Working titele: Finding Home

In this article a woman called Dambisa Moyo talks about how she wants the west to stop sending aid money to Africa, because all it's doing is shoring up corrupt regimes and pulling the rug on local economies. I think she's probably right, and I wish a lot more foreign aid money would go into self-help type projects - like micro lending, or helping governments restructure themselves.

Don't have much else to say, except, this has been my thought for years, and I agree, and thought maybe someone else might be interested :o)

esmeraldus_neo linked to an interesting article about relationships, called Why Marriages Fail. I thought there was a lot of sensible stuff in there[1], but still wanted to chuck in my two cents.

What makes marriage so special? Divorce rates are always brought up, and then people are alarmed at how high they are, at, say, 50%. Why doesn't anyone ever look at non-marriage relationships? In a person's life, how many romantic relationships are actually life-long? How many end? In the world, out of all total romatic relationships, how many end? Marriages are the ones we think, or hope, might go the distance, but even if only half of them do, I would guess that's a lot higher than for non-marriages. I haven't been married, so I don't really know what I'm talking about, but setting the obvious legal and economical changes aside, what's so different between being married, and just living together?

I've been with my bf for just over 6 years, we've lived together for about 5 1/2, we've got a shared bank account for household expenses, we make important life decisions together. If we get married, I imagine we'll have to sort out how to celebrate christmas, because doing it apart will seem a bit silly at that point.[2] But other than that, it seems we already have most of the things a marriage has. Yet, if we break up, that's apparently ok, because it won't affect the divorce rate. That's a bit silly isn't it?

Why marriages fail. Fail. It's always failiure when a marriage ends. Why is that? I don't think it should be seen that way. A relationship that blows up - everyone hates each other, the kids get stuck in the middle, blame and acrimony flying all over the place - that's a failed relationship. A relationship that ends amicably, where the parties agree they've grown apart, can still be friendly, and cooperate about the kids - that's just an ended relationship. Lots of relationships end. I don't see a problem with that, as long as they end well. I don't see a problem with marriages ending, as long as they end well, and I wish our society would stop being so obsessed with the end part, and focus more on the well part.

The only reason we're so upset about marriages ending is that we have some idea that they shouldn't. The church says it's forever, so it should be. That's dumb, and obviously not true for at least 50% of marriages. Keeping this mindset, I think, leads to a lot of marriages continuing after the relationship should have ended, because you're not supposed to end a marriage. That makes no-one happy. Except possibly christian statisticians. Instead, lets embrace the concept of ending relationships well. Death can be one such end - if you want to stay together for the rest of your life, great!. I'm happy for you. If you don't, you probably shouldn't. But please try to avoid blowing up. It causes too much debris and collateral damage.

There is, of course, the issue of children. It used to be that children were primarily produced within marriages. This is no longer quite so much the case. Having children introduces a whole host of responsibilites for the parents - but those responsibilities are the same wether you are maried or not. Once you have children, the relationship can never completely end, you will always be linked by your kids. But it can change. You don't have to be more to each other than co-parents, and as long as you take that seriously, that can work out just fine. And, imo, better for the kids, than having unhappily married parents. I say this as a child of happily divorced parents.

[1] The article itself links further, to something about why evolutionary psychologists think men like blondes with big boobs. That might all be true for all I know, but it sounded ridiculous, so until I get better explanations, I choose to be an unbeliever :o)

[2] There are reasons for this, involving the fact that my parents are divorced, and I'm selfish about christmas.

No, really, I am. I just don't look like it.

I've been reading so much stuff about sexism, and racism, and the boob debacle...and so much of it has been really thought provoking and...dangit, I want to say think-worthy, my swenglish filter must be out of whack. It's a mess in my head right now, so this is probably gonna come out wrong.

But I've reached a conclusion. A few conclusions actually.

1. Living is like driving - if you try to do it consciously it becomes impossible. The only way it is even remotely possible to be the person I'd like to be with regards to the environment, sexism, racism, ablism, animal rights, eradicating poverty, and so on and so forth and gaaah, exhaustion - is if I can manage to make the right attitudes subconscious, instead of the wrong ones. I despair of this ever actually happening fully, but I guess I can but try.

2. We're all men, more or less. Which is to say, sexism isn't about men, or women. It's about a pattern, or several, in society, that gets ascribed to men and women. But if women aren't making themselves conscious of these patterns, they behave the same way men do, and think the same things men do. Or, rather, in accordance with the male pattern. Which isn't really a male pattern, but "the norm" - which gets ascribed to men, and in many ways is more advantageous for men than women, because it's developed in a world where men have largely been the ones with the power.

