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Calling Bullshit on “The New Math”

2.11.10 Carmen | 5 Comments »

I was snowed in, stuck in a blizzard here in Washington, DC, when I got “the news.”  The New York Times? Talking to me about hookup culture? I was excited, but notably crushed by the article, a hopeless observation of a new “problem with no name.”

The New York Times has given up on hookup culture. They declared that we, as women, were desperate and lonely. We were stuck with other women (the horror!) and we were stuck searching for partners who treated us right. We were being cheated on, and treated like dirt. And the reason for all of this, they say, is not the men we’re dating, the culture we’re living in, or the assumption that we want to get married in the first place.

The problem the The New York Times identified was college admissions numbers.

The article, relying on gender stereotypes, said that the longer colleges admitted so many women, the longer men would have the power to shape the dating landscapes on campuses. Why? Well, because women need these men. Women need their approval, need to love them, to marry them; therefore, women have to choose between being The New York Times prude orThe New York Times slut. When men are in the majority, they control the culture. When men aren’t, they still do. And the problem?

The New York Times really thinks the problem is admissions numbers.

I wrote a letter to solve this problem, and submitted it via email from my couch. My goal wasn’t to be angry or upset, or to go on and on about all the boys that never call and the hookups that become heartaches. My goal was just to let them know that I have suffered at the hands of hookup culture, too, and that I didn’t do it because I went to college to get married or find anyone else’s approval. I am fulfilled just as I am, and that is why this culture hasn’t taken away anything more from me than some of my pride.

My goal was to make them think about how little admissions numbers have to do with hookup culture and partners who don’t respect us.

To whom it may concern,

Last semester, I found myself grief-stricken by college hookup culture. No longer a myth and instead an institution of most contemporary collegiate lives, it has taken its strongest sexually empowered soldiers through the dirt. When I read “The New Math on Campus,” I was struck by your observation that women were being treated badly by hookup culture, and people of all genders were frustrated with it. But I was even more struck by what the article chose to highlight: that these women were lonely and seemingly desperate to be a part of this.

I would like for your staff to do a piece on a hookup culture that does not accept it, but challenges the root causes and assumptions. The problem with hookup culture isn’t marriage, or sex, but the belief that single women are being hurt by their success and not their colleagues. These women are going places! And your staff has no idea.

Hopefully yours,

Carmen Rios.

“Dance Anthem” + Sexual Independence

2.3.10 Carmen | No Comments »

500 Regina

You know, I’ve heard sexual songs before. Hip-hop, pop, rock, even country litter what would be a beautiful record collection within my hard drive. This means I know it all, and that means I know that nothing is as it seems. of Montreal whispered to me that my body was actually an earthquake, and Bon Iver sometimes urges me to “multiply.”  Even Death Cab knew how it sometimes was, narrating the stories of women who don’t know they deserve better and others who give up on fulfilling sexuality too soon.

But there is something to be noted about Regina Spektor’s “Dance Anthem of the 80’s.” The song is frank: “there’s a meat market down the street, where boys and girls watch each other eat,” she explains to us all, “but they really just want to watch each other sleep.” So, she knew us all along, then, be it because she watched us strut down sidewalks with arms linked (or because she’s keeping tracks on all those kids traversing campus in the jeans, plaid, or toga from the night before).

But “Dance Anthem” is less about sex than it is about that difficult path to becoming a sexual being. I knew the song was special when she started telling a vague and generic story that suddenly came to life as my own, and, as I realize now, a little bit of everyone’s, sometimes difficult journey to sexual independence.

“I went walking through the city, like a drunk, but not, with my slip showin’ a little, like a drunk, but not- and I am one of your people, but the cars don’t stop. It’s been a long time since before I’ve been touched, and now I’m gettin’ touched all the time. It’s a matter of whom, and it’s a matter of when.”

I was struck by the imagery of that scenario, one that captures every step of that process. We begin carefree, trusting, and unaware of the implications of seeking pleasure in the society we live in. Then, we find ourselves caught alone when we realize that to do this hookup thing for ourselves, we need to truly appreciate ourselves. And then- the realization. The sudden, closing, and empowering thought that even if pleasure seeking means some lost pride and some missteps along the way, it is the self-assurance that every night belongs to our desires that keeps our heads raised. Learning to express sexual desire means nobody else controls those desires, or our actions. They belong, finally, to us, and not to the media, the textbooks, or anyone else.

Except maybe Regina.

Media glutton + Internet geek + Feminist

1.20.10 Carmen | 1 Comment »

500_carmen2

I began my second morning as a Soapbox Soldier with an Americano. I ordered a small, upsized to a medium, and sat down to smell the beans before running to our first meeting at the Feminist Press, up the street from Penn Station at the CUNY Graduate Center.

This was just the beginning of a day focused on media: on getting into it, on challenging it, on consuming it, and on creating it. I was particularly interested in this, as someone who has ventured into the areas of film, graphic design, writing, and promotions in her time as a student and advocate and has thoroughly enjoyed it all.

