in a culture that doesn’t necessarily value art. Part four of the book, “Ideas for Change,” is the strongest section. It reads like a heartfelt conversation with a friend who in the end convinces you to not be so hard on yourself and reminds you that you have to value yourself before anyone else will.

Written by: Jennifer Burgess, March 31st 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

Variety

admin — Sun, 21 Feb 2010 09:00:00 +0000

Directed by Bette Gordon

Kino International

Christine is desperately seeking employment. She doesn’t want to leave New York City and return to Michigan to teach, and doesn’t feel confident that her writing will bring in sufficient income. Although Christine’s story is happening in 1983, the same story could be told as a result of today’s recession. What do you do when you can’t find a job in your field? Well, you branch out and find the first job available.

It turns out that the first available job is as a ticket holder in a box office at an adult theater in Times Square. A few days after she begins the job, Christine meets her boyfriend Mark at a diner for lunch. He is a reporter focused on finding the connection between an organized crime group and the fisherman’s union. Christine listens politely to the details of his investigation and then reveals her new job to him.

Excitedly, she begins to describe the atmosphere of the Variety theater. Her clients are lonely and depressed, for the most part, but some are business men. She assures Mark that she never works alone. She works with the ticket holder, Jose, a vividly entertaining Luis Guzman. The theater smells of Lysol, and a lot of the chairs are broken. Christine is taken by surprise when Mark abruptly states that he has to leave, and that he will call her.

Most of the human interaction in Variety happen in this manner. One person is talking, one is listening. One person is being watched, the other is watching. Half of what we learn about Christine is relayed through answering machine messages. Relationships don’t appear to be reciprocal, and Christine’s actions don’t appear to be guided by a goal or even a particular interest. While Christine becomes interested in adult film and literature throughout the course of the film, it is unclear whether this interest is a result of an already existing curiosity she held, or if she is simply becoming more knowledgeable about her new line of work.

Variety offers thought provoking material for a feminist. Are relationships ever reciprocal, or equal? Are women empowered or degraded (or both) by working in the adult industry? The film introduces situations that allow for questions like these to be discussed. It adds to the discourse on women’s sexuality and a subculture that is geared towards the desires of a heterosexual, male population.

A part of the storyline that frustrated me involved Christine and Mark’s relationship. He is clearly unhappy about her choice of work. The two date throughout the movie, although the frequency of these dates decrease as the movie progresses. During their time together, Christine recites the plots of the latest films that have played at the Variety. The content is always explicit, and while she recites the events with fervor, Mark either ignores her or listens with an aura of quiet anger. It seems as though Christine is attempting to prove to Mark that she is enamored with her new career, but be is not convinced. I’m not either.

Written by: Rachel Muzika Scheib, February 21st 2010

Live Wire: Women and Brotherhood in the Electrical Industry

admin — Sun, 31 Jan 2010 01:00:00 +0000

By Francine A. Moccio

Temple University Press

Live Wire provides a full and exhaustively detailed history of the presence of women in the construction electrical trade, discussing and illustrating the enormous challenges that female electricians still face. By also discussing the mechanisms and impact of the Civil Rights struggle of the 1970s on the racial integration of the electrical industry, Moccio highlights the elements unique to the integration (or lack thereof) of women in that field. The book is capped by some theories on how more effective recruitment and retention of female electricians could be attained.

Skilled trades lack a certain societal transparency that other, more white-collar careers have; I suggest that most people could guess off the top of their heads roughly how one goes about becoming a doctor or a lawyer, but have no idea what the training and job description of an electrician or pipe fitter might look like. A good measure of the fascination of this book flows from the sheer novelty of the subject matter, which is due largely to the structure and traditions of the various unions associated with the electrical industry. Moccio deftly peels back the layers of history one by one, so that the reader is left with a solid grasp of the entire industry, its unions, and how they have evolved together, while still highlighting the thread of female experience throughout.

I would have preferred a much more in-depth exploration of specific ways to open doors for women with the industry than only the two final pages, but perhaps that may be outside the intended scope of this particular work. Although Moccio does indeed attempt to describe the basis of male electricians' overwhelmingly negative reactions to the entrance of women in the trade, her solutions don't seem to address those issues specifically. This leaves me wondering if any resolution can succeed that doesn't directly counter the underlying reasons why women are perceived as threatening to the industry's very existence.

