The Politics of Our Selves

 

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Society is built on learned behaviors based on the values of the time. The most impactful source of power comes from social constructs. Social constructs start to have an effect on people as soon as we begin to identify as an individual being. A child will start to look at social queues in order to begin to form their individual personality, and a lot of it is based on what they are able to observe others doing. We mimic behaviors in order to belong to the group. As children, it is very easy to take to heart a lot of what we are told, and there is little speculation on why things are the way they are for children.  The autonomy levels of a person keep expanding as we get older because we are better able to think of ourselves in separated ways. Amy Allen, in her work, will take a deeper look into the autonomy of subjects and frame it along some of Foucault’s theories.

The politics of the self is centered around synthesizing the ideas of many theories. The first thing in the introduction of the is Foucault. The title of the book is taken from one of Foucault quotes; in the quote from Foucault, he is talking about the manner in which to understand the self, there is less of a need to understand the positive aspects of the self, but rather the way in which outside influences such as history and technology have come to affect the politics of our selves. Amy Allen, in her work, she works to analyze the power of subjection and looking at autonomy as a force of self-construction. The book is an intersection of feminism and critical theories. Along with the theoretical accounts, she looks into analyzing the subordination caused by race, class, and sexuality. Her approach critiques these subordinations and considers the social changes that need to come about in order for the changes to be accomplished. In the introduction she states she wishes to create a “Framework that illuminates both aspects of the politics of the self” (Allen, para 4). The two aspects she is talking about in regards to the politics of the self are: power and autonomy (Allen, Para 4).

Allen is a Professor of Philosophy and Women’s and Gender Studies at Dartmouth College. She has done some of her work focusing on how gender subordination must not only encompass race, class, sexuality and gender but must also confront issues dealing with social structures and the effects of colonialism (DesAutels). She brings in a very philosophical approach to the way in which she evaluates the politics of the self and how they are built in a very intersectional manner. The way she writes the book reflects her way of interconnecting ideas because she creates a discourse among many of the different theories relating to feminism, sexuality, and race among other things. Power and autonomy play a big role in the development of social structures because power is the driving force, while autonomy relates to the development of the self within the complex power structures.

A lot of her arguments are integrated with looking at a lot of Foucault’s ideas. What we looked at in class was Foucault’s “repressive hypothesis.” The repressive hypothesis believes that since the rise of the bourgeoisie in the Victorian era, any outflow of simply pleasurable activities has been frowned upon. As a result, sex has been confined to more private spaces and was restricted in open discourses. The only practical and accepted manner of display of sexual discourse took place between a husband and a wife. Sex outside these confines is not simply prohibited, but repressed. That is, there is not simply an effort to prevent extra-marital sex, but also an effort to make it unspeakable and unthinkable. Discourse on sexuality is confined to marriage. The power structure in his idea relates to how the book analyzes the subordination that is caused by repressive discourse. The autonomy of the person is therefore hindered because of the restrictive nature of the power of social norms and ideologies.

Discourse is important to Foucault because to him, language and knowledge are closely linked to power. Speech and writing are not simply the communication of facts that occurs in a vacuum, but instead, they give momentum to ideas and criticism. In her second chapter, she evaluates Foucault’s relationship with Kant’s work. “What Foucault is calling for is a critique of critique, which means not only a criticism of Kant’s project for the way in which it closes off the very opening for thought that it had created”(Allen, ch 2) She evaluates the different theorist through the lens of Foucault. In this, she is trying to relate the arguments by saying that Kant’s writing transcends and helps him shape the notion of subjectivity. To Foucault, Subjectivity is a means to explore the conditions in which subjects are created via discourse and sociocultural conditions. These conditions allow for an analysis of the self in order to evaluate the modern self. What is helpful in her evaluations is how she brings together the ideas jumping back and forth between the different theorist in order to create an argument of her own. In her evaluation, a lot of the theories, such as the one mentioned above, are in discourse with each other in helping to expand the idea of the subjectivity and how people are created through various elements. When she mentions power in parallel to Foucault she ties it into the relationship it has with the repressive hypothesis. She mentions in chapter three how power is a relation of repression, her aim with this is to reconstruct autonomy and argue about how it extends to power and subjectivity (Allen, Ch 3).

One of the things I liked about the book that makes it have a strong argument is the intersection of the different works of theory she incorporates into her evaluation of power. The book has a very introspective form to writing. It doesn’t directly ask the reader to look at themselves through her personal theory alone, but instead, it synthesizes a lot of the different theories of subjectivity that help create the individual in relation to power and autonomy. The points she makes are easy to understand, because before starting to read there are subheadings within the chapter to help guide you to her main arguments. Having the sub-headings allows for her work to follow a flow and move from the different ideas of power, subordination, and autonomy.

There was a lot of theories we have not discussed yet in class, but it was interesting to be exposed to a wider world other thoughts regarding critical theories. What I think is a point of improvement would be, on the basis of no being as familiar with all of the different theories, would be to give a quick summary as to the main points of the theories. In the book, she talks about the different theories and how they are related to each other, but that is assuming you are familiar with all of their theories and have a deeper understanding of them. If her goal would be for a wider range of people to understand her work, framing the theories before going into deeper analysis of them and making connections would make it easier for someone like me to better understand a lot of her arguments. She does go into the contextualization of Habermas and Foucault at the end of her book, but I feel like the contextualization should occur earlier on in the work. Her points on power would be much clearer with the context.

The book was very thought-provoking especially in the way it exposed me to more of the critical theories. I liked looking at the relationships between power and autonomy and their intersections along with race class and gender. The book included theories I had not been exposed to, so I would say some of the things I read went over my head. What I did understand I thought was interesting. I think this book would be better enjoyed by people who are focused on gender and sexuality, or even philosophy. For someone looking to learn about the different theories, the book would not be as great. Her work on Foucault was definitely interesting, and if you would like to learn about a more in-depth analysis of the repressive hypothesis and how it ties in with power and autonomy this is a good book.

Citations

Allen, Amy. The Politics of Our Selves : Power, Autonomy, and Gender in Contemporary Critical Theory.New York: Columbia University Press, 2007. Web. New Directions in Critical Theory; New directions in critical theory.

DesAutels, Peggy. “Amy Allen: November 2013 – APA Committee on the Status of Women.” Amy Allen: November 2013 – APA Committee on the Status of Women. Committee on the Status of Women, 10 Nov. 2013. Web. 25 Oct. 2016. <http://www.apaonlinecsw.org/home/woman_philosopher/amyallennovember2013>.

Fat Gay Men: Girth, Mirth, and the Politics of Stigma Reviewed

While the LGBT movement has gained more support over the last few decades, some groups in the movement still experience discrimination because of the white cisgender groups in the frontlines leaving other marginalized groups in their shadow. Inter groups suffer from intersectionality because they fall under two or more social categorizations in today’s heteronormative society. These groups are often stigmatized and have multiple issues in society. The marginalized groups in LGBT movement often look for a ways they can feel natural and comfortable. The social stigma is so strong that they usually need to get away for a period of time in order to feel confident in their bodies.Image result for fat gay men book

Jason Whitesel, an assistant professor of women’s and gender studies at Pace University, enters the stigmatized world of fat gay men in his book Fat Gay Men: Girth, Mirth, and the Politics of Stigma (2014). Whitesel becomes member of a fat gay men group called Girth & Mirth. His ethnographic study of big gay men is mostly about the Ohio chapter of Girth & Mirth club but it also discusses about the issue more widely. It is a group that provides fat gay men a safe space and support. Stories of members joining when looking for a suicide hotline number for example are really powerful. Whitesel argues that the fat gay men are indeed stigmatized in the LGBT movement because of their size and it is the main reason for their feeling of being excluded. The big men face an awful lot of discrimination and stigmatization in their everyday lives because of their large size. He explains how big gay men are often excluded from the gay community spaces because they are perceived as disgusting and unattractive because of their size. The ideal gay male body according to Whitesel is muscular and skinny. It is a big emotional hit for big gay men that they are not accepted in their own sexuality group because of their size. Whitesel also attends two national fat gay men events with the Girth & Mirth group. One of them is called the super weekend and it is held at Cabana in Oklahoma. The other event is national Convergence in Minnesota. Both of these events have a same idea of creating a safe space for big gay men in our homophobic and sizist society. They need an environment where they are not judged because of their size or sexuality.     Fat gay men are compared to other gay groups throughout the book and even though it ranks at the very bottom of the gay groups, it has a lot of similarities with a group called the bears. Bears are big gay men but their identifying feature is their hairy body type. Whereas fat gay men are seen as emasculate, bears are hairy big guys but are seen as “real men.” Whitesel mainly talks about fat gay men who are part of the Girth & Mirth group but he also talks about other fat gay men who attend the two events I mentioned earlier. Providing safe space is Girth & Mirth’s main purpose and it attacks the stigma of big men by usually gathering over coffee. The dining club method is one of the most effective ways to provide that safe space to club members because eating is the big men’s mutual interest. This works especially well because big men are usually judged when they go out to eat.

Whitesel attends two very different events as a part of his research. First he attends an event called Super Weekend. The event’s purpose is to create a fun and safe environment for big gay men or as Whitesel refers to them as Chubs. The Super Weekend is meant to make everyone feel welcome. The event is held in the largest gay resort in the Southwest in Oklahoma. The other event he attends is a national Convergence on Minnesota. The Convergence is more about promoting the big men’s status in society but it also has similar tendencies to the Super Weekend but on a different scale. Whitesel attended to both of these events as a member of Girth & Mirth club. At Super Weekend he did not reveal his researcher status because of the large group of people. He was perceived as a chaser, a term that the big men give to skinny gays who are attracted to them. At the Convergence he only told some people who he got comfortable with, that he was doing research.

The Super Weekend emphasized chubs’ role as a sexual objects. At the Cabana big men are encouraged to feel just as attractive as any other normal man, because they do not have the pressure of thin-obsessed gay community surrounding them. Partly because of this, the Super Weekend is a hypersexualized event, as we can see from a competition for the doorknob award. The doorknob award is given to the person who has had sex with the most people during the weekend. Things like this make the Super Weekend controversial. It is beneficial for big men to be able to get a weekend away where they can enjoy themselves and have fun both socially and sexually, but it can be over sexualized as well. A similar idea applies to their pool parties during the Super Weekend. When you can feel comfortable because you are with a group of big guys, you are more likely to take your shirt off as well.

The other event that Whitesel participated in was the annual Convergence of big men. It was held in Minneapolis, Minnesota, and had a larger number of participants than the Super Weekend. The Convergence’s purpose was mainly to improve big gay men’s status in the society. It also offered carnival atmosphere, but it was a lot more official than the Super Weekend. Whitesel talks how the class distinction among the participants at Super Weekend and Convergence was obvious. At the Super Weekend men were encouraged to wear comfortable clothes and the Cabana was a lot cheaper than Hotel Marriott, where the Convergence was held. The clothing manufacturers also bring out their big men clothing lines to the Convergence. The Convergence also offers big gay men an opportunity to feel included in events reminiscent of a prom night or a homecoming dance, because the Convergence has similar types of events. Whitesel talks how these men being able to live these events, even though it happens years after high school, has a significant role in their lives. The Convergence attempts to help big men to assimilate to heteronormative middle class living when the Super Weekend is all about fun and comfort.

Whitesel argues that big gay men are a fun loving group just as any other LGBT group and that they are facing a countless amount of criticism and difficulties only because of their physical size. His research goal was to give voice to big men, and he draws ideas from previous studies on both, fat studies and queer studies field. He uses especially Erving Goffman’s studies of the stigma and how stigmatized people try to find social places that provide comfort. Whitesel own status as a homosexual male helped him to fit in the Girth & Mirth group. He was considered as a chaser and this created some difficult situations as he was getting attention from big men.

Overall, Whitesel tries to give big gay men a voice, since they are often discriminated and silenced in the thin-obsessed gay community. Among gay male categories fat gay men fall all the way to the bottom, this is why many big gay men try to escape the discrimination to bears group. It is important to remember that our society is really size discriminating and even heterosexual big men experience discrimination because of their size. Whitesel does good job describing the injuries that big gay men suffer because of their size and sexuality. Because of their discrimination, big gay men have to come out twice and that is what some of the big men refuse to do. They refuse to join these clubs because the members usually embrace their size and are not shamed of it at all. Sizism and homophobia are problems of our society and big gay men have to face this adversity daily.

 

Works Cited

Whitesel, J. (2014). Fat Gay Men: Girth, Mirth, and the Politics of Stigma. New York, NY: NYU Press.

