Here are my random thoughts for the day. The theme is women: each of my thoughts has something to do with patriarchal traditions and/or the objectification of women.
You know the generation of men who thinks it's perfectly acceptable to address women as sweetie, babe, honey, etc? You know, the ones who also think it's okay to "affectionately" touch a woman by patting her on the back or brushing their hand against her leg? Yeah, I won't be disappointed when they die off. (I'm not referring to the men who are part of this generation but do not display such behaviors)
Even though I come from the hockey capital of the United States, it was not until last night that I attended my first professional hockey game: the Ducks vs. the Rangers. It was pretty fun, and watching a bunch of guys skating around and chasing a puck makes for pretty good entertainment. So here's the deal: when the puck is not in play, these beautiful size zero women skate out to clear the ice around the goals. They wear tight pants and midriff-bearing tops. One of my friends (from the East Coast) commented that the people who perform this same task at Rangers games are men. And, I talked to my dad today, and he confirmed that it is indeed men who clear the ice at the Minnesota Wild games. Apparently, in Orange County, the only way to include women in sports is by objectifying them. Case in point: at the Angels games, the people who do promotional giveaways and PR stuff are, you guessed it, beautiful size zero women in short shorts and baseball jerseys. (Note: I saw nothing of the sort at Twins games and a Cubs game last spring)
I have been making my way through my holiday movie list. I watched 'Love Actually' last week. This is a movie that has like 10 different storylines concerning the love lives of 10 couples. While I commend the movie for featuring interracial relationships, it falls short in its portrayal of women. Colin Firth's character falls in love with his young, Polish cleaning lady; Hugh Grant's character (as the Prime Minister) falls in love with this young girl who does nothing more than serve him tea and cookies (or biscuits, as the Brits call them, I suppose); Alan Rickman's character (who is married to a successful working woman roughly his age) has this sketchy relationship (bordering a quasi-affair) with his young secretary. Do you see a pattern here? I watch this movie every year, and every year, I get annoyed with myself for watching it.
I was on the Knot today, this all-things-wedding website. (My cousin is getting married, and I was checking to see if he had a wedding webpage) I came across this, a Bride Name Change Kit. Holy fuck! Seriously? Seriously. Uh, women have been easily coerced into embracing this patriarchal tradition, and I don't think they need software to make it easier. Sure, some women think that changing their name when they get married isn't a big deal and that they aren't any less feminist for doing so. Uh, right. I also like how women claim that their husbands did not care if they changed their name. How thoughtful. Your husband gave you permission to keep your own name. Boys get to grow up believing that their identities won't change and assuming that their future wife will take their name. Until it's common for men to change their name when they marry and until it's not assumed that women will just take their husbands identity, changing my name isn't an option. I do realize, however, that this is extremely unlikely to occur in my lifetime.
On Election Day, I was waiting in line to vote. There were 2 women behind me. One asked the other a question about voter registration. She had recently married and changed her name, and she was concerned that she might not be able to vote since the name on the registration rolls and her ID were not the same. I really wanted to turn to her and tell her that if she doesn't have the backbone to keep her own name, then maybe she shouldn't be allowed to cast a vote either. (harsh, I know) Then I heard her say something I seem to hear a lot of women say: "I didn't want to change my name, but..." Seems like it's usually the women who lose the name change battle. (It seems as though they are under the impression that the sky will fall if members of a family have different last names.) And, to make themselves feel better, women have coped by either hyphenating or moving their given last name to their middle name. I don't know which option is more pathetic. With respect to hyphenating, women are still the ones signalling a change in marital status, while men are off the hook. With respect to moving the "maiden" name to the middle name, who actually uses their middle name? Nobody actually knows each other's middle names, so what's the point? I mean, my middle name could be dumbass, for all you know. (by the way, it's Kathryn)
Damn, what's gotten into me today? I'm a little feisty, it seems. All right, the next post will be simply jolly: you'll get some pictures and a chronicle of my baking feats. I like how I just spent this entire post railing against patriarchy and the objectification of women, and then I promise to talk about baking (a traditionally feminine task) in the next post.