Do not let the jazzy cover art fool you—this book is first and foremost a labor studies textbook, and it reads like one. Except for the short and uncomfortably pompous “Personal Background” section of the “Introduction,” Moccio's writing is very dense yet clear and illuminating. This is no relaxing beach or bedside read; the reader must do the work of paying close attention and assimilating all the complex networks, associations, and histories carefully laid out by the author. Your reward is a competent and empowering understanding of the struggles of women in a field that would rather you remain ignorant.

Written by: Kirsten Cook, January 30th 2010

Working Virtue: Virtue Ethics and Contemporary Moral Problems

admin — Fri, 01 Jan 2010 09:00:00 +0000

Edited by Rebecca L. Walker, Philip J. Ivanhoe

Oxford University Press

Working Virtue: Virtue Ethics and Contemporary Moral Problems is a book outlining how virtues can be included in modern ethical analysis. There are multiple ways to apply virtue ethics, or, as the authors like to say, to put virtue ethics "to work." Illustrating the variations are thirteen different authors giving detailed accounts of virtue ethics at work inside schools, hospitals, courtrooms and boardrooms. The chapters test the theory as it relates to war, race, affluence, and the environment. Also important to note is the delineation they make between ethics for personal use and ethics for professionals working in specific fields.

Readers can digest the book in parts or as a whole. The former is ideal for a person interested in methodological instruction, say a doctor looking to include ethical reasoning in their daily encounters with patients. In fact there are several chapters that would prove enlightening if not instructional in the daily routines of heath caregivers. On the other hand, a person will benefit from the book as a whole if they are interested in the revival of virtue ethics as a growing body of theory. For someone with this kind of academic pursuit, Working Virtue offers a thorough and diverse overview of contemporary issues and their need to be understood from an ethical perspective. Nevertheless, this book is of relevant interest to anyone seeking a broader perspective on the universal plight of moral wrangling.

As a philosophical subset, morality is predominantly rooted in three theories. Virtue ethics is one, along with deontology (emphasis on duty and rules) and consequentialism (emphasis on utilitarianism). Generally speaking, the focus of virtue theory is on the human character: if you live with a consistent disposition to behave appropriately, and if your actions reflect this disposition, then you are generally living a good and moral life. The variety of this book's interdisciplinary approach does much to illustrate the difficulty in compartmentalizing these theories from one another, especially when trying to isolate their worldly applications.

Its utility is evident after the thirty-page introduction, in which the editors offer thoughtful analysis of each of the chapters within. They also spend time to qualify and explain the theory's major conflicts and historical predication. While it is unlikely that every topic will resonate to every reader, it is of great importance to see how each falls technically within virtue ethics. From the many authors that make up Working Virtue comes a wealth of knowledge that can help a generation of professional people who seek to be informed by ethical theory and guided by ethical principle.

Written by: Katy Pine, January 1st 2010

Clear Leadership: Sustaining Real Collaboration and Partnership at Work, Revised Edition

admin — Wed, 26 Aug 2009 23:33:00 +0000

By Gervase R. Bushe

Davies-Black Publishing

I was pleased to find that a book devoted to helping people to communicate effectively and clearly was written very, very clearly. It was not pedantic or condescending; in it, the author seems to genuinely respect his audience. Refreshingly, the case studies and examples offered actually helped to illuminate the point and structure of the book—how rarely that happens!

Bushe identifies "interpersonal mush" as a key source of stagnation, frustration, and lack of direction and success in companies and organizations, and claims that people who contribute to producing this "mush" are unable to be effective leaders. By "mush," Bushe means the sedimented, collaborative misunderstandings, unfounded beliefs, unidentified fears and unarticulated desires that put people at cross-purposes. This "mush" both produces and is produced by a disintegration of communication and makes real collaboration nearly impossible.

When partners and colleagues are unclear about the distinction between thoughts, observations and feelings, they are unable to effectively communicate anything about these things. By inviting readers to reexamine these distinctions and to regain clarity about their own feelings, emotions, and judgments, Bushe positions his reader (and those who attend his seminars) to be able to clearly communicate these things in ways that are simple and effective.

