Theory to Praxis: Love Yourself Program

As a child, I was always told that I was overweight, fat, chunky, or too big for my age. The constant pressure of my family telling me I needed to go for a walk and my physician saying “We need to change your diet and include some more physical activity in your life”. I am sure this is not uncommon because societal pressures influence people’s mind every day. This affected my life and happiness for so much of my life but this does not have to happen to other people too.  

Looking through clubs and organizations at Davidson, I was shocked that there wasn’t one regarding body positivity as much as it is being discussed and presented in our society today. Yes, there is Changing Minds which offers information and support regarding mental disorders on campus which can include eating disorders, however, this campus needs something more distinctive to help gain awareness for body positivity. Something to make people feel more confident in their own skin as they should be. 

With this in mind, I propose to create a program at Davidson that focuses on providing information and support to anyone who feels uncomfortable in their own body and skin. This program would be called Love Yourself and its goal is to create a safe space for people to discuss and support other people who feel the same way. In addition to this goal, Love Yourself would partner with Changing Minds to add additional support and awareness. 

The program, Love Yourself, is open to absolutely everyone with the intentions of finding confidence in their image as well as assisting others who have similar thoughts and ideas. With meetings once a week, the program will create an environment that stimulates personal growth and activism. Love Yourself will consist of workshops which can include reading pieces like Deb Burgard’s “What is Health at Every Size” as we discussed in our course this semester as well as experimenting with projects such as creating body positivity posters around campus to help gain awareness for it. Our mental capacity is so important, especially during these times in college, so it is vital that students have a space where they can unleash their frustrations or concerns with themselves as well as participate in fun activities and learnings regarding these issues.

Overall, the intentions of this program are to allow anyone to come and discuss their feelings about themselves with complete confidence that they are not alone as well as engaging in the progressive movement in body positivity. People will have a safe space and large support group that blocks out the judgements of society which hopefully grows the community of support for this topic. The discourse in this program will be vital to help change the harmful impacts of society on people all around campus and eventually the world.  

Feminist Mixtape: *Can’t Hold Us Down* by Christina Aguilera

Can’t Hold Us Down by Christina Aguilera

Christina Aguilera is a strong feminist icon. With countless songs regarding feminism and female empowerment, Christina Aguilera consistently emphasizes the importance of respecting women in society. The song Can’t Hold Us Down by Christina Aguilera was released in the year 2002 which was shortly after the third feminist wave that occurred during the 1990s. In the song, she focuses on the double standards pit against women in contrast to men as well as the restrictions women face due to their silencing authorized by men and society.  

In the beginning of the song, Aguilera sings “Should I keep quiet just because I am a woman”. This line presents the familiar idea of silencing women and the assumptions that a woman’s word has no value. This idea is not only seen between the exchange of men and women on a daily basis, but it was and is also seen within the cultures of third world families as was discussed in Uma Narayan’s Contesting Cultures. In Narayan’s piece, she mentions how she was taught that “good daughters hold their tongue”, and this phrase alone embodies the circulated idea of women’s silencing in all aspects of a woman’s life (Narayan 398). In regards to Aguilera questioning that she should keep quiet because she is a woman, she later sings “Take a deep breath and say it loud”. This phrase inspires woman that listen to the song to voice their thoughts and opinions because they simply have the right and should not have any fear.  

Later on in the song, Aguilera sings “The guy gets all the glory the more he can score, while the girl can do the same yet you call her a whore”. These two lines in the song are powerful because it exemplifies the double standard between men and women presented in our world. It raises the question of why should men be able to do one thing while women are shamed to do the same? Aguilera wants to declare how this idea is a problem and her call to action comes when she sings “All my ladies come together and make a change”. 

One main critique of Christina Aguilera’s song is her fail to include and mention the LGBTQ community. Her consistent usage of male and female relations makes the assumption that these acts of silencing and double standards only occur to heterosexual members of the community and exclude other prominent relationships between transmen/women.  

Overall, Can’t Hold Us Down presents circulated ideas and focuses regarding the feminist community and calls for female empowerment and confidence.  