Mary Edmonia Lewis and Art Historian’s Interpretation of Non-White, Non-Male Artists

In the history of art, white men stand above the rest. In most of human history, institutions were not set up to allow anyone but a white male­­ to succeed in art. The art world is stacked in their favor. In addition, a lack of resources and acknowledgment for women and people of color has led to an art historical timeline filled with white males. Therefore, we still honor the feats of the white male. To progress away from inequity, the field is now turning to look at the work of those less recognized. Yet how can art historians do this without looking at the artist in question as only an ‘other’, a member of a minority group, or an exception? Kirsten Pai Buick’s Child of the Fire attempts to answer the question of revisiting art history’s past by looking at artist Mary Edmonia Lewis. By critiquing the way past historians have viewed Lewis as only either Black, Indian, or female, Buick illuminates the flaws in art history’s assessment of those who are not white males.

The field of art history has a limited scope. There is a lack of research on diverse artists. In the past couple of decades, research has expanded because historians are recognizing artists not originally seen as worthy (a white male). However, the new research tends to reduce the artist to their gender or race. Reduction of an artist extrapolates their art into only their ideological struggle. Kirsten Pai Buick utilizes the story of Mary Edmonia Lewis to examine an understudied artist and consciously works against reducing her to an ideology. Lewis was a late 19th century artist who achieved moderate fame in her lifetime through sculptural work. Buick’s main interest in Lewis is her self-proclaimed identification as a black and Native American woman. Lewis proclaimed herself to be 50% Native American but was actually less than 20%. Combined with her inclusion of African American figures in her work, Buick recognized that Lewis leaned into her ideologies. Buick interprets Lewis’s ownership as her accepting both her own ideologies and the popular titles she was given in the late 1800s as the first great African American and Indian artist. Since Lewis began in the field of art, her ownership of ideologies has affected how she has been assessed as an artist. Buick presents two arguments around how Lewis’s ideologies have affected her. First, Buick explains how she will assess Lewis through her career in order to move discussion away from “ideological baggage” and a focus on Lewis’s life (Buick 2). Evaluating Lewis through her career opens the path for her to be seen as an artist rather than an ideology. Buick continues with her second argument. Using Lewis as a jumping off point, Buick reveals that America still has a “Negro Problem and an Indian Problem and a Women Question” that are all “deeply embedded” in art history (xviii). Buick wields examples of Lewis being seen through racial lenses to explain her two arguments; Lewis had a career, not a life of ideologies, and art history has issues around non-white, non-male artists.

Child of the Fire is the only book that addresses Mary Edmonia Lewis alone and makes an effort to view her in a non-traditional art historical context. Buick is currently an associate art history professor at University of New Mexico. There she continues research in her fields of interest including art of the Americas and representations of the land, African American art, the impact of gender and race in art history, and the history of women as art patrons and collectors. Her motivation to bring themes of intersectionality into art history is still a rare one. Her forthcoming book, White Skins, White Mask: The Performance of Race in British Colonial Portraits moves in a different direction by addressing race head on. A winner of the Driskell Prize, an award to honor contributions to the field of art of the African Diaspora, Buick already has a strong base for her future works.

Buick’s methodology for an exploration of Lewis isn’t a typical one. Since Buick is addressing two arguments; how Lewis has been studied previously and how that relates to art history in total, her main sources are published works from other art historians. While most biographers and art historians focus on primary sources as their forms of evidence to assess an artist, Buick employs other art historian’s works more than sources from the end of the 19th century. Buick acts as a historiographer. She cites works ranging from 1970 to 2000, encapsulating the contemporary viewpoint of Lewis and female artists of color. Using published works that had already considered Lewis by other art historians enables Buick a broader scope. Buick can evaluate art historian’s take on a non-white non-male artist instead of writing a strict biography on Lewis. The use of some primary sources and lots of art historian’s sources around Lewis led Buick to explain the two arguments she posed.

One of the strongest points Buick makes is in regard to how Lewis’s blackness has impeded on her valid assessment as an artist. Buick delves into what she calls the “Negro Problem” of art history (32). She argues an assessment of a black artist is tautological, meaning black artists fall into a pattern of redundancy. One basis of art history is the “maintenance of an uninflected, normalized notion of ‘whiteness’”, a specific white framework that has been engrained into the idea of good art (32). This causes black artists to “affirm and replicate” their difference as ‘blackness’, not as a way to react against this framework, but simply because they do not fit into it (32). Because they are forced in a position of blackness, a black artist is only seen as their identity. The purpose of their art is not important, as the tautological state of a black artist means their work is only their race. Buick brings this back to Lewis when looking at how art historian David C. Driskell interpreted her art. In 1976, Driskell claimed Lewis felt the need to use racial themes because she wanted to show the hatred her father’s race endured. Driskell dismisses the various work Lewis did by putting it under a racial theme umbrella as well as makes up an idea about Lewis’s relationship with her father and race that was never shown in primary evidence. In response Buick states, “It is as if racism were the only experience that shaped her identity and thus the only force that inspired her art” (33). Buick illuminates the tautology of Lewis’s identity makes her art only ‘blackness’. She continues stating that perspectives like Driskell’s make Lewis a “perpetual outsider” to white culture, and therefore good art (33). In opposition to Driskell and the popular stance he stands for, Buick provides a perspective of agency for Lewis. Rather than racial tautology, Lewis’s work sprang from a “negotiated identity” of race, gender, and America itself (35). Her art was more than self-portraiture, but a combination of the various communities she was involved in, and a contribution to the American art scene of her time.

Buick builds on her assessment of the problem of blackness in art history by looking at another artist of the late 19th century, Robert Duncanson. Duncanson, a landscapist, and Lewis are both subject to essentialism in interpretations of their work. Joseph D. Ketner, one of Duncanson’s biographers, claimed that the artist appropriated the landscape to his cultural identity and used it to communicate. In short, Ketner argues the rocks, trees, and other aspects of a Duncanson landscape were the artist’s “metaphors for emancipation and an essential blackness” and a way to communicate art to the African American community (36). There is no evidence that Duncanson intended his landscapes to be interpreted this way. While Duncanson’s work has been reinterpreted by other art historians for what it is, (a landscape), Lewis’s hasn’t. The distinction between the two artists is Lewis provides the black (and Indian) subject in her sculptures, unlike Duncanson, and has therefore always been subject to the essentialism Ketner used against Duncanson. Her work is inherently tautological; the only interpretation art historians present is a racial one. Buick exposes the tautology of race in evaluations of Lewis as an artist, and continues to expand the racial lens to include a Native American one.

An area that could have been explored further in Child of Fire is Lewis’s identity as a woman. Buick also fails to expose how women and women of color’s art has been interpreted in the same way she does for artists of color. A few arguments surrounding gender were made, most specifically with regard to Lewis’s representation of Native American women. Buick notes that Lewis, with her depiction of the story of Hiawatha, attempted to sculpt an ethnographically correct Native American for the first time in recorded art history (132). Up until Lewis, depictions of Indian women had been whitewashed or shown in submissive positions to white males. In the Victorian period, this subtle move broke ground into “who could and could not be considered a woman” in the culture and art (132). However, there Buick ends her discussion on Lewis as a gendered figure. Since the structure of the book was set up with one chapter focused on Lewis as a black subject and two chapters on her as a Native American subject, I suggest that another chapter would have been beneficial. Another chapter could address what it means for Lewis to be assessed as a woman, her time living in Rome with an expat group of gender and sexual fluid women, or her status within racial communities as a woman. A chapter on Lewis’s gender ideology would have answered questions I still have for Buick. Although Buick includes gender focused authors, spending more time in her analysis of Lewis and bringing in feminist art historians such as Linda Nochlin could have balanced intersectionality of Mary Edmonia Lewis.

Child of Fire is at the forefront of progression in art history. For too long the field has been dominated by white males in many ways. There have been few full investigations into artists of different ideologies, and of those assessments most have reduced the artist to a race or gender. Kirsten Pai Buick breaks new ground with her study of Mary Edmonia Lewis. Buick not only evaluates Lewis through her career and not her ideological story, but lays down evidence of the reduction of Lewis’s career by past art historians, and takes on the problems surrounding non-white, non-male artists in art history. This book provides an excellent example for those in the field of what it means to reexamine the artists of history, acknowledge greats of the past, but move forward with artists of different gender and race in a productive way.

 

Bibliography

Buick, Kirsten Pai. Child of the Fire: Mary Edmonia Lewis and the Problem of Art History’s Black and Indian Subject. Duke University Press, 2010.

“Kirsten Buick.” University of New Mexico: Faculty. Accessed October 24, 2016. http://art.unm.edu/kirsten-buick/.

 

 

Queer Theory, Gender Theory

Book Review

Throughout Queer Theory, Gender Theory, Riki Wilchins explores topics such as LGBTQ rights movements, politics of meaning and self, identity politics, feminism, and race. Wilchins analyzes the many complex concepts in such a crafted way, always being careful to never segregate a specific subject. By doing this, she points out that all aspects of gender and queerness intertwine with not only each other, but other social constructions as well. For the entirety of the book, Wilchins encourages readers to step outside of their own identity box momentarily to explore and question what gender truly means, what queerness truly means, and what identity truly means.

Her first few chapters are a very good way for readers to ease into the intricacy of gender and queer theory, but by the end of the book she is challenging readers by asking the big questions. Why has society created such strict binaries, of which we must follow in order to create an identity that others can easily recognize as an identity? Why is it so hard for society to deconstruct these binaries, and is it even possible to do so? How does power work, even within certain rights movement groups, and why does it always tend to create a hierarchy? She uses a range of well-renounced theorists such as Michel Foucault and Judith Butler in order to support her arguments, but she recognizes that the big questions she herself is asking are far too complicated to possibly answer. However, the book was not written to answer the big questions, but rather adventure into and expose the complexity of theory.

Riki Wilchins has written two other books and several essays and articles. Queer Theory, Gender Theory was written in 2004 and is her most recent book. She is a post-operative transgender woman, meaning she has had sex reassignment surgery. This can be offered up as an explanation as to why she first began her career as a leader in the transgender rights movement. In 1995, Wilchins founded GenderPAC, which is the first national transgender advocacy group. Her group, active for 14 years, strived to make public places safe and comfortable for those who did not conform to the traditional roles and attributes of the gender binary. In her writing, she works to examine gender in a post-modernist theoretical light, hoping to bring some of that theory into politics and activism.

Wilchins’ first three chapters are all about rights: women’s rights, gay rights, and transgender rights. Right off the bat, she states, “queer theory is at heart about politics−things like power and identity, language, and difference” (Wilchins 5). Thus, this sets the tone for not only her first chapter on women’s rights, but for the several chapters to follow. She makes references to the black civil rights movements and how it has been a big part of the foundation of the LGBTQ rights movements we see today. “For it is in the black civil rights movement of the 1950s and 1960s that the familiar tools of modern civil rights movements…all come together for the first time” (5). This emphasizes the intersectional lens that Wilchins uses throughout the book to view gender concepts and constructs. She goes on to point out that although at times feminists can seem quite progressive, they often leave out groups of people, thus arguing that even those fighting for equality can get caught up in the power of the all imposing gender binary.

Wilchins then dives into the politics of meaning, which is what she titles chapter 4. She uses the philosopher Jacques Derrida and builds off of his ideology to come to the conclusion that “gender is a language, a system of meanings and symbols, along with the rules, privileges, and punishments pertaining to their use−for power and sexuality…” (35). Wilchins points out that language is flawed in the sense that it can only get us so far. There are certain things we can talk about with language and certain things we simply cannot, for “language favor the Same” (35). So, when people blur the lines of the gender binary, it’s difficult for us to talk about it as a society because language does not allow us that privilege. For example, a trans woman is often not seen as a “real” woman, but rather someone just trying to mimic a woman. Yet, as Wilchins later points out, how do we define a “real” woman? Furthermore, why do these categories of two genders seem to be so exclusive?

This leads Wilchins to dive into Foucault and his theories surrounding power. The authoritarian, end-all-be-all attitude of science often prevents us from obtaining true knowledge. “…the new Science was not interested in knowledge about Sex, but rather power over it” (53.) The discourse that our society has created around gender only allows us to make sense of two certain types of bodies (male and female), which often times makes people who push the binaries of “objects of discourse, not participants in it” (61). Wilchins speaks to repressive and discursive power, and their effects on our perspectives of queerness and what it means to be queer. Which further prompts Wilchins to question our perspectives on sex, something we have often thought of as set in stone and unchangeable. However, intersex people often fall into a very blurry category of sex, one of which our society does not know how to conceptualize, which has in turn led to doctors performing procedures on intersex babies at birth to give them a “real” sex.

Wilchins ties the binaries of race into the binaries of sex. Society has placed significant meaning on what it means to be white and black in this country, just as it has placed significant meaning on what it means to be a man and a woman in this country. “…a central problem for gender theory has been that no matter what telling points are made about gender, Sex lurks right behind, pulling everything right back in the direction of immutable biology” (84). It seems to be that one can just not deconstruct sex. It is an irrefutable Truth. However, Wilchins points out that if this was the case, then we wouldn’t have to teach children what their sex is. If sex were actually an irrefutable Truth, children would just know this about themselves. Wilchins argues that perhaps sex is just another way for society and science to apply cultural meaning to differences that may not be as different as we presume.