Although this book (and his seminars) is largely targeted to organizations and businesses, many people could gain much from the exercises and explanations Bushe offers here. Intimate personal relationships, familial relationships, and friendships can all suffer from the stagnation and lack of deep understanding that can result when one or more parties stops actively paying attention to others, assuming that those with whom she is in relationship remain the same over time. It is easy to forget to seek out and appreciate the dynamism of our loved ones. Clarity about our own role in producing judgments and opinions as well as about the elements of experience can help to gently break down harmful patterns of relationship-momentum.

I can't speak much to the effectiveness of the exercises offered at the end of the four chapters devoted to the four aspects of the self that Bushe aims to help develop, as I did not do them. Some of them felt so very intimate for exercises meant to be done with a colleague or friend, but perhaps that might be because I am so used to varying levels of unclarity and mush that clarity feels almost uncomfortable.

Written by: kristina grob, August 26th 2009

AsiaPacifiQueer: Rethinking Genders and Sexualities

admin — Thu, 19 Feb 2009 11:53:00 +0000

By Fran Martin, Peter A. Jackson, Mark McLelland, Audrey Yue

University of Illinois Press

Aside from a women’s studies class I took as an undergraduate, of which I remember very little, thoughts on gender and sexuality typically have not taken up much of my time. AsiaPacifiQueer: Rethinking Genders and Sexualities totally changed my perception on these subjects. As a self-proclaimed tomboy, who happens not to be a lesbian, society is much more accepting of my “ways” than they would be if I were an effeminate man. The essays and examinations gathered here by the editors take this subject to an infinitely crucial level in understanding what it means to fall outside of another proverbial box, from a non-Western cultural perspective.

AsiaPacifiQueer brings into focus the dynamics of colonialism, language, and religion, and their shaping of a particular culture seeking to understand itself. It begins with post-World War II Japanese homosexuality and its manifestations through an occupational perspective. In this essay, white collar and working class occupations both play a major role in how work ethic is portrayed in shaping masculinity. This masculinity still finds prevalence in male-male companionship, as evidenced by its over-representation in personal advertisements for male-male companionship.

The essay “Grrrl-Queens” by Clare Maree captures the use of how Japanese language is used not only as a powerful tool with which to communicate across gender lines, but also as a means in which to protest traditional uses of expected gendered communication. One-kotoba is considered a type of language and speech pattern used traditionally by gay men, and is "a parody of stereotypical women’s language," considered to be a hyperfeminine style of speech. However, it is purposely used by some lesbian women as an act of resistance to stereotypes of the "butch" lesbian.

In Kam Yip Lo Lucetta’s essay, "Recognition Through Mis-Recognition," the concept of masculine women in Hong Kong is one of a right of passage. Tomboyism is considered a phase that teenage girls go through before maturing to femininity. It does not generate as much anxiety and can even bring benefits in the workplace (the capable worker), provided it is temporary. Needless to say, for those who continue this phase on through womanhood, it represents a failed woman and a disqualified adult.

AsiaPacifiQueer represents a critical discourse though works that are about more than just queer studies. It opens up a much needed dialogue on how society uses gender and sexuality to dictate its economic, creative, and interpersonal relationships with its every conceivable contact. It is inevitable that in this examination, given the aforementioned hopes, it should create a wider spectrum with which to reevaluate the relationship between gender and sexuality.

Written by: Olupero R. Aiyenimelo, February 19th 2009

Nowtopia: How Pirate Programmers, Outlaw Bicyclists, and Vacant-lot Gardeners are Inventing the Future Today

admin — Wed, 04 Jun 2008 15:05:00 +0000

By Chris Carlsson

AK Press

Veteran writer and activist Chris Carlsson’s new book is nothing short of an urban working-class blueprint for change. Drawing on Marxist theory and powerfully deconstructing modern assumptions about class and work, Nowtopia presents fringe utopian ideals as well-reasoned, proactive solutions for how to authentically survive in our struggling society. Profiling the sustainable work of diverse groups—including open-source programmers, biodiesel enthusiasts, and “burners”—Carlsson guides us through a deeper understanding of the current range of subversive political action one can take in everyday life. While dense at times, Nowtopia summarizes these ideas and exposes a variety of subcultures that, despite our capitalist society, are thriving gift economies, working beyond the traditional models of today.

