From the O-R: K***** Y****, 13, and his sisters K****, 9, and K********, 4, tend to their patch of tomatoes this afternoon at (the garden)… K***** also is a garden guardian who waters all of the plants on a regular basis.

Look familiar? My thoughts are conflicted in that post, about the real root (so to speak) of our modern issues with connection to our earth, but make no mistake: this garden is an unequivocal positive for the people who use it, and it makes me inordinately happy that it is here.

There are two things going on here:

* Professor Gates, who has a cane so that he can move independently, could probably have made it down the stairs on his own. That’s not to say without pain or difficulty — but he wasn’t helpless. The reaction to this photo presupposes that the crippled man must be completely unable to help his own damn self, and that it is noble when the able-bodied officer presumes to “help” him. Do you see what this does? It removes Prof. Gates as an agent; it makes him, instead, an agency-less object, existing for the purpose of the able-bodied man: this time, as a signifier of character (taking on that noble burden).

* Speaking of noble burdens: the race of the men involved cannot be ignored. Sgt. Crowley is a white man helping a crippled man. In the right wing’s reading of this photo, Sgt. Crowley becomes a symbol of whiteness: an example of the way in which white men are Good, in which Good is defined as the way white men do things. Think boot straps: this fantastical myth is all about the inherent goodness of the white man, who does things the right way, in contrast with the minorities, who are too lazy, selfish, etc. to bother. Sgt. Crowley presuming to help Prof. Gates stands in contrast with President Obama, who is walking ahead, minding his own business. This shouldn’t be an issue, but it is seen directly in front of the white man taking on the noble burden, and thus becomes an indictment on the character of the shiftless, self-absorbed black man.

Who was it for?

Of course it was reported as a sort of reconciliation: a way to help Prof. Gates and Sgt. Crowley make up. But that wasn’t what it was.

To sum: Prof. Gates arrived home after a long and tiring flight, and couldn’t get in his house. Someone called the police, thinking that a stranger was breaking into his home. Police arrive when Prof. Gates was already in his home and calling a locksmith. Prof. Gates shows ID to Sgt. Crowley proving this is his home, may have been “belligerent” in doing so. Sgt. Crowley responds by luring him to his front porch, where he is handcuffed and arrested for disorderly conduct. Outrage ensues; charges are dropped. (Police insist the original caller reported that black men were breaking in; recordings prove that she said nothing about race at all.)

Journalist asks Obama about this during a health care press conference. Obama says a few predictable, innocuous things, then says that it is obvious that the police “acted stupidly” in arresting Prof. Gates in his own home for no crime committed, then makes a simple comment about the inarguable history of racial profiling in this country.

Sgt. Crowley objects loudly, saying the President is “way off base.” Sgt. Crowley is obviously very upset, and the police force is standing in solidarity with him. The country is beginning to criticize Obama for admitting the troublesome racial aspects of the story; the conventional wisdom is becoming that Obama bit off more than he could chew in “bringing race into this” — and white America will make sure that he is taken down a notch for it.

So Obama invites the two men to the White House for a beer. The country reacts with mild derision — but the attacks begin to fade. The issue is neutralized.

See what’s going on here? White man does something unfair to black man. Black man protests that this was unfair. White man’s sensibilities are offended at the accusation that he could ever be An Unfair-ist, makes this into an argument about whether or not he is a Good Man (being unfair would necessitate that he is a Bad Man). All his friends know that he is, in fact, a Good Man, and they stand up to say as much. Black man looks around, realizes that the numbers are not on his side. That everyone has ignored the unfair way he was treated, and his family and friends have been treated throughout history. That there is unrest among them, and he may face very real consequences if he presses the issue any further.

So the black man backs down. Makes conciliatory noises. To soothe the white man’s feelings. So that the white man won’t cause him any more trouble.

What was this beer summit about? Did Obama really think he was going to solve the issue of racial profiling and police officers behaving unethically by inviting two men out for a beer? Of course he didn’t. That wasn’t the purpose.