Book Review: *Visibility Interrupted: Rural Queer Life and the Politics of Unbecoming*

Would you consider a tomato a fruit or a vegetable? You are most likely thinking that a tomato is obviously a vegetable because they have more of a savory taste rather than a sweet one when comparing it to other fruits like a banana. You are also probably thinking it is a vegetable because when would someone ever use tomatoes when baking or eating desserts? Although these are all logical thoughts, that is a prime and simple example of stereotyping. Now it is not as severe as stereotyping an individual per say, however, it is stereotyping and assuming things nonetheless. More severe cases of stereotyping are applied when doing it to an individual based on their race, gender, class, or any other forms of social categorizations and identity. Now, I mention stereotyping because in the monograph Visibility Interrupted by Carly Thomsen, she focuses her studies on one specific term that applies labeling to its meaning: metronormativity. Understanding the term ‘metronormativity’ is something that readers should suggest prior to diving in on Carly Thomsen’s monograph. When breaking the word up, it can become easier to grasp the concept. ‘Metro’ or a ‘metropolitan area’ is generally a region that consists of a large urban population. “Normativity’ is a term that refers to behavior based on a standard or norm and it carries the notions of social pressure. When looking at the word ‘metronormativity,’ it can be comparable to the word ‘heteronormativity’ which is when the sexual orientation of an individual is preferred and normalized to be heterosexual. These two terms are comparable because ‘metronormativity’ is derived from a similar context. It exerts the idea that queer life and identity are inseparable from urban areas, therefore saying that the norm or standard is that queer identity thrives, flourishes, and remains in the urban core opposed to in rural life. Metronormativity is an idea that can be referred to as stereotyping. Believing and saying that queer life belongs and is more prominent and important in urban areas and not in rural areas is the same thing as believing and saying that a tomato belongs in the vegetable category and not the fruit category. Thomsen establishes the idea of metronormativity from the beginning of her monograph and branches her study off the opposite idea: rural queer life. 

Carly Thomsen is the author of the scholarly monograph Visibility Interrupted: Rural Queer Life and the Politics of Unbecoming that was published in this year: 2021. She resides in Vermont where she is an assistant professor of gender, sexuality, and feminist studies at Middlebury College. In her monograph, she wants to examine “the experiences, desires, and politics of LGBTQ women in the rural upper Midwestern United States in relation to broader ideas about rural place and LGBTQ sexuality” (Introduction ix). Her focus on specifically women coincides with her profession at Middlebury College regarding feminist studies and her outlook on their visibility inspires authenticity and freedom. 

Beginning her monograph, Carly Thomsen introduces a problem within the LGBTQ community: There is a visibility problem and a rurality problem. The sense of metronormativity dominance is constantly circulated throughout different communities and this fact leads to Thomsen’s main argument in this monograph. She states “It is my position that rural LGBTQ women are illegible not to rural people but to urban people; self-identified liberals, progressives, and leftists; and gay rights groups, and, further, that rural LGBTQ women become illegible through visibility discourses” (Introduction x). Following the introduction of her main position, Thomsen then establishes two important court cases in the first chapter of her monograph involving two members of the LGBTQ community. The first case infers a hate crime (murder crime to be specific) committed towards a gay man, Matthew Shepard, who resided in the Midwest. The second case regards a lesbian woman, Jene Newsome, who was discharged from the military under the policy Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell due to her hometown police department in the Midwest outing her. Although both cases differ in their own terms of context, each make their contribution to the assumptions made that visibility is desirable and politically valuable across geographic locales which illuminates the centrality of visibility politics to metronormativity. These assumptions inspire Thomsen’s curiosity in rural queer life regarding women which she further explores in the following chapters. 

 In chapter 2, Thomsen addresses the topic of coming out. She analyzes how many gay rights activists worship this understanding and process of “coming out of the closet” and LGBTQ scholars often criticize it. She believes that LGBTQ studies scholars have complicated the process of coming out. For example, she mentions how Mignon Moore, an LGBTQ scholar, “critiques those who represent ‘coming out’ as a linear process’” (41). Her study in this chapter analyzes her interviewees’ articulations of their relationships to visibility, specifically focusing on their disinterest in visibility, lack of identification with their sexuality, and overall, the role of rurality in shaping their positions. Thomsen concludes that “LGBTQ women in the rural Midwest can feel out and visible without speaking about their sexuality, identifying strongly with it, or politicizing it” as many gay rights activists who reside in urban areas do (57). Moving on to chapter 3, Thomsen intertwines LGBTQ and disability visibility in order to emphasize the hardships faced when struggling for visibility. Thomsen considers “moments in which disability and queerness come into contact and illustrate that visibility discourses can compel the erasure of material bodies, and in the process, render certain (spatialized and racialized) experiences obsolete” (64). Chapter 4 shifts to something different from disability as discussed in chapter 3, and now discusses queer labors. Thomsen focuses on the argument that coming out in one’s own workplace is work itself because it is a process of becoming visible. The constant demand from gay rights supporters to come out at work stresses the prevalence of metronormativity in not only urban areas but also rural areas. Thomsen concludes chapter 4 with the idea that “activists’ beliefs that all LGBTQ workers desire to be out at work and their related stitching of authenticity to visibility… are misguided at best and, at worst, write out of LGBTQ subjectively those for whom sum assumptions do not work” (116). Lastly, in chapter 5, Thomsen reflects on what we might learn about the relationship between metronormativity and visibility politics by observing the changes and similarities between rural queerness over the course of the last decade. She comes to find that long ago when Flickr was a popular source of social media, the LGBTQ side of it was dominated by men and this did not change much when Instagram came rolling around. The difference found was that although mostly displaying gay men, Flickr did not have much opportunity or accounts with LGBTQ members while when Instagram came out, there were more accounts with LGBTQ visibility. However, these accounts were still more dominated by men and more specifically, they were men in urban areas, not rural. In this monograph, Thomsen intentionally criticizes those who feel the need to politicize their queerness. Those who identify as LGBTQ in rural areas have developed more practices of freedom because they manage their queerness in the sense of how they feel most authentic to themselves.  

