Ah, the sweet smell of everyday sexism
by Laura Woodhouse // 22 March 2012, 12:20
Last week, I called our gas and electricity supplier, EDF, to reduce our direct debit payments, because we've been paying too much (result!). I also asked them to change my title from "Miss" to "Ms". I couldn't remember whether I'd specified my title when we moved in to our new house, so I didn't make a big thing of it.
A couple of days later, a letter comes through our door addressed to "Mr My Partner's Name and Miss Laura Woodhouse", confirming the reduction, but stating the incorrect amount. The salutation reads: "Dear Mr My Partner's Name".
Pissed off that they had not only ignored my request and got the amount we wanted to pay wrong, but addressed the letter only to my partner - despite the fact that I was the one who called them and the account is in both our names - I called them again on Monday. I spoke to a different person, and politely pointed out the errors and said I'd appreciate it if any further correspondence could be addressed to both me and my partner. The guy apologised and said he'd fix it.
And guess what I just received through the post? Yep, I'm "Miss" in the address and totally absent from the letter itself. I was willing to write the first occasion off as an admin error, but twice constitutes a dismal failure to offer me even the most basic courtesy. Maybe they just wanted to save me from having to worry my pretty little head about financial matters.
If my poor feminine brain could cope with the figures, I'd be straight onto a comparison website and looking for a new supplier. But instead I'd better go finish the housework so I have time to doll myself up before my husband comes home and gives me my pin money...
Photo by torres21, shared under a Creative Commons Licence.
Cinderella Ate My Daughters
by Philippa Willitts // 22 March 2012, 09:30
I'm a bit of a podcast addict, and this is a short post to recommend a podcast episode I listened to this morning.
Peggy Orenstein is an author whose published books are Waiting for Daisy; Flux: Women on Sex, Work, Kids, Love and Life in a Half-Changed World; and the best-selling SchoolGirls: Young Women, Self-Esteem and the Confidence Gap. Her most recent book, Cinderella Ate My Daughter: Dispatches from the Front Lines of the New Girlie-Girl Culture, is what she was talking about, and reading from, on the podcast.
It is about the Disney Princess-ification (forgive me, grammar!) of girls' childhoods, which is a big concern to many feminists, especially feminist parents. She talks with great passion about the issue on the Authors On Tour podcast, and I would really recommend listening.
She also has a lot of interesting things to say, on her website, about pinkifying (again, sorry) breast cancer.
Listen to her on the Authors On Tour podcast here. There does not appear to be a transcript available.
[The image is a photograph of an image of a woman wearing headphones, created with spray paint and a stencil, taken by Paul Collins in Italy. It is used under a Creative Commons Licence]
Smashing our heads on the glass ceiling: what Public Service in the North does to intelligent women
by CP Reece // 22 March 2012, 09:03
Image shows a cartoon of a woman, standing on a ladder, looking up at a glass panel blocking her way several rungs up. Shared by Jorge Balarezo under a Creative Commons license.
It isn't a formal club, but there are a number of us across the north of England. Some of us were Head teachers, some ran other public services. We're all middle aged. We're all highly intelligent and were good at our jobs.
And we were all forced out, one way or another, before we wanted to go, and often in circumstances that a man in the same position would have survived.
It's said in the North that a clever woman's chances of promotion in public service exist in inverse proportion to the number of ex-miners on local councils and governing bodies. I was "warned" of this fact early in my career, by a woman who had been prepared to keep moving home to be promoted. I resigned myself to either moving or driving great distances (I settled for the latter, adding considerably to my working week) in order to get on. Of course, this factor discriminates against women with families from the start. Most women in my position were either single, childless or had children very early in life who were now adults, but the latter were few and far between.
The other saying I absorbed was that for a woman to be promoted in public service to the same level as a man, she has to be three times as good. Fortunately, this is not difficult.
I got the top job, at 40, with a 15 month old baby. I worked in 2 schools in disadvantaged areas, which was always my choice. Many of my friends and acquaintances succeeded likewise. I'm not saying it happens to everyone; there are many sisters out there still doing the business. But a disproportionate number of us were ousted. And they seem to have a few factors in common.
the book, especially if they are motivated either by altruism or a desire to get the job done more effectively than the rules handed down by predominantly male committees dictate, make themselves vulnerable.
