Rutgers University Press

Women’s Activism in Latin America and the Caribbean: Engendering Social Justice, Democratizing Citizenship

farhana — Tue, 11 Jan 2011 08:00:00 +0000

Edited by Nathalie Lebon, Elizabeth Maier

One of the aims of the groundbreaking work Women’s Activism in Latin America and the Caribbean is the diffusion of the ideas of these mostly Latin-American scholars to a larger audience, thus the original 2006 Spanish-language volume’s translation and subsequent adaptation and expansion into English.

However, it seems contradictory to the spirit of the project to start reviewing it without mentioning the authors here. Besides excellent introductory essays by the editors listed above, this tome includes articles by the following Latin American and Caribbean academics who, for the most part, have been conscientiously translated from the original language: Myriam Merlet, Graciela di Marco, Norma Mogrovejo, Montserrat Sagot, María Luisa Tarrés, and Morena Herrera. The volume also includes interviews done by Graciela di Marco, and articles by scholars such as Karen Kampwirth, Ana Lorena Carrillo, Norma Stoltz Chinchilla, Kia Lily Caldwell, Mercedes Prieto, Andrea Pequeño, Clorinda Cominao, Alejandra Flores, Gina Maldonado, Cathy A. Rakowski, Gioconda Espina, Fiona MacAulay, Marysa Navarro, María Consuelo Mejía, Virginia Vargas, Marta Núñez Sarmiento, Helen Safa, Alice Colón, and Sara Poggio.

The foreword by Sonia E. Alvarez sums up succinctly why this book is so important to those of us studying questions of gender and activism in Latin America and the Caribbean. According to her reading, it is “brimming with compelling conceptual innovations, fresh empirical insights, and provocative political analysis, setting new parameters for future studies of feminist and other social movements in politics” in the region. There is no denying her expert judgment. However, the fact that this study provides a voice for the women listed above is what brings the innovative aspect, since many of these women have now been working in their respective countries for years in their own languages. Instead of all the “old regulars” working in the field in what the editors refer to as the Global North, this volume allows for an “inside look” into some (an infinite part, unfortunately) of the research that is ongoing in this region, at the same time as it allows for contrasting and/or other voices to come fill its pages. This achievement must be celebrated. Thus, for example, Graciela di Marco provides a voice for founding members of the Mothers and Grandmothers of the Plaza de Mayo, Nora Cortiñas and Estela Carlotto, more than thirty years into their continued battle.

Although some countries’ movements are still not included in this type of volume (Bolivia, Panama, and Honduras come to mind), the attempt made to be as inclusive as possible is one which is on the right track with making visible research on gender-based issues, especially with regard to race, religion, sexual preferences and social classes. However, there is no way to ignore the magnitude of providing a space to the women’s indigenous groups from Ecuador (for example), given that they have only had the right to vote in their own countries for less than forty years. And, significantly, this is what this volume is about- taking a larger look at women’s activism in the region and appreciating the scope of what has advanced in the past years for the very diverse women’s movement, given the ebb and flow of the political, social and economic circumstances in the world.

Regrettably, the situation has actually gone backwards in some countries such as Nicaragua where the women’s movement has suffered significant losses in the past years, as Kampwirth argues in her chapter, especially with the still controversial therapeutic abortion debate which has been ongoing in the country. While some countries have moved from what were seemingly viable feminist movements towards what Kampwirth deems as “antifeminism” or backlash movements, some are only experiencing nascent incursions into this activist domain (what Lebon fittingly calls “activism with unexpected actors”) and still reject the “feminist” label.

Among the twenty excellent chapters, of particular note in the volume, given last January’s earthquake and more recent cholera outbreak in Haiti, is Myriam Merlet’s article on women’s citizenship in that country. It provides a remarkable glimpse into the leaps and bounds that were being made by women leading up to this disaster and, perhaps, provides some inherent insight into how some of the country’s problems could eventually be resolved from within.

Written by: Sophie M. Lavoie, January 11th 2011

New Blood: Third Wave Feminism and the Politics of Menstruation

brittany — Mon, 13 Sep 2010 10:00:00 +0000

By Chris Bobel

Rutgers University Press

When I first picked up New Blood, I immediately thought about Sarah Haskins, the feminist comedienne who does the segment ‘Target Women’ (on Current TV), in which she uses humour and sarcasm to draw attention to ridiculous media representations of women and female stereotypes. Watch ‘Target Women: Your Garden’—in which she exposes commercials that dare not name ‘lady parts’ and you’ll understand why I thought of her and now, after reading New Blood see in her a great representation of the contemporary feminist movement.

