Hannah

As evidenced by my Twilight post, I identify as a feminist. I didn’t used to of course. I spent most of my life getting mixed messages about being female. On the one hand, Woo hoo! you can make babies! On the other hand, you’ll be treated as a second-class citizen and everything about you will be considered inferior and week. Woo hoo?

My first lessons on being a woman came from the same place every woman gets her first lessons on being a woman: My Mom. Parents are not perfect creatures, mine is no exception. We’re from a long line of women who think woman = victim. Therefore, it’s best to act as ‘masculine’ as possible. But, at the same time, you hear them forever whispering in your ear, ‘You keep acting like that and you’ll never find a husband!’ What? I was so very confused.

What very little I knew about feminism came from the sensationalized stories you read in the history books. It never occurred to me back then that those books were written by men, whose perspective on feminism might be a little, um, skewed. I thought it was all bra burning, man hating, no wearing make up militancy. Then I learned the truth.

By virtue of my genitalia and the societal implications thereof, I will earn about 75 cents for every dollar a man makes. I will live under the constant fear of rape. Should I be raped, many people will find it to be my fault, no matter the circumstance. I will not be trusted to make my own reproductive decisions. I am expected to spend my entire life in pursuit of man, with whom it should be my desire to pop out kids. I thought all of these things were relics of the quaint 1950s, but no, that mindset is alive and well in this day and age.

This all came as a shock to me. In high school, I was simply the smart kid. Not the smart girl. No, the smart kid. I was also the goth kid. Again, not the goth girl, the goth kid. I had friends who were boys, I had friends who were girls. I had crushes on boys, but overall, I was sexless. Note that’s sex as in male or female, not as in getting it on. Which, I wasn’t doing either.

When I got to college though, and started taking stock of the world outside my little hole, I realized just how messed up things were. A boy can sleep around and he’s a stud. A girl does it and not only is she a slut, but she’ll also be at the receiving end of the dreaded ‘Bless her heart.’ (Note to non-Southerners: ‘Bless your heart’ when used in certain contexts is an insult. Chances are some fine, upstanding Southern matriarch thinks you’re a trollop, but is well-bred enough not to come right out and say it.) As women, we’re treated like cattle. Hysterical, overly emotional cattle. Not like human beings, no no no, we’re a ’special interest group.’ Young women put their sexuality on display not for their own gratification, but to attract males. Girls make out with other girls not in an effort to explore their own sexuality for their own well-being. Nope, they do it because it really turns the guys on. And let’s not even go into the sexual assault statistics at universities.

College was one thing, and I have Dr. Sheila Skemp to credit for opening my eyes to a number of different things. I thought, perhaps, that the real, working world would somehow be different. I mean, I would be working with JOURNALISTS. Journalists seek truth! Journalists understand the world on a competely different level than mere civilians! HA!

I found my answer in feminism. Feminism, to me, doesn’t expect you to be X, Y or Z, it merely expects you to BE. Whatever it is you choose, MAKE THE CHOICE. It isn’t about sitting around and whining about how I make less money or how everything marketed to me is pink. It’s not about doing as you’re told or even as you were taught. It’s about realizing something is inherently wrong with the system and getting off your bum to do something about it. The ways can be small or they can be dramatic. Merely reminding your coworkers that sexual assault is, in fact, not funny can be just as effective as running for office. It’s the small things that make a difference.

And the devil is, as always, in the the details. Look around and you’ll see sexism in the most innocuous of places. Watch commercials. See how the wife is positioned as the shrew to the poor, long-suffering man who just wants to drink beer and watch football? Because, you know, no woman EVER wants to drink beer and watch football. And if she says she does, well, we all know it’s because she’s trying to hook a man. PUH-LEASE. And that’s not even taking account how things get marketed to women. Waxing kits! Cellulite treatments! Weight loss products! Apparently you’re supposed to be thin, lump-free and hairless. What?

Take a look at our slang. We’ll call someone a pussy and tell someone to grow some balls. Obviously, vagina=bad, testicles=good. Fabulous. Really.

That’s not to say that I see sexism every where and that I throw a fit about it. But, these little things add up. Think about our country’s bipolar views on sex. Boobs used to sell things? Hell yea! Boobs used as nature intended, to feed infants? OMG! EW! Frank talk about safe sex with teens? NO!!! Nonstop deluge of rape, murder, torture on various crime shows? YAY!

There are so many other issues that deserve their own post, but let me wrap up. While there is no clear-cut answer to any of these questions, at least feminism brings them out into the open and says ‘Hey, this is a problem; let’s talk about it.’ And that’s at least a start.