Results: The last 2 Governments keep raising the bar in all walks of public service, including schools. It's a bit like that song by Placebo: Bionic (yes, I know it's about a sex toy, but still...) "Harder, faster... forever after... none of you can make the grade." And it doesn't matter if women managers achieve better results than any of their male predecessors. Some man will always call your achievements into question and use statistics to render them "not good enough". Again, I'm not suggesting that we shouldn't always strive for improvement - I did it for my entire career - but male-dominated councils are very quick to jump on female managers who have even the slightest wobble in performance, even if there are very good reasons for this and one of them is the council's very lack of support for the woman as a manager and leader!
And yes, some of us get financial pay-off's when we go, though they're nowhere near as generous as those men in the same circumstances get! But some don't; I know of more than one dismissed, grossly unfairly, because she disagreed with a man, who cannot get justice from a patriarchal system of tribunals and appeals.
With current cuts to public services, things can only get worse for women trying to smash the glass ceiling that still exists here in the north. Some will lose their jobs. Some won't get promoted in the first place, because they might cost the public purse more by having babies (that still drives some senior appointments up here!) And more will be found wanting and shunted out in an increasingly patriarchal, data-driven, aggressive environment.
I left about a year ago. It still hurts. Some days I cry, some days I smash things, some days I despair. I was one of the lucky ones in terms of having enough money to live on and start a new life: as a writer, campaigner and long distance walker. And my conscience is clear. I know I did a good job, all things considered. I know I opened windows of opportunity for thousands of young people in disadvantaged areas. I know I had a pretty well unbroken record of raising results.
But I worry about those who have been left penniless. And I worry about those ambitious women who come after me, and those I tried to push up the ladder, because they were talented and intelligent. What will be left for them?
March Playlist
by Holly Combe // 21 March 2012, 23:36
This month's playlist (on Spotify) starts off with some Cuban jazz from Omara Portuondo, a perfomer whose career spans six decades and who continues to perform as one of the star singers at The Tropicana in Havana.
Things continue in a jazzy soulful vein, taking in another vocal from Pam Hall (whose version of 'Our Day Will Come' featured in January's playlist), alongside 1990s classics from Martine Girault and Jhelisa and a later version of civil rights activist and folk singer Odetta's 'Hit or Miss'.
There is also a track from Norwegian feminist pop star Deeyah. An activist throughout her career, Deeyah spearheaded the 'Sisterhood' mixtape project for young up and coming female Muslim MCs in 2008 and is a founder of the recently launched Honour Based Violence Awareness Network.
Another song in the playlist that I heard for the first time recently is 'Ready for Revolution' by Dutch Moroccan/Algerian musician Rajae el Mouhandiz. As well as being the first Moroccan woman to study French horn at a Dutch conservatory, Rajae is also the founder of Truthseeker Records and a board member of Ethica. I was prompted to seek out Rajae's music after reading an article on the HIA website, where she talks about leaving her family and community at 15:
"'They just didn't understand that I wanted to be a musician, a rock star, because they expected me to become a mother and a housekeeper and to choose an academic study instead of art.'...'Are you a feminist?' we ask, and she smiles, nods, explains. 'I am an undercover feminist,' she says, 'because although I am a role-model for many young Muslim girls for having made my own choices--against my male-dominated tribe-- I am also proud of my roots, and that is in my music.'"
After a track featuring a performance from poet Nikki Giovanni (from Tupac Shakur's same titled The Rose That Grew From Concrete album), the mood shifts towards Nu-disco, in the form of the positively euphoric 'Freak the Night' by Jessica 6.
Unfortunately, the studio version of 'Freak the Night' is not on YouTube but here's a live version, as it is absolutely not to be missed if you didn't catch it when it came out last year:
Jessica 6 formed when helping put together a Hercules and Love Affair live show and are followed in the playlist by two more artists linked to that act: Kim Ann Foxman and Aérea Negrot.