In New Blood, Chris Bobel, an associate professor and chair of women’s studies at the University of Massachusetts and the author of The Paradox of Natural Mothering, shines a timely and important spotlight on the small menstrual activist movement. Borne out of divergent feminist leanings that shape contemporary menstrual activism, it is based on the effort to speak openly about menstruation, the bleeding body, and to rebel against the notion of period as a ‘dirty little secret’ as well as to act against negative campaigns and build an environment in which alternative, environmentally sustainable and body-positive feminine health care is mainstreamed.

Bobel’s research for this book brought her in contact with two strands of menstrual activists: feminist spiritualist who celebrate the inherent female experience of menstruation (think: red-tents, menarche rituals at moonlight); and the radical menstruation activist who, choosing the term ‘menstrator’ to replace ‘woman’ to free themselves of the sex/gender dichotomy and resist the exclusivity of static gender identity. Bobel calls them ‘revolutionary’; (think: radical cheerleaders; anti-corporate rallies, eco-warriors, and dressing up as Tampons to cause stir in campuses across the US).

Though Bobel spends much time on charting the development of today’s menstrual activism, she also reviews the history of menstrual activism, its manifestation and different approaches (i.e. working to lobby the FemCare Industry and government to improve the safety of disposable products rather than today’s radical menstrual activists, who have turned their back on such products and the corporations completely) during the 1970s and 80s in the times of the ‘Toxic Shock Syndrome’ scare. Furthermore, Bobel’s underlying message goes out to all those of today’s 'Third Wave Feminism' to not dismiss its ties with the ‘Second Wave’ (of the 1960s, 70s and 80s), whose tactics and some messages and efforts were very similar.

What struck me most, when reading this book was that there is a dearth in literature that so eloquently combines the scholarly theoretical developments in feminism with the practical, human, and material activism as New Blood does. What I furthermore particularly liked about Bobels material was that she has made a great effort here to question the demographic (overwhelmingly white, middle-class, though in the case of radical menstrual activists, mainly homosexual/genderqueer) of this movement and provides an important and interesting hypothesis that accounts for the absence of larger numbers of women of colour in this movement and the apparent complete lack of trans-identified participants.

Written for an ‘undergrad/general public’ audience, this book is an important and interesting read for anyone who wonders what’s going on with feminism today, wants to know about its relationship with its recent past and has ever felt that ‘bleedin’ is everyone’s business’. Let’s just say that this feminist went online yesterday to buy a Mooncup and not just because it’s all the rage. Last year, The Guardian’s Kira Cochrane said: Menstrual activism is ‘having a moment.’ Lets hope that it is not just a fleeting apparition on the left-wing media landscape but, like Bobel advocates, continues to be used to ‘interrogate the material body and identity, the cultural and the biological, and the social and the individual…to be better equipped to make profound change.’

Written by: Anna Matussek, September 13th 2010

Misframing Men: The Politics of Contemporary Masculinities

brittany — Sun, 12 Sep 2010 10:00:00 +0000

By Michael Kimmel

Rutgers University Press

The media’s obsession with the “crisis” of masculinity has long reached a feverish, cliché-filled pitch. “We’re losing our boys,” one article proclaims. “We must save the males,” says another. It’s unnerving, particularly since that identity crisis is pinned on the advancement of women in formerly male-dominated spheres.

There is a masculinity crisis, according to Michael Kimmel’s latest book Misframing Men. But it has nothing to do with women “invading” formerly men-only spaces or men taking on more responsibilities at home. Instead, Kimmel posits, men—particularly young men—are being confronted with media stereotypes and a public discourse that attempt to put them in a rigidly stifling box of masculine identity. And the more men struggle to fit themselves inside this frame, the more apparent it becomes that such a frame is doing a grave disservice to them.

Kimmel does an excellent job weaving together the economic, political, and social contributors to this masculinity crisis while avoiding the over-conflating (and overreacting) he is so critical of in the media. His debunking of gender symmetry in domestic violence articulately critiques a quantitative tool for measuring domestic violence (the Conflict Tactics Scale) through a stern analysis of the differing intentions and severity of male- and female-perpetrated violence. He negates the claims of gender symmetry supporters who believe the solution to violence perpetrated by both genders is to decrease the amount of funding for women who are survivors of domestic violence by suggesting an overhaul on how our culture approaches the causes (and solutions) of interpersonal violence.