The purpose was to get the offended white man (and his white friends) to shut up and stop causing the black men trouble.

And I don’t blame him.

Quick, think of a disease or condition that affects only men and is considered by a large portion of the population to be fake, created by the pharmaceutical industry, or psychosomatic.  *Sound of crickets.*

An excellent look at the gendered construction of medical conditions at the Women’s Sports Blog.

Most of the language about credulous patients being duped by Big Pharma is directed at women and conditions they suffer from disproportionately.  Women are, after all, emotional and have the ability to create amazing physical symptoms solely from their minds.  At the same time, women’s bodies are considered to be in a constant state of abnormality relative to men’s bodies.  The word ‘hysteria’ is etymologically related to the Latin word for uterus, which was long considered to be the site of women’s mental health problems, and hence its removal is called a hysterectomy [...]

‘Just get out and exercise’ or ‘just change your diet’ is fairly lousy advice for anyone who hasn’t been able to get out of bed. But as a society we still maintain the illusion that changes in hormones, brain chemistry, or the like are failures of self-control or willpower.

She also discusses the disproportionate burden laid on mothers of disabled children. Read the whole thing.

even after death
they stuff our bodies into boxes …

– mscripchick

(Today is the Transgender Day of Remembrance. Click through for a short summary of those dead whose stories are known.)

I don’t know how you have a conversation with people for whom “because it’s right” is not enough of a reason to do something. I really don’t.

– commenter Isabel

… arguing with a doctor about weight is like arguing with a priest about whether you should be a Christian.

– commenter Eve

They’re waiting for the self-disclosure that explains why someone who seems so “normal” would identify with the disability community. They’re waiting to find out exactly why the friend who spoke up isn’t just like everyone else after all: The excuse that allows them to continue ignoring disability identity and culture. They’re waiting to be able to explain to each other, later, that:

“I don’t know anyone with Down’s. How was I supposed to know her sister had it?” [...]

The reason an able-bodied or able-looking person needs a reason to be a disability advocate is simple: So everybody else has a reason not to be. It’s “not their dog.” [...]

Disability culture (Deaf-Side debate notwithstanding) doesn’t require that you show your crip card, or your sister’s, mother’s, or brother’s, to be in favor of that which is right.

– Veralidaine

I write from San Francisco, where, in the months leading up the election, I saw a massive mobilization within the queer spaces in which I spend time to get people to vote no on 8, but I saw little or no public discourse among LGBT people about very important state propositions: 5, 6, and 9—all of which potentially impacted things like funding for prisons, drug crime sentencing, or the trying of minors as adults in this state….

– Adele Carpenter

Just take the other day. I was exiting a building in a stream of white people who had been able to afford the ticket to the show we had just seen. I was pushed off the path by two couples and a what looked like a father with his arm around his daughter. Wizard righted me. No one else came to help. They were too busy talking about the awesome Obama victory. Then, father ran down, literally, a poor black homeless woman who was trying to walk upstream. She kept saying “excuse me, excuse me.” Father pushed her aside; the white people on either side flooded around her. She was entirely invisible. I looked her in the eye and exchanged words with her. No one else seemed to see her. The Obama victory, you know.

– Wheelchair Dancer

my body, and everything i use to take care of it.

Tomorrow is Love Your Body Day. The boundaries defining NOW, the sponsoring organization, are widely known to be drawn (conveniently) around the Western ideal of the financially privileged white life. But, much like feminism as a whole, I feel there is something of value at the core, something of use to all of us.

I find little use in campaigns and projects claiming to sprout from a respect and appreciation of the human body, which decry an unfair media ideal, but whose aim seems to be — not to deconstruct that ideal in an attempt to destroy any ideal whatsoever — but to deconstruct that ideal so as to replace it with one more conveniently molded to their own experience.