My point is this. When I dress in a way that I find sexy, I do it for me, because I want to feel sexy - but what I find sexy in women is what men find sexy in women. So even if I do dress "for me" - I dress to please what is commonly called "the male gaze" - because that's my gaze too. Because that's what I've been "taught" - by which I mean, that's what I've osmotically absorbed from the society I live in. I have no way of knowing if this is what I'd be attracted to even if I'd grown up without ever being exposed to the current norms.

The same way, women have the same subconscious assumptions about women that men do - because these are not exclusively male opinions - they're societal opinions. So we think of each other as silly chickens if we don't guard against it. We think of each other as slutty or asking for it when wearing short skirts if we don't guard against it. And so on.

There's really no difference. Except, that since we are both on the receiving and giving ends these things are easier for us to spot - so we tend to be the ones who complain. And then you feel attacked.

You shouldn't. It's not about you. It's about all of us.

I'm reading Obama's autobiography at the moment (Dreams From My Father - a later post on that) - and it reminded me of something I've thought of quite a lot lately.

Pretty much all of the book is about feeling alienated and unsure of your place in the world - and unhappy with the places you find. A lot of it is about issues of race. He writes about his desire to figure out what it really means being black in America, he writes about the class and race divides. He writes about going to Kenya and resenting white tourists there for the way they walk around comfortably as though they own the place - without the insecurities of someone who has been conquered and ruled over.

Today I read a gay magazine called QX at lunch, and there was an article about showing your affections in public. They had asked people to share how they felt about being publicly affectionate, and interviewed two couples about it. The interviews and the letters people had writen talked about being scared, uncomortable, apprehensive and sef-conscious about things like holding hands in the street or kissing in public.

And I don't get it. Or, I do, but I don't. I've never worried about what it means to be white. I've never hesitated about holding hands in public.[1] I dont understand the why of these worries - I don't get what the big deal is. Surely people are people, you are who you are. And I question: Why do gay people need special home decorating articles? Arent their sofas more or less the same as those owned by straight people?

But then I say to myself that I have never had to. I have never had to define myself in any of these terms. I am part of the ruling class, the majority. I am a white middle class person living in a western country, with well educated parents and getting my law degree. I am hetersexual and living in a traditional monogamous male-female relationship. I am who this world is modelled around - and that's why I don't get it.

But then, if I take a step back from the particulars, of course I understand. Some of it at least. I am a woman. Every time I get pissed off about someone assuming male=human, every time I envy men for their absolute unquestioning belief that they belong and deserve whatever they get, every time I hear a woman play the bimbo-card, I get it.

Some of it.

Because I don't question myself, I question the system. I don't get defeated, I get righteously pissed off. Because I do have confidence, I do believe I have just as much right to this place in the world as anyone else. And I am not afraid to be myself.

Perhaps we can all only really see the problems that directly affect ourselves - just as Niklas will never quite get my feminist rage, I will never quite get Obama's racial insecurity - and the best we can hope for is that we can be humble enough to realise that there are issues that we don't see, and try to identify with those who do.



[1] Not actually true - but there were other reasons that particular time.

Something that's come up a lot lately is the strongness of female characters in films and on TV. There was, for example, a discussion on afp recently, and it came up in response to my last post as well. And something I find very relevant is what is in fact meant by a "strong female character" - and what is it that makes it important and good.

On afp there was a discussion about the female characters of Firefly, and whether they were strong. Most people seemed to think that they were - citing ability to kick ass, be a mechanic or a soldier, having strong opinions, taking care of yourself. At least one poster said they weren't - citing lack of leadership, passivness, whinyness and two-dimensionality.

So what is "strong" in this context? And what is a "strong female character" as opposed to a "weak female character"?

First of all I think you need to distinguish between "strong person" and "strong character", because to my mind, the adjective "strong" has a slightly different meaning in the two contexts, and both must be kept distinct from the concept of physical strength.

A strong person is someone with inner strenght, with integrity, with opinions, the ability to take care of herself and so on. Inara and Zoe in Serenity are quite clearly strong persons, River however, isn't (she's barely a person at all). Kaylee is somewhere in between - too uncertain and insecure to be really strong, not weak enough to be really weak.

Edited
A strong character is a character that is clearly portrayed, three dimensional, has a strong precence and is memorable. In Serenity, I'd argue that River is a stronger character than Inara and Zoe. I honestly don't remember quite if and how Kaylee's character differs from the show to the movie, but in the show she's definitely a strong character (as is Inara, and to some extent Zoe, but River not so much.).

A central character is a character who is important for the plot, who is a lead or otherwise drives the plot. I conflated this with strong character before, but as silly_swordsman rightly pointed out, that's not really correct, or helpful. River is definitely central in Serenity, but a lot more peripheral in Firefly. None of the other women are central characters in Serenity while I'd say Inara and Kaylee are more central in Firefly.

