academia

Feminism for Real: Deconstructing the Academic Industrial Complex of Feminism

mandy — Sat, 23 Apr 2011 08:00:00 +0000

Jessica Yee and I have a lot in common, personally and politically. For one, last year we were both curating collective published works that simultaneously construct and deconstruct contemporary feminist theory while broadening the scope of who is seen as legitimate enough to be a theory-maker. I wasn't aware of her work, and so far as I know, she wasn't aware of mine either. Despite being topically similar, the results of both projects are strikingly different. And I have a few theories about why.

Feminism FOR REAL brings together twenty written works, both poetry and prose, penned by a variety of radical activists. While the authors are diverse in their backgrounds, they converge on one belief: academia, boo! This is a pretty common refrain among activists, one I've sung over and over myself. But it's also one that now feels a little off key to me for its wholesale exclusivity and apparent lack of understanding of the ways activism and and academic are necessarily interdependent. For that reason, I found myself having to put forth some effort to read many of these pieces where they're at, instead of with condescension.

I want to be clear about a couple of things: 1) although it is a frequent accusation tossed my way, I am not an academic and 2) I claim the sentiment in the paragraph above as a part of my own personal struggle and processing, not a failing of this anthology. Too many times we patronizingly press our lips together, just waiting to inform the young'ins that they'll see things differently one day. And even though they might, that's no excuse for bolstering one's sense of superiority at another's expense, nor choosing not to interrogate the things that contribute to our own self-righteous point of view. In fact, it's just this kind of ageist trope that Yee and crew (rightfully!) rail against in Feminism FOR REAL.

So every piece in this book didn't speak to me—so what?! The ones that did were exciting to read and filled me with validation. Megan Lee's "Maybe I'm Not Class-Mobile; Maybe I'm Class Queer" is an excellent examination of the complex conflicts held by those of us who have been able to 'escape' our families' poverty while maintaining the desire to embrace our working class identity and advocate for us and for them. Andrea Plaid discusses the unintentional delegitimizing of Ann Marie Rios, and therefore all nontraditionally educated sex workers, by professional (read: degreed) sexologist Bianca Laureano in "No, I Would Follow the Porn Star's Advice." And ending with Kate Klein's "On Learning How Not to Be An Asshole Academic Feminist" (re)assured me that Yee and I are probably on the same page with our personal and political intentionality.

Pick up Feminism FOR REAL if you're looking to gain an worthwhile education, and perhaps a bit of critical self-awareness too.

Written by: Mandy Van Deven, April 23rd 2011

Women's History Has Many Points of View

mandy — Sat, 27 Nov 2010 08:00:00 +0000

Interview with RE/VISIONIST

With the question "who gets to write history?" at its center, RE/VISIONIST is an online publication started by a handful of graduate students at Sarah Lawrence College who study women's history. Many historians push to catalog the discipline of history as a pure science, but this group is instead interested in critiquing the supposed objectivity of their discipline, and giving credence to subjective perspectives. Even more, the editors aim to analyze history through the lens of multiple feminisms. I opened a dialogue with one of the editors of RE/VISIONIST, and in true feminist style, she responded to my questions by conducting a roundtable discussion amongst the staff.

How did RE/VISIONIST come about?

Thea Michailides: Sarah Lawrence has a creative, vocal, and lively undergraduate community but—outside of the writing program—there really wasn't a space for graduate students to exchange ideas and feature our work. Roz's idea of establishing a blog or online journal gave us the opportunity to put what we were learning in the classroom to practical use.

Roz Hunter: As students, RE/VISIONIST offers us the opportunity to use an historical lens to examine contemporary issues and serves as an outlet to discuss how gender plays out today. We come from a multitude of educational backgrounds—including Women's Studies, Anthropology, English Literature, Political Science, and Fine Arts—and we aim for an interdisciplinary approach to current events.

Kate Wadkins: I find myself surrounded by a lot of entrepreneurial women who are pursuing their dreams of creative and scholarly work. For a long time, I wished I had access to some kind of publication to pull all this work together. RE/VISIONIST provides a resource for feminist voices.

What pnline spaces embody aspects of what you are trying to achieve?

Nydia Swaby: Racialicious is definitely an example of the kind of work we want to be doing. I also like Paradigm Shift; their tag line—"Use the 'F' word. Discuss. Evolve. Grow with Us. Change NYC. Change the World."—made me feel powerful, and I really enjoy their blog. Equal Writes, which was started by a group of students at Princeton, aims to do something similar to the work we do in saying that Feminism is not a dirty word.

Your publication features issues you see as absent from the larger discourse on women or feminism. How are you attempting to revise, revisit, or re-imagine the historical and contemporary issues you write about?

Nydia: We are reclaiming the notion of revising history not because we want to erase the things that happened in the past, but because we want to build on them. The name was inspired, in part, by a course that all first-year Women’s History Graduate students are required to take at Sarah Lawrence called "Visions/Revisions: Issues in US Women's History.”

Victoria Sollecito: Right, it was an historiography course, and it really pushed us to think about how history gets written and why and by whom and how it changes over time. So revisionist is a dirty word and feminist is a dirty word and we are both! How awesome is that? And we are using feminism as a framework for this re-visioning of history and culture and the media and politics and everything else.

Roz: The discipline of women's history aims to create a re/vision of the past and tell the stories of groups who have been written out of history books. Women's history can serve as a tool to uncover the lost social histories of remarkable individuals and groups who have been previously ignored. We believe that you cannot study history without critically analyzing the roles race, gender, sexuality, religion, ability, age, and class have played, and still play, in it. We strive to make sense of the social hierarchies that have and do exist, and how complex systems of domination (whether it be male domination, racial domination, or class domination) all work together to continue to oppress and marginalize. We aim to uncover lost histories.