His discussion of the struggle to make the Citadel and Virginia Military Institute co-ed—an arduous legal process for which he served an expert witness—is approached with no less of a degree of professionalism and intentionality. Critics bemoaned the attempt to “de-male” these institutions as another “threat” to men’s rights and happiness. Yet, as Kimmel points out, the rationale for keeping women out of these institutions has been mired in stereotypes and wholly ignorant of reality. As he poignantly concludes, the best way to strengthen these institutions is not to continue to seal them off from the outside world (and women). Rather, Kimmel states, “In a context of equality, the assumed differences between women and men will be revealed as stereotypes that help neither women nor men nor the institutions in which we find ourselves.” It is this striking eloquence that makes it my favorite chapter in Misframing Men.

Kimmel ends his book on a high note, reflecting that—despite allegations that young men are buckling under the pressure of women’s equality—young men on college campuses are happily adopting the “identities, practices, and ideas” of gender equality—in essence, constructing a new frame for themselves. It remains to be seen whether the media takes notice or chooses to remain mired in the sand of their manufactured obsessions.

Written by: Gwen Emmons, September 12th 2010

Black Dogs and Blue Words: Depression and Gender in the Age of Self-Care

admin — Mon, 12 Jul 2010 08:00:00 +0000

By Kimberly Emmons

Rutgers University Press

Jerry Seinfeld jokes that pharmaceutical companies could save time by naming all of their antidepressants “Cramitol” (“Cram it all”). Kimberly Emmons would likely agree. Her eye-opening Black Dogs and Blue Words opens up an original, potentially life-changing perspective on antidepressants and the companies who market them. Emmons, an English professor at Case Western Reserve University and an expert in medical rhetoric, offers shocking and persuasive evidence that women are not only the targets of these ads, but have become complicit in the targeting.

Emmons builds her case brick by brick. Although her prose is academic and dense in places, the slowly building logic and the reader’s ensuing sense of outrage make the book as hard to put down as any who-dun-it. In fact, the book is its own brand of who-dun-it. How did women become Big Pharma bullseyes? Solving the mystery requires understanding how the language of antidepressant advertising both reflects and shapes gender stereotypes. To illustrate, Emmons dissects print and broadcast ads word by word and frame by frame. She points out how words such as “excessive crying," “fatigue," “loss of zest,” and “tearfulness” have long been used in our culture to describe women’s emotions and alleged deficits, and how drug manufacturers have co-opted the phrasing to describe depression.

It gets worse. Analyzing the photographs that accompany the ads, Emmons demonstrates how they reflect our societal norms of acceptable female behavior. The ads feature sad women standing apart from their family, women whose disappointed children accuse them of being “no fun anymore,” and protective fathers with their arms around children, standing apart from mom, fixing her with baleful stares. Next frame, the woman diagnoses herself with depression. Next, she is shown at her doctor’s office requesting antidepressants, and, presto, next frame, the woman has been restored to her acceptable “gendered self.” How do we know? She reports her progress as she shops for the family groceries, or while playing with her children, or while involved in some other womanly scenario. Emmons also surveys children’s literature and that women’s magazine staple, the self-diagnostic quiz, with equally interesting and well-considered conclusions.

One of the book’s most fascinating chapters traces the history of the Diagnostic and Statistics Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM), which, as the title implies, spells out the criteria for diagnosing psychiatric illnesses. In one of her biggest bombshells, Emmons reveals that much of the language employed by Big Pharma to describe depression is not found in the DSM. Rather, drug manufacturers have cherry-picked synonyms primarily associated with women. Women absorb the ads, diagnose themselves with depression and make a beeline for the doctor’s office. The doctor, bombarded by the same marketing and lacking the time for a more in-depth probing, agrees. Prescription signed. Pills sold. And so we circle.

But don’t think that Emmons is anti-antidepressant, because she isn’t. Her view is much more reasoned. She acknowledges the good that medication can do under the right circumstances. But she also urges women to go from a regime of self-doctoring to a regime of self-care. Emmons uses “self-doctoring” to refer to women’s willingness to buy into the pharma-philosophy that emotional and social malaise stem from chemical problems which only can have chemical solutions. By accepting this rhetoric, says Emmons, women deprive themselves of their own personal narrative, one which may have little or nothing to do with clinical depression.

In contrast, self-care involves reacting to signals that something is not right with a conscious surveying of one’s life and all its circumstances. Perhaps medication will help. Or perhaps a much more profound change is in order. Learning how we have been manipulated, our lives altered by corporate profiteering, is depressing. Pass me the Cramitol. On second thought, don’t. It doesn’t have to be this way.