Carlsson’s primary concern is that, as individuals, we have very little (if any) influence over what we, as a society, do together. Capitalism seems an inherent part of our lives, and consumerism has taken over everything—from our meaningful relationships to common, public space. Our reliance on science has deskilled entire generations, and to put our culture back on course, it is going to require “radical patience” and a new respect for modern permaculture (i.e., interconnected and systemic analysis of society and its problems).

Some of the most radical politics being practiced today take place in microcosms of larger social movements, establishing truly sustainable practice in a time when that buzzword means less and less. Vacant-lot gardeners reclaim public space in an effort to remove themselves from a capitalist food supply, and bicycle activists empower masses of riders to take back public streets. Biodiesel proponents turn functional automobiles into cars running outside the system and reclaim an existing technology for everyday people. And while Burning Man is an admitted outlier in terms of sustainability, the gathering does inspire many to, at least temporarily, vacate their cubicles and let themselves go. A hopeful read, Nowtopia looks to people putting radical thought into practice as examples of how we could all achieve better living conditions within the confines of contemporary society.

Seeing Carlsson at a book reading and discussion in Boston last month, the one criticism I’d had of the book was raised by another audience member. Despite the diversity of the subjects themselves, the ideas in this book are currently being pursued and promoted by an overwhelmingly white crowd. What do we do about that? In what was one of the more striking responses I’ve heard on this subject, Carlsson explained that just because we should de-center white experience does not mean it shouldn’t be in the frame. People making revolutionary change should be disregarded because of their privileged past? That doesn’t move anyone forward. So long as we continue to celebrate diverse paths to revolution, and do not harm others in our own pursuits, are we all not in this together?

Carlsson speaks at length, both in the book and in person, about class structure and the politics of work, and the real value of his contribution is the idea of workers' revolution. To understand your life as more than a daily mundane for-pay existence is a vital concept sometimes lost on us all. The numerous conversations that I’ve recently had on the subject—often with people in my own Millennial generation, who forget their true passions because they’re so lost between earning their paychecks and maintaining a life online—speak to the ways our culture has negated our experiences as individuals who do passionate work that involves no currency. We all have to pay rent, but to get beyond treating others merely as their one-dimensional, working day identity is the most innovative concept in Carlsson’s analysis, and this critique of our current model is incredibly timely and necessary. The larger picture contained in these models of rogue gardening and hacking are tools for unlocking a better collective future for our culture.

Photo credit: Andreas Haugstrup Pedersen

Written by: Brittany Shoot, June 4th 2008

Reclaiming Feminist Motherhood

admin — Mon, 26 May 2008 16:48:00 +0000

Interview with Amy Richards

In 2003, _The New York Times Magazine _published “The Opt-Out Revolution,” by Lisa Belkin, a now nearly infamous contribution to the never-ending “mommy wars” collection of work. The cover story asserted that the nation’s most educated career women were “opting out” of their professional lives to become full-time stay-at-home moms. A revolution it was not—as the piece focused narrowly on select female Princeton University graduates and failed to document a real sea change in the landscape of American motherhood.

Yet seven months after its publication, feminist activist and writer Amy Richards attended a get-together with other feminist moms who couldn’t stop talking about the piece—despite the fact that their lives were, as Richards writes, the “living rebuttal” to Belkin’s claims. Richards - a founder of the Third Wave Foundation who cowrote two popular feminist works (Manifesta: Young Women, Feminism, and the Future and Grassroots: A Field Guide for Feminist Activism) - realized that these moms were devaluing their own realities and valuing another’s opinion simply because it was “codified in prestigious print.” Yet she also understood that there was a pressing need for real dialogue about one essential question: “What is feminism’s relationship to motherhood?”

Four years later, Richards answers the question in her latest book, Opting In: Having a Child Without Losing Yourself. The book is both her rebuttal to Belkin’s “Opt-Out Revolution” and her exploration of what it truly means to be a feminist mother. She examines feminism’s relationship to motherhood and asserts a philosophy of feminist parenting that values women’s individual, unique choices over any monolithic expert advice. Elevate Difference recently interviewed Richards, who lives in New York City with her partner and two sons, about her latest work.