A non-fireflyverse example of the difference might be Marvin, from finding Nemo. He's a central character, he's the lead, the one the plot centers on, but he's a weak character, he barely has a personality and serves at "straight guy", the hub the movie spins around, but who doesn't really take part.
/Edited

A strong woman, if that is to be distinguished from strong persons in general, is, I think, generally accepted as being one who isn't dependent on a man, or men. Who stands on her own two legs and isn't an accessory or appendix to anyone. Here, again, I'd say Inara and Zoe are stronger women than River. Kaylee is a stronger woman than she is person.

Generally the idea of the "strong female character" is taken to be a positive thing because it's supposed to be empowering for women, to be non-stereotypical, to be equal. But I don't think that's neccesarily true. River, for example, is hardly a good role model, or empowered, self sufficient or equal - but, if I'm to be believed, still a strong character.

So what does one mean when one says "strong female character"? Is it strength of personality, integrity, portrayal, empoweredness or role-modelhood that is meant? Unless that question is answered, I don't think it's possible to have a really fruitful discussion on the subject.

...but sometimes I wish I wasn't. I wish I could just watch movies without analysing them to bits, getting annoyed at details that probably mean nothing.

Saw Rattatouille last night, and it's a very funny film. It has quite a long lead up though, and it took me a while to get into, which was when my critical mind looked for flaws, and found quite a few. I have to get them out of my system, and the bf gets really pissy when I complain to him, so you, dear readers, will have to suffer instead.

( nagging on Rattatouille and Stardust, avoid if you feel like having details nagged at ruins your film experience )

(phonecall dealt with - a relative is in the hospital, for something scary that we don't know what it is yet)

I have always done fairly well in school, it's always been easy for me, though I've never excelled. I've never really tried to. But with very few exceptions, my being good has earned me nothing in return. Nothing. This, I will honestly say, is a source of resentment for me.

When I was little I was good at maths - my grandfather, who valued mathematical skills over "softer" skills, always enjoyed this, so we'd play games with simple equations and similar (if a=1 and b=2, how much is a+b? that sort of thing). This was when I was very little, 4 years old maybe. And I enjoyed it, it was fun.

In school we had something called "the small-steps method" when it came to maths. Basically it meant that by third grade we were still adding simple numbers and multiplication seemed like a distant dream. I was sooo bored I didn't finish a single maths book. But I did huge numbers of the little extra practice folders we had with multiplication, division and more fun maths.

By fourth grade any interest in maths I had ever had had been resoundly killed off, and I was never more than middling, and I never worked at it. Despite this I was in the top third, top quarter, or so of my class in grades 7-9. Because of a then recent school reform we didn't have "general" and "special" maths anymore - everyone, regardless of talent or interest, took maths together.

The biggest consequence of this was that it got harder for the teachers to teach. Those that needed extra help were carted off to another room where they got a special teacher who could give them more attention. The rest of us sat in the regular classroom. The teacher would then do weekly, or biweekly, run-throughs of the stuff we were to deal with that week. This was done at a pace that would suit the majority of the class decently well - so the average pace. Those of us who were further ahead got little or no help, and instead had to help our fellow students, because the teachers didn't have time for everyone. None of this helped me get any more enthusiastic about the subject.

In fourth grade we also started studying English, which, it turned out, I was really good at. At the end of grade five I started reading novels in English (Eddings), first with a dictionary close at hand of course, but it worked, I could do it. I started reading the Discworld novels in English and read all the funny bits out to my poor mother, who corrected my pronounciation, and I learned a lot.

In school however, not so much. When we read out loud to the teacher I'd be passed over, because "you don't need the practice". When I raised my hand to answer questions the frequent response was a sigh and "doesn't anyone else know?", or I was simply ignored. Unsurprisingly I stopped raising my hand other than very rarely. This continued all through school, including high school. Grades 8-9 were an exception - my teacher then was a woman from southern England, who actually encouraged and praised me, and made me feel like it was OK to be proud of my skill.

But I could never talk about being happy with my score at a test, or say that I was worried beforehand, or anything like that. Because all my friends would just sigh and say "whatever, you always do well".

This, incidentally, is a very common stance. If anyone ever points out that talented kids don't get the support they need in school - the responce is always "the good ones always pull through anyway, they don't need the help". And we do, we pull through. But wouldn't it be nice if sometimes someone excelled? If they actually got to develop to their full potential? If they got to feel good about being talented?

A man I knew who works at the National Agency for Education described the current education policy as "everyone finishes last, at the same time". Which is a pretty good description of how I feel about it. This is our glorious socialist heritage - don't reduce injustice by helping everyone rise, no, we do it by squashing everyone to the same height as the shortest person.