Written by: T. Tamara Weinstein, July 12th 2010

Tillie Olsen: One Woman, Many Riddles

admin — Sun, 30 May 2010 00:00:00 +0000

By Panthea Reid

Rutgers University Press

Part of Panthea Reid’s title seems to allude to Tillie Olsen’s 1961 collection of short stories, Tell Me a Riddle. It also seems to highlight the layers of complexity in a woman hailed as an iconic writer and feminist. Reid doesn’t idealize Olsen. This was a woman who began lying at a young age and continued throughout her life. She cheated on her husband, cheated Random House out of an advance for a book she never wrote, and cheated her daughter out of the experience of having a devoted and attentive mother. However, Reid does give full credit to Olsen’s work as a writer, feminist, and social activist. All great figures in history, I feel, have complicated relationships to the world and to other people. It is important to understand and acknowledge a great figure’s humanity as well as celebrating his/her greatness.

Reid was able to interview and get information from Olsen herself before Olsen’s death in 2001, and she also spoke with Olsen’s siblings, one of her daughters, other relatives, and Olsen’s colleagues and fellow writers. The book is well-researched and provides an in-depth look at her life. It doesn’t seem to have been an easy task for Reid. Reid worked on the book for ten years, and the ins and outs of Olsen’s life seem at times overwhelming.

Olsen had many roles throughout her life, and in a quote from her diary from age eighteen, she wrote: “With dozens of selves, quarreling and tearing at each other—which then is the natural self? ...None.” This seems fitting for a woman who ended up intertwined in some of the century’s most historic moments: she was a communist and revolutionary in the 1930s, promoted equal work for equal pay in the 1940s, earned the nickname “Tillie Appleseed” for planting the seeds of feminism and women’s studies, was an anti-war activist in the 1960s and 1970s, and was investigated by the FBI for subversion. The book is broken down by chapter into time periods from “Magnetic Personality: 1925-1929” and “Early Genius: 1934” to “Image Control: 1981-1996” and “Enter Biographer: 1997-2007.” It includes some black and white photographs of Olsen from childhood through to adulthood.

Reid doesn’t necessarily unravel all the riddles around Olsen, but she does an incredible job at bringing the parts of the riddles to light. We see Olsen as a self-absorbed and manipulative woman; Reid definitely knocks Olsen off any saintly pedestal. But she does this without lessening the impact of Olsen’s work. The book is readable and engaging; it isn’t just for scholars.

Written by: Kristin Conard, May 29th 2010

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

Leading the Way: Young Women's Activism for Social Change

admin — Sat, 17 Apr 2010 16:01:00 +0000

Edited by Mary K. Trigg

Rutgers University Press

When I read Leading the Way, I felt the same way I did the first time I read Grassroots: A Field Guide for Feminist Activism by Jennifer Baumgardner and Amy Richards or Listen Up: Voices from the Next Feminist Generation by Barbara Findlen. I felt inspired, challenged, and optimistic about the future of feminism. I felt I had a road map of feminist ideas I could apply to my own life, and I knew I had incredible, real-life examples of women creating social change in their lives.

Leading the Way is a collection of essays straight from the pens—and hearts—of twenty-one young women activists. Their personal reflections are honest, illuminating, and sometimes raw. What makes this collection unique is that the authors all share a common experience in their feminist journeys: participation in the Rutgers University's Institute for Women's Leadership certificate program. The program is directed by the collection's editor, Mary K. Trigg. Trigg handpicked the authors and essays in this collection, and her choices represent a diverse, creative group of women who are applying the knowledge gained in the program directly to their lives.

Trigg also wrote the book's "Introduction," which provides a clear vision of where feminism is now, and where it is likely to go tomorrow. I found it to be incredibly informative and the perfect starting point from which to explore the numerous feminist issues contained in the consequent chapters. Contained in those chapters, the reader will find stories by women who are Latina, Muslim, gay, straight, White, African American, Asian American, musicians, writers, and much more. The women's stories are about their careers, relationships, academic studies, and communities. The women are doing amazing things with their lives, such as teaching English to young people in Kenya, promoting films created by women, and working as a nurse in Brooklyn.

For those who claim that women in their twenties are disengaged from feminist thought and activism, Leading the Way provides the proof that the new generation of young women are taking their leadership and their feminist activism seriously. These women are directly applying feminism to their lives, and their essays will move your toward creating more time for feminist activism in your own life.