Nydia: I became interested in writing about Amy Ashwood Garvey because it really shocked me that she was such an integral part of the Pan-African movement (many have suggested that she was the co-founder of the United Negro Improvement Association), yet you hardly ever find references to her in history books. Writing about her work seemed fitting for RE/VISIONIST because we aim to uncover these kinds of lost histories.

Kate: An exciting discovery I had was reading an excerpt from bell hooks' Feminist Theory: From Margin to Center where she describes challenging the notion of gender-as-the-ultimate-oppression by radical women of color and their White allies as "the basis of revisionist feminist theory." Reading this crucial starting point for intersectional feminist theory as revisionist was both inspiring and solidifying for our mission.

What you think about the term feminism? Is it an important term to use, to interrogate, to dismantle, to celebrate?

Roz: Many of our staff writers and contributors are wary of the term. We do celebrate the word, but we purposely pluralize it in our mission statement. It is very common to hear (White) women criticize the younger generation for not embracing the term, but we have many reasons to reject it. Feminism has had a history of exclusion and many feminist writings, speakers, and activists have used feminism to reinforce the status quo of race and class oppression. Feminism has often meant the promotion of the rights of White women at the expense of the rights of people of color, immigrants, queers, and the poor. We recently posted a quote from Barbara Smith that articulates some of our thoughts on feminism:

Feminism is the political theory and practice that struggles to free all women: women of color, working class women, poor women, disabled women, lesbians, old women—as well as white economically privileged, heterosexual women. Anything less than this vision of total freedom is not feminism but merely female self-aggrandizement.

Thea: The word feminism is important to preserve even though it has the power to be both divisive and galvanizing depending on the characteristics of the audience. I see feminism as a tool for unifying women in an era that encourages individuals to focus on relationships with those who share their unique experiences of oppression along—for example—racial, ethnic, and generational lines. This tactic may aid in revealing spaces where history has been negligent, but it also undermines the potential for unity. Women need to seek appreciation for their shared experiences while learning about those that are specific to their contexts. Feminism, as a word and an idea, offers a means for describing this coalition of sorts.

How do you overcome the exclusionary aspects of academic discourse?

Victoria: We want to move away from a definition of history that restricts the writing of history to senior tenured faculty members in history departments and restricts the subjects of history to dates of battles and the lives of the presidents. It isn't that those things aren't important; it's just that we feel like a twenty-first century visual artist's reflections on gender norms and expectations about sexuality are as important as any textbook.

Kate: Pop culture has its claws on the emerging minds of youth, as well as our psychic selves, and if we don't recognize its importance, we're just limiting our critique. This is a problem that exists in history, in pop culture, and in our lived experience—hence our aim to discuss all of those arenas and not privilege one.

Thea: We cannot avoid that we are engaged in the academic world and are, therefore, privileged no matter how vigilantly we may examine our work and the work of others in RE/VISIONIST. I feel our aim should be to recognize that, even as we try to illuminate the people and experiences traditional history has overlooked, we too are a part of an elite and, as such, may perpetrate similar acts of negligence.

Photo credit: Nydia Swaby

Written by: Lizzy Shramko, November 27th 2010

The Necessity of Climate Change: Women of Color Speak from the Ivory Tower

mandy — Thu, 11 Nov 2010 08:00:00 +0000

Interview with Morgane Richardson

Morgane Richardson graduated from Middlebury College in 2008 feeling that American colleges recruit women of color, but have no idea how to address the issues they face once they are enrolled. As a result, many of these women suffer depression, anxiety, and isolation in silence. Morgane decided to do something about this situation, and less than two years later, she has collected submissions from women all over the country who have had to navigate issues of race, class, and gender at elite, predominately white college campuses. With these stories, Morgane created Refuse the Silence.

Morgane is planning to publish a book and present a report to college administrators with a suggested plan of action to improve the college climate for women of color. In this interview, Morgane discusses the various misconceptions and stereotypes surrounding women of color in academic environments and the ways her website tries to support these women.

How do you determine which submissions should be part of Refuse the Silence?

All of the submissions we receive will be a part of Refuse the Silence; if not in the book, then definitely on our website or in our final report on the status of women of color in elite institutions. The decision about which entries will be reproduced in book format will be made by a handful of people, including the team that is selected to generate our final report, our editors, and the publisher.

What is the most surprising thing you have learned about the concerns of women of color at elite colleges?

To be honest, nothing. Thus far, none of the stories I have heard have been surprising. I know where these students are coming from because I either experienced it myself or know friends who did during their years living on these campuses. What I am really surprised by is the reality that little has changed. Students of color have racial epithets written on their walls every semester. College judicial boards and health centers are inadequately prepared to deal with women who are victims of sexual assault. The list goes on and on.

Are there ways you intend to address the issues of women of color who are neither members of elite academic communities nor part of the academic community?

I chose to focus on women of color in elite academic settings because that is what I know and what I can speak to. That being said, I have found that many of the stories and issues I hear from the women who are sending in submissions can be applied to women of color as a whole. White privilege, interracial dating, and the cost of an education are issues that affect all women of color. And the truth is, as a feminist, I work to give all women of color a voice.

Refuse the Silence is just one project that seeks to empower a specific group of the women of color population. Eventually, my hope is that this model can be used to help a wider demographic of women of color. I just need a lot more time and funding to make it happen.

Given the shortage of women of color as mentors, not only within the academic world but also the corporate world, what is your advice to women who are either in school or graduating looking to connect and learn from other women of color?

My main advice is to share your story! No one will understand what you are going through if you don’t make your voice heard. So many women of color feel as though they must keep their "issues" or experiences to themselves in an attempt to remain strong. Often times young women and men of color see their independent, strong, single mothers push forward without asking for help and grow up believing they must do the same. Refuse the Silence tells women they can also be strong by sharing their stories.