Carly Thomsen’s most prominent methodology used within her monograph is the use of interviews and having a core focus group; that focus group being women in the rural upper Midwestern United States. Throughout each of her different chapters, she focuses on different branches regarding visibility politics, however, she gathers different interviewees for each chapter. She allows for her interviewees to tell her their stories with no limits, rarely asking many specific questions and just letting them come to their own conclusions with their queerness in regards to where they live and how they identify themselves. With this being said, the data that Thomsen is collecting from these women is much more qualitative than quantitative. For example, in chapter 2 as I mentioned before, Thomsen interviews women to see how they view their relationship to visibility. These interviews helped Thomsen conclude that “demands to be visible actually interfere with [rural women’s] ability to be themselves, live their sexualities and engage politics in way that feel authentic to them” (44). Exemplified in chapter 3 is Thomsen interviewing women in the rural Midwest who are not only queer but also impaired with a disability. She does this in order to “consider the existence of post-racial and post-spatial epistemologies” in her interviewees’ narratives in regards to visibility politics (73). Thomsen concludes in this chapter with the help of the interviews that post-racial and post-spatial ideologies are reproduced as connections between sexuality and disability through discourses of visibility is articulated by each of the women interviewed. In chapter 4, Thomsen interviews women in the workforce and allows them to explain their perception on their visibility and outness in their place of work. One interviewee says, “I could be fired for being gay. So that’s a little bit scary” (114). Interviews with honesty like this helps Thomsen validate her concerns on employment discrimination and further her argument that gay rights activists demand visibility, however, it is not always the favored option in regards to rural queers. Drawing from these examples of how Thomsen uses interviews in order to construct her research and validate her claim, it is evident that the qualitative data she has obtained assists her argument that visibility politics do flow with the idea that metronormativity grants. Rural queer live is there, and it may not be prominent, however, it resides how those want it to. 

Something I would consider a strength of this monograph, disregarding the content within it, is the year that it was published. Visibility Interrupted was published in the year 2021, which means that the research was conducted in close proximity to the year it was published. Now transferring to the content in the monograph, the year it was published and the time in which the research was conducted gives accurate information in relation to the interviewee’s experiences in life and scholarly views on LGBTQ politics. The methodology of using interviews to gather research information also helps this scholarly monograph excel in its relatability towards readers as well as in its qualitative content which assists the author in validating her argument. The specificity of the women interviewed help Thomsen keep consistent research that readers will find accurate and reliable. The fact that Thomsen chose to focus on rural areas in the Midwest also helps contribute into finding interests in the monograph because it is not a super prominent topic that is researched amongst LGBTQ scholars. 

In contrast, something that holds this monograph back is its inability to have a consistent idea or argument flowing throughout the whole book. For instance, in the beginning, the term ‘metronormativity’ is introduced and described. Thomsen gave this term much importance and significance and set up the foundation for a monograph that would incorporate it often. Despite the few mentions of metronormativity throughout the monograph as each chapter moved to different topics, the term could have been more elaborated on in regards to the topics in each chapter. For instance, in chapter 4, queer labors are discussed. Thomsen concluded that women do not have to feel obligated to come out at their place of work if they feel it interferes with their authenticity and freedom and expression of choice. However, Thomsen could have included the idea of metronormativity in this chapter more than she did. The idea that women in rural areas do not feel the need to provoke their visibility in their place of work as much as women in urban areas do centers around the ideas that metronormativity generates. This idea is that queer life thrives more in urban areas and visibility politics are more prominent there. Overall, Thomsen could have included some slight elaborations and connections more in her monograph. 

