Those Fascinating Mormon Women

Yesterday FoxyJ and I attended the Sunstone Symposium. We'd been to Sunstone Seattle before and this past year Foxy attended the California version, but this was our first time at the big one in Salt Lake. My primary reason for going was to meet people, and I wasn't disappointed--Foxy, Green Mormon Architect, and I had a delightful lunch with C.L. Hanson, and I also got to meet a couple of Zelophehad's Daughters, Kaimi from Times & Seasons, and feminist blogger Holly. (Some of you may know that Holly and I have an... interesting history, so it was nice to meet her in person, and to see that she's a complete human being and not just this ominous online presence I've interacted with occasionally over the past few years.) As an added bonus, I really enjoyed all the sessions I attended. Foxy and I caught the tail-end of a presentation on polygamy, and then I went to sessions on the Book of Mormon's 19th-century context, gay Mormon literature (with a comprehensive bibliography, if anyone's interested), two films about religion and sexuality, and finally a panel on feminist and/or Mormon perspectives of Stephanie Meyer's Twilight series.

The Twilight panel ended up being my favorite. I attended not because I've read the books or seen the movie--I haven't--but because my curiosity was piqued when I read my friend Theric's paper about the novels that he presented at Sunstone California, because I'd heard that panelist Maxine Hanks had an interesting take on the series, and because I was curious to hear what panelist Holly Welker had to say about the whole thing. I was not disappointed in any respect. The panel consisted of four feminist women and one man (who may or may not consider himself a feminist, I don't know) with very different takes on Meyer's works. This resulted in a very lively discussion and some great facial expressions from the panelists as they listened to their fellow panelists' differing opinions. All in all, the panel was an excellent reminder that feminism is not a single dogma but rather a wide range of perspectives and ways of interpreting the world.

Holly's portion of the panel is the one that has me up at 4am writing a blog post. She makes a very strong case against Twilight, pointing out with hilariously painful examples how the characters embody truly disturbing gender roles, and drawing comparisons between Meyer's works and Helen Andelin's handbook of submissive housewifery, Fascinating Womanhood. Holly's arguments about the series are based in pretty convincing examples, and they jibe with everything I've heard about the books, mostly from FoxyJ, who finds the character Bella utterly appalling. Maxine Hanks makes a compelling counterargument, that Meyer is portraying a wide range of gender roles and that Bella's powerlessness is just a step on the road to her empowerment, but not having read the books I can't say whether I agree with Maxine or Holly. But I will say that listening to Maxine's presentation is the only time I've ever seriously considered reading Twilight.

The place where Holly's presentation produced a disconnect for me was in her argument that Twilight is both a product of and representative of Mormon concepts of gender as a whole. The primary evidence she presents for this claim consists of (a) the fact that Meyer is a Mormon, (b) the fact that Helen Andelin is a Mormon and her book is popular among Mormons, and (c) the fact that Mormon women and girls love Twilight. This evidence doesn't cut it for me, though, because (a) Meyer is only one Mormon among millions; (b) Andelin is also only one Mormon and her book, though popular in the sixties, is mostly a joke now; and (c) um, hello, all kinds of women and girls (and men and boys) love Twilight. This is hardly a Mormon phenomenon.

I will acknowledge upfront that my experience with Mormondom is by necessity limited and my evidence anecdotal, but I doubt it's any more limited or anecdotal than Holly's--it just seems that we are each limited to very different anecdotes. But I have never known any Mormon woman or man under sixty who takes Fascinating Womanhood or the principles it teaches seriously. (Admittedly, I know one woman over sixty who said she found the book empowering in her own marriage, but in my experience she is definitely the exception.) I believe Holly would argue that whether or not the book is taken seriously, its hypertraditional gender roles are ingrained into Mormon consciousness; I would agree that to some degree and among some Mormons it certainly is, and to that extent I mourn along with Holly the damage such thinking does to women and men alike.

But here's where my limited experience comes in. For most of my adult life, my association with Mormons has been in college settings. This means that most of the Mormons I've known are educated, and though educated does not equal feminist, it definitely skews the population sample in that direction. For the past couple years since I stopped attending church, most of my interaction with Mormons is through FoxyJ, who tends to associate with women like those who can be found on Segullah, Exponent II, and Feminist Mormon Housewives. One of my closest friends is Melyngoch, a very feminist Mormon and sister to the above-mentioned Daughters of Zelophehad. Yesterday I had the pleasure of listening to several strong, intelligent, feminist Mormon women. Even my sisters, who are Mormon and I don't think would necessarily consider themselves feminists, are all strong, intelligent, empowered women. Those who are married have egalitarian relationships with their husbands and interact with them not through childish manipulation but through mature, two-way discussion. The one who's single is a successful, self-fulfilled woman. Among the hundreds of Mormons I know, I can think of only a handful who even remotely fit the mold of Fascinating Womanhood.