On a more tangible level, I recommend women of color find a mentor with whom they feel comfortable speaking. They can reach out to faculty and staff members, but also to alumni networks. As alums, we understand what they have experienced, and most of us are willing to listen and guide them in whatever direction they choose.

Do you think it is a misconception to believe that minorities in academic settings only want to seek out students within their ethnic or racial group?

Even at a young age there is a natural gravitation amongst people of color towards each other, especially in predominantly White settings. I don’t think there is anything wrong with that, especially when you are assimilating to a White culture, and when you have to be a part of that culture in order to succeed. The reality is, not everyone can survive in a predominantly White, elite, academic institution. On top of the stress of being a woman, searching for your identity, studying, and trying to make friends, people automatically separate you on the basis of your race. That added stress is overwhelming, and while some women of color can survive it, others need the support of a group of people who can understand it.

What are your thoughts on the argument that single-sex and all-Black colleges are no longer needed?

On a personal level I am as weary of an institution that is predominately Black as I am an institution that is predominately White… or an institution that is all-male or all-female. Academia is meant to be a place where you learn about theory and read from textbooks. But it is also a place where you learn about our society and how people function within it. I don’t believe you can obtain an honest and clear understanding of your global community if you are only surrounded by people who share similar experiences or come from a similar background.

That being said, as long as we continue to live in a White, male dominated society, I do believe we need these kinds of institutions. For me, it wasn’t the right setting, but for others, it might be.

What do you say to women of color who are worried that sharing their stories may backfire and hamper their success?

Actually, that is something we are dealing with right now. I recently received an email from a young woman we interviewed last year who has asked us to take down her video entry. She asked us because she is tired of dealing with people in her community who approach her and feel sorry for her after having seen her entry online. This is the first time this has happened with Refuse the Silence, but there are many women of color who decide not to share their stories because they don’t want to deal with the difficult outcome. I think this especially happens in elite institutions where your personal history and resume mean everything.

I recognize that it's a personal decision to fight, and then to fight loudly. But how do we move forward if we are afraid to speak out? How can we expect anyone to listen to us if we don’t say anything?

Based on your research so far, are there resources you recommend to women of color in college that will help them through their college years?

Find your peers and local women of color organizations! If anyone knows about what you are going through, it’s the people around you. I am not that far removed from college, and I remember how difficult it can be to reach out to those communities. So, I also recommend that women of color go online and start using social media to find people who are interested in fighting for a similar cause. There are tons of activists blogging about race and gender. There are feminists on Twitter speaking about women’s rights. And there are professors and heads of large organizations looking to see what is happening in the world. If a story on Refuse the Silence moves you, reach out to me and I will put you in contact with that person.

Many women of color do not identify as feminists. What are your thoughts on this position?

I have always said that I am a Black woman or, more recently, a Black feminist. No matter what my political and social beliefs are, people will always see my race before they see my gender, and that automatically separates me. I am not fighting solely for my freedom to be a woman. I am fighting for my freedom to live equally in this world as a Black woman.

I come from the understanding that feminism is about women and, in theory, should be race-neutral. But it is not. The feminist movement—and I’m sure everyone has heard this a thousand times—is rooted in White, middle class privilege. We live in a racist society, so it should come as no surprise that women of color can feel alienated within feminist groups.

I use this quote often, but I think there is no successful feminist revolution without an end to racism, among other -isms. Not all women can benefit from feminism if those systems are still in place. While I make a conscious decision to incorporate race as part of my identity as a feminist, others choose not to or may not see a reason to. So, to directly and simply answer the question, I understand why some women of color choose to not identify as feminists.

Can you share a personal goal you have and a goal you have for the site in the next year?

I recently made a big move out to Los Angeles, and I am terrified that I will be losing the feminist community I found in New York City. So, my personal goal is to make sure I find, and also create, a strong feminist network here that will provide me the space to continue growing and learning. As for Refuse the Silence, our team is working hard to make the project financially sustainable.

The full interview can be read at The Daily Femme

Written by: Cherie @ The Daily Femme, November 11th 2010

Iona Dreaming: The Healing Power of Place

caitlin — Fri, 22 Oct 2010 00:00:00 +0000

By Clare Cooper Marcus

Red Wheel Weiser

I felt deeply uncomfortable while reading Clare Cooper Marcus’ Iona Dreaming. Too uncomfortable, I thought—like eavesdropping on a stranger’s conversation with a long-lost friend.

Clare Cooper Marcus writes about a six-month, mostly solitary retreat spent on the small Scottish island of Iona. Twice a survivor of cancer, semi-retired academic professor, avid gardener, single mother of two, and author of several books, Marcus removes herself to Iona to focus on healing. In this book, she reflects on that experience and connects it to her wartime childhood spent in the English countryside, her experiences as a young wife and mother, and her cancer diagnoses and treatments. Throughout, Marcus crafts little vignettes and narratives from her adventures on the island, taking us through her brief stint as a waitress in a hotel café, long walks around the entire island, a run-in with bird-watchers, laundry day, and an encounter with the fairies.

If my brief description of the scope of Iona Dreaming leads you to believe it is incoherent, then the fault is my own, not Marcus’ prose. Even though the content of the book spans nearly her entire lifetime, Marcus’ writing conveys quiet and solitude. While reading, I often had the strange feeling that I was inhabiting Marcus’ innermost thoughts.

The intimacy of Marcus’ writing made me very uncomfortable when I first began the book, but by the time I finished it, I was grateful for it. First, I was delighted by the way she writes the island of Iona. Marcus’ academic work focuses on sense of place, and she writes about particular places with sensitivity and conviction. Second, Marcus writes herself with as much openness and sensitivity as she writes about Iona. I thought this an incredible connection and analogy: to think of oneself as a location or as a place.