Written by: Meg Rayford, April 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

From Pink to Green: Disease Prevention and the Environmental Breast Cancer Movement

admin — Fri, 18 Dec 2009 17:01:00 +0000

By Barbara L. Ley

Rutgers University Press

...the environmental breast cancer movement is well positioned to use its breast cancer work as a way to contribute not only to the eradication of the disease itself but also to the environmental health of all humans and other living beings.

When I was diagnosed with Stage II invasive ductile carcinoma, I was angry not just because I now had cancer, but because no one seemed to be talking about its causes or, better yet, prevention. When my husband spied an opportunity for me to review From Pink to Green, I jumped at the chance: finally, someone was addressing prevention.

From Pink to Green consists of eight chapters, useful notes, and a largely accurate index of the names of researchers, cancer-related organizations, and several score topics. The first chapter, "A Movement in the Making," considers a postcard from 1994 depicting breast cancer survivor and activist Raven Light. She stands with her hand on her hip while holding a sign that reads, "Invisibility Equals Death." Light is bare-chested, her mastectomy scar exposed. The postcard says the number of women diagnosed with breast cancer increased from one in twenty in 1964 to one in eight by 1994, but what does this mean? That the incidence of breast cancer in women has tripled? That the rates of diagnosis have tripled? Both? Something else? The already visually arresting postcard implicitly asks whether the dominant paradigm of breast cancer research—diagnosis, treatment, and cure—overlooks something even more fundamental: prevention.

Ley's fascinating account is multi-sited and multi-method in scope. She volunteered in both a small, one-room office at WomenCARE (Women's Cancer Advocacy, Resources and Education) and at the American Cancer Society, and was also a research associate for the environmental health scientist Devra Lee Davis. She thus simultaneously inhabits the worlds of social activism and scientific research.

Much of the text is devoted to the science of multiple exposures to cancer-causing pathogens. Readers will appreciate how xenoestrogens "share chemical properties with the hormone estrogen and can act on the body's cells and tissue as false estrogen molecules, disrupting the ability of natural estrogen to function normally." They will be challenged to find that phthalates found in cosmetics, deodorants, shampoos, plastics are known breast cancer carcinogens and have been linked to increased rates of testicular sterility in male offspring of women using these products.

Because From Pink to Green shines the light on precautionary prevention, not secondary cure, I want to quote from Mary O'Brien, breast cancer survivor and environmental health activist: _Our breasts are simply ONE marvelous part in Earth's system... If we're going to put our bodies and our breasts back together... we're going to have to restore the hormone systems of the frogs. ... We're going to have to put estuaries, streams, grasslands, the winds and the ozone layer back together. ... We are going to have to reconstruct our agriculture so that farms are not hazardous chemical sites... we're going to have to consider what it means to know and care for children, to avoid forcing them into a world that has no room for anything but humans.__From Pink to Green_ is designed for women's studies and public health courses. I will share it with other women whom I have met through my experience with breast cancer.

Written by: Cassandra Lee, December 18th 2009

Earth in Our Care: Ecology, Economy, and Sustainability

admin — Sat, 21 Nov 2009 01:00:00 +0000

By Chris Maser

Rutgers University Press

In Earth in Our Care: Ecology, Economy, and Sustainability, Chris Maser sets out to explain the interconnectedness of life on this planet and the importance of promoting the functioning of healthy ecosystems. Rather than being a dry treatise on biological systems, the text is engaging and draws on all kinds of disciplines.

I consider myself to be an advocate for sustainability, but am not overly familiar with the technical aspects of environmentalism or ecology. Reading this from the perspective of someone who is not a scientist, Maser does a good job of writing in an approachable way that is easy to understand most of the time. He doesn’t assume that the reader is already familiar with concepts like feedback loops, the commons, or trade-offs, and takes the time to briefly describe some of these key concepts of ecology. That being said, there are definitely some very theoretical and philosophical concepts discussed in this book that can be difficult to follow. The author draws on history, philosophy, linguistics, biology, and other disciplines in order to make his points, which makes his arguments more nuanced and interesting but can also be a little distracting at times.

Maser insists that we as human beings are obligated to care about and understand ecology. The last chapter of the book, “Where do we go from Here?,” gives some recommendations about how to go about changing human culture and society so that we can support the healthy functioning of the Earth’s ecosystems. Maser’s two main recommendations are that we "critically examine our situation today” and "determine where society needs to be at the end of this century if people are to have any kind of dignified life with an overall sense of well-being.” Earth in Our Care makes an important contribution to both of these goals and will likely inspire readers to begin thinking about sustainability in a new way.