Not that there aren't good things too - security, wellfare - but the school system has been raped. There is no room to grow, to shine, to enjoy being good at anything. And why has this been done? Because of fairness. It is unfair to sort people according to skill, so we force them into situations that don't work, and don't reward them when they are good - because that would be pointing out to the rest that they aren't.

I don't know anyone who feels that way, they way the politicians seem afraid of - none of my friends (regardless of their academic interest or achievements) have ever felt put upon or unfairly treated because they were taught at an apropriate level. Because they were in the "general" group in maths or English.

But I do know a lot of people who felt stupid and worthless when they couldn't keep up with others in their class, that made trouble and upset the class instead because they didn't follow. And I know from talking to them that on those occasions when they were separated out, and were taught at an apropriate level, and in a way that suited them, they were much happier. And felt that they could learn, that maybe they weren't so stupid after all.

Why should this be so hard to understand? Why is it so evil to talk about the problems that face talented kids? Why is it seen as good, as enough, that they "pull through"?

Religious persecution is bad, very bad, like any other persecution. But why is it supposedly modern and democratic to give religious people, and religious freaks more often than not, a carte blanche to be assholes?

If I, non-believer that I am, went out and preached that homosexuals are a cancer on society I'd be arrested and sentenced for it. But if you're a priest it's OK, it falls under freedom of religion. (Never mind the mind blowingly huge cop-out of the Swedish supreme judges...)

If I went out and said "Hey, I think we should change the law to allow the slow and painful slaughter of animals, because I think it makes the meat tastier if we don't stun them before hanging them from the ceiling by their hind legs and cutting their throats" people would call me a barbaric nutcase. But if you're an Imam you get the backing of the Ombudsman Against Ethnic Discrimination.

Because god forbid (hah!) anyone should ever suggest that maybe, rules that were made up hundreds of years ago in another world might need a re-think. That maybe there are more important things in the world than allowing stupidity in the name or religion. That maybe the whole concept of freedom of religion discriminates against those of us that don't have one.

The world needs to move forward. If religion can't, I say leave it beind.

The hardest thing in this world is disagreeing with the tolerant point of view. Because it gets you crusified. You have to be tolerant, of everything, because not being tolerant is fascist and evil and unthinkable. It's imperalistic, racist, culture-centric and I don't know what. And you mustn't do it.

There is no right and wrong, only points of view. Punishment is bad, criminals are victims, everyone is equal.

I find myself constantly tricking myself into agreeing with things I don't actually agree with, because it's the tolerant point of view, and so it must be right. And it pisses me off.

I believe that sometimes there is a right and a wrong, everyone and everything is not equal and you can't always see things from the individual's point of view. You have to look at structures, and at the big picture. Sometimes what's good in the long run, in the big picture, is not what's good for the individual right now. And sometimes you then have to sacrifice what's good for the individual right now. Sometimes that individual doesn't know what's good for them on their own.

I think there is a difference between a chippendale and a female stripper, they are not equal situations. And I think that telling young women that it's OK to want to be strippers or lap dancers, may in fact not be OK.

Sometimes our free will is not free, and sometimes it needs to be fought. Do all the women who choose from their own free will to stay home with the kids actually choose it freely? Do all the men who choose to work away their children's childhood without seeing them, choose it freely? Will the system ever change if we keep "choosing" the roles we are given?

Until there actually is true equality, acting as though there was may actually do more harm than good. That's what I believe.

The last year or so I've barely watched any TV at all - there's just too much crap, and the good stuff it's easier to watch in other ways.

But tonight I'm home alone, and flicking through channels, and I've just seen the most disturbing things.

The first was Dr. Phil. They showed a young woman shooting up, and they had blurred the needle. Not the syringe, just the needle. What's with that?!

The second, and infinitely more disturbing, was The Search for the Next Pussycat Doll. The Pussycat Dolls are a group put together to be sexy Vegas dancers, basically glorified lap dancers. They were put together by a woman who looks about as genuine and classy as...well, Vegas.

The show is a competion to become one of the six back-up dancers/singers of this scantily clad show group. What's scary is the sheer number of young girls and women (most in their teens) who show up to try out, and how completely into this whole thing they are. All these girls are completely desperate for a chance to strut around on stage in push-up bras. They, and the utterly terrifying manager of the band, talk about this as a career, about being strong self confident women, about finding themselves.

And it is so unbelievably objectifying. And so utterly horrifying to watch these people talking with utter sincerity of how much they have grown, how wonderful the manager is, how wonderful the group and the opportunity is, how these girls have been turned from larvae into butterflies.

Shudder.