While reading Iona Dreaming, it occurred to me that it could be very enlightening to consider how one conceives relationships to the external world in light of how one considers relationships to oneself: is the world (or oneself) an undisciplined thing to be mastered, or a natural thing to be appreciated? Feminists have written about the self and feminists have written about nature, but feminist work on place and on self with place could be quite fruitful. Though Marcus doesn’t say much about her relationship to feminism or to feminist thought, her lovely memoir may certainly provoke important feminist work in that area.

Written by: kristina grob, October 21st 2010

Experiments In A Jazz Aesthetic: Art, Activism, Academia, and the Austin Project

admin — Wed, 04 Aug 2010 16:05:00 +0000

Edited by Omi Osun Joni L. Jones, Lisa L. Moore, Sharon Bridgforth

University of Texas Press

In June 2009, I participated in a writing workshop with Sharon Bridgforth, not knowing what to expect and not knowing what I was expected to give. I only knew that I loved music, having already pledged my undying love for jazz at a young age, and that I loved writing; but I never intended to leave with a blueprint for the foundation of how I would put pen to paper from that point on. Since then, my writing has been centered in being present in the here and now, a soulful, deep listening, improvisation (which brings together both the aforementioned), and an integrity that refuses to deviate from what makes up what is known as the jazz aesthetic. It is always a work in progress, as it should be.

According to Austin Project founder Omi Osun Joni L. Jones, director of the John L. Warfield Center for African and African American Studies and Associate Professor of Performance Studies in the Department of Theatre and Dance at the University of Texas at Austin, the Jazz Aesthetic Manifesto “is a way to forestall the erosion of human connection by bringing to voice women of color and those white women who are able to learn the role of allies.” Jazz has always been about being in the moment, listening to oneself and to one’s surroundings, improvisation, and continuous change. Those precepts are among the few that shaped themselves into the manifesto that would become the Austin Project.

The Austin Project (tAP) was started in 2002 with a stone etching that “all women-all people-are inherently creative, are artists in their own right, and that claiming this identity can be transformative for individuals and communities.” It provides a space for women of color and their allies to write and perform in a jazz aesthetic as a strategy for social change, be they writers, performers, doctors, or social workers. It consists of collaborators Lisa L. Moore, Associate Professor of English and Women’s and Gender Studies at University of Texas at Austin, and Sharon Bridgforth, Lambda Literary Award-winning author of the bull-jean stories and love conjure/blues. Mentors and teachers of the women of tAP have included artistic nobility such as Laurie Carlos, Carl Hancock Rux, Virginia Grise, and Daniel Alexander Jones, to name a few.

Not often do I find it difficult to summarize the works of a collective into several hundred words; however, this is one of those times. Experiments in a Jazz Aesthetic includes the works of some of the previously mentioned collaborative artists, as well as a veritable who’s who in all things to do with art, activism, and the academics. Jones wrote that in conceiving the Austin Project, she was trying to save her own life; consequently, many births seem to have taken place, for many artists have birthed a way of creating, organizing, and performing. Whether it is art, activism, or academia—being present, listening, body- centered, true to the both/and instead of the either/or all on an inclusive level all serve as the foundation with which to maintain the integrity of the jazz aesthetic. It is always a work in progress, as it should be.

Written by: Olupero R. Aiyenimelo, August 4th 2010

A Decade of Negative Thinking: Essays on Arts, Politics, and Daily Life

admin — Sat, 15 May 2010 16:01:00 +0000

By Mira Schor

Duke University Press

A Decade of Negative Thinking is a collection of essays on feminism, paintings, and feminist art history. As a teacher of graduate students, Schor’s experience provides us with practical and theoretical background to an artist’s commitment to contemporary art.

The main theme of the study encompasses the ideas and images from Schor’s earlier life that were significant in influencing her artistic direction. The underlying theme explores the ways in which the past is perceived either consciously or subconsciously by people, and how easily it is to be misguided when forming our current views and opinions because of the undue influence of past styles. The artist writes as a New Yorker because she considers this city to be the center of the world art market, and an inspiring place from which to observe contemporary art and culture.

In part one, "She Said, She Said: Feminist Debates, 1971-2009," Schor describes debates on feminism and feminist art in a number of symposia, art magazine forums, and conferences over the years. Initially, as one of the chapter titles states, "The –ism Did Not Dare Speak Its Name" refers to the many academic –isms theories such as modernism, postmodernism, feminism, and post-structuralism. But later in “Generation 2.5,” the focus is on a community of women artists who had ideals about the feminist art movement, and who followed their direction during difficult times. They challenged the notion of a canon in art production and the cult of celebrity in contemporary culture.

In part two, "Painting," Schor analyzes the production of art history from a feminist perspective. She concentrates on the works of Alica Neel, an abstract painter who created Two Girls. Spanish Harlem (1959), Dore Ashton (1952), and Self Portrait (1980). She also considers works by Lisa Yuskavage and Myron Stout.

In part three, "Trite Tropes," Schor presents her views on common themes in art that are popular among college students and practitioners of the avant garde academy. Schor claims that art education is inadequate or even non-existent. She also asserts that practical visual contact by students with the artists themselves would help to clarify some misconceptions on art. As the writer explains, “negative thinking may indicate more of a programmatic belief in modernist ideas of resistance via that methodology of negative dialectics than is actually in play.”

Schor would like to see art works discussed and analyzed even if that analysis may be negative from the point of view of the art market. She clearly believes in the power of art despite all odds. This hope can empower our thinking and our actions. Schor vigorously researched her topic and included visual images of paintings in her book, which contributed to the visual pleasure of her narrative. I found her essays engaging and appealing, mostly because of Schor’s anecdotes and the choice of her personal stories; however, I needed a few breaks in the reading of her theoretical background, as some of the essays require extreme concentration on the part of the reader.

Overall, Schor, who is also a painter and writer, creates a very witty, brave, carefully designed, in-depth study on the question of politics and aesthetics in the contemporary world.