Written by: Liz Simmons, November 20th 2009

Mass Destruction: The Men and Giant Mines that Wired America and Scarred the Planet

admin — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 00:56:00 +0000

By Timothy J. LeCain

Rutgers University Press

In Mass Destruction, Timothy J. LeCain carefully examines the industrial open-pit mining industry in America, and its technological, social, and environmental impact on our modern world.

Full disclosure: Books like this have a tendency to take my enviro-angst to a whole new level. I consider myself concerned with environmental issues, but I clearly have not yet reached Colin Beavan (a.k.a. did-not-use-toilet-paper-for-a-year-man) levels of environmental virtue. I would say that I have a moderate to high level of "impact guilt"; I carpool, but feel bad for not owning a hybrid or taking the bus. I recycle, but feel remorseful for buying food with lots of packaging. Mass Destruction took me from a vague kind of guilt when throwing my towels into the dryer straight to an appendicitis-like pain when thinking of all the copper wiring that has made my lifetime of electricity use possible.

If you have never seen pictures of the Bingham Pit Mine outside of Salt Lake City, Utah, its scope will definitely take your breath away. Measuring two and a half miles wide and three-quarters of a mile deep, the mine is one of only two man-made objects that are visible from space. LeCain sees this as fitting, “given that the astronauts’ technological home away from home in space would most likely contain copper, aluminum, gold, and other metals mined in open pits.” However, LeCain argues convincingly that the rise of technological innovation and efficiencies that sent Americans to the moon has also created the potential for the worldwide depletion of natural resources and irrevocable damage to ecologically important areas. LeCain describes the proliferation of “dead zones,” which are areas near pit mining operations that have been so besieged and exploited that they essentially become sterile, and even poisonous.

Even more alarming is LeCain’s assertion that as developing countries takes on American-style production and consumption habits, the environmental crises created by open pit mining will grow exponentially. Yet, in the fair-minded style LeCain uses throughout the book, he argues that America should not ask the rest of the world to abandon their lucrative mining operations due to environmental impact. Now that we have benefited from the mineral riches we have extracted, we cannot hypocritically expect the rest of the world to sit by and pass up the opportunity such technology provides to its people. The obligation of America, according to LeCain, will be in scientific advancement: finding ecologically sound methods for mineral extraction. His hope is that these advancements will provide an increased quality of life for people around the world.

I fervently hope LeCain is right that our future is one where technology and ecology coincide. However, barring the simultaneous worldwide vaporization of every iPod, Hummer, and coal-fired power plant, I have trouble believing humanity will ever be able to use earth’s resources with anything remotely resembling sustainability. But that could just be my enviro-angst talking.

Written by: Jennifer Wedemeier, November 4th 2009

Side Dishes: Latina American Women, Sex, and Cultural Production

admin — Fri, 30 Oct 2009 08:00:00 +0000

By Melissa A. Fitch

Rutgers University Press

Side Dishes, at times more tasty, original, and irresistible than “the main dishes,” is a delightful, playful, and innovative work about Latina, Brazilian, and Spanish American women writers, filmmakers, cartoonists, and science fiction producers. Invaluable works by women in Side Dishes are found outside the usual diet of canonical texts by Latin American women. They broaden our knowledge and understanding of different ways and approaches of looking at cultural narratives of women. Beside “the main dishes” regularly serving narratives of women as victims of male aggression, “the side dishes” write, talk, or make films about sexual lust by women and about the treatment of women’s sexuality.

In fact, the first chapter of the book “Lust” discusses sexuality often classified as Pornography, dealing with bisexuality, lesbianism, and masturbation. Chapter two, “Pop,” is about science fiction writers and cartoonists, namely Marta Gómez, the comedian from the United States; Cecilia Rosetto from Argentina; and her compatriot, the cartoonist Maitena Burundarena together with science fiction writer Daina Chaviano from Cuba. Chapter three, “Issues,” explores the academic studies dealing with feminism though journals such as_ Debate Feminista_ from Mexico, Feminaria from Argentina, and Cadernos Pagu from Brazil.

