Live long and prosper in the hereafter, Leonard Nimoy. If you would, please ask God to send us more men like you.
A pledge not to indulge in ‘fat talk’ precludes anything relating to body image, whether that’s commenting that a friend or colleague has lost weight, complimenting someone’s new shoes or analysing celebrity physiques. Traditionally, these topics are the remit of female conversation, which explains why a social media search shows the vast majority of participants in Fat Talk Free initiatives are women.
“Fat” is not something you are, it is something you have.
Do not tell her she looks “thin.” Tell her she looks beautiful.
Even better, tell her she looks healthy.
Compliment her interior qualities, her intelligence, her kindness, her acceptance.
Do not suggest ways she can change herself. If she asks your opinion on a change she may want to make, tell her she’s perfect the way she is, and then just listen.
If she refuses to eat because of her figure, don’t fight her, just remind her that it’s healthy to indulge a little from time to time, and remind her, again, that she’s perfect the way she is.
When she’s down on herself, just listen, and tell her that you respectfully disagree.
It’s all very simple; love her, and be respectful. Most of the time, when we engage in poor body talk and body image, we just want someone to listen. And no matter how important we know it is to love ourselves, we’re human. We need to know others love us as well.
Certainly not. Literature classes are not useless. They have specific, quantitative values like promoting critical reading skills, analysis of authorship, consideration of audience, and promote a better, more rounded education. They open our minds to other perspectives and allow an open forum of discussion of important social issues that would otherwise not come up in say, thermodynamics.
Every single semester, whether I’m teaching Composition or Literature, I have to deal with questions like:
- What is the point to all this?
- How is this going to help me?
- Why does this even matter?
There is an unfortunate sentiment toward education now; if it doesn’t get you a job, and make money for you, it’s useless.
The world reminds me of this daily. Despite the fact that the arts are integral in producing all that television, film, and social media that the greater percentage of the world loves so much, degrees in the Humanities and Arts are seen as frivolous and useless, and are often a punchline.
Even on shows like The Big Bang Theory, in which “quintessential nerds” love and find value in comic books, the Humanities are constantly the butt of jokes. It’s hypocritical, frankly; comic books and science fiction movies are, in no uncertain terms, literature produced by artists. You can’t belittle the people who create and study them one moment, and love their work the next.
To my students, I say that you can choose not to pay attention. You can choose not to care about anything that isn’t going to serve you fiscally. You can complain, berate, and belittle people who spend their lives producing, promoting, and teaching the Arts and Humanities. Know this, though. You will be:
- Less educated. Literature sometimes, often, actually, holds more relevant information that “factual” history books.
- Less informed. Writers and artists have long been feared by the world’s most powerful people for their ability to reveal the truth.
- Less able to think critically. Math will help you with numbers for the rest of your life, and will help you think logically. Literature and the Arts will help you think about life, and decide for yourself just what the hell it all means.
- More narrow-minded. Closing yourself to the Arts and Humanities is like putting blinders on. You miss a large percentage of what has happened, and is happening out there, and you certainly won’t comprehend it.
- Less empathetic. The news doesn’t reveal what’s below the surface. Love, hate, happiness, and pain are revealed when people express it, and most of them express it in ways that are inherently artistic and literary.
- Hypocritical. If you enjoy watching television, film, or almost anything online, but still complain that Literature and Art are useless, you’ve completely missed a major point; one does not exist without the other.
So, instead of “surviving” a literature class, try enjoying it, and sucking up all the value it has to offer.
L. was defined as “male” at birth.
I phrase things this way, and put suggestive quotations around “male,” because I’ve come to believe that gender, in many ways, is an imposed construct. And, for someone like L., that construct is largely false. Though she has spent the greater portion of her life to this point with the body of a man, she is, in fact, a woman.
I’ve long accepted that there are people in this world who cannot be happy and truly themselves in the lives and bodies into which they were born. I can fathom feeling displaced, like I don’t belong, in my own ways. Like many women, I’ve struggled with body image. I can’t, however, fully comprehend what it must have been like for L.
Like many, my understanding of a transgendered person’s struggle is limited to T.V. and film. I’m hoping that there are also many like me who want to understand better so that they may be more empathetic and supportive. So, I’ve asked L. to answer some questions for me, and she has graciously agreed.
First, thank you for being willing to do this. I hope at least a few people manage to see it and learn something, broaden their minds.
Let’s start at the beginning.