If you’ve read my ‘About Me’ blurb, you know I work for a daily newspaper in South Mississippi. Said daily newspaper is owned by McClatchy, the No. 3 newspaper chain in the country. Monday, the chain laid off 1,400 workers throughout the chain.

Ten of those came from my newspaper with five of the spots coming from our already woefully understaffed newsroom. The already overworked, understaffed copy/design desk (of which I am a member) lost another one. Schedules were tricky enough before, now it’s literally going to be like getting blood from a stone. My poor supervisor, already inundated with work preparing for the new computer system, now has to do some wicked voodoo to make the schedule work.

Wait, you’re thinking, what’s so hard about a schedule? Well, at a newspaper certain jobs have to be done on certain days. PERIOD. End of story. The A section has to come out, one way or the other. Any other job, if so and so’s not there to do it, it can be put off. Not so here. Also, because we’re not a truly universal desk, certain employees only do certain jobs. Yeah, it’s convoluted and insane, and it’s truly a miracle that the damn paper makes it to press every night.

So, on top of all this stress and worry, you’ve got so-called experts and academics ringing the death knell for print journalism. Well, they said radio would be the death of print. Not so, in fact, radio ain’t doing so hot itself these days (THANKS CLEARCHANNEL!). Then when TV came, they were oh so sure that newspapers were on the way out. Yeah, well, TV news sucks and it’s been proven time and time again that it suck. The Internet is a trickier, but many many papers are adapting, and doing it well.

That, and what a lot of people forget is that most of the people in this country do not live in metropolitan areas. No, a vast majority of your countrymen reside in tiny little towns dotting landscape. Yes, I know, how awful. Anyway, many of these darling yokels rely on their local newspaper for what they need to know. Some don’t have computers or Internet access. *GASP* And in the case of a natural disaster (like Katrina) what good is the Internet, TV or radio going to do you? Newspapers do not require electricity to put out. Long before mechanical presses, people did it by hand. It can be done. However, it usually won’t come to that because a smart newspaper will work with a publication outside the disaster area to get the paper put together and printed.

I’m not sure how I feel about all this yet. This is my chosen profession and while some days I cannot stand it, overall I totally believe in our jobs as journalists. What sickens me is the treatment of the news like a commodity. I hate it when people refer to the paper or any of our other publications as a ‘product.’ Since when did the truth as we’re able to define it become a product?

I’m a terrible blogger. Really I am.

It’s been a crazy past couple of weeks and I don’t really have anything interesting to report. So, I shall retreat to my last refuge of writer’s block: MUSIC LIST!

The theme: Songs to sing when a love interest has pissed  you off! Without going in to detail about my situation, suffice it to say, I’m an unhappy penguin.

So, let’s begin!

‘You Make me Feel Like a Whore’ by Everclear: My love for Art knows no bounds. ‘Some day I’ll teach you to beg’ and ‘Take your word like it was gospel, I’m so eager to please, yeah I like it when you talk to me’ are so very relevant to my current situation. As well as the chorus, ‘You make me feel like a whore.’

‘Thnks Fr Th Mmrs’ by Fall Out Boy: So, it’s a little dramatic given my situation, but I’m a drama queen so deal with it. ‘One night and one more time, thanks for the memories, even though they weren’t so great, it tastes like you, only sweeter’ sticks with me because I’m going to remember that one thing for the rest of my life even though it’s kinda meh right now. I figure with age and time I’ll look back and cackle like hell. Oh, and I like to jump on my bed and sing this song into my cell phone antenna.

‘Irreplaceable’ by Beyonce: I really hate her, but I do think this song will be this generation’s ‘I Will Survive.’ ‘You must not know about me, I can have another you in a minute, matter of fact he’ll be here in a minute,’ should be part of every woman’s repertoire. I’m currently working up the cojones to add it to my own. And to dudes who might be reading this: ‘Don’t you ever for a second get to thinking, you’re irreplaceable.’

‘Dammit’ by Blink-182: This anthem has served me well since junior high. ‘A day late, a buck short, I’m writing the report, on losing and failing, when I move I’m flailing’ and ‘And it’s happen once again, I’ll turn to a friend, someone who understands and sees through the master plan, but everybody’s gone, and I’ve been here for too long, to face this on my own, well I guess this is growing up,’ are pretty much me in all my immature glory. It also makes me realize that relationships don’t actually change from what they were like at 14.