Written by: Anna Hamling, May 15th 2010

Love the Questions: University Education and Enlightenment

admin — Tue, 23 Mar 2010 16:02:00 +0000

By Ian Angus

Arbeiter Ring Publishing

In Love the Questions, Ian Angus attempts to document the evolution of the university as a social institution, the problems presented by recent shifts in the structure and funding of the modern university, and possible solutions that will allow for modernization without the loss of the university’s most vital traditional roles. While stories of the decline of social institutions are far older than the university itself, Angus does an extraordinarily good job of demonstrating that there is a real loss involved in the corporatization of the university and the commodification of both university credentials and knowledge itself.

What is the purpose of a university education? Should it provide job training, enlightenment, or both? How does the withdrawal of public funding and the increasing dependence on private interests affect the university’s ability to provide unified knowledge to its students and a critical viewpoint to society at large? How does the loss of the university’s independence from the capitalist marketplace undermine the academic freedom and flexibility that previous generations of scholars and students could expect? What role is left for the university in the new networked society where the university library is no longer the vital, centralized repository of knowledge and information? What is lost when the new corporate model replaces scholarly professorships with low-wage teaching positions detached from the research and publication that once characterized academia? These are but a few of the vital questions Angus asks on our behalf.

In an age where the value and purposes of post-secondary education and just how much of it will be available and to whom are matters of ongoing controversy, Angus is by far not the first to raise these issues. However, the context and perspective he brings to the questions are interesting and refreshing, though a bit depressing at times. While reading this book, I found myself reflecting on my own college days and how much I value the experiences that current and future college students may never have. I wonder how alien these young students’ perspectives would be to my own as a young college student.

Like Angus, I question what becomes of those who receive job training at the exclusion of an opportunity to enlighten themselves, and what becomes of a society that doesn’t offer its young people the chance to really engage the broad knowledge of the ages rather than simply assimilating the current state of a narrow field. What happens when our horizons are limited to their market value? In the end, Angus does offer some hope that we can preserve some of the best of the past as we adapt to modern circumstances, but each possible solution will require a kind of commitment that may be impossible in today's cynical, commodified world. Let’s hope not.

Whatever relationship an individual reader may have to university education, Love the Questions has something to offer, even if that something doesn’t involve the final answers to the ultimate questions.

Written by: Melinda Barton, March 23rd 2010

The Fat Studies Reader

admin — Fri, 19 Mar 2010 16:01:00 +0000

Edited by Esther Rothblum, Sondra Solovay

NYU Press

The Fat Studies Reader is a collection of groundbreaking essays in this interdisciplinary field. The book is divided into six sections that include a historical overview of fatness, fat studies in health and medicine, social inequality, discrimination in popular culture, and embracing fatness.

The Fat Studies Reader argues that size-ism is unacceptable and that fat phobia exists both in popular culture and in the medical industry. The writers assert that instead of “combating obesity” and medicalizing fatness, our culture should recognize that people can be healthy or unhealthy at all weights. Being fat should not be seen as a personal failing, and oppression and ridicule of fat people should not be acceptable in popular culture.

As a graduate student who has done quite a bit of reading in the field of public health and diet-related chronic disease, I admit to being somewhat skeptical about the nonchalant attitude some of the writers have toward the relationship between obesity and health, particularly in Paul Ernsberger's essay “Does Social Class Explain the Connection Between Weight and Health?” Ernsberger argues that the widespread belief that being poor puts one at risk for obesity is wrong, and makes a somewhat astonishing claim that “a stronger case can be made for converse: fatness is impoverishing.” Ernsberger’s argument counters abundant research that has shown the relationship between low socioeconomic status, obesity, and diet-related diseases.

Even though I disagreed with many of the essays in the “Fat Studies in Health and Medicine” section, I found much of interest in this volume. The essays about portrayals of fatness and race in popular culture were particularly instructive. The Fat Studies Reader is very likely to challenge readers’ preconceptions, regardless of the open mindedness they may bring to the book. Exploring unexamined assumptions is a very important accomplishment of this collection.

Written by: Liz Simmons, March 19th 2010

Sexualities Special issue: "Researching and Teaching the Sexually Explicit: Ethics, Methodology and Pedagogy"

admin — Tue, 19 Jan 2010 01:00:00 +0000

Edited by Feona Attwood, I.Q. Hunter

Sage Publications

I am just about to begin teaching a new course in Human Sexuality, so I was excited to review this special issue of Sexualities, the UK-published journal that features new and different voices from sexology, gender studies, and cultural studies. Each of the eight original essays provides teachers, activists and researchers with much-needed breathing space. As Attwood and Hunter point out, “The emergence of ‘porn studies’ in academic institutions has been met with widespread ethical and political opposition, even more so than the study of horror films. Sex media, rather like horror films in fact, are often seen as intrinsically obscene and harmful, effecting real changes in behaviour and attitude, and therefore potentially damaging to researchers and students.” Not so, say the contributors, at least not necessarily so. Porn appears now to be as central to our culture as its study has become prominent to academia.

The collection brings together theorists, educators, and activists from or working in the U.S. (Dennis Waskul), Finland (Susanna Paasonen), Hong Kong (Katrien Jacobs), Australia (Alan McKee, Kath Albury), and the U.K. (Brian McNair, Clarissa Smith, Steve Jones, Sharif Mowlabocus, Feona Attwood, and I.Q. Hunter).

The essays of Waskul, Smith, and McNair will embolden teachers to embrace new media technologies and push the envelope of eroticism in the classroom. Jones and Mowlabocus remind readers that punishing those who enjoy violent depictions of sexuality and/or who sexualize depictions of violence “does not eradicate or significantly hinder the production of such material” but does complicate things for scholars and teachers.