Following on in this more dance-orientated section are a couple of tracks Cazz introduced me to. The first is a nice pokey bit of electronica composed and performed by Emika (a single from this year) and the second is a piece from Barbara Panther's self-titled album that came out on City Slang last year. (I'll be posting Cazz's review of this on Friday!)
A forthcoming release that I'd have liked to include but isn't available on Spotify yet is the very catchy 'Factory Boys' by I Am A Camera. This is due out on 27 March and is said in the press release to be based on the true story of The Dupont Twins, two teenage boys who lied and tricked their way from their home on a gas station in the US Mid West to the New York club Studio 54:
Rounding off the Spotify playlist is some electronic shoegaze dream pop from M83's Saturdays = Youth. 'Skin of the Night' was not initially my favourite track on that album but the dramatic lyrics and Morgan Kibby's vocals make it one worth returning to. I went to see the group a couple of months ago and found it most fitting to hear Q Lazzarus playing after the gig ended. When is this synthpop classic going to appear on Spotify? And, more to the point, when is an anthology of Q Lazzarus's work going to be released so fans don't have to pay over the odds to get a barely three minute version of 'Goodbye Horses' on the Married to the Mob soundtrack? (Original copies of the single are very scarce and tend to fetch over £100 when they can even be found!)
Finally, by way of a bonus track (to possibly be followed up on later), here's an acoustic version of Marina and the Diamonds' 'Primadonna' which is released on 16 April:
Black and white shot of jazz singer Omara Portuondo by El Humilde Fotero del Pánico, shared under a creative commons licence. This shows Omara in a relaxed pose with her hair in a bun and her hands clasped together just in front of her face. Her left thumb is gently touching her chin. She is looking to her left and smiling slightly.
First discovering you are pregnant :-/
by Guest Blogger // 21 March 2012, 10:38
This is the first in a series of posts by Yasmin, a pregnant feminist who will be sharing her experiences of pregnancy with us, in the hope that she is not alone in her thinking!
When I first discovered I was pregnant, I was hit with an overwhelming sense of shock. I am 32 this year but in no way felt ready to become a mother. For years, I had resisted all 'innocent' remarks about the fact that I continued to remain childless (childfree!) despite having been with my partner for nearly 8 years. Members of my family would talk about this openly and, when friends became pregnant, they would assure me that I too would be overcome with joy at this most 'beautiful' of moments.
The belief, particularly when you are my age, is that you should be grateful that you can still conceive. This, however, was not how I felt. I worried about the loss of freedom, but when I voiced this I was quickly dismissed. 'You can't be young forever!' 'It'll be fine once the baby gets here'. I resented the assumption that by critically considering the far-reaching consequences of this momentous event, I was necessarily being selfish, Western, in my family's eyes. Though my shock subsided and was later replaced with an excitement about what would be happening to me, I have not lost the underlying sense of fear.
This, I guess, was my first experience of the ways in which pregnant women become a body other than their own. People come to not hear you as an individual; rather, they would prefer to see you as a representation of pregnant WOMAN. A special identity to which you are supposed to readily subsume the one you have painstakingly been constructing over the last 31 years!
Whatever the case, you are not really given a space to voice your fears and concerns because this is supposed to be a time of great joy and happiness. Should you experience joy yet have this tinged with worry and sadness at the loss of your former self, this is frowned upon. Indeed, people squirm in your presence because the pattern of pregnant woman conversation is not following its usual and 'natural' course.
This early pathologising of what to me seems one of many, logical reactions to pregnancy signals, as I see it, the ways in which pregnant women are from the very beginning, public property. If you do not instantly feel maternal then something is inherently wrong. You cannot possibly want or feel something different to the patriarchal construction of all women as aspirant mothers.
And what a mother should be is anything but critical of the process and all that it entails. At my first antenatal appointment, the one in which you are given the picture of your baby, I was 'able to find something to complain about' because, I am an 'angry feminist' whose rational thinking brain has long since gone out of the window. Apparently, I should not have been so 'put out' by the fact that the instructional videos aired for expectant parents continuously referred to the baby as HE. When I mentioned this to a pregnant friend I was made to feel like this was no time for my feminist gripes, I was pregnant and should be damn happy about it too!