Opting In addresses the divide between “feminism” and “motherhood” that has been present in the movement for quite some time. When did that divide become clear to you as a feminist activist—and what propelled you to do something about it?

Since the mid-’90s, I have had an online advice column, Ask Amy, located at Feminist.com. I frequently received questions to the tune of “can stay-at-home mothers be feminists?” or “how can I be a mother without giving up my own identity?”

Simultaneous to receiving those questions, I was traveling the country more and more, lecturing on college campuses, and I was struck by how many younger people had their lives all planned out: “babies and then career” or “career for a few years and then baby.” I was especially shocked that they were factoring babies into their future planning. Of course, when I was in college, I thought about it, but I just assumed it would happen. I took from that that most younger people wanted both or wanted it all and really assumed they could have it all, though maybe not at the same time.

While I was having these conversations, I was also becoming more enmeshed in my life as a feminist activist and started to pay attention to why mothers might feel excluded from the feminist movement. Certainly feminism had prioritized mothers and motherhood historically, but had it perhaps done so at the expense of some mothers (i.e., the way to be a good feminist was to work, have a midwife, and never allow pink or blue into your house)? Most mothers can’t and/or don’t want to adhere to all or any of those standards and thus felt confused about how they fit in as a feminist.

What was particularly challenging for this generation is that not only were women still struggling with society’s definition of what it meant to be a good woman (i.e., marry and procreate), but they were also struggling with feminism’s definition of what it meant to be a good woman (i.e., reject societal expectations).

You write that being a feminist parent was easier to define for your mother’s generation, in the Free to Be You and Me era of parenting. How is defining oneself as a feminist parent today a more complicated endeavor?

In past generations, being a feminist was more specifically about going against what was a prescribed role—for men and women alike. If you were a man, that meant rejecting some of your masculinity, and for women, that meant embracing your masculine side. There was the feminist hope that nurture had a lot more to do with “us” than we initially thought. Now, a generation or two later, we are seeing more scientific research that points to gender differences, thus requiring feminism to switch gears. It’s not about being the same or even having access to the same things, but about equally valuing our differences and our strengths.

Also, feminism initially was more explicitly about ensuring that girls had access to “boy things” (gym class, competitive sports, advanced math classed, competitive jobs). Today, even with that, inequalities persist because we have only made masculinity more valuable by giving boys and girls access to it, but that leaves femininity still marginalized. I also think it’s so much harder today because it’s so much easier to point out what’s wrong than it is to propose how to make it right—and that’s where we seem to be stuck.

As you detail in Opting In, an abundance of so-called “mommy wars” books are published in the mainstream today, and most seem to capitalize on women’s anxieties about motherhood and work. Why does this subject get so much media play, and, at the same time, still provoke people on such a deep level?

People love to see women fight—and that’s certainly part of the reason. We also want to see people’s facade of perfection cracked open. That’s the same motivation behind ogling over celebrity magazines or watching reality TV; we want people to be exposed, and that’s what we are hoping to find.

Sadly, I think we also devour these books - and the hype and controversy surrounding them - because women and mothers are terribly insecure, and socially we have been shown that to make ourselves feel better, we have to make other people feel worse. I don’t agree with that approach, and, more importantly, I want to understand it. And the way I have come to understand it is that many women prefer to shirk their own perspectives in favor of what the books say or what the experts say. They depend on them to say what they are too insecure to acknowledge on their own.

Your overall message in Opting In is that change begins with us—and that what is most important for mothers is to figure things out for themselves. Why—after so many years of the feminist movement—do these points even need to be made?

Most women have an easier time believing in change for others more than they believe in it for themselves—hence the popularity of “helping” women in other countries. If we look outside of ourselves, we are exempt from evaluating ourselves. Also, I think feminists initially thought that we would change the world, and now we realize that we also have to change ourselves—an evolution of an age-old problem.

Carol Gilligan’s book In a Different Voice really helped me understand this. She was documenting the status of women post Roe v. Wade—a decision that ostensibly gave women autonomy over their own bodies, a very radical act. But years after that decision, why did it feel like we were regressing? Yes, in part it had to do with a radical-right surge in this country, but it had to do more with women not really believing they were entitled to the change they were advocating for.

We suffer too much from a nice girl syndrome—wanting to please others and not wanting to ask for more, assuming that actualizing that might invalidate someone else.