Holly argues--and I agree--that Fascinating Womanhood is really about fascinating girlhood, that it promotes the infantilization of women. If Twilight reflects this, it's because it's a girls' fantasy novel about a teenage girl. Girls like it because that's the point in life where they're at, and women enjoy it for the same reason grown men enjoy sports, video games, and comic books--it's a fantasy of immortal girlhood. I don't see that as evidence that these women (or at least the majority of them) actually buy into this depiction of gender as an ideal for adults to follow. This is escapist fiction; sometimes being a responsible adult gets old, and it's nice to fantasize about being swept away by a strong man so beautiful he sparkles, whether or not this would be a good idea in real life.

I wouldn't go so far as to say I completely disagree with Holly. Truly disturbing concepts of gender do exist within Mormon culture and doctrine--if nothing else, the fact that online classes teaching the principles of Fascinating Womanhood are still taught is evidence of this. But I don't think it's as widespread or pervasive as Holly suggests, and I believe that to make such sweeping claims is a great disservice to the multitude of Mormon women (and men) who have long since moved beyond girlhood.

(And if you happen to read this, Holly, I hope you'll take it in the spirit of open discussion in which it's intended, and respond with your thoughts. If I've misunderstood or misrepresented your argument, please say so.)


NOTE: Holly does make some clarifications in the comments section below, so be sure to read her comment before basing your judgment of her argument on my analysis alone.

Doing Yardwork Makes Me Feel Manly

And I say so with the assumption that were I a woman, doing yardwork would make me feel womanly. Female readers may confirm or deny.

It's Like Ten Thousand Spoons When All You Need is a Knife

Back when I was a faithful churchgoing person, my least favorite day of the year to go to church was Fathers' Day. Among other things, I've always been uncomfortable with the hypercodification of gender stereotypes that tends to go with talks about the importance of fathers.

So of course, now that I don't go to church anymore, one of the few days a year when I do go is Fathers' Day, because I figure if my daughter is singing (with the Primary) for me, I ought to be there to hear it. To be honest, the talks bother me less as I distance myself more from the church and become more comfortable in my own role as a parent and human being, but what really made it worth it today--apart from watching S-Boogie being adorable on stage--was the Snickers bar they gave to all the fathers at the end. If they gave out Snickers every week, I might consider reactivating myself.

(Note to my atheist friends: No doubt some faithful member of the church will now offer me a Snickers a week to attend church, so you should consider it your humanist duty to provide me with a counteroffer of, say, two Snickers a week not to go. Let the bidding begin.)

It's a Girl!*

*Gender based on Chinese gender chart and the personal preferences of the unborn child's parents. And c'mon, that line is definitely pink.

Judging by the Color of One's Skin

After the all-out flamewar that erupted from yesterday's highly-controversial post, I've been wondering the following: Do you suppose that as high a proportion of the (very few) female dinosaurs that (may or may not have) really existed had pink skin as their modern-day animated counterparts? Why or why not? Please keep your response to under 1000 words.

(Yes, I know Cassie is a dragon, but really, what's the difference?)

The REAL Reason Dinosaurs Went Extinct

I mean seriously, have YOU ever heard of a girl dinosaur?

Didn't think so.

Gender Confusion

My friend Dandypratt sent me a link to GenderAnalyzer, an automatic tool that guesses whether a given website is written by a man or a woman. It's 76% sure that I'm a man. Of course I went through and plugged in every blog I could think of. A couple interesting results:

• GenderAnalyzer is 64% sure that FoxyJ is a man. Wouldn't that make for an interesting twist in our story? Boy, we really fooled you all, didn't we?
  
• GenderAnalyzer is only 58% sure that Samantha Stevens is a woman, noting that she's fairly gender neutral--apparently Tolkien Boy needs to do a better job of impersonating a female.
  
• GenderAnalyzer is 98% sure that Theric is a woman. I know that Th. often posts comments using his wife's Blogger ID, but has Lady Steed secretly been writing her husband's blog all this time?

Apparently the trial run has proven the tool to be less accurate than anticipated; there's some speculation as to why here, as well as plans to try to improve the process. I'm curious to see if they're able to make this work accurately, or if it ends up being the case that there simply isn't that significant a difference between men's and women's writing.

Fishnets and Feminism

So apparently some Christian group is making a hullabaloo about the new Barbie version of the superhero Black Canary. Likely not even aware that this is a character that has been around for some sixty years, they see a Barbie in fishnets and shiny black leather and start crying, "S&M!" (Because, you know, all decent Christians know that the only reason anyone wears leather is to participate in kinky fetish orgies.)

I'm somewhat ambivalent about sexy superheroine costumes. My conservative upbringing lends itself easily to a brand of feminism that distrusts a primarily male-driven comic book industry where female characters on average wear half the clothes of their male counterparts, but at the same time I recognize other feminisms that consider a woman's ability to look sexy a valid expression of her power and independence (perhaps Chanson can correct me if I'm misrepresenting that view). And I also distrust conservative interest groups who protest when Barbie puts on fishnets but have no problem with the fact that the entire children's toy and entertainment industry--from Barbie to Disney to Tonka--does nothing but reinforce outdated gender roles that harm little girls far more than a doll in shiny leather could possibly do.

