Important post by Annaham. Read it.

I very rarely have the energy to write a whole blog post, to respond to comments, or, hell, to comment on other blogs with wit and insight. This does not mean that I do not exist. It only means that I, quite simply, don’t always have the mental or physical energy to contribute to a medium that is, by and large, designed in favor of the non-disabled.

[...]

I often cannot keep up with a ’sphere in which other voices–more able voices–have the luxury of time and actual emotional/physical energy to blog. The conspiracy theorist in me wants to chalk this up to the blogosphere’s–and to a lesser extent, the internet’s–design as yet another space where able-bodied folks can “fit,” and can be “productive” in terms of number and quality of posts. For all the talk of the internet as a utopia where one is free to not be embodied, the same old shit seems to keep coming up, along with the big ol’ Cthuluphant in the room: that the world is designed for able-bodied (and preferably white, straight, middle-class, and male) individuals. Productivity, fitting in, responding quickly: These are things that non-able-bodied folks may not be able to do, whether because of issues of time, energy, ease of access, or many other factors….

I am one of those rare creatures who is pissed off when a man holds open a door for me – in certain circumstances.

See, I hold doors open for everybody. I make a point of it. I think it’s just a nice thing to do. But I notice it plays out a couple ways:

Script #1.

Me: [opens the door for a woman]
Woman: [smiles, or says] Thanks! [and walks through door]

Script #2.

Me: [opens the door for a man]
Man: [stops in his tracks]
Me: [smiles, nods in recognition]
Man: [puts arm on door behind me, stands in place waiting for me to go in, perhaps saying] You don’t have to do that! [or] Oh, let me get that for you!
Me: [frustrated, but smiles, says] Thanks! [or nods in recognition as she walks through door]

A few men will follow Script #1, and it usually makes my day when they do. But no woman has ever followed Script #2. I suspect this is for two reasons: one, women are afraid to violate another person’s personal space, presuming they hardly have any right to the space they’re in themselves; two, men see a woman performing a man’s job and presume to take over it for her, thinking this the kind and proper thing to do.

And Script #2 bugs the living hell out of me. I am trying to do a nice thing for you, like leaving a seat vacant on the bus so no one who needs it has to ask someone to move for them, or offering a drink to any person visiting your home, or leaving space for the car in the next lane with their blinker on to merge into your tightly-packed lane. This nice thing is not predicated on your race, gender, physical ability or presumed class. It is predicated on the idea that if we all do nice things for each other once in awhile, the world becomes a much nicer place to live.

But the person in Script #2 does not see things this way. The person in Script #2 thinks that I, a weakly woman, am only holding open that door reluctantly, just waiting for some strong man to relieve me of the awful burden of gripping a door handle or strategically placing my hip or foot in front of the open door. I would be ever so insulted were he to simply accept an offered favor and walk through the door, perhaps with a nod or smile acknowledging the favor. It is his sworn duty to nobly take upon himself this burden, doing for me a great deed and leaving me eternally obligated.

Or, you know, not. Because it’s just a door, not the cure for fucking cancer.

Bonus:: when a male friend insists on paying for your meal. It’s ok to counteroffer once, and only once. As in: 1) I pull out my card; 2) you say “No, no, it’s on me;” 3) I say “No, that’s alright, but thanks!” and 4) you leave it the hell at that. You do not continue to insist on the matter. One offer is broad generosity. Double insistence is presumption and paternalism. There is no reason to offer more than once if the offer comes from pure generosity and not internalized misogyny. Period.

The still-excellent abbyjean (I continue to face a frustrating dilemma: too many good blogs, too little time to keep up with them all) wrote the following on the AIG resignation letter recently featured in the NY Times, and I thought it was well worth highlighting here.

i’ve been thinking a lot about the letter from the guy resigning from AIG that was in the nytimes earlier this week. since my first reaction was white hot incandescent anger, i’ve been trying to sort out what about it made me so upset in a way that could be typed into tumblr instead of just screaming incoherently.

some salient points from the letter:

• he was not involved in the problematic transactions that AIG was a part of and is proud of the work he did for the company
• even after the company was in trouble, he continued on out of a combination of a sense of duty and sacrifice and reliance on ongoing promises that his ongoing work would be rewarded
• he came up from nothing through hard work and dedication
• he feels that company management realized they were in trouble and they still made assurances to staff that they’d be ok and be compensated
• now the company is acting unfairly in asking employees to return their bonuses.

let’s compare AIG man’s situation to this NASCAR mechanic who was laid off.