You know the generation of men who thinks it's perfectly acceptable to address women as sweetie, babe, honey, etc? You know, the ones who also think it's okay to "affectionately" touch a woman by patting her on the back or brushing their hand against her leg? Yeah, I won't be disappointed when they die off. (I'm not referring to the men who are part of this generation but do not display such behaviors)
Even though I come from the hockey capital of the United States, it was not until last night that I attended my first professional hockey game: the Ducks vs. the Rangers. It was pretty fun, and watching a bunch of guys skating around and chasing a puck makes for pretty good entertainment. So here's the deal: when the puck is not in play, these beautiful size zero women skate out to clear the ice around the goals. They wear tight pants and midriff-bearing tops. One of my friends (from the East Coast) commented that the people who perform this same task at Rangers games are men. And, I talked to my dad today, and he confirmed that it is indeed men who clear the ice at the Minnesota Wild games. Apparently, in Orange County, the only way to include women in sports is by objectifying them. Case in point: at the Angels games, the people who do promotional giveaways and PR stuff are, you guessed it, beautiful size zero women in short shorts and baseball jerseys. (Note: I saw nothing of the sort at Twins games and a Cubs game last spring)
I have been making my way through my holiday movie list. I watched 'Love Actually' last week. This is a movie that has like 10 different storylines concerning the love lives of 10 couples. While I commend the movie for featuring interracial relationships, it falls short in its portrayal of women. Colin Firth's character falls in love with his young, Polish cleaning lady; Hugh Grant's character (as the Prime Minister) falls in love with this young girl who does nothing more than serve him tea and cookies (or biscuits, as the Brits call them, I suppose); Alan Rickman's character (who is married to a successful working woman roughly his age) has this sketchy relationship (bordering a quasi-affair) with his young secretary. Do you see a pattern here? I watch this movie every year, and every year, I get annoyed with myself for watching it.
I was on the Knot today, this all-things-wedding website. (My cousin is getting married, and I was checking to see if he had a wedding webpage) I came across this, a Bride Name Change Kit. Holy fuck! Seriously? Seriously. Uh, women have been easily coerced into embracing this patriarchal tradition, and I don't think they need software to make it easier. Sure, some women think that changing their name when they get married isn't a big deal and that they aren't any less feminist for doing so. Uh, right. I also like how women claim that their husbands did not care if they changed their name. How thoughtful. Your husband gave you permission to keep your own name. Boys get to grow up believing that their identities won't change and assuming that their future wife will take their name. Until it's common for men to change their name when they marry and until it's not assumed that women will just take their husbands identity, changing my name isn't an option. I do realize, however, that this is extremely unlikely to occur in my lifetime.
On Election Day, I was waiting in line to vote. There were 2 women behind me. One asked the other a question about voter registration. She had recently married and changed her name, and she was concerned that she might not be able to vote since the name on the registration rolls and her ID were not the same. I really wanted to turn to her and tell her that if she doesn't have the backbone to keep her own name, then maybe she shouldn't be allowed to cast a vote either. (harsh, I know) Then I heard her say something I seem to hear a lot of women say: "I didn't want to change my name, but..." Seems like it's usually the women who lose the name change battle. (It seems as though they are under the impression that the sky will fall if members of a family have different last names.) And, to make themselves feel better, women have coped by either hyphenating or moving their given last name to their middle name. I don't know which option is more pathetic. With respect to hyphenating, women are still the ones signalling a change in marital status, while men are off the hook. With respect to moving the "maiden" name to the middle name, who actually uses their middle name? Nobody actually knows each other's middle names, so what's the point? I mean, my middle name could be dumbass, for all you know. (by the way, it's Kathryn)
Damn, what's gotten into me today? I'm a little feisty, it seems. All right, the next post will be simply jolly: you'll get some pictures and a chronicle of my baking feats. I like how I just spent this entire post railing against patriarchy and the objectification of women, and then I promise to talk about baking (a traditionally feminine task) in the next post.
1 comment:
So here's the thing...I hear you 100% on the name change and it is one of my greatest feminist failures that I just can't reconcile with my own narcissism.
You see, I despite my last name. Hate it. It's weird-sounding, has an odd consonant mix (b-n, hard to pronounce) and doesn't fit with my first name.
Thus, unless my husband's last name was something like Butkis or Ballsley, I am going to change it, simply because I like the way it sounds (note: in all likelihood it will end up "Dale," which is short, sweet, neutral, and simple).
It drives me crazy because the only reason I want to change it is because I hate my own so much...when I was a little girl, before I knew how it all worked, I wanted to change my last name to Champion. Not kidding. I would draw Amanda Champion on my papers.
I think I need therapy.
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