The last quarter of the book is quite dense. Wilchins explores post-modernism, its effects on queer theory, and the critiques of it as well. She then explores the deconstruction of race, and how it is much less widely acceptable to deconstruct race than it is to deconstruct gender. Wilchins describes that perhaps race is a “matter of identification created by shared experience and cultural memory” (111). She continues to intertwine race and gender by writing about gendering race and racing gender, stating that the two cannot be separated and by talking about one, you must always talk about the other. Then Wilchins introduces Butler and the problem of identity. The categories of man and women are troubling to both Wilchins and Butler, for “assuming commonality to any identity…can mean assuming a unity that doesn’t exist in reality” (124). So, perhaps Wilchins did answer one of her big questions. Women as a category and identity is something our society has created and bound to us, when in fact, being a woman is far too nuanced to condense into one group.

Throughout Queer Theory, Gender Theory, Wilchins carefully writes about and constructs extremely perplexing and layered topics. The single greatest strength of this book is the way intersectionality continues to come up again and again. It is never neglected, and Wilchins always acknowledges that these concepts must be viewed with several different lenses, in order to fully grasp the complexity of them. The way she writes about race and gender in conversation with each other is necessary for a book like this, but nevertheless still extremely intricately difficult. Wilchins makes sure to never let the reader forget that in order to try and deconstruct gender, one must look at nearly all aspects of our society. She gracefully points out to us that even spaces in which we may think of as un-gendered, actually still are gendered, for it is hard to escape the gender binary society has created. However, as prevalent as intersectionality is throughout this book, at times it was difficult to fully follow. I found myself questioning whom this book was directed towards, and if it was directed towards an audience of which does not identify as LGBTQ, then perhaps it could have been too dense for them. The book is a relatively quick read, however if one has not done previous research on queer theory, then Wilchins’ probably would not be a good introduction to it.

As a Gender & Sexuality Studies major, I very much enjoyed reading this book. It was written concisely and included several real life examples, which sometimes theory fails to do. The book was relatable for me, as I’m sure it was for many others. Wilchins included several philosophers and theorists throughout the book and framed them in a way that was easy to understand and apply to her argument. I believe it would be a great read for others studying queer theory, however as mentioned before, perhaps too dense for someone just introducing themselves to the topic.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Works Cited

Wilchins, Riki Anne. Queer Theory, Gender Theory: An Instant Primer. Los Angeles:

Alyson, 2004. Print.

Interconnectedness of Sex, Brotherhood, and Privilege on Campus: Fraternity Gang Rape

On February 17, 1983, a female student at the University of Pennsylvania reported that she had been carried upstairs during a fraternity party and raped by five or six men, sparking outrage across college campuses. The victim eventually confessed the rape to her professor, Peggy Reeves Sanday, inspiring Sanday to investigate the societal context which normalizes gang rape. Fraternity Gang Rape is the culmination of Sanday’s investigation of sex, brotherhood, and male privilege on college campuses and provides valuable insight into the persistence of dominant masculinity in brotherhood perceptions of rape. Sanday divides her examination of fraternity gang rape into two parts; the first part analyzes the events leading to the gang rape of her former student in order to flesh out themes of male dominance underlying fraternity practices of “working a yes out.” Twenty-six years later, the campus environment described in Fraternity Gang Rape maintains its privileging of white males, promoting reluctance to accuse rapists and shaming victims as asking for it, evidenced by the lenient sentencing of Brock Turner.
Sanday’s anthropological approach to examining fraternity party culture illustrates the attitudes guiding brothers and party goers; young women engage in heavy drinking or drugs, pressured to gain social acceptance, which fraternity brothers interpret as consent to brutal sexual victimization. In order to assemble various perspectives, reflective of the campus environment, Sanday trained students to interview guests and fraternity members at fraternity parties over a two-year period. These interviews were recorded and then transcribed, to reflecting typical conversations about sexual aggression among fraternity brothers. Analyzing this web of interviews, Sanday reconstructs the fraternity environment through the perspectives of victims, fraternity brothers, and party goers, exposing the social prevalence of a rape inducing sexual subculture during a period in which fraternity gang rape was secluded from public discourse.
Sanday meticulously details the gang rape of her former student, revealing the sexual subculture of fraternities which perpetuate male dominance through rape. Using interviews with the victim and two witnesses, familiar with the fraternity, Sanday ascertains that the victim, who she refers to as Laurel, was heavily incapacitated after taking hits of LSD and engaging in heavy drinking the night she was raped. At the end of the party, Laurel was taken to a room upstairs and to crash and was later raped by five or six fraternity members. According to girls who witnessed conversations among brothers, fraternity brothers initially boasted about their sexual conquest of Laurel. When directly confronted by one of the girls, the brothers claimed that rape could not have transpired since Laurel was unable to say no, viewing her state of mind as irrelevant. As a result, Sanday asserts that fraternal discourse perpetuates misogynistic ideology, positioning members to blame Laurel for failing to resist their sexual advances. Analyzing the experiences of girls familiar with the environment of fraternity parties, Sanday illuminates an environment constructed to break down female resistance and ensnare vulnerable women. Reflecting on their experiences at fraternity parties, these women recalled being assaulted with stares and subjected to disparaging remarks under the fraternal practice of “riffing on women.” Unraveling the multiple experiences of being plied with alcohol and drugs and repeatedly pressured for sex, Sanday deciphers the practice of “riffing on women” as a mechanism employed to sexually abuse women and celebrate the power of the brotherhood (p. 46).
Arguably, Sanday provides her most powerful insight into fraternity life through her analysis of a “highlights sheet,” a humorous version of meeting minutes written by fraternity brothers. The sheet serves as an uncensored account of the gang rape, as told by the brothers, reflecting their true attitudes regarding sexual abuse of women. Sanday deconstructs the euphemisms employed by the brothers, who bragged about the success of a new “little sisters program,” referring to the raping young, vulnerable women, and expressed optimism in recruiting “little wenches,” or future victims, providing insight into sexist fraternal discourse (p. 66). Exploring the fraternal ideology is crucial to understanding how fraternities normalize gang rape as a valid form of sexual expression. Sanday exposes the misogynistic fraternal discourse underlying the “good Samaritan rift,” mentioned in the highlights sheet, in which brothers praised one another for having sex with a victim drifting in and out of consciousness (p. 67). Evaluating the minutes, Sanday asserts that gang rape is perpetuated through public displays of masculinity and fraternal bonds, seen in the brotherly pride associated with various forms of “riffing.” Carefully examining direct quotations from the perpetrators, Sanday frames sexual aggression as prioritizing fraternal sexual prowess over displaying compassion for a vulnerable peer.
Describing three cases of fraternity gang rape reported at various universities, Sanday uncovers the same values of misogyny and male privilege underlying the 1983 UPenn gang rape. Drawing from student interviews of fraternity brothers, as well as personal revelations from fraternity brothers, Sanday expands upon the persistence of dominant masculinity through phallo-centric ideology across fraternity circles. Centered exclusively around channeling sexual aggression, fraternity parties allow brothers to search for victims and emerge at the top of the social power structure, united in brotherhood. Women who drink are seen as flirtatious and “asking for it” in the eyes of fraternity brothers, and victims are shamed for making a mistake. Sanday asserts that these experiences, similar to the gang rape of Laurel, are an extension of male privilege, allowing fraternity brothers to seek empowerment through inebriating and then sexually victimizing women, later denigrating these women for allowing themselves to be alone with a group of drunk men.
In the second part of her book, Sanday implicates the fraternal environment in constructing a sexual subculture which normalizes sexual coercion. One of the most shocking fraternity practices Sanday outlines is the marking of drunk women with colored dots to signal their sexual availability to other brothers. Practices such as these help fraternity members to “work a yes out”, by targeting the most vulnerable party goers to coerce into sex. Instead of retreating after their sexual advances are denied, fraternity brothers feel encouraged to push copious amounts of drugs and alcohol onto women until they obtain a yes. However, as Sanday reveals, a yes to the brothers doesn’t mean verbal consent; instead fraternity members push until the victim is drifting out of consciousness or nearly comatose and cannot say no. Strategizing together, fraternity brothers aid one another in their sexual endeavors, using excuse sexual aggression under the privilege of the brotherhood.
Referencing student interviews with fraternity brothers, Sanday uncovers phallocentric ideology undergirding party gang rape, privileging the brothers to take advantage of compromised women. In these interviews, fraternity brothers admitted to working a yes out of hesitant women, organizing parties “get ‘em drunk and go for it” (p. 115). Illuminating inside fraternal discourse, Sanday uncovers the prevailing ideology which blames women for what happens after they are drunk. In response to the UPenn gang rape many brothers blamed the victim, asserting “that girl just totally brought everything onto herself” (p. 119). One perpetrator mocked the situation, remarking “she was responsible for her condition and that just leaves her wide open…so to speak” prompting laughter among the brothers (p. 119). Examining these direct statements from fraternity brothers demonstrates the explicit callousness of members towards the suffering of victims. Verbal coercion, Sanday asserts, provides an escape only if victims have the physical and mental strength to do so, ultimately placing the responsibility of rape onto the victim.
Sanday also illuminates egregious initiation rituals, such as those requiring pledges to lie to lie in feces and vomit, demonstrating the construction of abusive social order. Using various tapes of initiation rituals and incidents reported by brothers, Sanday highlights the aims of pledging a fraternity to destroying any aspects of vulnerability and emotional accessibility, which normalizes the subjugation of women. Throughout initiation rituals, pledges are ridiculed for their femininity, whilst constructing the fraternity as a source to alleviate anxiety over insufficient masculinity. As a result, a template for masculine identity is forged through granting pledges the ability to abuse party women under the shared power of the brotherhood. This “radical alteration of consciousness” constructs a callous attitude towards women, normalizing sexual behavior and discourse that subject women (p.192).
Fraternity Gang Rape was a landmark publication, serving as one of the first comprehensive accounts of the abusive sexual behaviors encouraged by fraternity parties. Sanday’s graphic portrayal of aggressive sexual attitudes and practices of fraternity members gained widespread public attention; illuminating fraternal ideology centered around the sexual exploitation of women. As a result, the unprecedented nature of her analysis left Sanday with little discourse to engage with. However, Sanday mentions vigorous debate over the roots of sexual violence, analyzing cross-cultural studies in order to invalidate the argument that gang rape can be excused as the manifestation of the “explosive, biological nature of male sexual expression” (p. 61). Referencing anthropological investigations of matrifocal and patriarchal societies which argue against the existence of a single gender template, Sanday positions the social influences of fraternity gang rape within a global context, demonstrating the silencing practices of sexist fraternity practices, which largely subject female college students to unwanted sexual interactions. Sanday’s monograph is powerful, exposing the grotesque, secluded behaviors of fraternities which construct gang rape as normal behavior, providing a framework upon which universities can construct effective policy. However, Sanday undercuts the significance of her work by ignoring race in her accounts of fraternity gang rape. Taking the accounts of minority women and fraternity brothers would lend to a more expansive construction of male privilege and help universities to better work against fraternity gang rape culture.

Sanday, Peggy Reeves. Fraternity Gang Rape: Sex, Brotherhood, and Privilege on Campus. New York: New York University Press, 1990. Print.

Fraternity Gang Rape: Sex, Brotherhood, and Privilege on Campus

Power dynamics based on gendered interactions can be seen widely in Western societies in particular. The most prominent negative repercussions of these dynamics can be seen as instances of rape and sexual assault. Similar gendered interactions and discourses can be seen as heavily embedded into initiation and bonding rituals and fraternity culture at large. These rituals have been sometimes seen to rely on rape, sexual assault, and sexual discourse in general. In her book, Fraternity Gang Rape, Peggy Reeves Sanday chooses to focus on all male group bonding rituals at a college campus in the United States, particularly the bonding ritual of “pulling train,” or, gang rape. Peggy Reeves Sanday is a professor of Anthropology at the University of Pennsylvania. She has authored a number of books, focuses primarily on matriarchies and acquaintance rapes occurring in societies. She was a professor at the University of Pennsylvania at the time that the specific gang rape addressed in Part One of this book occurred and was teaching the victim.

Sanday constructs an argument that focuses on exploring how groups of men bond through the use of sex. This is further developed as not only being constructed through actions but also through discourse amongst the group. Her argument is crafted around these group acts existing to allow for homoerotic and sexual experiences to be shared between the men involved. This is particularly explored due to the heavily homophobic mentalities usually seen in these environments. Finally, Sanday focuses on how sex can be seen as a marker of power societally and the constructs that exist which uphold these dynamics.

Fraternity Gang Rape begins with a delving into a discussion of, societally, how the differences between men and women have been seen. This is primarily done through the lens of looking at the three sexual revolutions and models that have been used to understand gender power dynamics. While discussing the various sex models, Sanday constructs a picture of the act of rape as societally upheld by the sexist subjectivity that people have been raised within. Sanday also explores some of the problematic structures that exist within college, mainly fraternity, party culture. Namely these are seen as the seduction tactics used by males, which include feeding girls drinks until they are drunk enough to give in. The ability to do this successfully is often used as a marker of one’s masculinity and reinforces the gender hierarchy that exists within these party interactions.