Hmm… So it was really from my first set of memories. Those memories of being a toddler can be fragmented and somewhat like looking at a movie through a strobe light. However, there were a few things:Firstly, I used to have recurring dreams where “fairies” in light white gowns would come and take me to play with them. Somehow when they did this, I became like them. As I got older, first-person dreams evolved more and more where I was either born with a female body or something in the dream ‘fixed’ me. But those fairy dreams were the beginning of those and are really about my earliest memories, period.It would be overstating to say I knew I was transgender or even “different” at that stage. The whole process was more akin to a confusing mosaic of experiences and instincts that gradually revealed an inescapable truth that bound it all together.When did I know I was “different” though? That would probably be around six years old. I was beginning to really socialize with other children and struggled to relate to boys. Not only that but I remember having these strange profound experiences every now and then. One such experience was playing soft tennis on the lawn of our backyard, with my brothers and some friends. I just recall finishing a game and then getting this sense that ‘everything’ was just wrong. It was very disconcerting…like this was not real and it was all kind of made up. I felt profoundly alone, in my own world.At the same time as these experiences, other things were going on that I just could not process at the time and realize were really different. An example would be my hair.. I hated getting it cut. I hated it. It was not because it hurt or I was afraid of the hairdresser but I always came out feeling very uncomfortable with a more boyish look. It was also around that time (about six) that I first started a regular habit of scouring through my mothers closet and playing with shoes or sometimes even a dress (but they were way to big to ever wear even for play). I initially did the same for my father but it had a scarier, cold feel to it and held no interest to me. I was fascinated with jewelry and even toiletries in the bathroom. I would go through these things again and again in a strange inquisitive compulsion but with no ulterior motive at the time. Finally, I definitely grew envious if that is the right term, for girls in my classes at school. It was the first time I felt any shame because I remember wanting to be one of the “princesses” in a play or to be one of the girls doing the dance of the Waltz of Flowers when the primary school did a version of the Nutcracker Suite. I was so sad watching them… Gosh I can recall that!So… without expanding too much further on the question, my earliest memories of being different were from when I was toddler. But actually “knowing” I was different probably took me about until I was six. Finally, knowing and accepting I was transgender is something that happened much, much later.
That depends on what you mean. If you mean recognizing I was different as a child? That was disconcerting and confusing. However, once the full realization and acceptance came later on, it was nothing short of terrifying. I knew the way transgender people were treated and viewed. I knew the stigma I could face yet I also knew it was not something I could “choose” to ignore. So it was much more like feeling I had been diagnosed with a horrible disease with a very unknown prognosis and uncertain future ahead of me.In fact, I tried initially to rebuild the walls of mental suppression and denial to put everything “back in the box.” But it was useless. Once the clarity finally came, it could never be contained any longer.
No, I would state given what I have observed happen to other transgender people after coming out, I was incredibly lucky.I feared ridicule in public, losing friends, being stared at like a “freakshow” when doing mundane tasks in public and discrimination. I feared being considered a third-class citizen.It was particularly hard at first because my hair was still short, I had not yet done much electrolysis, and hormones had not yet had a chance to change my body. So, you end up wearing a wig, excessive make-up, and faking curves on your body. Thus, unfortunately, the first time you really explore is a time when far from feeling “authentic,” the artificial additions to your body, aside from making it easier for attention to be drawn from others, make you, yourself feel very low and “fake.”One of the first times I went out after acknowledging it, was to visit my first physician that would help me. She was in the University of Mississippi Medical Center in Jackson. This was a long, narrow building akin to an airline terminal where you would walk past waiting area after waiting area to finally get to suite “G,” where she was based. It was like running a gauntlet and there was a constant battle of keeping your head up, concentrating on your gait to avoid attention versus putting your head down and avoiding eye contact which would draw attention.In the end, I felt the weight of several people staring at me from time to time, but after a while got used to that. Even that first experience was not as bad as I feared. None of my real friends abandoned me. Old friends from England send me various messages of support as did friends in California. I had always surrounded myself with generally Liberal people though so for the most part the deck was stacked in my favor. My family in England were cautiously supportive while being a little confused about what it all meant.I did lose male privilege and noticed this in a number of ways. When people did not know me at my employment, they would be more likely to technically challenge me or otherwise assumed I was less technically competent than I was. I have to be extra careful of my “moods.” Additionally, there were small things such as when I got my vehicle serviced, I found that while the service technicians were suddenly a lot nicer (albeit a little condescending), they have on more than one occasion tried to make me pay more for my service than I needed to. As an example, I have a Volkswagen minivan which is actually made by Chrysler and uses 100% American parts. Nevertheless, since I transitioned, I have had service techs try to tell me that because parts have to be “imported” it makes it much more expensive. I am not remotely mechanical so I have no idea of some the other attempted scams that have been tried on me. But I have caught them doing this more than once. Male privilege manifests itself in a number of ways and I have lost that.