How, I wondered, was the fact that I was pregnant supposed to act as a buffer to my feminist ideals? How could this old friend, who knows exactly how important feminism is to me, blithely tell me to discount my indignation? Well, the answer was simple; pregnancy is not a time for critical reflection about gender. In fact, it is the point at which you return to your natural and instinctual self. Why, at this point, be critical of the fact that boys are presented as the human default? It is just harmless, nothing to be worried about. As though this is not in some way related to the sad reality which has millions of female foetuses selectively aborted. Nothing can or should derail my 100% mirth at being part of the 'special club'!
Yasmin also writes for Black Feminists, who you can follow on twitter @BlackfeministUK.
New review: The Selecter's Made in Britain
by Holly Combe // 20 March 2012, 23:05
"I think we were probably the first [band] to start talking about racism and actually take -if you like- the race question out there and start informing people about it."
Late 1970s Coventry was not only a place of excitement and creativity, musically speaking, but also a force for cultural change. As The Selecter's Pauline Black discusses as a guest on Radio4's most recent Saturday Live, informing people was part of 2 Tone's agenda.
Nominated for this year's London Book Awards (taking place in June), Pauline has continued a successful entertainment career since The Selecter's split in 1982, with accolades including a Time Out Best Actress award for her portrayal of Billie Holiday in the play All or Nothing at All in 1991.
The Selecter made a return last year with the album Made in Britain and Helen G has reviewed it, paying particular attention to the relevance of the lyrics and themes in today's political climate:
...Opening track 'Big In The Body-Small In The Mind' is a reworking of Woody Guthrie's 'All You Fascists Bound To Lose' and sees the band clearly setting out its anti-racist agenda. It finds the two original members of The Selecter in fine form, backed by a solid rhythm interwoven with a sinewy horn section. It's followed by 'Fuck Art, Let's Dance', which looks back at the band's past, paving the way for a stunning cover of Amy Winehouse's 'Back To Black' with perhaps some of the most soulful vocals Pauline Black has ever recorded.
After a trio of solid tracks like that, it would have been easy for the band to switch to automatic and record seven tracks of filler. Thankfully, the passion, commitment and integrity of the musicians shines through and drives the album forward to deliver a unified whole, where the trademark socially conscious lyrics are given a musical setting which neither submerges nor subtracts from the message.'My England', in particular, makes the point that, while many things have changed in society over the past three decades, too many issues remain the same: racism, disenfranchisement, disempowerment, unemployment, poverty, cuts in public services, the seemingly unstoppable rise of right wing politics and the marginalisation of a sizeable proportion of the population from a ruling elite fixated on the twin fetishes of consumerism and materialism. Nowhere is this more strikingly underlined than in the inclusion of a new version of 'They Make Me Mad' from 1980's Too Much Pressure album, the lyrics of which are as relevant as they ever were in their attack on the divisive rhetoric of the privileged...
Click here to read on and comment.
Ask A Feminist #7: A personal story
by Laura Woodhouse // 20 March 2012, 16:55
This week I'm handing over to Linda, who got in touch to ask if she could share her story of being stalked after being left by her ex. She would appreciate any comments and thoughts from readers, particularly those who have had similar experiences.
This is my story.
I was being stalked. Not by my ex, but by his and his girlfriend's friends. I went to the police and I worked with them to catch the main culprits.
There were many, many people doing this. I counted over one hundred, all strangers to me. All recognised me straight away. All either laughed in my face, shouted at me or called me the most disgusting names. Some even threatened my physical safety. This was mob rule of the worst kind.
I became very, very frightened. I was recently forced to leave the city I lived in because of this. I became very ill from it. These people knew that this was hurting me. They openly enjoyed watching me suffer. This could happen any time of the day or night, and even just when I was walking to a nearby shop. In these people's eyes I stalked and hurt my ex. He did, indeed, get hurt, but no stalking occurred.
So I gave full information to the police as to my whereabouts/activities on any days my ex called into question, to clear up any perceived misunderstandings. They also questioned my ex, and he flatly denied setting up any circumstances where I could be harassed by his friends. But I clearly heard them use his name when they were slandering me. The police agreed that something pre-orchestrated and deliberate appeared to be going on.