Sanday constructs her study in two parts. The first part is specifically tailored towards what she calls “The XYZ Express,” which focuses on trends discovered following a specific incident that happened at a fraternity on the University of Pennsylvania’s campus in 1983. This part contains a lot of information that primarily applies to the the fraternity “XYZ” and various incidents recounted primarily by women. This goes through interviews with both members of the fraternity and a number of women who have unique relationships, either sexual, friendly, or both, with members of XYZ. Their interviews highlight social bargaining for a better position within the group’s hierarchy, primarily through having sex with members, an ability to hold your own while drinking with the brothers, or both, which is heavily encouraged by party culture. Sanday also depicts structures within XYZ that reinforce these dynamics, primarily what the brothers refer to as the “Little Sisters Program” as well as aggressive circle dances, which end with a mass heap of all of the brothers, sometimes on top of a woman. The concept of this program is that the brothers of XYZ essentially scout out females to be sexually available for members within their organization. The major rape that spurned Sanday’s writing of this book was the gang rape of one of her students, referred to as Laurel, whose rape was referred to as an audition for this program by brothers. Sanday uses this discourse and the actions of gang rapes and circle dances to discuss the manners in which these actions allow for brothers to bond homoerotically within a heavily homophobic and hegemonic masculine environment.

The second part of her study is heavily focused on phallocentrism, male power, and silencing the feminine. This part focuses on discourses and interactions that are seen in groups, primarily in male centric groups. This focuses heavily on rituals utilized to break young men out of “the feminine”, or their dependencies on their mothers seen prior to adulthood, with a heavy emphasis on the ways in which this is done through fraternity initiation rituals. Sanday discusses in particular detail the exact ways in which the fraternities psychologically mess with their pledges in order to shift their mindset from a loyalty to oneself to a loyalty to the fraternity. This is done not only to promote male social and sexual dominance, but also to construct widely felt male bonding throughout the new members. This is opened up to how initiation rituals in non-Western cultures either create rape free societies or uphold gender power dynamics similar to the ones seen in fraternities. Sanday raps up this part by focusing on how sexist subjectivity is created through discourses and how difficult these structures are to deconstruct as they are so embedded into our language and interactions.

The book ends with an afterword, written in 2006, discussing how much has actually changed since this book was first published. Sanday explores the various ways that hookup culture and these sorts of incidents are perpetuated not only by fraternity culture. An interesting discussion can be seen about the roles that sororities play in upholding the hookup and rape culture that is perpetuated by most fraternities.

Ultimately, Sanday argues that while these issues are discussed much more heavily than they used to be, the statistics haven’t really changed at all. This is primarily due to the persistence of privileged positions of all male organizations of cisgendered, heterosexual white males in society. While this is not 100 percent true about fraternities,  they are predominantly filled with white, cisgendered males. Sanday does comment on the prevalence of discourse regarding sexual assault and rape that is happening in what she dubs the “New Sexual Revolution,” with a particular focus on the affirmative consent policies that are becoming widespread in colleges and universities. She concludes that protecting those more vulnerable and deconstructing these power dynamics that uphold and allow for rape and sexual assault to occur commonly is the most important move we can make societally.

This book gives an interesting overview into a very serious occurrence seen in many all male university organizations. A particularly interesting perspective can be seen when looking at rape and sexual assaults through an anthropological sense instead of sociological. The discourses and interactions are vital to understanding more about why these events occur at the rates they do, whether through groups or by individuals. Furthermore, Sanday does a good job at comparing these discourses and structures across Western and non-Western cultures. However, a further delving into other experiences with in Western fraternity culture would be beneficial. Also, while Sanday provides commentary that this is applicable to groups of men that are not fraternities, more evidence and discussion of these alternative groups would be helpful to support her argument. Furthermore, the generalizability to other fraternities at the University of Pennsylvania or on other campuses is slightly problematic. Through this part, Sanday offers a limited gaze into a few other situations, providing token examples, but a wider spread study that expressed experiences truly representative of the diversity of colleges seen in the United States would provide a more appropriate generalizability.  The manner of splitting the book into two distinct parts makes the main argument hard to connect or follow at some points. Sanday also fails to discuss that all of these interactions she is exploring have occurred in aggressively heteronormative environments. While she briefly highlights homophobic discourse, the addition of this could be beneficial to helping strengthen her argument. This is presented as central to her argument, but discussion of it is lacking in comparison to her other points. I would recommend this book as a good eye opener to someone looking to delve into how fraternity culture upholds and reinforces gender power dynamics and privilege in a heteronormative, white centric perspective.

Sanday PR. Fraternity Gang Rape: Sex, Brotherhood, and Privilege on Campus. 2nd ed. New York: New York University Press; 2007.

Women’s Progress and the Future of Marriage: Review of Generation Unbound

American social norms surrounding marriage and family structures have undeniably exploded since the 1950s golden age of Ozzie and Harriet-style unions. Over the past five or six decades, the United States has experienced a rapid decline in marriage and an enormous rise in births to unmarried mothers, especially among poorer, less educated Americans. Family sociologists agree that, in general, childbirth outside of marriage objectively increases poverty levels and inequality for children. In her 2014 work Generation Unbound: Drifting into Sex and Parenthood without Marriage,” Isabel Sawhill explores the causes and consequences of these striking changes in the United States’ marriage culture. She presents the reader with several explanations for the societal developments, including economic changes due to deindustrialization and globalization and a general liberalization of norms surrounding sex and marriage. However, unlike her colleagues in the field of family sociology, Sawhill identifies changes in women’s role in society as the overwhelmingly most powerful catalyst in the decline in marriage and increased childbirth to unwed mothers. In turn, Sawhill’s solution to the consequences presented by these developments is also ultimately a feminist one, as she argues that men must accept women’s changing roles and agree to function in a more androgynous union with a non-gendered divison of labor.

Throughout the expository introductory chapters of the book, Sawhill joins the existing dialogue of her contemporaries, including Charles Murray, Bradford Wilcox, and Robert Putnam, to establish a fact agreed upon by all family policy analysts and family sociologists: marriage is objectively the most successful union for stable parenthood, but marriage as an institution is rapidly declining in the lower socio-economic classes in the United States. What the U.S. has developed, in turn, is a cycle of poverty that fosters unstable family structures and unstable family structures that foster poverty. Sawhill’s main impetus to research the topic lies in the welfare of children. Her main argument is that marriage has seen such a rapid decline in recent decades because of the relative social progress women have made and the subsequent change in women’s opportunities and gendered expectations. Sawhill sees these developments as undeniably positive ones; however, progress for women has led to unintended consequences for children, as children have no autonomy over what type of family structure into which they are born, but must suffer any consequences assiociated with an unstable family. Sawhill’s argument develops into a suggested remedy for the future, in which she proposes that the government subsidize long acting reversible contraceptives (LARCs) to drive down the fertility of women drifting into motherhood with little active intention to do so.

Isabel Sawhill works at the Brookings Institution as a senior fellow in Economic Studies. She serves as the co-director of the Center on Children and Families, as well as the president of the board of the National Campaign to Prevent Teen and Unplanned Pregnancy. In recent years, she has focused especially on economically disadvantaged children in the United States, though throughout her life her research has examined various economic and social topics. She has extensively researched unplanned pregnancy, the economic consequences unplanned children face, and how the United States can best prevent unintended pregnancy.

Isabel Sawhill lays out her argument with extensive discussion and analysis of empirical, quantitative evidence representing the trends in marriage in twenty-first century America. Along with her contemporaries in the field of family sociology, Sawhill uses statistical evidence to determine that children fare best when they grow up in a household headed by their married parents. Despite marriages’ positive outcomes for children, though, Sawhill tells the reader that “marriage is on the wane,” going so far as to claim that marriage is an “endangered institution” (Sawhill 17-18). The bulk of her research is thus to explain why marriage rates have fallen so drastically; her findings bring her to the conclusion that “the changing status of women is the most important driver of changes in the family” (Sawhill 28). From the advent of the birth control pill, to increased numbers of women in college and the labor force, women have far more opportunities now than they did the so-called golden age of marriage, making them less inclined to marry, especially at a young age.

Sawhill also engages with her contemporary interlocutors by highlighting the growing class divide in family structures between the well-educated upper class and the less-educated lower classes. While women in the less educated, lower socio-economic classes have increasingly forgone marriage, while having children outside of marriage more and more often. However, women of higher socio-economic status are entering into so-called neotraditional marriages, which resemble 1950s-style unions, but are predicated on much greater egalitarianism between the husband and wife. Sawhill suggests several remedies to the negative consequences for children produced from what Sawhill considers unstable family structures. She argues that the U.S. government should subsidize long-acting reversible contraceptives (LARCs) to push down the fertility rates among the lower socio-economic classes in which fertility is high but marriage rates are low. She also supports increases in traditional government welfare programs to provide monetary and medical assistance to those in need.

The greatest strength of Isabel Sawhill’s work, I argue, is her introduction of a new explanation for the divergences in family structures in the United States during the past few decades. Her thesis, arguing that changes in women’s status in American society have been the greatest catalyst for breaking down the traditional family structure of the twentieth century, is an argument relatively untouched by Sawhill’s contemporaries. While family sociologists and policy makers have engaged in debate over the cause of changes in family structures, Sawhill presents a perspective unique from her colleagues by making her argument centered around the cultural shifts that occurred due to feminist movements. This argument strong and logical; the advent of accessible and relatively affordable contraception, the legalization on abortion through Roe v. Wade, no fault divorce, women’s increased presence in higher education institutions and improved status in the work force, etc. have all undeniably shifted marriage norms and structures (Sawhill26-30). She explains the bifurcation between upper and lower economic class families through the lens of gendered norms as well; well-educated, wealthy women are delaying marriage and childbearing while they gain education and profession status, but “at the other end of the economic spectrum, families are falling apart” (37). Sawhill explains this development as a result of lower-income men refusing to approach partnerships and marriage with an egalitarian view of gender.

Arguably Sawhill’s biggest weakness in her text is her explicit call to drive down the fertility rates of the less educated, lower income rungs of American society. Though she provides copious evidence that the instability present in many lower income families harms innocent children, her suggested remedies evoke the disturbing history of eugenics and birth control. Though Planned Parenthood provides undeniable benefits in 2016, and although Margret Sanger is often portrayed as a champion of women’s rights and social progress, we must remember the initial intentions of Planned Parenthood and birth control in general. While Sawhill herself may advocate purely on behalf of blameless children, her call for government-subsidized fertility control of less educated, poorer women threatens the agency of women on the sole basis of their economic status, as well as treading frighteningly close to outright eugenics. While children do unfairly suffer due to their parents decisions, we must always respect the agency and value of people regardless of their education attainment or economic status.

Overall, Isabel Sawhill provides an interesting and important commentary on the developments of marriage norms in the United States, with her predictions for the future and suggested remedies for the negative consequences associated with these changing social norms. The book exists in a field presumably off the radar of the average person, even among the more educated ranks. However, family structures and practices affect the future generation of thinkers, leaders, and influencers of our economy and society, and evidence shows us that the environment in which they are coming of age has a much greater affect on them than we may realize. Because Sawhill’s topic of analysis includes such a broad range of people—that is, all of American society—everyone could benefit from reading her text. I would openly recommend this text, but would explicitly suggest any reader to examine closely her remedies for the future and approach the work with a critical eye.

Sawhill, Isabel V. Generation Unbound: Drifting into Sex and Parenthood without Marriage. Washington, D.C.: Brookings Institution, 2014. Print.

High School Monograph: A Review of Pascoe’s Dude You’re a Fag

 

High school, while being a time in a adolescents life where the most growth, physically, emotionally, and psychologically, is looked on by many to be a stressful and miserable period full of bullying, angst, and feelings of inadequacy. Why do so many people hate high school? While it is a tendency of the 21st century to assert that we, as citizens of the United States, have made progress regarding how we accept people of different races, ideologies, and sexual identities, the normal high school environment proves otherwise. The four years adolescents spend in high school form the cornerstone in which they build their beliefs and how they come to interact with the world as adults. C.J. Pascoe’s academic monograph Dude You’re a Fag: Masculinity and Sexuality in High School is a case study of a high school in Northern California. In her work, Pascoe interviews numerous students and faculty and observes the daily workings of the institution for over a year. What she finds is an environment where adolescents ages 14 to 18 are bred to join the heteronormative, patriarchal society that we are all too familiar with.