‘Say My Name’ by Destiny’s Child: ‘You acting kinda shady, ain’t calling me baby, why the sudden change’ and ‘First of all, let me say, that I am not the one to sit around and be played’. To which I say, PREACH.

‘Miserable’ by Lit: ‘You make me come, you make me complete, you make me completely miserable.’ Well, every part but the first two.

‘My Friends Over You’ by New Found Glory: I hoped I’d never have to dust this one off again, but here we are! ‘I’m drunk off your kiss, for another night in a row, this is becoming too routine for me, but I didn’t mean to lead you on’ and, my favorite, ‘You were everything I wanted, but I just can’t finish what I started, there’s no room left here on my back, it was damaged long ago, though you swear that you are true, I’d still pick my friends over you!’ make me smile a smile worthy of the Kool Aid man.

‘Roses’ by Outkast: Yeah, he’s singing about a girl named Caroline, but I’m creative! I’d put a sample lyric, but I can’t without laughing my ass off so, go here http://lyricwiki.org/OutKast:Roses

I made an effort to stay away from sad bastard music because I firmly believe this is nothing to be sad about. One of the splendid things about life is that it goes on, no matter how big, dumb or foolish your mistakes happen to be.

OK, so here begins the new blog. I’ve had several others, but those were mostly my borderline emo kid rants. This I want to have some intellectual if not full-on journalistic value. I also need to bone up on my writing skills.

So let’s start things off by discussing EMO KIDS!

First off, here’s a little background on what emo apparently means.

I think technically I might have been considered emo in high school. Everyone thought I was a Goth of course, and come to find out I could have also been considered Straight Edge. In all honesty, I just thought I was a nerd. I listened to all kinds of music, but most exclusively alternative rock and heavy metal. There was that totally embarrassing Nu Metal phase I went through, but that’s for another time. I was of course the saddest little high schooler ever, but to quoth the always amazing Davey Havok, ‘There’s no such thing as a happy teenager.’

Now look at kids these days. Being a depressed teenager has suddenly become en vogue. There were few current bands making music to satisfy our teenage ennui — especially after the Smashing Pumpkins broke up — so we mostly had to kick it old school. The Cure, Morrissey, Joy Division, etc. were in heavy rotation, and for the more aggressively depressed among us there was Marilyn Manson, Disturbed, etc. But now there are a ton of bands that cater specifically to high school malaise. Dashboard Confessional, Death Cab for Cutie, Hawthorne Heights, Avenged Sevenfold, the list goes on.

You’ll notice two big absences from that list. Even though My Chemical Romance and A.F.I. have indeed become huge idols amongst the hormonal and depressed, I feel that it’s quite by accident. Where as the aforementioned bands court the teens exclusively and have done so since their inceptions, MCR and A.F.I. simply followed their musical path which eventually led them to the misspent youth. It would be like calling the Smashing Pumpkins or the Cure teen-oriented bands. They’re not; some of their themes just happen to appeal to a certain subset of the younger crowd.

The Web has also played a huge role in bringing emo kids into mainstream culture. Now with MySpace, Facebook and YouTube, not only do kids have the means to take the minutia of their daily life to the masses, the masses also have the means to look, listen and respond. I see this as both a blessing and a curse.

It’s great that kids today know they’re not alone in what they’re going through. Let’s face it, when you’re different, your teen years can get really lonely. The fact that they’re able to form communities of like-minded souls is a wonderful thing. Also, it provides an outlet for some truly creative endeavors. Take Deviant Art for example. There are some beautiful graphic pieces on that site. While most livejournal poetry is crap, there is some genuinely good stuff to be found if you dig deep enough.

However, at the same time, there’s a general feeling that teens today are narcissistic. And before I go off sounding like a hypocrite (I have a blog, a MySpace page and a Facebook account), I want to say that I think there’s a difference between simply providing some details of your life as a catalyst for further communication (’You like This Property is Condemned? So do I!’) or practicing your otherwise thoroughly rusty writing skills and providing a detailed account of every little second between homeroom and lunch period. I also think things like MySpace have been taken too far. Take the Megan Meier case for example. It’s cases like hers that make me eternally grateful MySpace didn’t exist when I was teen.

All in all, I’m not sure how I feel about this newest batch of outsiders. The cutting thing freaks my shit right out, but then I also see kids forming supportive, loving communities. Then those communities sometimes become armies in the same clique-centric guerrilla warfare that’s been going for generations.

These kids aren’t doing anything all that different from what we did in high school. They’re just more visible.