I’m sorry, I shouldn’t chuckle at that last bit at all, but I can’t help it. It’s sort of sad laughter. Welcome to our class, Darlin’!
In my experience the concept of male privilege is global. It could be much worse in an ultra-conservative, religious country like Saudi Arabia, but even in England with its rather secular, more liberal and less sexist society, the male privilege is still there. I would still face fleecing by a mechanic, and I would still be judged differently if I am assertive or opinionated. As for the rest of society, while England has made strides for transgender rights by streamlining the gender change process, even those laws are flawed. Additionally, it was only in 2013 that Lucy Meadows committed suicide. She was an elementary school teacher who transitioned on the job (with the support of her school) yet the vitriol and perceived right to vilify her from the British media (particularly Richard Littlejohn) drove her to kill herself not too long afterwards. It resonated with me… she could have been me. The British tabloid media can be absolutely brutal.So while I have transitioned in the American South, probably the worst place for LGBT people in the United States, the reality is that nowhere is perfect. I would face nearly as much ridicule even in England. I would just have stronger, longer support, which is a crucial part of surviving transition.
The positives… I think being authentic is everything. The freedom to be who you are, and express yourself completely and honestly, is priceless and everything else pales in comparison. But beyond that, “positives'”? I have been given insight that people rarely get. I have seen life from two different gender “roles” imposed by society. It is a positive because, while I can recognize the effects of privilege, it also makes me less likely to judge and be more tolerant. I can enjoy wearing a range of different outfits, shoes, boots, makeup, and jewelry without fear (though not without judgement). I get treated differently by strangers. If a mother is with a baby, she naturally smiles at me, rather than giving me a cautious look. People in general feel less threatened by me, and it is obvious that strangers are more relaxed and talkative to me (not necessarily a positive, though, to someone who hates chit-chat!). Men often instinctively want to help me carry heavy things. I was also going to add the transgender community, but on reflection this is a double-edged sword. The transgender community is full of caring, compassion, and understanding for their transgender brothers and sisters. But, it is also equally full to the brim with selfishness, resentment, and bitterness which often causes fractures and divisions within the community. So despite all the wonderful people I have met within that community, it is somewhat tenuous to label it exclusively positive.
This is a big question. Firstly, gender identity has nothing to do with sexual orientation. Secondly, the organ which determines one’s gender is the brain. Nothing else is relevant in determining your gender. In simple terms, “Gender Dysphoria” or “Gender Dissonance” is a medical condition in which the gender identity in the brain is non-congruent with the external physical characteristics of the body, where sexual differentiation takes place. It is not a “lifestyle” and it is not something people “choose” to be.The only time “choice” is available is in how one handles the condition and chooses to treat it. One has to determine the right solution for dealing with the deep pain and distress of living in a gender role that is completely different to one’s gender identity. Sometimes, it may be possible to treat without surgery, sometimes even without hormones. What is true is that the condition generally does not improve and only gets worse without treatment, particular as the body further exhibits characteristics at odds with one’s gender identity.Living with gender dysphoria is a rare type of pain and distress. It is a very private prison that often goes years without being observed or acknowledged by anyone other than the person with the condition. Transgender people are not mentally ill, and are quite capable of functioning in society, once they treat the condition. The biggest tragedy today is not that Transgender people are incapable of dealing with their condition, but that many people in society are unwilling to recognize it exists.Whether you truly believe gender dysphoria is biological or purely a product of social environment, the fact is that in adults with the condition, it almost never goes away. The process of transition has a dramatically more successful treatment efficacy than any other approach. So whether you accept the science or “believe” in something else, rejecting transgender people in society, and rejecting proven methods to relieve their distress and pain, is inhumane and immoral.
Question: Who brings the cupcakes at your office, is more likely to toss the moldy leftovers from the communal fridge, or gets stuck organizing the office b-day shindig? Answer: Hey guys, I can make reservations at the bar for today’s post-work drinks. It’s no problem, really!
I have so much to say on this topic. I mean, really. I could go on for ages.
But, I do work in an office, so I’m just going to leave this here for you.
I’m bubbling with things to say.
But I won’t.