Pascoe asserts that commonly held notions of gender, masculinity, and sexuality are solidified during the years in high school. During these formative years, Pascoe argues, important social events are central to the development of sexual and gender identity. Formal occasions such as prom, Friday night dances, and homecoming solidify heteronormativity by encouraging teenagers to pair up, girl and boy, and interact romantically in a social setting. Also examined by Pascoe is how the male students interact in ways that are misogynistic and homophobic. She uses the example of the “fag” epithet to show that teenage boys are forced to prove their masculinity and sexual orientation to their peers in order to gain their respect. If a boy is seen as effeminate or weak, they are more likely to be regarded as a “fag”, which is associated with not being “man” enough. One student that Pascoe interviewed said of being called this insult, “To call someone gay or a fag is like the lowest thing you can call someone. Because that’s like saying you’re nothing” (55). This student is pointing to a central idea in Pascoe’s book and a glaring problem of homophobia that is still present today. Being labeled as “gay” when you identity as a straight, cis-gender male delegitimizes the careful presentation of masculinity that many try to portray to the world. Pascoe also discusses how race plays a factor in determining masculinity. She found that black teenagers were automatically placed on a higher level of masculinity as their white counterparts, and because of this they were more likely to be seen as stronger, more aggressive and sexually domineering. The distinction between the types of masculinity led to more black boys being disciplined by the administration and their teachers. The intersectionality between race and masculinity is a vital part of Pascoe’s thesis and is also very relevant to today’s political and social climate, where the demonizing of black bodies is all too common. Pascoe’s monograph leads us to the starting point of the many issues we all face and grapple with in today’s world.

The author and researcher behind this monograph is C.J. Pascoe, a professor of Sociology at the University of Oregon. Pascoe graduated with a degree in sociology from Brandeis University and received her Ph.D. in sociology from the University of California, Berkeley. Her research focuses on the masculinity and femininity, youth, and sexuality studies. Her monograph Dude You’re a Fag won the American Educational Research Association’s 2007 Book of the Year Award. Pascoe’s knowledge expands beyond masculinity and into the realms of anorexia and its prevalence in society today and how social media and technology is changing how teenagers communicate and grow up. The expertise Pascoe brings to this subject is a deep understanding of adolescents and the developmental milestones they hit during high school. The knowledge gathered by the researcher from many years in academia and the practical world qualify her to write such a book.

Pascoe’s monograph is considered a case study of a singular high school that she uses to draw conclusions about educational institutions and their effect on students throughout the United States. Over an eighteen-month period, Pascoe interviewed numerous students, faculty, and administrators while also observing classes and conversations among students. Pascoe also attended common high school events where socializing takes places such as sports games, dances, and school sanctioned assemblies. Both by quoting directly and drawing conclusions based on conversations, Pascoe comes to find that at a working class, diverse high school gender norms and heteronormativity are deeply ingrained into the students. She observes school authorized events, such as the high school’s homecoming assembly before the dance, in which male students dress up and dance scandalously (in ways that would be considered unacceptable for girls to do) and attempt to win votes and be crowned the king. Other occurrences analyzed by Pascoe are the school plays, the only occasion where it is acceptable for boys to dance, wear makeup, and act flamboyantly in public, and the meeting of the Gay Straight Alliance club (GSA), a place where the margins of the school come together for support. What her observations found is not surprising. There are a very small number of students that participated in the GSA and sponsored activities, while many students either acted in or attended the school plays. The thin line between when it is acceptable to embody traditionally feminine characteristics and when it is considered taboo is shown through these events. Pascoe’s discovery of how deeply the notions of masculinity and femininity are pushed, even through our education system, asks if any progress has been made.

The paramount strength of Pascoe’s work is how she takes into account and analyzes the importance of intersectionality when looking at masculinity. By bringing race into conversation, Pascoe solidifies her argument even further. As noted earlier, the black students at River High were almost excluded from the “fag” discourse so commonly heard. Protected by what Pascoe calls “hip-hop culture” it is socially acceptable for the black students to pay attention and care to their appearance and dance in public without fear of being referred to as a fag. Pascoe pinpoints this phenomena as an underlying racist attitude that, because black men are seen as meaner, sexually aggressive, and domineering, they are hypermasculinized. Another succinct intersection is that of masculinity and queer identity in America’s high schools. One student at River High, Ricky, an openly gay student, is discussed about in length as an example of how queer students are treated in high school. Ricky describes his experience as violent and unpredictable at the hands of the male students attempting to assert their masculinity. If Pascoe were to leave out these very important intersections of masculinity, her book would not have had the weight and argument that it has.

The way Pascoe chooses to draw conclusions based on the observed actions of the students can be problematic at times. While Pascoe has and listens to numerous conversations with and among boys about their various sexual conquests with girls, she rarely receives female viewpoints. She instead analyzes the interactions of the students, which sometimes border on sexual harassment, and reports on them. In many of these scenarios, Pascoe reports that the girls are most often willingly submissive to the physical dominance of the males without giving a reason why from the girls’ perspectives. The lack of primary information the readers get calls into question Pascoe’s diligence in her research.

This particular monograph examines a subject that is relatable to anyone who graduated from an American high school. Though this may not have been the experience for everyone, River High is a portrait of the American, public, educational institution that casts its influence over the rest of society. Its explicit and easy to read format makes it accessible to readers that are not academics, while its well-researched and deep arguments make it attractive to those who are. I think that this book is analyzed deeply and has an argumentative and interesting take on an experience that is so common to so many people, even today.

 

Works Cited

“CJ Pascoe.” Department of Sociology. University of Oregon, 2016. Web. 24 Oct. 2016.

Pascoe, CJ. Dude You’re a Fag: Sexuality and Masculinity in High School. Berkeley: U of California, 2007. Print.

Pledged: Teagan Monaco

Governed Through Choice

In Jennifer M. Denbow’s book, Governed through Choice: Autonomy, Technology, and the Politics of Reproduction, she tackles the issue of reproductive choice and its paradoxical relationship with women’s autonomy and governmental interventions, specifically in the current day in the United States. She illuminates the contradiction between how women’s autonomy is defended by politicians and the steps that they take that serve to limit this autonomy, criticising this course of action and arguing against it. She explains that women in the United States are facing more and more severe scrutiny and restrictions on their reproductive rights and choices, citing the r
ecord breaking number of laws passed in recent years to restrict abortions.

Denbow splits her book into three main arguments that uncover some of these contradictions in the political discourse that surrounds choice and autonomy. The first is that autonomy in the realm of reproductive regulation is often understood as being “proper self-governance or self-management,” and how this perspective allows for the judgement of women’s reproductive choices and is used as justification for intervention when these choices are deemed improper or irrational. The “proper” choice is the one seen as more moral or appropriate given the woman’s situation, an idea and perspective that becomes overbearing and dominant. An example of this is the idea of a woman on welfare choosing to have another child or a woman with a good income choosing not to have any children andthe judgement that these women would face for this decision, as it would be seen as the irrational or less moral choice. There is also the added legal perspective in which the “proper choice” is pushed by law, such as women facing restrictions when trying to get an abortion. For instance, the Texas sonogram law requires women to undergo a sonogram at least twenty-four hours prior to having an abortion. This law, which proponents of argued increased women’s autonomy by allowing them to make a more informed choice, actually takes away autonomy by implying that the “proper choice” is not having an abortion and that going through with it is less moral or somehow deviant. This creates a situation in which, despite the pronounced respect for “choice”, only certain “choices” are considered “correct”. The second argument is that developments in reproductive technology, such as sterilization, sonograms, and better contraceptives, have changed how reproduction is perceived, and thus how it is governed. While these developments seem to increase women’s ability to manage their reproduction and therefore increase their ability to self-govern, these changes also increase the scrutiny of their decisions because there are now perceptions of choices that are “better” or “more rational”. In the third argument, Denbow explains that there are multiple understandings of autonomy. She outlines two main understandings of autonomy. There is the traditional understanding of autonomy critiqued by Denbow in the first argument that explains proper self-governance and autonomy to be synonymous. Lawmakers and politicians rhetorically elide the differences between self-governance and autonomy, which Denbow opposes. Instead, she seems to prefer the alternate understanding of autonomy in terms of being “critique and transformation,” based on the philosophies of Michel Foucault and Judith Butler. This view of autonomy “promote[s] resistance to discriminatory and oppressive norms,” and challenges existing understandings of the female body (p. 5). It emphasizes the impact of choice and the interaction between the power to select and government.

To contextualize her writing, it is important to note Denbow’s background. Denbow is an Assistant Professor of Political Science at California Polytechnic State University, San Luis Obispo. She specializes in public law, political theory, reproductive law and politics, feminist studies, and science and technology studies. She received her law degree from the University of California, Berkeley, where she also earned her Ph.D. studying jurisprudence and social policy, emphasizing women, gender, and sexuality.

Her background in law and political science is evident in her writing. While she does not detail her methods in a specific section, Denbow’s methods entail very statistically and politically centered arguments, relying heavily on both personal and legal case studies. She brings this topic of reproductive choice and control out of the domain of health studies and women’s studies and into the lens of political science, citing many statistics to bolster her arguments. In her opening paragraph, she contextualizes her argument by stating: “In 2011, states enacted a an unprecedented 92 provisions restricting abortions, which overwhelmingly surpassed the previous record of 34 in 2005” (Denbow, p. 1). She goes on to explain that state politicians appeal to women’s autonomy as a way to justify these restrictive measures, but yet are actually serving to control women’s reproduction. A specific example of this is the extensive ultrasound mandates that have been passed in a multitude of states, such as Texas’s Woman’s Right to Know Act. These laws increase scrutiny of women and of their bodies while under the guise of providing them with more information about abortion and enabling a more complete form of consent. Lawmakers promote these laws as a way of informing women and providing them with autonomy, while in actually are simply restricting their rights and interfere with decision making.

Another way Denbow approaches her argument and bolsters her explanation of autonomy is by invoking philosophers and theorists like Kant, Foucault, and Rousseau. She frequently frames her ideas with the concepts of others, especially for her discussion of autonomy. Denbow explains that many people, by holding onto a traditional understanding of what autonomy is, apply a sort of circuitous logic to reproductive rights. There is a historical understanding that autonomy is “proper self-governance,” and thus is reflective of one’s ability to make rational decisions (Denbow, p. 2). There is a perception of a better way to conduct oneself and in order to be seen as autonomous and to be capable of autonomy, one must conduct themselves in this manner. This then translates to judgments of women’s choices, such as a woman choosing to have children if she is on welfare being deemed as irrational. Other examples Denbow gives include choosing to have an abortion and choosing to be sterilized, especially if you are a young, middle-class woman, which are choices that are frequently seen as being foolish or rash. Denbow critiques the logic that “intervention in a woman’s decision making can actually promote autonomy,” as people who follow this logic see themselves as preventing a woman from making an “irrational” decision (Denbow, p. 3). She points out that the laws passed to “promote autonomy” with added interventions, such as the aforementioned sonogram laws, actually reduce autonomy. Denbow’s preferred idea of autonomy as critique and transformation was founded on the philosophies of Foucault and Butler, whereas the historical view of autonomy as proper self-governance stems from Rousseau and Kant. Denbow argues that Rousseau’s and Kant’s interpretations of autonomy were foundational to Western beliefs and politics. She summarizes both of their definitions of autonomy to be “adherence to self-given law,” and explains that this idea is essential to modern Western political thinking (p. 19). Kant interpreted autonomy as “analytically separating oneself from one’s desires and impulses in order to legislate rationally for oneself,” and thus focused more on the moral aspects of autonomy, which has been incorporated into the political realm in that only those who are deemed rational have both the capacity and right to autonomy (p. 2). Denbow points out that from a historical perspective, certain groups of people (i.e. women, slaves, people of color, etc.) were not granted full rights as they were seen to lack the ability to govern themselves. In contrast, Foucault and Butler approach autonomy from a poststructuralist perspective, arguing that “construction of the subject rather than undermining any possibility for agency, actually serves as the condition of possibility for it” (p. 19). The mere possibility that there are multiple courses of action we could take creates the conditions for power, but this power presumes a free subject. This provides the basis for Denbow’s argument that government’s role in reproductive law works with the ideas of surveillance and autonomy. Denbow also expands her examination of Foucault to include his idea of governmentality, applying it to how the option to abort (among other choices women must make in regards to reproduction) provides the possibility for governance and restrictions, and that this thus changes how women’s actions are scrutinized. In fact, Foucault provides the title for her book, writing that we “can be governed through choice,” (p. 4). Because of the mere presence of an option, it opens the opportunity for one choice to be seen as more valid than another depending on the situation, and thus leads to a “moral evaluation” of women, playing into Denbow’s idea of autonomy as critique and transformation.