Katrien Jacobs examines the Hong Kong celebrity entertainer Edison Chen, whose DIY pornography made with other Chinese celebrities was inadvertently leaked to the press (darn those computer repairmen!) and led to mass hand-wringing. Paasonen details “something of a porn renaissance” that occurred in late 1990s Finland. Depictions of human sexuality had been regulated since the 1920s until this shift which enabled a wholesale mainstreaming of porn in Finland and other Nordic countries.

Kath Albury trades on her experiences from 2001 to 2003 as the Chief Investigator of the Australian Research Council-funded project, “Understanding Pornography in Australia.” Albury’s first-rate critical reading of porn debates (in this case, in feminist circles) shows that few voices, however radical or conservative, manage to escape the restraints of moralism.

Alan McKee’s “Social Scientists Don’t Say ‘Titwank’” looks at how referees for journals in the humanities and social sciences have responded to his manuscripts about sex. He concludes that “in the humanities there is no longer a problem with the use of vulgar language.” Nevertheless, his essay reveals sharp differences in method, theory, and work-style between practitioners of cultural studies and anthropology. One statement really rankled me: “We surveyed over 1000 consumers of pornography as part of our research. In the correct social science manner, I will now claim this [sic] data as objective.” Other statements in this and other essays, such as “Older respondents had worse attitudes towards women . . . Christians had worse attitudes towards women . . . Those who lived in rural areas had worse attitudes . . .” made me long for the more fine-grained nuances of ethnographic writing about sex, sexuality, and sexual networking. Then again, few ethnographers are doing porn studies or pushing the erotic envelope in the classroom, so readers will find much else of great merit in McKee’s essay and the others.

Given the brevity and accessibility of these eight exciting contributions (not forgetting the six fine book reviews), this newest issue of Sexualities is an especially welcome resource for educators.

Written by: Lawrence James Hammar, Ph.D., January 18th 2010

Black and Green: Afro-Colombians, Development, and Nature in the Pacific Lowlands

admin — Sun, 06 Dec 2009 16:56:00 +0000

By Kiran Asher

Duke University Press

Black and Green is a publication based on Kiran Asher’s doctoral thesis in political science, a field she came to by ways of a masters in Environmental Management and much field experience in Costa Rica, Belize, China, and now Colombia. It is her contact with local people that let Asher to want to explore the link between environmental management and society, and her passion for both of these areas of investigation is well displayed in this book.

Throughout Black and Green, one finds passages where the author speaks of her connection with people involved in the Afro-Colombian movement, a concrete connection made through relationships forged during field work with the people she is writing about. Asher’s book not only examines a little-known area of research (resource management in the Colombian Pacific Lowlands on the west coast) but also gives a voice to a people (Afro-Colombians) who have had problems getting their voice heard in their own country and on their continent, let alone to a wider English-speaking audience.

Research in both of these fields is only recent. African slaves and their descendants have inhabited the Pacific coast area for almost as long as the Spanish colonizers. However, the acknowledgment of a distinct Afro-Colombian identity and the development of a national Afro-Colombians movement have only arisen in the last thirty years. Similarly, in a part of the country which has largely been forgotten by national (and often nonexistent) environmental policies—and despite being home to a unique biodiversity—the development of ecological strategies is also quite novel. Both of these issues, as Asher points out, are inextricably linked, and thus the correlation of these issues in her study.

Asher is a privileged witness (and occasional, often reluctant participant) to the process she is analyzing. She frequently employs firsthand accounts of the meetings she attends and the people she meets, something that transforms Black and Green into an interesting narrative of Asher’s own involvement with/in the identity she is studying (something she is very conscious of and recognizes the ambiguities of). The author does not shy away from exposing underlying issues relevant to the construction of her text; this is especially true in the last chapter where she deals with the thorny problem of Colombia’s last few decades and specifically the guerrilla and paramilitary presence in the region she deals with.

Chapter 4, on Afrocolombianas (Afro-Colombian women), is one of the shortest, but one which could have been developed into its own book. Asher’s meaningful connection with the Afrocolombianas is evident in this chapter and her writing at its strongest. She accentuates the implication of Afrocolombianas in the environmental policies movement and establishes the importance of their mobilization for the larger identity and environmental movements.

Overall, Black and Green is an engaging study that signifies a defining moment for academic studies about both Afro-Colombians and nature in Latin America.

Written by: Sophie M. Lavoie, December 6th 2009

"What is an Apparatus?" and Other Essays

admin — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 00:44:00 +0000

By Giorgio Agamben

Stanford University Press

"What Is an Apparatus?" and Other Essays, is a collection of three essays by the Italian philosopher Giorgio Agamben. Although only fifty pages, this collection is quite difficult for the reader unfamiliar with Agamben's work.

In the first essay, “What is an Apparatus,” the author engages with Foucault’s concept of the apparatus (_dispositif _in French). Defining the meaning of apparatus is one of the main points of the essay and difficult to convey here, but to give a brief definition, it is what Foucault conceptualized as a network established between various forms of power, institutions, and ideologies. Agamben outlines a genealogy of the evolution of Foucault’s interest and utilization of this concept, arguing that it is one of his most essential. He also expands the definition of an apparatus to include “anything that has in some way the capacity to capture, orient, determine, intercept, model, control, or secure the gestures, behaviors, opinions, or discourses of living beings.” Agamben then briefly provides suggestions as to how we should attempt to combat apparatuses, given the fact that they are so ubiquitous at this stage of history.

The second essay, “The Friend,” is about the philosophy of friendship and the way that philosophers have tended to theorize friendship. “What is the Contemporary?” is the third and final essay, and ultimately deals with the task of trying to understand the meaning of time.

Agamben has written on a variety of issues, and has been an especially harsh critic of the U.S. response to 9/11, particularly speaking out against the U.S. treatment of prisoners. He also provides an interesting critique of modern society as a whole, continuing in the Foucauldian tradition. Although this collection of essays isn’t necessarily suitable as an introductory text, the reader who is unfamiliar with Agamben is likely to appreciate some of his insights, particularly those who have read Foucault and are familiar with other classic philosophers.