The most reasonable explanation that we could come up with was that my ex, or his girlfriend, or their friends, used a popular social networking site, emails and texts to spread my photo around so that people would recognise me and spread lies about me; it was cyber-bullying. I also believe that some of them may have attempted to look into my private financial information.
So I began to fear for my safety in a city that I used to adore. These people pursued me relentlessly for over a year. And I cried in fear and humiliation, almost every day of that year.
Friends said that this was just blatant jealousy. That was all very well, but it did not feel like that when I was in the middle of a gang of them and they were jeering at me. Or slowing down their cars at night, to scream at me in his/her name.
Jealousy or not, I do know that this was sexism. My ex and I had a very stupid and ill-advised affair, some time ago. He went back to his girlfriend. They are still together. But as I explained to the police, it's like he got everything he wanted from both of us. And yet, I was the one being punished on a daily basis, by this harassment.
No doubt about it, I acted like a fool for a guy I cared deeply about. You see, I pursued him for sex. I initiated much of our sexual activity. I was hurt, but not destroyed, after he chose her and left, again. I continued to walk the streets with my head held high.
But I did not deserve full-on mob judgement and daily fear from his peers. These people were punishing me for supposedly hurting my ex. This, I now realise, was about petty revenge, not justice. He got hurt. I got hurt. But my feelings, my humanness, did not seem to matter to these people.
This was objectification in the extreme.
And I feel that this story clearly highlights the underlying misogyny that society pretends does not really exist, that is, until a woman steps out of her role as a victim and continues on with her life as normal.
I would appreciate any support or advice you can offer. I am currently receiving therapy for the trauma I suffered. I am safe and I have moved away. And this is partly an opportunity to vent, I have to say! But I guess it is also a plea for some logical thoughts from all of you in the F-Word community. I am proud to say that I am one of you.
Dennis Waterman: "It's not hard for a woman to make a man hit her"
by Philippa Willitts // 20 March 2012, 09:30
Actor Dennis Waterman has come out and said that he punched his former wife, Rula Lenska. In an astonishing display of passive aggression, he takes no responsibility for his actions, instead blaming Lenska for being "too intelligent".
In what he perhaps sees as a twisted compliment, he describes how, because she was cleverer than him, he found it hard to argue with her, saying,
""The problem with strong, intelligent women is that they can argue, well. And if there is a time where you can't get a word in... and I... I lashed out. I couldn't end the argument.Is she supposed to feel flattered by this? Or blamed. If she hadn't been so intelligent, she wouldn't have been hit? He is admitting punching this woman, yet still making himself out to be the victim. This is an incredibly manipulative way to attempt to justify his behaviour."Something must have brought it on."
He also downplays her allegations of drunken abuse, in contradictory statements, like
"She certainly wasn't a beaten wife, she was hit and that's different."Going back to blaming Lenska, and apparently generalising his misogynist victim-blaming to other victims of domestic violence, he is reported to have said,
"It's not difficult for a woman to make a man hit her", and,
"if a woman is a bit of a power freak and determined to put you down, and if you're not bright enough to do it with words, it can happen."Thankfully, the Mirror article reporting on this have pertinent and important quotes from Refuge, who point out that
"He alone is responsible for his behaviour".Needless to say, domestic violence is never the victims' fault, regardless of whether they are intelligent or not, good at arguing or not, and a power freak or not. It is always the abuser's fault, and no responsible and respectful adult should react with violence to their partner. Losing an argument and not being able to "get a word in" are just facts of life sometimes. Responding with your fists to someone you purport to love is never, ever acceptable. It's as simple as that.
[The image is a photograph of the actor Dennis Waterman. He is a fair-skinned, older man and is photographed on set in a park and wearing a black jacket and purple shirt and tie. It was taken by Garry Knight and is used under a Creative Commons Licence]
International Anti-Street Harassment Week
by Laura Woodhouse // 19 March 2012, 16:01
Yesterday marked the start of International Anti-Street Harassment Week (which I'm posting about today as I can't quite get my head around weeks starting on a Sunday!). The aim of the week is to raise awareness about gender-based street harassment and send out the clear message that it's not OK. The Meet Us On The Streets website has details of events going on all round the world.