In addition to the historical perspective Denbow provided for Kant’s and Rousseau’s understanding of autonomy, she also provides fairly extensive historical context to better understand the current political situation on reproductive choice. She particularly focuses on the history of sterilization and abortion and how these concepts and the opinions surrounding them have changed over time. Denbow points out that “historically and continuing into the present, women who are deemed unfit [for motherhood] are in danger of involuntary sterilization while those who are deemed fit face barriers to accessing sterilization,” applying Foucault’s idea of moral evaluation and the scrutiny of choice (p. 22). In both the instances of voluntary and involuntary sterilizations, experts are regulating women’s choices as there is a perception that these women cannot govern themselves. While this idea of a “superior choice” is most often applied to women who choose to get abortions, Denbow explains that women who voluntarily undergo sterilizations face this critique as well. In both the cases of informed consent laws for abortions and for sterilization, Denbow argues that these laws “increase surveillance, violate liberty, and treat women as less-than in denying them the ability to make decisions for themselves,” (p. 185). Women are not seen as having the autonomy to make this decision themselves, particularly when the decision involves her rejecting motherhood. This idea ties into her bigger idea that technology acts as a destabilizing force in the realm of reproduction, particularly this act of voluntary sterilization in that it disrupts the connection between womanhood and motherhood. Women are seen as being “irrational” for choosing to undergo voluntary sterilization, and thus their autonomy is reduced as they are not seen as making the proper choice. Denbow incorporates Donna Haraway’s ideas to argue that a sterilized body might be interpreted as a “cyborg figure in which organism and machine are united and intertwined,” partially due to the relatively recentness of voluntary sterilizations (p. 22). While this seems to be a bit of a stretch, as a woman’s body remains as a living, non-mechanical vessel despite being sterilized, there is value in illuminating this inherent connection between womanhood and motherhood and how sterilization and other reproductive technologies disrupt this idea of woman as intrinsically maternal. The cyborg figure calls into question the “natural” and points to “alternative understandings of humanity, technology, nature, reproduction, and gender,” (p. 189). It challenges the assumptions we make about women’s bodies and their relation to the world. Alternately, some reproductive technologies, such as in-vitro fertilization and other technologies that Denbow refers to as “for natural reproduction”, actually serve to reinforce the female body as maternal as the non-reproductive female body is seen as deviant and dysfunctional.  These technologies, specifically IVF, may be scientifically unnatural ways of reproducing, but they still reinforce the centrality of woman as mother as they enable women to give birth and “fix” the “dysfunction” of not being able to bear children, and therefore work to sustain this association. Additionally, the reliability of birth control has changed how we perceive pregnancy in many ways. Pregnancy is now seen as much more of a choice and something that is intentional, which impacts the perception of women who are pregnant and the course of action they take from there.  Procreation is now seen as a voluntary act, a change in which technology has played a major role and now serves to create an idea of “responsible procreation”. Because procreation is now a choice, it is open to scrutiny.

Another method Denbow uses is referring to case studies to further her arguments. She uses a personal perspective to explain how sterilization is perceived in our modern society, giving the example of her friend who was voluntarily sterilized. This friend was seen as someone extremely fit for motherhood – a young, white, attorney – and thus her choice to not bear children and eliminate the possibility of ever bearing children troubled many people as it disrupted the assumption that all women are meant to be mothers, particularly those who are deemed “fit”. Denbow describes people’s confusion and astonishment at her choice, and their assertions that she would regret it. This friend also struggled to receive approval from doctors to undergo this procedure. However, Denbow also illuminates that women who are seen as “less fit”, such as minority women, particularly those who are incarcerated, do not face these same restrictions as their sterilization is not deemed irrational. In fact, these women are often involuntarily sterilized, something Denbow talked about somewhat briefly and could have expanded upon more. She does touch upon the intersectionality of race, class, and gender, and the impacts that that has upon these perceptions of women, and particularly how this affects minority women’s ability to be perceived as fit to be a mother.

In addition to these personal case studies, she also demonstrates her legal background with her use and analysis of a legal archive of case studies to bolster her arguments and explain the history of reproductive choice and how it is being governed now. For instance, she investigates the 2007 U.S. Supreme Court case Gonzales v. Carhart, in which the congressional Partial Birth Abortion Ban Act was upheld. She explains that politicians argued that this ban protected women, but in reality fit with her framework of autonomy as proper self-governance as it encourages women to make the “proper choice” to not have a late term abortion without actually advancing women’s autonomy and freedom to choose. The law depicts women as victims, where abortion is seen “merely as a necessary escape hatch,” rather than a valid choice (p. 20). She uses a variety of different court cases and analysis of laws to provide background and further the development of this connection between governmentality and autonomy.

This book, while it has many strengths, is lacking in some areas. Denbow makes an attempt to make her work more diverse and representative, even going so far as to critique other authors, such as Lee Edelman’s work on reproductive futurism, for their under-exploration of issues such as race and class. While Denbow does discuss the added complexity that these factors impact reproductive norms, it could have been more in depth. She discusses these factors more in the extremes, targeting incarcerated women of color and poor women specifically. Her work would have benefitted from discussing more minority women and the reproductive expectations they face, focusing not just on incarcerated black women but also the average woman of color and people of other ethnicities, and the intersectionality of the factors of race and class. There is also little discussion of queer women and how their identity as queer impacts these issues. She tends to touch upon these issues without truly going in depth. In addition, by not detailing her methods, it is difficult to precisely determine how she garners her information. While one can extrapolate from her work what her primary methods entail, details such as whether she analyzed legal case studies herself or worked off of someone else’s analysis are left unclear.

Denbow is able to articulate how paradoxical the current situation regarding reproductive choice in the United States is in terms of governmentality and autonomy, detailing how politicians purport to increase women’s autonomy while in actuality add more restrictive measures. Her three-pronged argument was able to paint a complete picture of this struggle for autonomy and the ways in which it has been restricted, and how technology has impacted this. Her use of other philosophers and a wide variety of sources provides a diverse perspective as well as historical background to better contextualize her arguments. This book was certainly illuminating and informative on many aspects of reproductive choice that are not often considered. A particularly interesting concept was Donna Haraway’s “cyborg theory” as it this idea of sterilized women as “other” and somewhat mechanical was not something I had previously considered. I believe that everyone could gain new insights and perspectives from this book, but that it would be particularly illuminating for politicians to read, specifically those lobbying for more restrictions on women’s reproductive choice. Though it may not alter their opinions, there is a chance that being able to better understand how their fight for women’s “autonomy” is actually serving as restrictive. Understanding how the notion of autonomy is being manipulated may help people to understand how these laws depict as incapable of governing themselves and restrict their ability to choose.

Flirting with Danger

Every day, every single interaction, whether conscious or unconscious, shapes our identity and perception of the world. From the time we wake up in the morning until the time we go to bed at night, we are taking in information, processing it, and shifting our awareness of society based on the viewpoints we perceive. This impact of interactions and social cues has evolved over time into the hegemonic countercultures in different places around the globe. In her book Flirting with Danger, Lynn N. Phillips explores the ideology of power and choice within hetero-relationships formed by Western Culture through an in-depth analysis of the personal stories from young women.

Lynn N. Phillips coined the phrase “flirting with danger” in order to summarize women’s approach toward hetero-relations as established by previous interactions and media influence. In common situations of hetero-relations, the boundaries between “seduction and domination, pleasure and danger, responsibility and exploitation, agency and objectification, and consent and coercion” often become variable and murky (Phillips 3). However, women interpret this risky behavior as a “part of the ‘normal’ experience of their daily hetero-relational lives” (Phillips 3).  Through her research and analysis of women’s personal reflections of their relational experiences, Phillips successfully explores how women’s view of hetero-relations has evolved into the “need to flirt with danger” (Phillips 206).

Lynn N. Phillips draws on previous literature from feminist theorists in order to analyze her qualitative data. In doing so, she successfully creates a framework to guide our understanding of how society has shaped the subjectivity of power, choice, and desire within hetero-relations. In writing this book, Phillips aims to stimulate discourse regarding aspects of hetero-relations that are often excluded from feminist and social science literature. She specifically highlights the absence of conversation promoting “male accountability” and “female pleasure without penalties” (Phillips 77). While women do have the same sexual desires as men, “structural, ideological, and interpersonal barriers” created by Western Culture often prevent women from expressing these desires (Phillips 77).  Further, she hopes to gain a greater understanding of how women’s judgments, specifically regarding the meanings of male domination and sexualized power in their lives, have been shaped by personal experiences and outside influences. These subjectivities, formed from popular media and past hetero-relational experiences, are exemplified through four common themes of discourse: (1) “how to be a ‘good woman’,” (2) “what constitutes ‘normal’ male behavior,” (3) “what counts as ‘real victimization’,” and (4) “what should be expected from men and hetero-relationships” (Phillips 38, 52, 61, 69).  Through her comprehensive investigation of power and desire from personal narratives about hetero-sexual relations, Phillips successfully sets up a foundation for institutional change and further research surrounding “how issues of power and aggression might filter through same-sex relations” (Phillips 205).

Lynn M. Phillips consults with organizations on issues of sexuality, education, and victimization. As a Professor of Psychology and Gender Studies at Eugene Lang College of the New School University, she has experience in teaching and working with young adults. She has also written several other books on the topic of gender, sexuality, and relationships. For example, she was commissioned by the National Council for Research on Women to write The Girls Report: What We Know and Need to Know About Growing Up Female, and she is the author of Planned Parenthood’s Unequal Partners: Exploring Power and Consent in Adult-Teen Relationships. Her research in the field of gender and sexuality studies has sparked further inquiry surrounding the formation of the beliefs and messages guiding hetero-relations.

Phillips wrote Flirting with Danger in order to investigate her three central research questions: (1) How do “young women conceptualize the distinctions between good relationships and bad ones, between consent and coercion, and between agency and victimization?”, (2) How do “young women make sense of the violence and manipulation that all too often invade their hetero-relationships?”, (3)  What do young women “tolerate,…resist,…or perceive as ‘normal’ or ‘inevitable’ in their own and other women’s hetero-relational encounters?” (Phillips 5). In addition to using previous literature from feminist theorists such as bell hooks, Butler, Bartky, Collins, and more, Phillips conducted her own research study by interviewing young women from a small, progressive liberal arts college in the northeastern United States (Phillips 6). She placed letters in the campus mailboxes of all female students, inviting them to be interviewed about “power and intimacy in various relationships” (Phillips 6). She had in-depth conversations with the thirty young women who responded regarding their own personal experiences within hetero-relations as well as the hetero-relations of those around them.  Surprisingly, of the thirty young women that responded, twenty-seven of them “described at least one encounter that fit legal definitions of rape, battering, or harassment” but “only two women ever used such terms to describe a personal experience” (Phillips 7). Though Phillips does not discuss the official legal reporting of rape, battering, or harassment, this fact demonstrates the challenges of under-reporting. Many women are aware of what constitutes sexual assault and abuse, but refuse to consider themselves a victim when placed in the exact context. When in this situation of victimization, women have a “tendency to downplay the severity of their experience and blame themselves for their own abuse” (Phillips 157).  However, Phillips uses this fact alone as well as the contexts in which these young women’s hetero-relational subjectivities were constructed to understand young women’s personal perceptions, decisions, and attributions within hetero-relations. By placing these perspectives within cultural contexts, Phillips is able to identify common themes which contributed to their formation.

Through exploring prevailing themes within popular discourse relating to hetero-relations, Phillips creates a structure for the contexts, formulation, and application of “flirting with danger.” She specifically outlines four dominant themes of discourse with two conflicting discourses within each. For example, one dominant theme throughout her discussions was “how to be a ‘good woman’,” which broke down into “the pleasing woman discourse” and “the together woman discourse” (Phillips 38-39, 47).  The “pleasing woman” encompasses “the desire and ability to be pleasant, feminine, and subordinate to men,” stressing “morality, sexual ‘purity,’ and service to men and children” (Phillips 39). The “together woman” is “free, sexually sophisticated, and entitled to accept nothing less than full equality and satisfaction in her sexual encounters and romantic relationships” (Phillips 47). As exemplified though “how to be a ‘good woman’ discourse,” the two discourses within each dominant theme are viewed as mutually exclusive, thus creating the need to “flirt with danger” in order to obtain a “normal” hetero-relational experience (Phillips 38). As Phillips discusses, however, these two discourses should be seen as a spectrum rather than mutually exclusive, as hetero-relations will vary within each discourse based on the situation. Through exploring, establishing, and breaking down the social constructions of these dominant discourses, Phillips hopes to stimulate discussion surrounding the promotion of young women as sexual subjects who can find pleasure and safety within their hetero-relations with the final goal being a society without a “need to flirt with danger” (Phillips 206).

Within feminist literature, Phillips specifically draws from bell hooks’s Feminist Theory from Margin to Center in order to build off of previous theories regarding sexuality. In a passage referenced by Phillips, bell hooks describes “naming and criticizing the negative aspects of sexuality” as a “simple task for women” (Phillips 190). Further, bell hooks discusses difficulty of changing the norms of sexuality for women due to cultural constraints. Though Phillips agrees with the difficult task of creating new sexual ideals, especially in the present culture, she argues that naming is not such as simple a task as bell hooks portrays. Referencing the stories of the young women she interviewed, Phillips argues that women have difficulty making “straightforward claims about their own victimization” (Phillips 190). Women were able to speak against male sexual aggression in general, but unable to identify male sexual domination as victimizing within their own experiences. Similar to the views of bell hooks, Phillips contributes the inability to identify personal experiences as victimizing and the failure to establish new sexual paradigms to the cultural constraints of society today. By analyzing and critiquing the work of bell hooks in the context of her research, Phillips contributes to the conversation regarding feminist literature, enabling further research in this field.