I do not want to replace the size zero ideal with a size six ideal. I do not want to look at the impossibly tiny waists and replace them with well-defined waists always significantly thinner than their accompanying hips and bosom. I don’t want to look at the airbrushed, overtanned, bleached blonde ideal and replace it with an ideal that includes pores and a range of hair color, but only on caucasian and white-skinned bodies, which are still skinny and perfectly toned, with smooth caucasian hair that’s allowed to be stick straight to a little wavy, and always the bright open eyes and blinding smile, always a smile.

Instead of an ideal, instead of merely shifted expectations — we need to blow that ideal to pieces, and in its place, put a purposeful lack of expectation, put a willingness to consider, put a confident knowledge that one may be faced with anything, anything, and put a curiosity, a sense of wonder, an ability to find beauty, rather than have it delivered.

Bodies, bodies, bodies. When we tell one person her body is beautiful because it is not this, or that, or that other thing, we tell another person whose body is one of those things that her body is not beautiful. When we tell one person her body is what we should be celebrating, we tell every other person whose body is different that they are still deficient — only in a different way.

(And as an aside: when we tell one person that real beauty is natural beauty, no modifications, no adaptations, no change whatsoever — we tell every other person on earth, every person who ever does any single thing to change their body, how it looks, what it does, how it feels — we tell them that they are not only deficient — they are committing a grave moral sin. Do you use mascara? Have you ever cut your hair? Why do you eat what you eat? Have you ever taken any sort of medication, for anything from a cold to cancer? Ever visited a doctor, therapist, or other practicioner? Ever injured yourself, and applied an antibiotic and bandage, or a set and cast, to make your body do something it would otherwise not do on its own? Do you wear glasses or contact lenses? Do you wear shoes? Do you shave? Well then.)

Instead, we should tell each person: you are a full, whole, valuable person. Look into yourself. Curl up deep within yourself, forsaking the outside world. And look around. What do you like? What feels good? What does good? What is it about your physical self that makes your life a little bit better?

Maybe it is how your body looks. Maybe it is what your body does. Maybe it is how your body feels. Maybe it is not any of these things. Maybe it is something else.

Look at your body, look at it, every day, look at it and think to yourself, and seek out that which is good. Good. Not good for them. Good for you.

What do you delight in?

What will you?

Body image is a question not only for just-under-average-sized upper class white girls and women. Body issue is a question for all of us. Women and men alike. People of color, mixed races, different cultures with different values. The fully abled, the disabled, the deformed, the deficient. Every one of us, as human beings, has to deal with the reality of our bodies as they are and how that conflicts with the expectations the rest of our society has of us. This is expressed in different ways for different persons and different society. But not one of us, not one, is unaffected.

So I invited everyone, even those who know they are not NOW’s target demographic — I invite you all to participate tomorrow. Seek peace with your body. After all, you can never escape it. But your body is not your adversary. Your body is you.

Love yourself.

shah8 on historical trends:

One of the things that I have noticed about big F feminism, and this may not be an accurate perception, so feel free to correct me, is that there is a much lower appreciation among women that enlightenment and oppression happens in cycles. Ever greater progression in civil rights is not typically the rule, especially beyond a generation or so. I believe that the current multigenerational expansion has alot to do with industrial revolution backed by fossil fuels.

As a black person mindful of history, I am very conscious in how drastically things can change. One form of slavery, then a cotton gin based slavery, boom! emancipation, then reenslavement through penury and prison labor, then Jim Crow a bit past the high point of that, then civil rights era, and as you can see, an increase and decrease in the quality of life over the past couple of hundred years. Same with jewish people in europe, and pretty much the same with women everywheres.

The shape of the economy tends to dictate what civil rights we have. If women becomes a currency (men who can provide for the largest harem has the most status), then the system feedbacks will force women to have no rights no matter how much women and some men may protest. The only times things change is when things become untenable, or when the dominant party figures to benefit from liberalisation. It hardly ever happens otherwise.