Chapter four, “Flicks,” discusses the representation of women’s sexuality in film. Argentinean Lucrecia Martel’s La niña santa (The Holy Girl) is about a devoutly religious girl Amalia (María Alché) who constantly talks and thinks about sex. Mexican María Novaro’s Sin dejar huella (Without a Trace) explores metaphorical and physical borders in a story about Ana (Aitana Sánchez-Gijón), a Mexican born, but Spanish raised dealer of fake Mayan archaeological relics. In it we also meet Aurelia (Tiaré Scanda), a young Mexican mother who makes her way to Cancún after stealing cash from her boyfriend. Tata Amaral’s film Antonia, a hit in Brazil, is about four young black women living in favelas (slums) outside Sao Paulo who had each experienced a tragedy and want to improve their living conditions. This film is about feminine friendship.

In chapter five, the author examines the development of women’s studies in Latin America and hopes that students will be encouraged to evaluate cultural texts in debates in and out of academia. In Fitch’s own words her goal with Side Dishes is “to put an array of cultural artefacts related to women in Latin America on the table.” She has done it beautifully. Through the culinary metaphors she has expanded on a sometimes forgotten area in feminist studies. With this fascinating work she signposts new directions for areas of Latin American feminism, cultural studies, and film studies, and makes a significant contribution to the main canon of Latin American narratives. This work is most likely to satisfy not only the tastes of academics but also any open minded reader interested in “the side dishes” of the diet.

Written by: Anna Hamling, October 30th 2009

Translating Childhoods: Immigrant Youth, Language, and Culture

admin — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 23:33:00 +0000

By Marjorie Faulstich Orellana

Rutgers University Press

Writing a book and having it published is not the accomplishment it used to be. While academic presses are not known for being as competitive as popular presses, they appear to be on the precipice of absurdity. Translating Childhoods: Immigrant Youth, Language, and Culture is an additional finger’s width of movement toward the edge.

Translating Childhoods is an ethnography. Its research was conducted through observation and collecting data from diaries and interviews. The author studied children of immigrants (and at times immigrants themselves) who fulfill the function of translator for their family, and this is the subject of the book.

Faulstich Orellana, while able to avoid participation, chooses to wade into the ongoing debate in the social sciences about whether, as such, the social scientist should act as a physical scientist. Should they aim for aloofness and attempt detachment, or acknowledge their biases and preferences and address them in their writing? She subscribes to the latter position. Married to an immigrant, much of her motivation and mindset in writing this book are acknowledged by her as being the result of her personal relationships.

Child translators form a stratum of unrewarded workers in society, particularly important in a globalizing world. The children acting as translators are unrewarded in monetary terms while being relied upon for financial matters, and precariously teeter on the edge of adulthood while remaining children. Faulstich Orellana would like to focus on the often ignored economic implications of this work, an emphasis which forms a basis of feminist theories in political economies. Ultimately, subordinates in society often work the hardest while earning the least both financially and socially.

The book reads as many other academic books do: as a formulaic, un-inventive, well-stated thesis in a poorly written publication. While the subject is interesting, it is insufficient. Faulstich Orellana creates additional suspense by emphasizing the dichotomies of the children’s familial positions—child and authority figure, dependent and depended upon—however, these are inadequate in holding the book up, and 125 pages (not including appendices) felt more like the reverse, 521 pages. Faulstich Orellana’s fastidiousness in defining her terms and explaining her methodology contributes to the uninitiated reader’s understanding; however, her circular references, not very cryptic foreshadowing, and academic namedropping make this brand of scholarly writing particularly unreadable.

Written by: Elisheva Zakheim, October 16th 2009

Politicking Online: The Transformation of Election Campaign Communications

admin — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 16:46:00 +0000

Edited by Costas Panagopoulos

Rutgers University Press

By now, we are all so familiar with the way the Obama campaign used technology to revolutionize politics that it almost seems cliché. Media coverage of the campaign’s strategy has made it seem as if Obama invented Internet campaigning. On the contrary, Politicking Online: The Transformation of Election Campaign Communications points out that “the digital pulse” of Obama’s 2008 presidential campaign was significant not for its innovative tech-savvy approach, but for its ability to synthesize lessons learned from a decade of web innovations and missteps.

For the politically minded, Politicking Online is a treasure trove of case studies, statistics, graphs, and clear-cut analysis of what works (Ned Lamont’s winning Connecticut’s Democratic primary nomination was due, in part, to his ability to gain support from the progressive blogosphere), what does not work (a candidate’s Facebook profile page means nothing if it doesn’t motivate voters to actually get out to the polls on election day), and what we are still unsure of (do websites boost civic participation among the politically indifferent, or just rile up those who are already engaged?).