One of the strengths of Phillips’s book is that it is relatable to a wider audience, concerning race, socio-economic status, and religion, as she draws on stories from all of the women in order to form her analysis. She uses specific examples of situations women found themselves in or brought upon themselves through poor decisions or risky behavior as evidence for all of her claims, further aiding her argument. This detailed investigation, however, is limited only to heterosexual relations; though some of these women identify as bisexual or questioning, she limits her research to only their hetero-relational experiences, excluding all other relations since she believes that “all women regardless of sexual orientation or sexual identity, are engaged in hetero-relations of some sort” (Phillips XI). Phillips did not take into account that these women’s same-sex relations could have made an impact on the formation of their ideas surrounding hetero-relations.  Therefore, in order to expand upon her study, Phillips suggests researchers should “explore how issues of power and aggression might filter through same-sex relationships as well,” building off of her framework and findings (Phillips 205).

Overall, in her book Flirting with Danger, Lynn M. Phillips successfully analyzes the hetero-relational experiences of thirty young women in order to create a structure for the formation of the beliefs behind their actions. Other feminist theorists as well as young women and men should read Phillips’s book in order to stimulate discourse and change the culture constructing these views and beliefs surrounding power, desire, and choice within hetero-relations.

 

Works Cited

Phillips, Lynn M. Flirting with Danger: Young Women’s Reflections on Sexuality and

Domination. New York: New York University Press, 2000. Print.

The Separation Solution: Single-Sex Education and the Politics of Gender Equality

9780520288966Separate but equal. These three infamous words, coined by Plessy v. Ferguson in 1896, heightened the ever-present racial divide between black and white individuals until struck down in 1954 by Brown V. Board of Education. Just sixty-two years later, after working to rid this axiom from our norm, we have three new words to examine: different but equal. This time, the focus shifts to the sex divide between men and women.  Juliet A. Williams, author of The Separation Solution: Single Sex Education and The New Politics of Gender Equality, assesses the ideas behind single-sex public schools and how these ideas are constructed, especially in terms of sexist and racist stereotypes and economic inequality.

Williams considers single-sex education in public schools and examines how advocates and critics frame their cases and analyze how “gender differences have been defined and positioned within these competing frames” (Williams 28).  She argues to focus on the different beliefs about gender that parlay discourse about racial and economic injustice in education so that a more “constructive trajectory” can be set for future dialogue.  With the integration of women into the previously male-dominated schoolrooms in the 19th century, sociological and biological arguments surfaced, such that this combination would place strain on female reproduction. However, the cost of keeping up with this as well as the dominance of one room houses eliminated the concept of separatism in education until it reemerged following Brown v. Board of Education. As much of society still posed racist sentiments, the thought of white girls and black boys being taught in the same room spurred single-sex education until this argument proved ineffective as Civil Rights activists brought notice to the changing sex discrimination laws. However, at the turn of the 1980’s, the “Black Male Crisis” emerged when advocates claimed black male students were often marginalized in coeducation because they were placed in environments run by female teachers, and often came from single-mother families so they had no male role model and viewed education as “feminine” as a result.  These arguments discriminated against women and so the discourse shifted in the mid-1990’s to single-sex schools for females as “an effective means to build girls’ self-esteem and encourage greater female participation in the traditionally male dominated fields” and break down the existing heteronormativity (Williams 30). The discussion continued to grow for single-sex schools as advocates claimed that boys’ and girls’ brains are “hard-wired” to learn differently and therefore require separate learning situations, but these dubious arguments championing biological determinism were later shut down along with the majority of single-sex public schools.

Juliet A. Williams received her Ph.D. from Cornell University in New York, and is additionally trained as a political theorist.  Currently, she serves as a professor of Gender Studies and as the Associate Dean of the Division of Social Sciences at the University of California in Los Angeles.  Williams’s research focuses on feminist theory, masculinity studies, gender and the law, gender and education, and cultural studies.  She has additionally written Liberalism and the Limits of Power and contributed to Public Affairs: Politics in the Age of Sex Scandals.

Williams notably frames her arguments through cross-disciplines: history, sociology, and biology. A series of court cases, specifically Plessy v. Ferguson, Garret v. Board of Education, United States v. Virginia, are used to set the historical context and establish precedents for building arguments for and against same-sex public schools. Moreover, relevant acts and laws, such the Title IX of the Civil Rights Act, the Equal Education Opportunity Act and the Women’s Educational Equity Act served to exhibit the political history and legal studies behind same-sex education and the decisions behind those in office.  By developing the terms gender, education, race, ethnicity and examining how men and women learn and react to learning styles differently exudes a sociological and biological argument respectively. Moreover, Williams did not not conduct any studies herself, but furthered the discussion based on court cases, research studies, and news and media studies in local areas. She specifically emphasizes the pre-existing arguments of Kimberlé Crenshaw, Rosemary Salome and Leonard Sax. Crenshaw, who coined the term intersectionality, continually examines how women of color can be marginalized by feminist and antiracist agendas especially in single-sex education. Salome builds an argument against the “conflation” of gender into racial discussions that halted the worthwhile single-sex public school initiatives and urges for dissenters of single-sex education to “move beyond ideology”, while failing to address the origins and effects of “conflation” and recognize many dissenters opposed the discussion from analysis based off past programs (Williams 100). Sax argues for same-sex public schools, with the basis of his argument being they will curb the reinforcement of traditional gender roles, believing these stereotypes will persist in coeducational environments because they will mimic society’s structure. This way, students can be successful with techniques geared toward their specific gender. Beyond Crenshaw, Salome and Sax, William’s referenced the work of numerous other scholars to build her argument.

Williams effectively examines the role of intersectionality in the discussion about single-sex education and builds upon Kimberlé Crenshaw’s research on the topic.  She quotes Crenshaw, who asserts that “the failure of feminism to interrogate race means that the resistance strategies of feminism will often replicate and reinforce the subordination of people of color, and the failure of antiracism to interrogate patriarchy means that antiracism will frequently reproduce the subordination of women” (Williams 77). Williams continually frames the discourse on single-sex public education in terms of interesectionality to thoroughly illustrate one of main controversies over over black single-sex institutions—black girls. This concept introduced how they are specifically marginalized more so than their peers by single-sex specifically black institutions.  More so, arguing through an intersectional lens underscores the complexity and ignorance of using a “single-axis” approach to advocate for women because in doing so, the shortcomings black students face are ignored. This incorporation of intersectionality additionally highlights the “strategic leveraging of difference to fracture potential coalitions” and expands this debate beyond the gender discussion (Williams 79). Williams examines not just the way intersectionality is used to characterize identities, but also how it is used to characterize the politics on the issue as well.

Although William’s evaluates the role of separate public schools for boys and girls, she does not thoroughly examine those who do not fit under this rigidly classified system.  Queer students are overlooked and only mentioned in a couple pages at the conclusion as way of afterthought.  The discussion needs to be expanded to fit the ever-changing definitions of gender and sexuality. It is a significant gap in the argument to overlook the specifics of whether a student who identifies as one gender but bears a different sex is forced to conform to the male-female binary, and how this argument can be used for future discussion on single-sex public education.

Ultimately, The Separation Solution reads extremely informative as it provides well-framed, fact based arguments for and against the formation of single-sex public schools. Government officials and school board officials as well as anyone in the field of education should read this book because it poses relevant information on what it means to separate gender in learning environments, and how other factors have to be considered in this separation. Moreover, Williams makes note how putting the spotlight on marginalized categories may seek to provide fair learning environments but in fact generates social divides that created disadvantages and advantages for specific groups in the first place. So we are finally left to consider whether gender-specific problems really garner gender-specific solutions.

 

Work Cited:

Williams, Juliet. The Separation Solution?: Single-sex Education and the New Politics of Gender Equality. N.p.: U of California, n.d. Print.

Despite A Century Of Women’s Rights, Hillary Clinton Still Faces Outrageous Sexism

The Huffington Post creates a timeline in this article of the progress women have made in society throughout the past hundred years.  The first notable event described begins 100 years ago when Margaret Sanger “opened the nation’s first birth control clinic in Brooklyn” in 1916 and the most recent event described is the Treasury Department announcing “Harriet Tubman’s portrait will be featured on the new $20 bill”.  The Huffington post ultimately notes how even though women’s rights have progressed, Hillary Clinton “still faces outrageous sexism by the media” and sexist criticism won’t halt even if she’s inaugurated. The Huffington Post ultimately describes women’s progress as linear, but I don’t believe the narrative is necessarily as progressive as they make it seem. I am reminded of Faludi’s “Blame It on Feminism” because it continually states how women receive much backlash despite gaining rights.  Dr. Jean Baker Miller stated how “a backlash may be an indication that women really have had an effect”—so hopefully we are getting closer, but progress still needs to be made.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/peter-dreier/despite-a-century-of-wome_b_11970308.html

The Gender Binary in Relation to Dance

The music video Sergei Polunin in “Take Me to Church” by Hozier is able to reveal assumptions commonly held in dance around gender.

The camera work is steady. The video starts with a shot of the ceiling and then descends down to Sergei Polunin. For most of the video the camera is a short ways away, however, it’s focus is on him intermittently adding to the intensity of emotion in certain moments. For some shots the camera is close up and filming from almost beneath Sergei Polunin, this interesting style adds a dimension into how he is presented.

The white wooden church like structure Sergei Polunin is dancing in is expansive. The space is simple, there is a loft in a small portion of the second story but beyond that the space is open. The walls are incomplete, the frames showing, and the windows appear to be large holes in the walls. The floor is solid stone tiles of a light gray color, slightly dirty. The light beaming in is bright and glows in white fog that is rolling over the floor.

Sergei Polunin is dressed plainly in tight skin tone shorts and dirtied ballet shoes. He is wearing less than is generally worn for classical ballet. Additionally he is showing a multitude of tattoos. The tattoos are bold and dark on his stomach and sides. Sergei Polunin also has tattoos on his arms, wrist, hand, foot and chest. His hair is dark strait and growing out to be a little shaggy.

The song Sergei Polunin is dancing to, “Take Me to Church” by Hozier, has deep emotionality and is a great coupling with Sergei Polunin’s style of dance. Within the song there is variation of intensity that compliments the burst of action in the choreography.  

There is a dichotomy between his fully controlled spins and the moments where Sergei Polunin holds his head, his body seeming to break down. Sergei Polunin demonstrates an opposition and union of movement, one example of this is his ability to collapse all the way to the floor with grace. His movements are decisive and even as he is incorporating modern dance into ballet there is still form and structure to his movements. The motion of Sergei Polunin starts slow, tensioned and then unfurls into ballet spins and flashier choreography. Always returning back to ballet dance he is able to add emotionally charged moments that are almost theatrical in nature. There is an emotionality in his moves, particularly when there is a softer moment in the music.

In ballet there are many contrasts between classic female form and classic male form. The way Sergei Polunin holds his head is loose. He begins the piece with his hands on his hair bending his head down. His head is lifted but not tensioned. The way his head moves adds to the burst of motion he has and the emotionality. This contrasts greatly with the way female ballet dancers hold their heads which are generally very poised and tilted slightly up at the chin. The feminine head position is held with grace and firm ease.

The hands are important in ballet. In feminine form they are held softy with the second finger extended out just slightly. They remain smooth, slow changing and delicate. However in male classical ballet the hands are interrupted from delicacy often by lifting a women or focusing on quick burst of muscularity. Sergei Polunin has some form to his fingers during specific ballet moves but he also has flat hands for catching himself on the ground and curled finger pushing through his hair. He also at one point makes a fists with his hands which is something not often done by classically trained female ballerinas.  

The way Sergei Polunin expands his limbs through the space is mostly in quick fast points of movement where he is expanding and contracting often. There is a focus on concentrated muscular feats. He has a looseness of his limbs as certain points. Feminine classical ballet is different, the movements are generally supposed to be slow deliberate extensions that show off flexibility and endurance. The motion through space is graceful and full of very structured form.

Sergei Polunin’s movements come in explosive bursts, the focus on agility and strength. The motions are an embodiment of masculinity, protruding, angular and quick. This assertive action can easily tie into gender stereotypes in general and the conception that our contemporary society still holds about gender. In the gender binary men are noted for strength, assertive attitudes and loud demeanors. Differing from this, women are noted for grace, delicacy and consideration. Women have been expected to uphold this smooth action and water-like nature. Considering the role society has placed on women it is no surprise that femininity in dance is associated with smooth graceful movements. There is an emphasis on posture, detail, fluidity and rounding of the body.

Sergei Polunin’s movements, to “Take Me to Church” by Hozier, uncovers some of the gender bias and associations that are so deeply ingrained in our society, that are reflected in the form, movement and posture of dance.