While your message is that change begins with us, you do not abandon the call for systematic change in society for all families. What would radically improve parents’ lives in the United States?

The Family and Medical Leave Act should be expanded to companies with twenty-five or more employees; as is, it only covers for companies with fifty or more employees. As California has done, and New York has proposed, we need to extend this to paid leave. At a minimum, employers should have to pay into Social Security, even if their employee is taking unpaid leave.

The government should subsidize childcare—not in the form of marginalized publicly funded centers, but in the form of sponsorship to attend private groups. As is, publicly funded day care is so bad that it is known to do harm to children, while the best centers are those with a balance of paid and subsidized spots.

Pressure employers—though tax incentives—to provide options for more work/life, not exclusively work/family, balances. But more than “providing” any of these options, the government must mandate the changes it does enact. What makes Europe so ideal when it comes to the status of child-rearing is less that options are available and more that most people take advantage of them.

The dilemma between working and staying home to raise kids is really a privileged one, as you point out that many women, even if they want to, simply cannot afford to stay home full-time to raise their kids. Your book—and, through example, your own life—illustrates a middle way. What does that way entail?

If both parents are balancing work and family, it’s likely that you will have to sacrifice some financial security, but that can be balanced with the emotional security you gain from being with your family more. For me, personally, I also have to sacrifice some perceived middle class “needs”—how many music lessons, how many summer camps. For women, in particular, we need to relinquish control, and for men, they need to take control.

But what will make a middle way possible is belief that both work and family are essential to men’s and women’s lives. As much as we fought for women to have access to the workplace, we have to ensure that men have more access to home. That is, assume it’s a must for men, as we have always assumed it’s a must for women.

You quote many mothers in your book, but the voices of poor mothers—and mothers who live at the very margins of our society—seem to be missing in the text. How did you make decisions about whose voices to include in Opting In?

Though few poor mothers’ voices are in Opting In, their experiences are. Plus, part of my intention was to stop assuming that the only way to close the economic divide was to give poorer people more resources and access. Yes, we need to do that, but that only ratchets up, and we simultaneously need to put pressure on richer folks to do with less. It’s not enough to give poor people access to excellent public schools without draining the importance of private schools. Another example is giving fertility help to middle class families without examining who can’t afford it. Often that leads right back to a conversation about health care and who does and doesn’t have access to it.

In essence, I want richer people to own the fact that their privileged choices are at the expense of others. In my neighborhood, which is statistically one of the poorest in Manhattan, I increasingly see more expensive strollers. On the one hand, I think, “Great, good for them for having a fancy $800 stroller,” but my more pragmatic side thinks, “Damn those rich people for making them so popular, something they can readily purchase and others have to go into debt to get.”

Your chapter “Friends Forever” on how motherhood changes friendships and the not-so-subtle level of competition that exists between many mothers is something that many women can relate to. Why is true mutual support for parenting choices something that is hard for some feminists to give to one another?

Women naturally see another woman’s choice as a challenge to her own. And sadly, few women are confident enough in their own choices and, instead, hide behind the supposed experts or have to resort to being extra-righteous about their own choices, rather than be sympathetic to why we can’t all make the same choices.

I also think that women can, and should, raise the bar for their friends, and so some of the pressure is coming from a more thoughtful place; we want women to raise their expectations. The challenging of their choices can be an attempt to get them to demand more.

Your book is part memoir and includes passages about your own choices about pregnancy, parenting issues with your partner, and your feelings as both the daughter of a single mother and the mother of two sons. Will you speak about the importance and role of personal disclosure in your work as a feminist activist and writer?

Speaking personally is more difficult than having political opinions. You are certainly vulnerable. Initially, this was hard for me, because I want to be liked, and I know that some of my personal experiences might make people not like me. But I quickly learned that speaking my truths both made it easier for other people to do the same and, ultimately, made me feel better, because what I used to think was an exception I soon learned was more commonplace.

Also, my goal as an activist is to progress the conversation—about women’s status, around abortion, around what it means to be a parent - and in order to do that, we need to have more honesty. In the short term, speaking truthfully can be painful, but in the long run, I think you realize how it serves everyone to have it exposed.