I believe that we are in a retrenching of civil rights. I know some of you think that a defensive crouch is a bad thing, but I have absolutely no illusions about human nature. People, by and large, are truly capable of being rather monstrously evil with little prompting or social conditioning. It takes quite a bit of social conditioning, equitable societies, and empathetic teaching to make people not act in a particularly “innovative” fashion. When things of that nature is going down, due to social or economic disruption, respect for civil liberties goes down as well. I think we *should* be prepared to play defense for awhile.

Deborah Lipp on those damn lazy teenagers.

Teenagers NEED MORE SLEEP. This is totally a fucking fact. They NEED MORE SLEEP. Am I repeating myself? And school is earlier and earlier. My son’s high school day has been from 7:30 am to 2:00 pm. WTF? When I was in high school (hundreds of years ago; I rode a mammoth to school every day), it was 8:30 to 3. What VALUE is there in making them wake up an hour earlier at the time in their lives when they need more sleep than they have since kindergarten?

So they’re tired all the fucking time, and by the way, since they have very limited access to lockers (so they don’t keep drugs and guns there, I guess), and schools don’t have the budget to have extra texts in class (because, oh never mind, you know), they’re also toting a shitload of books back and forth between classes.

So my teen, on days he doesn’t exercise, is exhausted when he gets up and then totes and 20 pound (give or take, it’s fucking HEAVY) backpack to school, and totes it between classes every 45 minutes, often up or down stairs.

But he doesn’t get exercise.

Fuck you, US Government.

Nezua, with righteous anger:

“I just wanted to work a year or two, save, and then go back to my family, but it was not to be.” His case and that of a million others could simply be solved by a temporary work permit as part of our much overdue immigration reform. “The Good Lord knows I was just working and not doing anyone any harm.” This man, like many others, was in fact not guilty. “Knowingly” and “intent” are necessary elements of the charges, but most of the clients we interviewed did not

even know what a Social Security number was or what purpose it served. This worker simply had the papers filled out for him at the plant, since he could not read or write Spanish, let alone English. But the lawyer still had to advise him that pleading guilty was in his best interest. He was unable to make a decision.

“You all do and undo,” he said. “So you can do whatever you want with me.” To him we were part of the system keeping him from being deported back to his country, where his children, wife, mother, and sister depended on him. He was their sole support and did not know how they were going to make it with him in jail for 5 months. None of the “options” really mattered to him. Caught between despair and hopelessness, he just wept. He had failed his family, and was devastated. I went for some napkins, but he refused them. I offered him a cup of soda, which he superstitiously declined, saying it could be “poisoned.” His Native American spirit was broken and he could no longer think. He stared for a while at the signature page pretending to read it, although I knew he was actually praying for guidance and protection. Before he signed with a scribble, he said: “God knows you are just doing your job to support your families, and that job is to keep me from supporting mine.”

There was my conflict of interest, well put by a weeping, illiterate man.

—THE TRUE STORY OF POSTVILLE

…

One day those on the “progressive” side of things who think they can pick and choose their little causes and relegate the rest to Pet Issue Land will be stricken with a very real sense of urgency when they realize that you can’t save the tenth floor lounge without saving the lobby and service entrance, too. And that the penthouses will fall the furthest before the fire’s done.

…

And those of us who are sensible and whose bones don’t rattle with the ghost of pat buchanan’s fear know that it’s not like these people care about the damn Census. They don’t care about Xicano blogotov throwers. They don’t want to “take over” your damn corrupt land.

They just. Want. To. Eat. And. Live. Just to be able to move about, working hard for pay. They love their country and very often come here because it is the USGOV’s business and practice to squeeze every bit of profit we can and centralize it here. They don’t want to be here very often. But we shut down the open flow. USGOV is starving. USGOV is broke. USGOV is shaking in its boots…

Can you identify what purpose clothing serves?