• he was proud of the work he did and was not involved in the problematic sponsorship decision that created financial problems for his team
• even after the team was in trouble, he continued on out of a sense of loyalty and trust, as well as assurances that his ongoing work would be rewarded
• he came up from nothing through hard work and dedication
• he suspects that company management realized they were in trouble and did not warn staff
• now he’s fired and has no money.

or compare to practically any employee who has gotten laid off during the economic downturn. all of whom are in nearly identical positions. the only difference is the arrogance mr AIG man displays in thinking that because he worked hard and didn’t do anything wrong, he should be totally safe and adequately compensated for that work. why does he think the 5 million people who lost their jobs over the past 12 months became unemployed – because they weren’t working hard? because they engaged in fraud or bad behavior? they deserved to lose their jobs?

Will someone buy this for me?

Look, the fuss around whether race is a feminist issue (not just race, but race is a particular sore spot) boils down to this.

When people ask

“Why is X a feminist issue?”

what they’re really asking is

“Why should I care?”

I’m sorry. There’s no way to get around it.

The following is for my fellow white chicks. Bear with me, everyone.

If you are committed to feminist activism, what you are committed to is a framework of social justice built around gender. Right? You with me? What you care about is, specifically, women. But more broadly — stay with me here — what you care about is justice.

Right?

Gender is the organizing concept for you, most likely, because you are a woman. Ya? The way society organizes itself around gender makes you particularly aware of its effects, and that sparked your interest in this activism.

But that is just fucking ridiculous. Yeah, you’re a woman. But you’re also white. Why doesn’t that make you particularly aware of the way society structures itself around race? I’ll bet you don’t think men are ungendered — come on. So why aren’t you also dripping with race? Why isn’t race your organizing concept?

I’ll let you think for a while on that.*

Really: Why isn’t it worth your time to consider race in the same frame of mind you consider gender? Do you think that because you are white, it doesn’t affect you? I beg to differ! And I’ll bet you think men are negatively affected by society’s gendered structure too.

Do you think that there is nothing to learn, no benefit gain, for you or anyone else, from entering a framework other people have built, which doesn’t center around your world? Do you think it will have no relevance to your own life? Do you think it will have no relevance to your own activism?

Why is it that you have to be cajoled into showing some fucking respect for anything that doesn’t revolve around you and your experience?

You care about justice — right? Isn’t that, ultimately, what it comes down to? If you agree, then why are you putting up such a fight? What are you fighting for?

This is what I think.

Feminism is a framework dedicated to social justice, built around examining… let’s leave that blank for a moment.

Feminism is a framework dedicated to social justice.

Feminism cares about every person, no matter their (blank).

Feminism says, you deserve good, because you are a human being.

Feminism says, (blank) should not affect whether or not you receive that good, and we will fight to ensure that.

Feminism wants every person to be treated with respect, to be allowed dignity, autonomy, and self-actuation, on the basis of their shared humanity — and nothing else.

Now, to fill in that blank: feminism is a framework dedicated to social justice, built around examining gender.

But gender is not the only social construction thrust upon your unsuspecting self.

If it is the only one you see — or the one you see most clearly –there may just be a reason for this.

Has to do with social construction n stuff.

That’s all for now, folks.

—————————————————————————————

* BONUS. It killed the flow, but it’s important.

Consider also these: are you straight? younger in age? able-bodied? middle class or higher? If so: why haven’t you devoted your energies to activism built around age? sexuality? ability? Anything? — Beuller?

Is it because you don’t think those things really apply to you? But come on — you don’t think men are ungendered. So why aren’t you also dripping with these things? Why aren’t they your organizing concept?…

“I think we need to get away from the idea that an ally is an identity and think of it as work that you are doing.”

I’ve said it before: There is no such thing as “a racist.” There are people who hold racist attitudes and do racist things.

And I think it’s useful here to frame ally work the same way. You are not an ally. You are a person who is doing ally work.

This — sorry for the sexist language (see there?) — completely castrates the immediate defense mechanism that is triggered in whomever may feel accused by a statement of racist (sexist, ageist, etc.) action: “But I’m not a racist.” What people are really getting at when they say this is: you are making a statement about my character.

Of course, the conversation about whether or not so-and-so is a Good Person or not is a lot easier for that person to argue than is the conversation about whether something they did is harmful to someone else. Easier on their ego, at least.

And that’s why it happens. It happens every damn time. And it’s an understandable reaction, to some extent. But when the conversation about the racist action stops there, that’s when it stops being a normal, human reactions and starts being obstructive, unproductive, harmful.

Which is why we really, really need to work on reframing the conversation. And by “we”? I mean white people. White people, and men, and straight folk, and the fully-abled, and Westerners, and other holders of various sorts of privilege. Not the people who are lacking in that privilege.

And in this hubbub about who is or isn’t an ally: we need to understand the conversation the same way. It’s not about who you are. It’s about what you do.

(Quote from Lynn’s comment at Feministe.)