#LikeALLGirls

Media Analysis: #LikeAGirl

If you watched the 2015 Super Bowl, it’s likely that you saw Always’ poignant advertisement endorsing a more nuanced definition for the colloquialism, “like a girl”. A teenage girl named Erin opens the advertisement with her interpretation of what it means to run like a girl, followed by a number of other similarly aged girls and a few boys. She takes her perfectly manicured hands and places them at her sides, with the palm outstretched perpendicularly to her legs. Like a clumsy doll, she proceeds to prance around the room, indicating that girls are unable to run in an athletic, masculine fashion. Immediately after, a set of young girls around the age of 8 introduce themselves and show their interpretation of what it means to run “like a girl”. Young and uncorrupted, these girls appear unfazed by the fact that “like a girl” functions as an insult in society, and they proceed to run “as fast as [they] can” (Always, 2015). Athletic, confident, and powerful, these young girls embody society’s future women, illustrating the uplifting possibility that today’s females may equate themselves to their male counterparts in adulthood if we continue to encourage their strength.

While this advertisement attempts to reclaim and resignify the colloquial phrase “like a girl” to imply strength and power instead of weakness, rocking the traditional gender binary that represses female power, its efforts are futile. Unfortunately, the language and images the campaign promotes alienates a multitude of women who don’t identify with the heteronormative actresses on screen while also encouraging the categorization of society into two neat boxes marked male and female. According to Always, what it means to be “like a girl” is no longer weak, but instead feminine, dress-wearing, and cis-gendered, as Erin and her counterparts flash whitened teeth and flip their freshly curled locks (Always 2015), which is limited at best. Since the 1990s, feminist and queer interventions, two by Anne Fausto-Sterling, have helped us to understand how the very categorical descriptors of “girl” and “boy” subject human-beings as a species to a rigid binary that demoralizes instead of empowers. Furthermore, Foucault’s The History of Sexuality provides insight into how the employment of language, which is productive in nature, results in the subjectification and confinement of humanity to the gender binary that oppresses us (1997). Thus, as Always proposes a newfound strength in girl-dom, one that praises traditional female gender norms such as dresses, makeup, and hair bows instead of condemning them, it fails to empower and speak for women who transcend these norms. In this way, Always helps the gender dichotomy strengthen its grasp on society, for it excludes the all people who don’t conform to one extreme or the other (girl or boy).

Language is both an expanding and restrictive tool, which can reflect and reproduce a narrow understanding of the world around us instead of a thorough one. Anne Fausto-Sterling speaks to this power in her piece, Sexing the Body, which investigates the origination of a commonly accepted philosophy that biological sex determines gender (2000). As Sterling (2000) postulates, the medicalization of the human body in the 20th century resulted in the categorization of the species into two subtypes based on physical genitalia, when, in fact, many intersex beings with combined sexual organs transcend this rigid dichotomy. Always, instead of exposing gender’s abstract nature, encourages the binary by distinguishing “females” from their polar opposite: males. When the producer asks how a cis-gendered, female teen feels when someone says she throws “like a girl”, the actress responds by characterizing women as “strong” even though the colloquialism portrays femininity as “weak” (Always, 2014). However, in doing so, she undermines the commercial’s attempt to rock the gender binary by enforcing a distinction between men and women to begin with. She doesn’t say that people are strong, but that women are strong. In doing so, her language alone separates her kind of woman, a dress-wearing, makeup-using, cis-gendered female from the infinite other genders that truly exist.

While language in and of itself restricts our understanding of gender, a complex topic, to a limited, binary perspective, the manner in which it is employed further reduces our insight. Not only does this Always ad encourage the usage of dichotomous phrases such as “girl”, “boy”, “strong”, and “weak”, but it also subconsciously endorses a singular kind of normative woman. In a later clip, a girl wearing an effeminate blue dress and bright red lipstick states that “[she] walks like a girl and wakes up like a girl because [she is] a girl, and that is not something to be ashamed of” (Always, 2014). Through the voice of the blue-dress-actress, Always fights for unity amongst women but instead alienates the myriad of girls (the asexual, transgendered, masculine, etc.) who don’t walk and talk like the heteronormative actress. In campaigning for pride amongst normative females like Erin and her friend in the blue dress, Always actually oppresses the non-normative women that choose to transcend the gender/sexuality binary, for no genderless women were featured amongst the actresses representing the types of girls society is not “ashamed of” (Always, 2015). This line raises the controversial question of whether or not girls who break the heteronormative mold in fact do have something to be ashamed of, for they don’t dress or express themselves exactly as the Always spokes-girls do. Similar to the way in which the Victorian’s obsession with talking about and medicalizing of sex resulted in the production of sex, men, and women as subjects, this commercial engenders a subcategory of women within the female realm: the ideal woman (Foucault, 1979). Everyone else simply does not fit the mold and is treated as such.

While Always attempts to reclaim the colloquialism “like a girl” and reshape it to express a woman’s power and equality to her male counterparts, the company solely fights on behalf of the heteronormative female population, resulting in a very limited pursuit of girl power that subjectifies many non-binary women through the dissemination and internalization of the #likagirl campaign. When asked once more how to run “like a girl”, an African American actress with straightened hair, winged eyeliner, and highwaisted jeans explains she will “run like herself”, implying that she, a cisgender, heteronormative female, represents all girls (Always, 2015). Clearly this poses a problem for Always’ mission, for it suggests that an acceptable woman is one who conforms absurd beauty standards to satiate the male gaze that has an ever-present hold on female lives. As Always encourages females to pursue heteronormative behaviors, girls and women across the nation will internalize these values (the dresses, makeup, and curled hair) and succumb to a Foucault-dian productive power that prevents them from rising up against the rigid gender symbols forced upon them by our patriarchal society (Foucault, 1997). This sort of “productivity” is more oppressive than it is beneficial. Instead of proposing the explosion of the binary altogether and the reassessment of what it really means to be a girl—whether you are heterosexual or genderless—#likeagirl subconsciously suggests that only heterosexual, cisgender women should explore their inner power within the boundaries of the beauty/behavioral standards that our unyielding society is already accustomed to. How can humankind expect to move past the binary if it only recognizes one kind of woman—the type that wears form-fitting dresses to hug their breasts and show off their traditionally feminine sex characteristics?

Language has evolved since the dawn of time into an essential aspect of human relations necessary to converse, empathize, and understand one another. However, in the search for understanding we have limited ourselves by constructing rigid definitions for each word in our lexicon. Terms such as “boy” and “girl” meant to simplify and explain society subject it to a binary perspective with little wiggle room to explore the possibilities of a more abstract gender sphere. While Always pursued a female-empowering, binary-exploding campaign with its #likeagirl commercial, the language spoken throughout the advertisement (weak/strong, self-conscious/confident, boy/girl) not only encourages black and white binaries,  but also pits women against each other, as heteronormative, dress-wearing females are equated with “winning” while genderqueer women are not represented (Always, 2015) . While #likagirl successfully empowers heterosexual, cisgender females to embrace confidence and self-assurance through the use of heteronormative actresses wearing excessive makeup and traditional female sex symbols such as dresses and bright pink colors, it fails to empower all women. To take this campaign to the next level and fight for equality amongst all females and males, genderqueer women need a voice alongside their heteronormative counterparts. Redefining #likagirl as a more fluid, concept including feminine and masculine women alike will open the doors to exploding the gender binary and, ultimately, achieving a genderless society where #likaperson frames public discourse.

https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=1&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=0ahUKEwiL-v_G2ZrPAhVm2oMKHS8hADwQyCkIIDAA&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DXjJQBjWYDTs&usg=AFQjCNHXZLObKbGPG0DNeC8iHIsvRknCEw

Works Cited

Fausto-Sterling, A. (2000a). Sexing the Body: Gender Politics and the Construction of Sexuality (Revised ed. edition). New York, NY: Basic Books.

Fausto-Sterling, A. (2000b). The Five Sexes, Revisited. The Sciences, 40(4), 18–23. http://doi.org/10.1002/j.2326-1951.2000.tb03504.x

Foucault, M. (2012). The History of Sexuality: An Introduction. Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group.

 

 

Contemporary Media Analysis: Selling Sex or Scent?

In today’s globalized market, fragrance companies have turned to what will travel best. In the face of intense competition gripping the senses of consumers, campaigns must go farther than simply market the fragrance itself. They must sell another yet more desirable product: sex. And it’s selling. The global fragrance industry now holds a $36 billion market share, with Gucci, Dolce & Gabbana, and Hugo Boss at the lead. One must ask, are these companies selling sex or scent?

Brand and product (range) typically serve as the only verbal components of fragrance ads and play a prominent role in the marketing strategy. Fragrance names and other verbal components are often connected with mood rather than with the description of some factual property or properties (Freitas 3). Thus, their associative meaning is largely dependent both on brand image and advertising strategy that forms a sort of symbolic synesthesia that connects visual, auditory, and olfactory images: the graphic forms of the inscribed name, the sound of the spoken name, and the fragrance. It is thus not surprising that names and images evoking glamor, eroticism, exoticism, and sexuality are recurrent. Also unsurprisingly, in their quest for eroticized marketing, fragrance producers make more than a few flagrant and presumptive statements about gender through the use of models and pictorial cues. These sensuous, pictorial cues divide women and men into four strictly heterosexual categories: the femme fatale, the Don Juan, the ‘natural man’, and the ‘natural woman’ (Voogt 5).

gucci-00052The femme fatale is presented as a seductive and mysterious woman whose charm ensnares her heterosexual lovers. Consider Gucci’s ENVY. Gucci’s femme fatale here looks on lustfully as a man sucks her finger. The consumer should envy her because she has obtained this man through her sexuality. She is in control. Yet the most notable detail of this advert is that the viewer relates this message only through the experience of the man. He is intoxicated. He is overcome with her allure. It is as if the woman can only display her power through the presence of the man, making a provocative statement regarding her sexuality and individuality (A Scent of Corruption 3). Though ENVY’s femme fatale rejects any posture of submission but rather empowered through her own means, this empowerment stems only from her sexualization and she holds the upper hand only in lust and love (Freitas 5).

croppeddvbfragranceThe femme fatale finds her cultural counterpoint in the Don Juan of the industries’ hyper-sexualized advertising. He is presented as a hunter, rather a trapper. Yet he makes only a small investment in each prey, shooting a smile as an arrow (Freitas 4). This is perfectly visualized in Beckham’s intimately BECKHAM NIGHT. Beckham is pictured here as a man that associates with high society, holding the female model in his submission, yet lacking an explicitly sexual position, intimating independence and emotionally detachment. He is strong and empowered with his arm locked around her neck which seems to give her a sort of intoxicated pleasure, which once again sells women’s sexuality short as it highlights her need for a man to desire her and the ease at which she submits to him.

daisy-marc-jacobs-fragrance-adThe second dominant construct in fragrance advertisement is that of the ‘natural woman’ and the ‘natural man.’ The ‘natural woman’ is portrayed as a flower-child or sportswoman, one that casts aside the artificiality of corporatism and society and uses light, fresh fragrances. She is featured in Marc Jacob’s DAISY, where the dark evening gown and club setting of the femme fatale are exchanged for lighter colors and outdoor flower fields with breezes and sunlight that envelop her (Freitas 7)The ‘natural woman’ finds her male equivalent in, of course, the ‘natural man.’ The ‘natural man’ will not be found in a bed of flowers. In Dolce & Gabanna SPORT, all feminine items are done away with. The young fragile girl is replaced by a chiseled male model, simply wearing a pair of shorts and displaying his impressive, muscular torso. The ‘natural man’ poses against the ancient stone of a Hellenistic stadium that compliments his skin tone and visually immerses his body in rock through strategic composition and color manipulation. Like the ‘natural woman,’ the evening light of the Don Juan is replaced with a bright noon sun. The ‘natural woman’ then is one who is young and innocent, in perfect harmony with nature, and who claims no power over man with the retraction of explicit sexuality.

original_theonesportThe dichotomy for women is clear: either power through sex or innocence through nature. Femininity and masculinity exist in very rigid structures, where both genders are hyper-sexualized and lack fluidity. Women are emotional beings who desire the allure of men. Men are detached and fulfil the ‘tall, dark, and handsome’ cliché, with little room left for other else. Artists take constructs solidified by mass marketing and present them as a heterosexual paradigm of womanhood and manhood. These adverts elevate enticement, sex, and lust, rather than knowledge or health as desirable. They present paradigms to a highly impressionable, materialistic post-modern America, who seek to use their scents to meek this market’s one-dimensional definition of desirable.

A Scent of Corruption. 18 November 2007. https://lgergen.wordpress.com

Freitas, Elsa. “Gendered adverts: an analysis of female and male images in contemporary perfume ads.” Comunicação e Sociedade, vol. 21, 2012, pp. 95 – 107.  May 2011.

Voogt, Peter. Boys will be Boys. Gerrit Rietveld Academie. 2014.