You’ve been a feminist organizer for fifteen years and have spoken to countless women and men across the country. What do you continue to find remarkable about the feminist landscape in our country?

The treatment of Hillary Clinton has really exposed how much people don’t respect women, and it’s not shocking at all to me that elite women are her biggest haters. They are threatened by her. If a woman can have a successful career, keep a relationship intact despite big bumps, and raise a child, that raises the bar for other women to do the same.

I think that as much as some women want equality, they also like the short-term comfort of inequality—less is expected and, thus, they have to produce less. And this is what I see women struggling with. As oppressive as it was not to have choice, this generation is struggling equally with how difficult it is to choose when you have a range. I hope that women can believe in the change they advocate for others.

Photo Credit: Victoria Cohen

Written by: Ellen Papazian, May 26th 2008

The Forest for the Trees

admin — Tue, 04 Sep 2007 13:14:00 +0000

Directed by Maren Ade

Sundance Channel

The Forest for the Trees details several months in the life of a schoolteacher in Germany who leaves a small town to attempt teaching in a more suburban atmosphere. She arrives in her new life with great hopes for friendships, romance, and touching the lives of children in the high school. We soon learn, however, that Melanie Pröschle will not transition into the new setting easily.

Melanie first has difficulty fitting in with her new co-workers, who are predominantly older. The administration seems to be run by the males in the school, who view Melanie as naïve and inexperienced, and do not go to lengths to hide their opinions. Melanie intends to be “a breath of fresh air” to the school, however, is immediately met with the impression that no one believes in her ability to succeed at teaching her assigned class: a group of disrespectful teenagers.

Our protagonist then attempts to make friends in her new neighborhood, even sitting down with strangers and trying to start conversation, but finds herself among a sea of already-formed groups and relationships. She’s fortunate enough to find a friend in a woman living along the same street, but struggles with social skills in intimate and public settings.

This film does an amazing job at depicting awkwardness, isolation, despair, and the feelings one gets when they feel that their options have been depleted. The viewer is left with an empathetic grasp of the feelings that Melanie experienced, along with a strong anger towards her for making mistakes and not being stronger. This film led me to desire to be a stronger woman overall and to develop stronger interpersonal relationships with other women.

Written by: Lisa Renae Mikus, September 4th 2007

Working the Skies: The Fast-Paced, Disorienting World of the Flight Attendant

admin — Wed, 29 Aug 2007 19:45:00 +0000

By Drew Whitelegg

NYU Press

In Working the Skies, Drew Whitelegg takes the interviews and study of a multitude of flight attendants and creates a readable, enjoyable tale of the perils and possibilities flight attendants face. The book is part psychology, part history and part cultural study with plenty of personal tales from retired and active flight attendants. The majority of flight attendants are women, which places the job in a unique historical and social context.

Commercial flight became popular and accessible during the 1950s and 1960s. Originally, flight attendants were registered nurses to allay any health and safety concerns by fliers. It also became a respectable way for women to “escape” the house and have jobs.

As flight became safer in the 1960s, with pressurized cabins and other improvements, airlines began using the attraction and sex appeal of their flight attendants. The exotic destinations and glamour of air travel was celebrated. The author makes the case that there is currently nostalgia for this glamorous ideal of the flight attendant’s world that is at odds with the demands and hazards of the job.

“Space-out” was an often-repeated phrase/concept used by the author. Flight attendants in the capacity of their job are able to create a separate world from their home world. This gives them a particular freedom of autonomy and self-expression not as available to other women, working or not. The excitement and freedom that the job allows flight attendants in the “space-out” is countered by the guilt that many flight attendants with children and those in a relationship. It’s a complex issue combining cultural and social norms of what a woman should be for her children and partner with the affects of the job on the psyche along with the enjoyment of being able to “get away.”

The airlines are painted as worried more about bottom-line then the lives and concerns of flight attendants: shorter layovers, less staff, a return to the "sexy" flight attendant imagery of the past that causes a “squeeze-in” where freedom becomes restricted. It’s worth noting that most upper management staff are male, compared to the female-dominated flight attendant staff.

Working the Skies is an easy read, and I really enjoyed it. After reading this book, on my next flight I will be paying more attention and respect to the flight attendants I see.

Written by: Kristin Conard, August 29th 2007