I can pick out a few, ranging from the positive to the potentially problematic:

• It keeps your body temperature well-regulated (whether warm or cold).
• It protects your skin from physical harm — scrapes/scratches, sunburn, contact with harmful substances…
• It prevents body discomfort. (Think bras, cups, braces/girdles for people with back problems, good supportive shoes, bottom wear that prevents ‘chub rub’ and so on.)
• It makes you feel good about your appearance.
• It sends a message to the people who see you wearing it.
• It identifies you as part of a group. (country music fans, Threadless frequenters, goth/nonconformist, high class professional, whatever.)
• It indicates level of formality. Clothes you wear to paint your house in, vs. clothes you wear to a job interview.
• It bestows a certain status. (GOB’s $3000 suit, COME ON!)
• It flatters and draws attention parts of your body you feel are attractive.
• It is aesthetically pleasing to you on its own. (The color or pattern, etc.)
• It is aesthetically pleasing to you when it is on you (not the “ideal” model). (The style, cut, shape, the color/pattern against your skin/hair/eyes, makeup, hairstyles, etc.)
• It gives you an outlet for your creativity. (You can combine different articles of clothing different ways, along with jewelry, headwear, eyewear, footwear…)
• It allows you to experiment in being a different person. (Trying on different styles, wearing costumes, etc.)

What would you add to this list?

When you are struggling with yourself, whether it’s your senior prom dress, or trying to wear a certain kind of clothing that isn’t comfortable for you, or whatever — try to think about this. What is my clothing SUPPOSED to do for me? It’s certainly not supposed to make me feel bad about myself, or to make me uncomfortable. With that in mind, why should I be wasting my time on this article of clothing, when I could be enjoying what I wear?

Leave your ideas on the subject in comments.

But I also feel smaller. Maybe the Lupron is helping reduce the bloat in the tummy? There is definitely a difference looking in the mirror. Less to squish. Which is rather a surprise considering the previous immutability of my weight.

It is very obvious my GP does not like that I am on the Lupron, not at all. “It’s not like taking an Advil,” he says. That’s not news to me, though. When I told Matthew same, he remarked: “Then what are you supposed to do? At least this is helping reduce the stuff that is causing your pain.” Which is approximately how I feel about it. I know it’s a serious treatment. (GP does think the dizziness and spasms are probably attributable to it, since nothing else came up on x-ray and bloodwork.) But it will be an improvement over the status quo. A lot of the anti-medicine-type folks fail to understand that concept. GP has been reasonable so far, so his views on this matter were somewhat of a surprise.

Halfway through the Lupron, at this point, so long as I don’t have to repeat the therapy at the end. After that first monthish, my symptoms were greatly reduced. Including the dizziness and spasming. They aren’t gone altogether, but they’ve been largely stifled.

He is sending me to physical therapy for the back pain. Welcome development, that. Especially as I am applying around for new jobs, and kind of hoping for a clerical job with the state. I’m in contact with the local vocational rehab services as well. I mean, I sit on my ass all day anyway, but if I am working full time I am going to need some help adjusting to sitting on my ass in a place without access to all the accommodations I have built for myself at home.

I am still adjusting to the idea of working full-time. I’m not totally sure I can do it, but on the other hand, I don’t really have much reason to doubt it either. Especially considering I was unable to sustain any sort of work-for-pay before my current medicine regimen. I am the same person, with the same medical conditions. All that has changed is my treatment.

I don’t think I’ve ever written here about the catch-22 I faced there. Without that treatment, I was disabled, unable to work at all. When I was on disability, I qualified for Medicare, which would pay for that treatment. But with that treatment, I was (tentatively) able to earn SGA. Which would disqualify me from those disability payments. Which would mean I’d lose my Medicare. Which would mean I no longer had the treatment that enabled me to work.

Fortunately they do actually continue at least Medicaid coverage for workers with disabilities, at least in Pennsylvania, but only temporarily. After that, you’re at the mercy of your employer.

The fight for universal health care is, then, quite intimate for me.

Over and out.

I’ll let the more experienced cover the article as a whole. But I just wanted to pick out this bit:

And as part of other anti-obesity measures, school officials should consider implementing programs to help girls build social skills, they added.

…….