Panagopoulos breaks down the nebulous term “technology” into a variety of sub-categories—blogging, online fundraising, Facebook, campaign websites, text messaging—without getting too nuanced and without skimming the surface of these topics. This ultimately results in a book that flows well from one topic to another without seeming fragmented. The reader is able to analyze website technology in congressional and state legislative campaigns before entering into a discussion on whether these websites have an impact on civic engagement, looking at how campaigns use other technology, such as email, text messaging, and online advertisements, to enhance their web presence. Politicking Online concludes with a discussion of blogging, Facebooking, and YouTube—technologies that, when used correctly, can enhance a candidates’ appeal and, when used poorly, leave candidates unable to retain control of their image.

Two of Politicking Online’s pieces focused on international examples of online communications in political campaigns. These two pieces, which looked at blogging in German electoral campaigns and text messaging in get out the vote efforts in Spain, left me simultaneously eager for more examples of how online communications worked on a global level and annoyed that it was not a more robust investigation. Panagopoulos would have done well to either examine this topic more wholeheartedly, or leave it out altogether. Two chapters in a book that otherwise focused on American politics seemed like a distraction.

Despite this, Politicking Online is a book that experienced campaign workers, aspiring politicians, tech-junkies, and part-time political wonks will find intriguing, informative, and definitely worth missing a few Twitter or blog updates to delve into.

Written by: Gwen Emmons, October 14th 2009

Fit to Be Tied: Sterilization and Reproductive Rights in America, 1950 – 1980

admin — Sun, 11 Oct 2009 17:09:00 +0000

By Rebecca Kluchin

Rutgers University Press

In 2004, at the age of twenty-three, I entered my gynecologist's office to request permanent sterilization. My doctor repeatedly refused my request, and would not honor my alternate request for an IUD. I tried changing doctors, but still encountered severe resistance to my wish to be permanently sterilized. Now that the IUD I did eventually obtain will be ready to come out at age thirty, my doctor has still indicated that she will not perform the procedure.

After reading Rebecca Kluchin's Fit to Be Tied, I am left wondering if my doctors' refusals to honor my wishes are, consciously or not, vestigial traces of America's bleak history involving positive and negative eugenics—separate categories for "fit" and "unfit" women. From the turn of the twentieth century to the late 1970s, social, legal, and medical authoritarianism and paternalism combined with white anxiety over losing social dominance in America to result in extraordinarily skewed, disparate policies of reproductive "rights" for white middle class women and poor women of color.

In the post-WWII era, concerns were raised about the population "explosion" and the resulting fear that poor, uneducated immigrants and people of color were "outbreeding" the white middle and upper classes. Griswold v. Connecticut, the landmark Supreme Court decision legalizing contraception for married couples, would not be decided until 1965, and few if any women had access to contraception at all. The solution put into effect by medical and legal authorities was to adopt a policy of eugenics: the undesirable minorities, often unwed, sunken into poverty, and with little to no recourse, were aggressively encouraged and often forced into unwanted sterilizations. Women were deceived, lied to, and even legally sentenced to sterilization under the white- and male-dominated cultural paradigm. The worst of these forced sterilization cases were known colloquially in the South as "Mississippi appendectomies," in which women deemed "unfit" to reproduce by physicians entered hospitals for routine surgeries (such as appendix removal) only to later find that their ovaries and uterus had been taken out as well.

Meanwhile, advances in sterilization procedures made the operation quite attractive to middle class white women who wanted to take control of their reproductive destiny. These women appealed to physicians and hospitals in order to obtain tubal ligations, only to find themselves rebuffed. Educated white women of privilege were denied sterilization because it was believed that they should give birth to as many children as possible, despite their own feelings on the matter. Many hospitals developed what was known as the "120 rule" of age/parity: if a reproductively "fit" woman's age multiplied by the number of children she had added up to 120, a sterilization was provided.

Sterilization for men is also touched upon in Fit to Be Tied. Infuriatingly, but perhaps not surprisingly, vasectomies have historically been provided on demand for men with little to no trepidation on the part of medical professionals.

On another personal note, I discussed this book with a friend of mine, who said it sounded interesting but "suspect." He did not know that eugenics was practiced openly in America for many decades, and believed that Kluchin's book was essentially feminist conspiracy theory. This sort of troubling ignorance of history only deepens the importance and necessitates the knowledge of medico-legal authoritarianism over women in America's past. Kluchin's work is straightforward, factual, academic, and exhaustively researched, but not intimidatingly so. It is a highly absorbing read and an incisive, grim but eminently necessary look into pre-Roe v. Wade America.

Written by: Natalie Ballard, October 11th 2009