The organizations hosting us and speaking with us were all what seemed like worlds apart: from the Feminist Press, the oldest feminist publisher in the world (and just a note- yes, book design is still an appreciated art) to the Women’s Media Center, which advocates for more equal gender representation and opportunity in the media, and even Courtney Martin of Feministing, the world of “real-life feminists” seemed to be one full of different creative outlets. This is a good sign for activists, I think- we’re going to stay busy, which means we will stay satisfied. We also get to choose from a variety of activities to express our feminism, be it through blogs or PSAs.

In terms of how these various mediums benefit feminism, well- messages. Gloria Jacobs of the Feminist Press sees it as a vehicle for feminist thought that goes beyond “women’s issues” – it’s about bringing forth the issues relevant to women’s lives, written about by women, or even separate from women but related to other social justice causes. This was echoed by Debbie of BUST Magazine, who met with us and professed deep convictions that presenting typically “frowned upon” things like cooking, knitting, and fashion in BUST was controversial but necessary: she is trying to create a feminist pop culture, not critique an anti-feminist one.

So this leaves me, the media glutton and the internet geek, slouching in trains at the end of the night piecing it all together. “Carmen, how you gonna do it? How can you? What should you do?” For now, I’m taking the young and ambitious route: I’m doing a little bit of it all. I’m going to remain vigilant, remain visible, but make more of an effort now to reach out to media outlets and let them know how I feel about their programming and coverage. I’m going to remain outspoken and nontraditionally active in feminism, but I’m also going to stick to my guns and lobby and rally and yell like all hell. This is what feminism is made of, after all. Love for your own voice and respect for your own self, and knowing that nothing else matters- except maybe figuring out which blog to publish first.

Do women need “rescuing”?

1.12.10 Carmen | 1 Comment »

500_FWT1

To describe the first day of Feminist Winter Term would be too challenging a task for a paragraph, so today I made the executive decision (for your benefit, as well) to simply blog about each day individually.

It began with the classic feminist icebreaker: “when did it click?” There was laughter and there were tears, and one heartbreaking story about someone’s four-year-old niece, who said she wanted to be a president when she grew up…and knew that in order to do so, she needed to grow up to be a boy. We checked out the local area, hit up Babeland and Bluestockings (what kind of feminists would we be in NYC without such things?), and then stopped in for our first meeting.

The Ms. Foundation. Speakers from were also in attendance from the Barnaba Institute as we crowded into a conference room and listened to stories of sex trafficking, girls as young as 9 forced into sex slavery and kidnapped off the streets by pimps who beat them and then convinced them they were meant for each other. The stories were a challenge to listen to, not only because of the wrenching imagery, but also because of my nagging gender studies conscience, which wanted so badly (and then raised my hand) to ask –

Do you think it’s a problem with sex work, or do you think a lot of this is also masculinity and sexuality and how we talk about them? If we gave women agency, and control, wouldn’t these pimps be powerless?

There was hesitation from the presenters and from the audience, although a few receptive voices backed me up. There is more to human trafficking, after all, than the capitalist needs and demands- there are people doing these things. And do women need “rescuing?” Well, I suppose anyone would need such a thing if they were being beaten, killed, and forced into sex slavery. But does it deny sex workers whom opt-in to sex work, and operate either independently or within an “organization,” and reap successful capital, to summarize sex work as inherently dangerous? And why are we worried only about rescuing the victims, and not finding those sniveling, pathetic people committing the real crime- abuse- against them? (As you can see, it was thoughtful to say the least.)

I left early and hopped the C Train with setting up to do.

Shelby Knox. She sat with her usual ease, blending in with us mere mortal feminists before she delivered her story. Some of us confessed to have never seeing The Education of Shelby Knox, but anyone who has ever met Shelby knows that that’s the least of her worries- instead, we tackled intergenerational feminist divides, how to unite our movement, and exactly what we young people, gathered by Soapbox Media, think of being called the “Forth Wave,” a term Shelby likes to use to describe herself.

If the people I’ve met so far, and the cards I’ve handed out, the smiles I’ve received, and the casual discussions about rape culture I’ve had at FWT so far have taught me anything, it’s that a term about what is to come is the best for us: because we’ve got a lot of energy in the works. (Also, cheers to encouraging someone to buy Yes Means Yes! – I remain loyal, ladies.)

Packing for (Feminist) Boot Camp

1.5.10 Carmen | No Comments »

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As school begins in the Capital City, I will be far away in New York. Reckless? Ah, it would appear that way, but alas- I am merely suiting up for Soapbox Media’s Feminist Winter Term, a weeklong activism conference for young people that focuses on women’s issues, women’s history, activism and methodology, and professional development.

If you managed to find out about it prior to registration and will also be in attendance, let it be known that you will have a comrade from THE LINE in your ranks. But if you didn’t, regret not! I will be reporting back via this very blog about the skills I pick up, the techniques I realize, and the people I meet.

(PS- information on the conference and a tentative agenda can be found online, and if you’re wondering who I requested they bring to town, my answer was inevitably Hillary Clinton.)

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