Why it’s important to make a concerted effort to promote historically-un(der)represented classes. You can’t flick a switch and have equality instantly turn on. Even if discrimination ceased to exist instantly, it would still take time to catch up — today’s chemistry-minded three-year-old girls aren’t going to reach the upper echelons of the field for at least another few decades yet. Of course, prejudice doesn’t instantly disappear simply because the law forbids certain manifestations of it in certain settings. So we reach a point where we’re looking to fill President Obama’s cabinet, but the levels from which such people would be pulled are still disproportionately dominant-class folk. This is where it does become worthwhile to pick Ms. Smith over Mr. Doe, even when they are very similarly qualified, simply for the fact that Ms. Smith is a woman.

What the bloggy left don’t understand about Obama’s approach to politics. It’s something I’ve always admired about his judgment. He will make a good-faith effort to work with his opposition to get done what needs done. But if that opposition responds to his good-faith effort with a bad faith effort, he will unapologetically move forward without them. Here’s one reason why this is a Good Thing: it’s a tactical investment. It builds trust in the broader community and fosters relationships with those members of the opposition who might be won over in the future. That’s a worthwhile investment to make, I think.

The consequences of our market-worship culture. What, exactly, makes a standard of living? Is it the fancy consumer goods we all have? A car for every person, a flat-screen TV in every house and a smartphone in every palm? Or is it something else? The security of a stable neighborhood, quality health care that isn’t a hassle, and a good education for your child even if you can’t afford the cost of living in the ritziest districts? These are things the private sector simply don’t excel at.

Self-care is essential. I do not use this word lightly. If these is anything my condition has taught me, it is the importance of learning one’s own boundaries and one’s own needs, and respectfully tending to them. Without this, you aren’t going to be any good to anybody else. You’re going to be more help to someone if you’re doing well yourself. If you’re rushed, stressed, overwhelmed with anxiety, severely lacking in sleep, seriously emotionally preoccupied, down with the flu, whatever — you’re allowed to stop and take care of yourself before you continue your work. Why do we insist that we push forward, always, through whatever challenges we may face? There can be virtue in that. But there can also be folly. I think this is a cultural force that could use some reflection.

After the reaction to a certain post of mine, I think this advice from Jill would be well-heeded in a variety of situations:

I understand that men are in an uncomfortable position when an abortion story is dropped into date conversation. Abortion is socially marked as taboo and horrible and universally emotionally difficult, so I understand why the first reaction is “You poor thing” or “You’re so strong.” I’ve never been in the same position as the author, but I have been on a first date where the guy dropped his almost-abortion story: His girlfriend got pregnant, they decided to terminate the pregnancy, and then she had a miscarriage. It’s not an easy story to respond to, so I fell back on How To Deal With An Awkward Conversation Topic 101: Mirror the other person’s reaction. He seemed like he was sad about the situation, so I think I said something along the lines of, “That sounds like it was really hard, I’m sorry.” And the conversation moved on. I also had a friend who once told me the story of his hugely swollen testicle — like, baseball-sized. In recounting the story, he was cracking himself up, so I laughed along. It’s really not all that hard to take your cues from the person who lived through the unpleasant ordeal. And I think that’s the author’s point: Not that men should universally think abortion is no big deal, but that they should take women as individuals who have varied responses to situations, and who very well may not be traumatized or upset at all — but who may nonetheless be highly annoyed and physically discomforted by a 30-day period. Or they may just be relieved. Or they may be sad, or even devasted. Or they may feel stupid for getting pregnant. Or they may have emotions that are mixed and that evolve. You know, like most human beings.

Read Kate take a righteous hammer to the bullshit that is how we, as a culture, introduce children to disability. Woo go Kate!

OK, this post might seem a bit out of place (and ignore the quick bit of gender-enforcing at the end). It’s just so deeply joyful to be a witness to another person reveling in wonder, over things big or small. Grapefruit isn’t my thing, but you find enjoyment in funny places.

This is why I love slacktivist.

Adam Serwer took all of three posts at TAPPED, I think, to become my favorite writer at the mag (and it’s not for my lack of appreciation for Klein). This kind of reflection is why.

Jindal and Obama could not be more different, and the contrasts begin but don’t end with the fact that one of them changed his name to fit in while the other carried his daddy’s “funny” African moniker all the way to the White House. Last night, the differences were clear: Where Jindal was awkward, Obama was confident. Obama has mastered his voice, Jindal sounded like he didn’t know how to give a speech. Obama had mastered a variety of tones and cadences early in his career, Jindal offered a forced folksiness to a sing-song tune. But perhaps the most telling part of Jindal’s response was his extended introduction of his family history. Until now, the GOP has allowed the press to make the Obama comparisons, last night, Jindal tried to make one himself, an act that was inadvertently self-diminishing.

You can’t find your voice by trying to become what everyone else is. You do that by trying to find what it is that makes you you. See also M’s musings on identity.

I’m off to bed, to dream of miniwheats in the morning.