Ever wonder why rapists and rapists’ sympathizers are they way that they are?
There’s no simple answer; there are a myriad of reasons why.
You can damn well be sure that mothers like the “Princeton Mom” are one of the reasons, though.
While many such statements are banal, some are worth noticing because in our school practices and policies we tend to ignore the implications that follow from them. It’s both intellectually interesting and practically important to explore such contradictions: If we all agree that a given principle is true, then why in the world do our schools still function as if it weren’t?
By the time a lot of my students reach me, they have missed so much that I have to spend time teaching things they should have learned in high school.
I suppose I should say, “waste time teaching.”
Students have come to me without ever having read a novel. Some of them cannot seem to put together a basic, grammatically sound sentence. I actually have to spend time on the difference between things like “their,” “they’re,” and “there,” and remind them not to use “text speak.”
There are other, less intellectual things many of them do not learn. Some lack work ethic, and do not understand that they are responsible for their work and attendance. They were not taught that due dates are final, work cannot be turned in late for no good reason without consequences, and not attending class means failure. Generally, assignments cannot be made up, or done again.
I’ll avoid a rant on the twinge I feel every time a student rejects Shakespeare off-hand, or refers to his writing as “Old English.”
I have, on more than one occasion, wanted to quit teaching entirely. The pay is inadequate, the work is undervalued, and the hours and effort are incredibly stressful.
But, every semester something happens.
- A student is gloriously enthusiastic.
- A class is lively and attentive.
- My students learn.
And, in the end, I sign up for more of the pain, just for those tiny pieces satisfaction.
As frustrating as all this is to deal with, I don’t blame the students. It is, for the most part, not their fault. The education system is failing them.
I do my best to apply all the things that this article lists. Not because research, an article, or another professor told me to, but because they make sense.
It is logical that a student who writes a paper about something that interests her or him will write better. The student will perform better research, learn faster, and retain more if shown that what she or he is doing is worth more than a class grade; it is knowledge, and the process by which it was achieved is directly relevant to life.
I don’t claim to be an expert in the sexual, romantic, or social relationships within the realm of BDSM and its communities.
However, I’ve read on it, studied it, and interviewed members for the purpose of research. As a result, I do know a thing or two.
I somehow brought myself to read 50 Shades of Grey through and through not long after it became a “hit.” It made me cringe from the first page (oh, God, the writing), but I considered it necessary for me to keep up with what was happening in the world of erotic and romantic fiction.
I can’t help but be seriously bothered by this series’ popularity, and the claims that it is making BDSM more acceptable and popular somehow.
Christian Grey is a severely troubled man, and an abusive stalker. His “contract,” amounts to little more than an urban myth; it is not at all a standard in Dom/Sub relationships. I am sure there are exceptions, but the active BDSM community is made of people who value trust above all else; receiving and executing pain as pleasure requires keen understanding of an individual’s desire and, most importantly, their personal boundaries. To force constraint of any kind on a person the way that Grey does would be unacceptable in true BDSM relationships and communities.
I would like to rip the writing apart, but that’s another rant altogether.
I understand popular and “trash” literature. I enjoy it. I’ve even published on literature than may be considered “trash.” I recognize people’s freedom to enjoy this work.
However, I urge you, readers, to consider just how much this is fiction. The Christian Greys of this world need psychological help, not a woman on her knees.
Memes by the sixth siren of pandora on Tumblr. Permission for use requested and granted.
Most of us realize in theory that men can be raped by women as well, but it’s just not seen as that big of a problem. Unless the victim is a child, female-on-male rape is considered so absurd that the only time we really see it is when it’s being portrayed as a carousel of slapstick wackiness in mainstream comedies. You see a beautiful actress force herself on a tied-down Vince Vaughn and the only thought is, “Ha, I wish!” After all, don’t movies tell us that men want sex, all the time, from absolutely anyone who’ll give it to them? He should be thanking her!
This is another way in which feminism benefits men.
When male rape survivors (I prefer that term to “victim”) are dismissed, or too afraid to come forward, it is a direct result of ideas and beliefs regarding masculinity, forced on the male population by the patriarchy. These beliefs are that men can’t be raped because that’s something that happens to women (when women aren’t lying about it, but that’s another issue), and women are inherently lesser. If a man claims he was raped, it therefore makes him lesser, because he is a man; he is supposed to want sex, no matter the circumstance.
Feminism’s aim to level the patriarchy and make things equal benefits men because men may then cease to hide their vulnerability, and receive justice for wrongs done to them by women (and other men).