When asked to think of a photograph which represents us in some way, I was flooded with images - of me, taken by me, some which might not seem to include me at all. But the one I landed on is iconic among our family photos: myself, aged around 5 years old, suspended at the waist by a huge tire swing, completely naked.
I believe we were in Baltimore at a gathering for family I'm very distantly related to. The kids had been playing in one of those shallow, plastic pools and I suppose I had tired myself out. I stripped off my bathing suit in the middle of the yard, surrounded by people who, for the most part, I hardly knew. The next logical step, obviously, was to climb into a tire swing and sway slowly for awhile.
I didn't know I was being photographed, but it now sits in one of my favorite volumes of our family's collection.
The idea that I had no concept of shame over my body, that I acted so instinctively on what I wanted, and that what I wanted was such a simple pleasure... I just like to look at that picture from time to time and know that those things are in me, still a part of me.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Monday, January 19, 2009
Writing Assignment: #1
Over the past few years, I have become increasingly interested in examining my Catholic upbringing, my ultimate rejection of the religion and the way it has, and still does, affect me. My interest often falls into the realm of obsession and much of my artwork addresses various facets of it.
This is why, when we began generating issues relating to gender and identity in class, I offered the topic of religion to the list. I would say that all of my exploration, and fascination, with the subject matter has to do with gender and identity. Having the Virgin Mary as a role model, the oppression of women rampant in the Bible, extreme guilt and anxiety relating to almost anything bodily, the church's stance on homosexuality, etc. are the main issues I have focused on.
I grew up attending weekly mass and Catechism classes at the most conservative church in the diocese. Though the teachings were often extremely strict and accusatory, my parents had very different attitudes. Faith, for them, was and is not about oppression, but love. They taught my brother and me to be kind and honest and ensured we knew we were loved unconditionally. They also taught us to think for ourselves and, being Democrats, their views would at time clash with the church's.
I have a very strong memory of standing in a pew next to my mother during a sermon about how a wife must honor her husband. I was young, but still understood it enough to be completely appalled. I sneaked a sideways glance at my mother and her expression, though composed to anyone who didn't know her, was so telling: it was really all in the pursing of her lips. Though I knew, regardless, she couldn't possibly agree with the sermon, the look on her face provided a bit of relief for the mounting guilt I felt for disagreeing myself. Eventually my opposition spread so violently that my parents stopped waking me on Sunday mornings.
It's a bit hard to directly cite influences that have formed my view on this issue. Most of it came from inside me and the raging battle of my thoughts, feelings and opinions versus the Catholic guilt it took me years to shake. Though my parents are Catholics, the manner in which they raised me (to be strong, independent, and think for myself) certainly had a huge hand in eventually straying from the church. As a child, seeing my best friend's father use the Bible to oppress his wife, her family, and his daughter greatly affected me. Friends who were raised without religion provided me with views I might not have considered otherwise. Coming to terms with my body and shedding the terror I felt whenever I had a remotely sexual thought, recognizing and objecting to the church's hateful stance on issues such as homosexuality and abortion, and in general taking issue with the constant, blatant hypocrisy were all things I experienced along the way.
Though it took years of introspection and personal experience to develop my current attitude, it was always a source of comfort to find anything that, and anyone who, could support my ideas and emotions on the matter. As I became more and more exposed to new music, any lyrics I came across that touched on and agreed with my views, I ate up. A line in a book, a quote in a movie, anything that reminded me I wasn't alone. Even comedians (Bill Hicks, for example) were helpful - possibly more so, because I started becoming comfortable with humor as an outlet.
I've been examining all this in different ways for some time, but still feel I've only really touched the surface.
This is why, when we began generating issues relating to gender and identity in class, I offered the topic of religion to the list. I would say that all of my exploration, and fascination, with the subject matter has to do with gender and identity. Having the Virgin Mary as a role model, the oppression of women rampant in the Bible, extreme guilt and anxiety relating to almost anything bodily, the church's stance on homosexuality, etc. are the main issues I have focused on.
I grew up attending weekly mass and Catechism classes at the most conservative church in the diocese. Though the teachings were often extremely strict and accusatory, my parents had very different attitudes. Faith, for them, was and is not about oppression, but love. They taught my brother and me to be kind and honest and ensured we knew we were loved unconditionally. They also taught us to think for ourselves and, being Democrats, their views would at time clash with the church's.
I have a very strong memory of standing in a pew next to my mother during a sermon about how a wife must honor her husband. I was young, but still understood it enough to be completely appalled. I sneaked a sideways glance at my mother and her expression, though composed to anyone who didn't know her, was so telling: it was really all in the pursing of her lips. Though I knew, regardless, she couldn't possibly agree with the sermon, the look on her face provided a bit of relief for the mounting guilt I felt for disagreeing myself. Eventually my opposition spread so violently that my parents stopped waking me on Sunday mornings.
It's a bit hard to directly cite influences that have formed my view on this issue. Most of it came from inside me and the raging battle of my thoughts, feelings and opinions versus the Catholic guilt it took me years to shake. Though my parents are Catholics, the manner in which they raised me (to be strong, independent, and think for myself) certainly had a huge hand in eventually straying from the church. As a child, seeing my best friend's father use the Bible to oppress his wife, her family, and his daughter greatly affected me. Friends who were raised without religion provided me with views I might not have considered otherwise. Coming to terms with my body and shedding the terror I felt whenever I had a remotely sexual thought, recognizing and objecting to the church's hateful stance on issues such as homosexuality and abortion, and in general taking issue with the constant, blatant hypocrisy were all things I experienced along the way.