Carly Thomsen’s Visibility Interrupted: Rural Queer Life and the Politics of Unbecoming sets to deconstruct the stereotypes of rural life in general. She intends to set rural life apart from the homogenous repetitive assumptions of the area and tries to reinforce when rurality and queerness encounter each other. Despite her lack of elaboration on what seemed like a key idea in her argument, Thomsen achieves finding the different perspectives on queer visibility in the rural upper Midwest of the United States as well as the politics that lie within it. Carly Thomsen calls that “taking on the cult of visibility will require that we examine its many iterations and mutations” which will allow for growth within the LGBTQ community overall.  

Works Cited

Thomsen, Carly Ann. Visibility Interrupted Rural Queer Life and the Politics of Unbecoming. University of Minnesota Press, 2021.

Why can only white men drink beer?

A Budweiser beer advertisement from the 1950s

What do you first think of whenever you look at this ad? Budweiser is a very popular beer company, so it particularly stands out. When I first looked at it, I thought to myself “Hmm, this advertisement is probably from the 1900s”. Budweiser created this advertisement in the 1950s and the intended audience of it seems to be pretty clear: white men. The purpose can also be quite clear: sell Budweiser beer to white men. These are the things you can decipher when you just take a slight glance at this advertisement. 

As you dive deeper into the symbolic art that is presented in the advertisement, these things unearth more purpose and intention from the advertiser. Let us talk think about and analyze the actions of the two people in this ad. For instance, looking at the white man, he holds a hammer. As he is holding this hammer, it seems he is working hard on building something and we can assume this is either something for home or it is a part of his job. When looking at the white woman who we can assume is his wife, she is pouring him a glass of Budweiser beer. There is nothing hardworking about what she is doing, she is just simply acting upon her husband’s needs. This image sparks more controversial topics. In the 1950s, they would say “Well that is the role of a women, isn’t it?”. They would assume that the role of the women is to take care of her husband and fulfill all of his needs. Whenever we compare these two actions of the man and the woman, it really reflects those assumed and assigned gender roles that society claimed to be “right” in the 1900s. The typical woman staying at home, tending to her husband, the breadwinner. In contrast, the husband is the hardworking spouse in the relationship who has a job, does the “handyman” work at home, and acts upon all the “masculine” things society expects him to do. Just by looking at the actions of the two in the ad, it easily already brings those gender assumptions to the audience’s minds. However, when looking at the advertising techniques of Budweiser, you can question them on why they ignited these prominent gender roles in the ad. Well, since it was the 1950s, it was assumed that after a long day of hard work, men needed to decompress, so their wives could pour them some Budweiser beer at the end of the day. 

These points can also be proven by the facial expressions of the man and the woman in the advertisement. By the looks of the man’s face with his wrinkled forehead lines and his subtle yet irritated facial expression, he seems to be stressed out and tired from a long day of labor and responsibilities. Let’s remember, the 1950s were times when gender roles were prominent. Where the golden standard was the men working and laboring during the day while the women stayed at home with the children. So, because men are stressed out at the end of the day, this is why Budweiser aims at this audience of white men who have jobs. Budweiser tries to convince you that alcohol, specifically their beer, will help you decompress and relax at the end of the day. Now, looking at the intended audience of the advertisement, it sparks conversation on the assumptions of gender roles. For example, why is Budweiser assuming that only white men drink beer? Why can’t they advertise it to women or even non-white men? This question does have an obvious answer which has to do with the time that the advertisement was released, however, this only shows how prominent these gender stereotypes and standards as well as racial issues were during the 1950s. It shows how companies and businesses convinced society that men have specific roles and women have specific roles. It shows how there was so much assumption on what race was superior during the time and which were inferior. Moving on, let’s start looking at the women pouring the Budweiser beer for who we assume is her husband. She looks so content while pouring the beer. She looks as if she has no problems in this world. That may be true, or it may not be. Budweiser is trying to convince the audience that since it is the 1950s where women are at home while men are working during the day, the least they could do for their hardworking husbands is pour them a glass of Budweiser beer. Budweiser is trying to force these couples into these roles in order to advertise their product.  

Looking back at the advertising strategies that Budweiser tried to use, it may have been effective during the 1950s. However, that does not make it necessarily “right” to advertise in the first place. When people look at the advertisement in modern time, there are so many gender, racial, and class issues within the ad. However, we can learn to appreciate that advertisements such as this one was produced in history, because we can now analyze them and learn from them. That is the major takeaway we can obtain from media that occurred a long time ago, and that is what we need for social justice. 

Writing for Feministing / www.feministing.com