Back in 2008 I wrote a quick post in response to a Comment is Free piece where commenters were asserting that street harassment hardly ever happens and is all harmless fun anyway. I asked readers to leave a comment if they'd experienced street harassment, and almost four years and over 400 comments later they're still coming in. Here are just a few excerpts:
I got threatened with rape on my way home just under a fortnight ago - when I responded angrily the creeps followed me down the road ("It was just a joke - there's no call for that type of language!") until I mimed dialling 999.
My worst experience most recently was walking home from work on a Saturday night and two lads passing me in the street. At exactly the moment we crossed paths one stuck his hand out and groped my breast.
The most unique incident is probably when two of my friends and I were propositioned by a man when we were coming home from the supermarket. He wanted to have a multi-ethnic foursome.
When I was fourteen or fifteen, I used to get harassed by a man on my way to school every morning. He was a car-park attendant and I had to walk through the (usually deserted) car park to get to school, and every time he saw me he'd wolf whistle or ask for my name or make lewd comments.
Men have often kicked, grabbed or forcefully pushed me (even at the top of stair cases) when I'm out in my wheelchair. It's scary.
The response to my post came as no surprise to many readers, but I think it's an important collection of experiences because so many people - mostly men - simply don't understand that street harassment is a problem. As one male commenter put it:
As a guy, this is truly horrible reading. I don't recall witnessing any harassment, but I guess it's because as a man it isn't (luckily for me) something that effects me directly and as stated above, it's a much rarer occurrence when other men are present.
It's clearly common, but why isn't street harassment just harmless fun, complimentary even?
Quite simply, because it prevents us from using public space freely, by which I mean free from intrusion, judgement, fear, intimidation and assault.
Yes, some women may be quite chuffed to be told by a random stranger that they look sexy, but seeing as these women don't tend to carry a big sign saying "compliments welcome", Mr Random Stranger can't tell how a given woman is going to feel about his supposed compliment. If he really is so fond of women, he would do better to keep his approval to himself.
Because what Mr Random Stranger needs to realise is that many women have experienced so-called compliments quickly descending into nastiness when they don't respond in the desired way, and so "compliments" often carry threatening undertones. Same goes for wolf whistles. How are we supposed to know that "Give us a smile, love" won't turn into "Moody fucking bitch" or that "What's your name, darling?" won't turn into sexual assault? I know I don't, because both these things have happened to me. And even if we haven't experienced things taking a turn for the worse, why should we have our private space invaded by complete strangers, our bodies judged by men we have no interest in, our attention demanded for no good reason when we're busy with our own affairs?
Street harassment affects women so deeply that we change our routes to school and work, avoid using public transport at night, stop going out running, feel anxious every time we walk past a group of men, and walk with our heads down and eyes averted instead of enjoying the space around us, to list just a few of the self-imposed limitations mentioned by commenters on my blog post. We're hurt and angered by our experiences of street harassment hours, days and even years after they occur. I can't count the number of times my day has turned sour because some wanker decided to harass me on my way home and I couldn't think of a decent response or was too afraid to call him out. I hate how powerless that makes me feel.
So for International Anti-Street Harassment Week, I'd quite simply like men on the street to stop. Stop with the wolf whistles, the beeping horns, the demands for attention, the sexual comments, the stares, the touching, the groping, the jokes at our expense. And for the men who don't do those things, recognise that we can't differentiate you from the rest of them. Move out the way, don't block the pavement when you're in a group, cross the road if you find yourself walking close behind a woman at night. Learn how to be an ally. Street harassment has to end.
Weekly round-up and open thread
by Jolene Tan // 19 March 2012, 08:39
Image shows a pitcher plant
Good morning, and welcome to the weekly thread of links! (And there are a lot of them this week.) Comments are open for you to post anything we missed or just have a feminist chat. As always, a link doesn't necessarily imply agreement or endorsement, and some links may be triggering.
...and you've made it to the end! Here's something a bit lighter - the trailer for the new Hunger Games film, which is out this week. Plenty of grist for the feminist mill in the books; let's hope it survives the transition to the big screen.
Founder of The F-Word, Catherine Redfern, has co-authored a new book with Kristin Aune. Find out more at the 