Written by: Liz Simmons, November 13th 2009

Crossing Washington Square

admin — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 16:31:00 +0000

By Joanne Rendell

NAL

Some novels are quite naturalistic, but toy with magic realism. This book is the reverse: a charming, modern fairytale that just happens to have been liberally sprinkled with astute observations about life in the English Literature department of a large university.

Crossing Washington Square is a neatly crafted and satisfying story of two literature professors who approach their places within academia from different angles. Along the way, they have romantic encounters with several men in their faculty. Each woman’s very credible musings regarding these relationships are skillfully interwoven with comically awkward confrontations in and around the department. I easily related to the younger professor’s gaffes and passionate arguments as she settles into her new job. Author Joanne Rendell’s own teaching experiences are palpable in her excruciating descriptions of lackluster undergrads, interminable meetings and daunting responsibilities. I even felt a little guilty and a lot nostalgic about my own first year at New York University.

I’m sure the romantic entanglements are meant to be the focus and the academic arguments the subplot, but the heated debates about the pros and cons of critically examining ‘chick lit’ vs. ‘great lit’ from a feminist perspective were unique, and grabbed me from the first chapter. This topic is one of Rendell’s pet passions, and she writes from a cheeky and knowing place; she argues both sides in the voices of each of the co-protagonists with comic finesse.

While reading, I felt both admonished by the junior professor for dismissing Bridget Jones's Diary, and vindicated when the tenured professor counters that chick lit propagates sexist stereotypes. The whole controversy became so meta on page 199 that I laughed out loud: the young professor (with whom Rendell admits she identifies in the appended "conversation guide'"included in all NAL editions) says modern popular fiction shares commonalities with great books, and numbers the reasons!

She comes out in favor of books that are 1) memoirs loosely disguised as fiction, and 2) stories of young, clever women coming of age in the city. By that rationale, Crossing Washington Square itself gets to join the collection of worthy contemporary reads that reference the historical canon, and I suspect Rendell could defend this theory with poise and aplomb in front of the harshest of crit panels.

It’s hard to read a book that encourages literary criticism: I found myself looking more critically at this novel than I normally would. I tripped over a few clunky similes that interrupted evocative (and quite filmic. Hollywood, if you're listening...) descriptions of Greenwich Village, Bloomsbury, and both Sohos. Rendell, who is originally from the UK but has settled in the U.S., often puts British phrasing in the American characters’ mouths and toys with New York vernacular. The use of schlep in the narration didn't ring true to this New Yorker’s ears.

Last bone to pick with this otherwise highly likable novel: I could have done without the action taking place at so-called Manhattan U—that was a fantasy too far. We all know that NYU is the huge university on Washington Square. Can’t miss it. It’s a shame we live in such a litigious world that readers, writers, and publishers seem to have agreed to this particular contrivance.

Before I started reading, I was more on the side of the old school academics who are pitted against the Bridget Jones lovers as the backdrop of the book. The endearingly flawed characters and a well-crafted story won me over. I thoroughly enjoyed entering the world of this urban and urbanely written tale and look forward to Rendell's next novel.

Written by: Chella Quint, October 19th 2009

On Joanna Russ

admin — Tue, 07 Jul 2009 17:13:00 +0000

Edited by Farrah Mendlesohn

Wesleyan University Press

Last summer, in an effort to learn more about female writers of speculative fiction (SF), I read Charlotte Spivack’s Merlin’s Daughters. While the majority of the book was a rather boring summary of what the aforementioned "daughters" had written, the introduction posited that all speculative fiction has subversive possibilities. After all, the author is imagining a new world and probably one structured by a new social order, right? Not necessarily.

In Farrah Mendlesohn’s On Joanna Russ, the reader finds that in mid-century American SF, only some ideas are subject to question, and that pioneers like Russ were marginalized, or ignored. In the first part of the book, “Criticism and Community,” contributors discuss the relationship between Russ and the SF community, including readers, prominent editors and other writers, as well as her place as an academic. For example, as Russ moves toward a more feminist perspective, she writes to a popular publication about the lack of female characters in most SF novels.

The responses were many and varied, but a prominent colleague took it on himself to 'set her straight'. It was not sexism that kept female characters out of SF, he said; it was the “cerebral plots” that did not necessitate a “love interest.” On Joanna Russ paints the picture of a female writer forced by workplace bottom-pinching and literary marginalization to explain feminism over and over again to both men and women. Responding to Kate Wilhelm, who said she champions equal rights but is not a feminist, Russ noted, “It’s funny, really; having disclaimed feminism, you go on to define it.”

The second part of the book focuses on Russ’ fiction. Contributors here discuss how Russ’ work shows a synthesis of second and third wave feminisms, the necessity of violence for Russ’ protagonists, and the recurrent themes of lesbianism and homosocial bonds. This discussion is interwoven with the relationship of her writing to the work of Hélène Cixous, Mina Loy, Mikhail Bakhtin, and others. In her fiction, Russ defines, expands, and subverts the “feminine utopia” and visions of women as “good”, i.e., not violent or sexual.

I came away from On Joanna Russ with a huge to-read list, including titles by Russ and important works by feminist writers. This book is a must-read for a student of SF, female writers and academics, or any feminist who has forgotten how close the isolation of the twentieth century is at our heels. I was struck by how far we have come from bottom-pinching in the academy, but also how much still has to be done to create a culture where writing by and about women flourishes. Russ herself says in "How to Suppress Women’s Writing":

When the memory of one’s predecessors is buried, the assumption persists that there were none, and each generation of women believes itself to be faced with the burden of doing everything for the first time… without models, it’s hard to work; without a context, difficult to evaluate; without peers, nearly impossible to speak.