*faint*

Ugh. There’s so much in this one little quote, I just can’t think of how to address it all.

There’s the fact that apparently a girl’s position on the social ladder only begins to matter to adults the moment she starts showing a little chub. No mention of the social ostracization, including the emotional harm—all the way up to and including depression and suicide—and the physical harm involved (ask my friend Mike what he faced as an unpopular child in school).

There’s the fact that, for goodness’ sake, these are children! My husband was a very chubby child, but he grew up to be 5′9, 120lbs, and plateaued at 140 when he was weightlifting. I was a chubby little girl, and grew up to be 5′8″ and 125lbs at the highest before I got on my current medication.

There’s the fact that you can’t just swoop in and “teach” a girl “social skills.” The hierarchy that exists in elementary, middle and even high school is far, far more complicated than adults give them credit for. Girls who are perfectly “skilled” socially are still ostracized. Even if a girl is a late bloomer in the social skills department, her position on the social ladder may be cemented enough that it doesn’t help her any. And popularity can be based on absolutely random shit sometimes that has not a thing to do with whether you have social skills.

There’s the fact that maybe the girl is perfectly happy with the friends she has, and doesn’t particularly want to be friends with the girls she perceives as “popular.” I knew I wasn’t high on the popularity list in high school (and I was beyond skinny, by the way), but I had no delusions that I would lead any better a life if I was. I had amazing friends and I wouldn’t have traded them for all the prep cred in the world.

And finally, to state the fucking obvious, there’s the fact that maybe, just maybe, these children are unpopular BECAUSE they are fat.

*head.* *desk.*

Update: Just wanted to add a slightly different perspective: Could it be that, besides popular girls being selected in part for their body type, they also feel such intense pressure to remain thin that they’ll do anything to keep that status? As usual, it’s a double-edged sword here.

Consider, again, the phenomenon of invisible illness and the response of the general public to the knowledge that some acquaintance of theirs is disabled: a good many will accept it and offer their sympathies, and a good many will reject it (or at least be doubtful) and question the diagnosis. They know better, that person has to be faking it (or it’s all in their head), it can’t be true. They’re just lazy/freeloading/don’t want to work/welfare culture/etc. Even if these criticisms don’t make it off their tongues, they tumble around in their heads.

And those of us with invisible illnesses will, occasionally, have the good fortune of being able to observe these people voicing these thoughts to people they consider confidants. People who, they think, don’t suffer from and/or have close connection to someone with said illness. People who they think share their way of thinking. And usually, we’ll shut up and carry the knowledge with us that anybody who’s offering generic sympathies to our faces could be sneering at us behind our backs.

It has been my experience, being privy to some of these conversations (including my own brother’s admonitions to my fat and physically disabled mother), that the larger one’s waist size, the less likely people are to trust that they really do suffer whatever condition they claim to suffer.

Folks from the fat acceptance movement will surely be familiar with the underlying attitude. It’s a lack of self-control, or a reckless disregard for one’s health (rather, for societal expectations, but no one will outright say that) or an overarching irresponsibility. It’s a fundamental immorality that makes you fat, they say (though rarely in those words).

They see a connection here. If someone is too lazy to “just” spend an hour at the gym every day and deny themselves any and all pleasure in their diet, then—[insert forehead smack]—of course they’ll be too lazy to get off their ass and get a paying job! Or maybe it’s the other way around. Anyway. They take away from my viewing pleasure as I move through the world and then they take away my hard-earned tax money! Damn freeloaders!

Indeed, fat people probably experience a declining lack of trust in their own description of their experiences the less trim they are. And I’m sure this whole deal is compounded further for mental illness.

It just struck me as I was rereading Annaham’s post. It’s damaging and frustrating for fat folks and the disabled both, and difficult to combat at that—especially if you try to speak up, given that the original speaker just spent the first half of the conversation discrediting the opinion and experiences of you or anyone like you. It leaves one, in the end, feeling very small and helpless. Which is something both groups feel often enough already.