Though it took years of introspection and personal experience to develop my current attitude, it was always a source of comfort to find anything that, and anyone who, could support my ideas and emotions on the matter. As I became more and more exposed to new music, any lyrics I came across that touched on and agreed with my views, I ate up. A line in a book, a quote in a movie, anything that reminded me I wasn't alone. Even comedians (Bill Hicks, for example) were helpful - possibly more so, because I started becoming comfortable with humor as an outlet.
I've been examining all this in different ways for some time, but still feel I've only really touched the surface.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Class Discussion (1.14)
It was very interesting to hear all the different opinions of why we seek out others who are similar to us. There is such a variety of angles to even approach the topic from, and within it, so many facets.
One student brought up the idea that be dissimilar is sometimes just as important and I began to think about that. There have been times when I've been panicked about how different I look/am and there have been times when I've felt a sense of relief to be the only one standing out. And there have been times I've associated with people who were like me in that they stuck out as well.
I think I am far less likely to avoid someone unless they're "similar enough" than I am to avoid very specific people who are dissimilar in a particular way. I generally enjoy meeting new people, hearing different opinions, being introduced to new things. But I know I'm not, for example, going to a frat party for the experience.
The people around us can often serve as a lens with which to examine ourselves. I've thought about that a great deal over the years in various capacities, but it's been some time since I've really considered the simple aspect of who we seek out and why.
One student brought up the idea that be dissimilar is sometimes just as important and I began to think about that. There have been times when I've been panicked about how different I look/am and there have been times when I've felt a sense of relief to be the only one standing out. And there have been times I've associated with people who were like me in that they stuck out as well.
I think I am far less likely to avoid someone unless they're "similar enough" than I am to avoid very specific people who are dissimilar in a particular way. I generally enjoy meeting new people, hearing different opinions, being introduced to new things. But I know I'm not, for example, going to a frat party for the experience.
The people around us can often serve as a lens with which to examine ourselves. I've thought about that a great deal over the years in various capacities, but it's been some time since I've really considered the simple aspect of who we seek out and why.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Week One
Ruminations of Feminist Fitness Instructor by Barbara Findlen brought up several ideas and feelings that had been floating around, though a bit more vaguely, inside myself. The first line that really grabbed me was, "Couldn't I see how fat they were (25)?" The tendency to be more confused or even appalled by acceptance of one's body than a recognition of its flaws is something I've both witnessed and experienced. Likewise, the struggle between myself and oppressive standards of beauty has often come into conflict with my ideals. It was very inspiring to read of Findlen's consistent inner-conflict, how she justified her career then came to an alternate conclusion and ultimately abandoned aerobic instruction in favor of her dreams.
I especially enjoyed these quotes from The Social Construction of Race, Class, Gender, and Sexuality: "The actual lives of real women and real men throughout history stand in sharp contract to the images of masculinity and femininity that have been constructed by society and then rationalized as reflecting innate differences between the sexes (8)."
"Writing about racism, Algerian born French philosopher Albert Memmi once explained that racism consists of stressing a difference between individuals or populations. The difference can be real or imagined and in itself doesn't entail racism (or, by analogy sexism). It is not difference itself that leads to subordination but the interpretation of difference (11)."
"As Herbert Gans suggests, various ways of classifying and portraying poor people in this country have been used to imply that their poverty reflected some failing in them rather than indicating a social problem for which society as a whole might be held responsible (11)."
Also: "While it is true that Wright was born with dark skin, an aunambiguous physical characteristic, it was for others to define the meaning of being black (10)." This reminded me of a story my father told me about Congressman Hawkins, the first African American in California to become congressman, who my father worked with early in his own career. When Hawkins was young, he attempted to board a bus with his siblings, whose skin was darker than his. The driver demanded his siblings go to the back, but did not direct him to do so. When Hawkins pointed out that he, too, was African American, the driver was confounded. That story has always resonated with me.
I especially enjoyed these quotes from The Social Construction of Race, Class, Gender, and Sexuality: "The actual lives of real women and real men throughout history stand in sharp contract to the images of masculinity and femininity that have been constructed by society and then rationalized as reflecting innate differences between the sexes (8)."
"Writing about racism, Algerian born French philosopher Albert Memmi once explained that racism consists of stressing a difference between individuals or populations. The difference can be real or imagined and in itself doesn't entail racism (or, by analogy sexism). It is not difference itself that leads to subordination but the interpretation of difference (11)."
"As Herbert Gans suggests, various ways of classifying and portraying poor people in this country have been used to imply that their poverty reflected some failing in them rather than indicating a social problem for which society as a whole might be held responsible (11)."
Also: "While it is true that Wright was born with dark skin, an aunambiguous physical characteristic, it was for others to define the meaning of being black (10)." This reminded me of a story my father told me about Congressman Hawkins, the first African American in California to become congressman, who my father worked with early in his own career. When Hawkins was young, he attempted to board a bus with his siblings, whose skin was darker than his. The driver demanded his siblings go to the back, but did not direct him to do so. When Hawkins pointed out that he, too, was African American, the driver was confounded. That story has always resonated with me.
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