Sadly, according to contributor Graham Sleight, as of 2008, says many of her books are out of print, forcing contemporary readers to track her down in used books stores and libraries. It’s well worth the hunt: her work was crucial to the shape of contemporary SF.

Written by: H. V. Cramond, July 7th 2009

A Garland of Feminist Reflections: Forty Years of Religious Exploration

admin — Mon, 22 Jun 2009 09:35:00 +0000

By Rita M. Gross

University of California Press

Preeminent feminist Buddhism scholar Rita M. Gross’ A Garland of Feminist Reflections is an indispensable collection of her best collected writing from the past forty years. Drawing together theory, philosophy, and religious exploration, Gross’ self-selected anthology is deeply thought provoking and can serve as an introduction to her vital scholarship, or a necessary refresher on important concepts and ideas. Among the pieces she chose, Gross included several groundbreaking essays on methodology and theory. The collection also includes large sections of Gross’ writing on feminist theology and Buddhist feminism.

Gross’ writing is strikingly beautiful, though it is also a dense read—and a complicated one—for anyone not already deeply engaged with comparative religious studies or knowledgeable about Buddhism and gender in an academic framework. This isn’t a criticism, but speaks to Gross’ passionate relationship with her work. Some essays, such as “What Went Wrong? Feminism and Freedom from the Prison of Gender Roles,” offer more accessible insight into how gender affects our very existence. Thirty years after the beginning of the second wave of feminism, Gross argues that in many ways, we are no better off than we were before. Still confined to the prison of gender roles, we’ve only become more appreciative of the male gender and increasingly more competitive and materialistic than before.

While Gross’ academic work is reason enough to pick up this collection, the personal essay, which begins the book, highlights the unique challenges she continues to face as the most renowned feminist Buddhist theologian of our time. An introspective woman from a conservative home in Wisconsin, who came of age in the 1950s, Gross is the unlikeliest of comparative religious scholars. Her deeply moving personal essay, “How Did This Ever Happen To Me?” is heart wrenching and inspiring in its detail of her battles against the male-dominated academy, small school academics uninterested in intellectual debate, and a world simply unable to understand a radically peaceful woman much more interested in cultivating her mind than anything that could grow in her womb.

Written by: Brittany Shoot, June 22nd 2009

Sex Work and the City: The Social Geography of Health and Safety in Tijuana, Mexico

admin — Sun, 31 May 2009 23:27:00 +0000

By Yasmina Katsulis

University of Texas Press

Most studies of prostitution still focus on the supply side: the women and girls, the boys and men, and the transgender and transsexual people who toil sexually to survive, meet temporary needs, and thrive. An increasing number of studies focus on the demand side: the direct consumers and the globalizing forces that bring them together. Carved down from what was probably a fine Ph.D. dissertation, and founded upon eighteen months of ethnographic fieldwork that she conducted in Tijuana, Mexico, Yasmina Katsulis’s lively and accessible Sex Work and the City does one better. In only eight chapters and 174 pages, interspersed with field-note entries and arresting photos—for example, a family united in picnic but separated by a fence—she also explores the physicians who under- and over-diagnose STDs, the policemen who extort sexual favors, and the many agents who facilitate and profit from the sexual labor of others.

Ethnographic, archival, and other data show that Tijuana’s sex industry is fed by gringo and Mexican male migrant laborers who come and go—the causes and symptoms of staggering degrees of human migration and mobility. I appreciate her caveat about the necessity of squarely confronting centuries-old stigmas of prostitution. Throughout the book, she opposes an epidemiology and popular culture that systematically misrepresents by underestimating the HIV and STD transmissive risks of sex in, or on the way to, marriage. Katsulis demonstrates not just why, but literally how, prostitution’s labor forms and venues structure health and social risks.

She also explores the motivations for entering into, and the various outcomes of sexual labor by contrasting legal, registered sex work with that which is informal and illegal. Her analysis of the Tijuana Regulatory Model of policing and health inspection of The Body Prostitute highlights police extortion and the health and social hierarchies of strip clubs, brothels, alleyways, massage parlors, beaches, and forlorn places. The social and economic contradictions in Tijuana of skin color, gender identity, language, socioeconomic class, and ethnicity produce differing degrees of health, social, and legal hazard.

Apart from a few minor quibbles (her use of the illogical term “HIV/AIDS infection,” the sometimes interchangeable use of “sex workers” and “prostitutes”), Katsulis neglects to point out that pimping is the world’s oldest profession, not prostitution. Some of her claims—for example, regarding the general absence of pimping in Tijuana—are insufficiently grounded in historical, sociological, and ethnographic studies by Schifter, Wardlow, Kulick, Schoepf, Leonard, White, and me. I enjoyed her remarks about sexual praxis, but there was surprisingly little discussion of the tensions between sexual positionality and sexual and gender identity. Her take on “the prostitution debates” in feminism is only three pages in length. She devotes one sentence to what she takes to be one side of the ledger—“Some feminists argue that legalization of sex work serves to normalize and institutionalize the sexual exploitation of women”—which really irked me. The ensuing discussion morphs quickly into yet another Straw Woman argument about “western White feminists.” Katsulis offered her key informants free HIVab tests, but fails to mention IRB concerns and the availability of trained counselors, confirmatory assays, and antiretroviral or other therapies. Finally, the absence of a discussion of religion beyond cultural codes of macho and marianismo precludes her from analyzing a profoundly good example of a marriage:prostitution dialectic par excellence.

These criticisms aside, Katsulis has contributed a polished, well-written, vibrant, and much-needed book. I hope the university press issues a cheaper paperback edition (lower than the $50 hardcover price) so that it may be used in courses in anthropology, gender studies, and public health.

Written by: Lawrence James Hammar, Ph.D., May 31st 2009