I like the perspective of Amanda Conner, the (female) artist who designed this particular version of Black Canary's costume, as represented in this interview. And I also know that if I were ever to buy my daughter a Barbie, I'd much rather get her a Black Canary or a Supergirl or Batgirl or Wonder Woman than any other Barbie who's just as unrealistically sexy but doesn't also have the ability to kick Ken's butt going for her--at least not quite so obviously.

My guess, though, is that we can all rest assured that the majority of people who buy these superheroine Barbies will not be seven-year-old girls. Rather, it will be the thirty-something fanboys who quickly realize the advantage of these over more traditional superhero action figures: with the Barbie version you can take Wonder Woman's clothes off.

Fascinating Manhood

Yesterday while my wife was at work and I was busy preparing a nice warm meal for her to come home to, the microwave stopped working. None of the buttons I pressed did a thing! Now, I know a lot of boys might panic at such a predicament, knowing how important it is to have dinner ready before their woman comes home. Some househusbands would go straight to the phone and call a repairwoman out to fix the microwave, thinking this is the best way to avoid adding any complication to their wife's already-stressful workday. I, however, know better. Where others see calamity, I saw opportunity--an opportunity to reaffirm my complete and utter dependence on my woman, and for her to reaffirm her womanliness.

When my wife got home from work I put on my best pouty face and said in a childlike whine, "Honey, I broke the microwave." I was sure to bat my eyelashes and look as cute as I could in my little apron when I said this.

My wife smiled and shook her head. "It's probably just the outlet, sweetie."

"If you say so," I said with hunched shoulders and an ever-so-slightly tilted head. "You know I don't understand those kinds of things--I'm just a boy."

She sighed. "I'm exhausted right now. I'll take a look at it tomorrow. Where's my dinner?"

I quickly dished up the broccoli cheese soup and the potatoes I'd baked in the oven, then stood by the table and watched my sweetcake enjoy the meal.

I was a little worried we'd have to buy a new microwave, as I know finances stress my honey out--I don't bother with such things myself, as I just have to ask for a blank check when I need something--but of course my silly concerns were unfounded. This morning while I was out running my little errands, my good wife fixed everything. Flipped the breaker or some such gobbledy-gook.

The important thing is that my wife knows I need her, and that's why she loves me. This Celestial Love is what makes our marriage so great!

Calling for an Overhaul of Boyhood

FoxyJ sent me another good article from the New York Times tonight. In the article, "Girls Will Be Girls," Peggy Orenstein discusses two recent books targeted at girls (and their moms) and reflects on what these books, together with a similar book targeted at boys, say about gender roles. She points out that the girls' books emphasize the fact that girls can have the best of both worlds--"to be able to paint their nails and break them too"--while boys seem to be stuck in conceptions of masculinity forged at least a century ago and reinforced most recently by The Dangerous Book for Boys.

Whether girlie or girlist, girls, because they’re allowed more latitude in their identities, can still be girls: Boys, on the other hand, must be boys — unless no one is watching. In another study of younger children, Cherney and London found that if ushered alone into a room and told they could play with anything, nearly half the boys chose “feminine” toys as often as “masculine” ones, provided they believed nobody, especially their fathers, would find out. That made me question whether any more expansive vision of girlhood can survive without a similar overhaul of boyhood, which, apparently, is not in the offing. Learning to “create an amazing dance routine” (as suggested by [The Girls’ Book: How to Be the Best at Everything]) is still far more Dangerous for boys than, as their own volume suggests, learning to juggle.

While I believe it's hugely important to teach my daughter a healthy sense of her own identity as a girl, the most important thing I can do to ensure she lives in a world where those ideals I teach her match up with reality is to teach my son a healthy sense of his identity as a boy. And "healthy" in the latter case has no more to do with trucks, guns, and football than it does with lipstick, dolls, and cookbooks in the former. Or rather, a healthy identity for girls and boys potentially incorporates all of those things--except guns, which are evil tools of Satan no matter your gender.

Batgirl the Activist

From a 1974 (?) U.S. Department of Labor Wage & Hour Division public service message:

The Division of Labor

My friend Scot recently responded to my allegations that, like a good old-fashioned patriarch, he unfairly benefits from the domestic labor of his husband; he did so by making a list of the household chores for which he and his husband are each responsible. That, together with a post on MoHoHawaii's blog, has got me thinking about how Foxy and I divide the labor. Here's my version, but, considering that most of these things we haven't actually put in writing or even discussed, her interpretation may well differ:

Mr. Fob's Jobs

• Part-time winner of bread (though full-time for a year after the birth of each child; future status to be determined)
• Preparer of breakfast for children--because Foxy's not a morning person
• Primary caregiver while Foxy is at school, work, or otherwise occupied (currently about twenty to twenty-five hours a week)
• Preparer of dinner on nights when Foxy is gone (currently four nights a week)
  
• Part-time dishwasher
• Primary bedtime story reader
• Primary bath giver
• Payer of housing and utility bills--a role we shared in the past but I have taken over completely since we established separate bank accounts last year

FoxyJ's Jobs

• Part-time winner of bread (with a one-year break after the birth of each child; future status to be determined)
• Chief meal planner and preparer--because she likes to cook
• Primary caregiver while Mr. Fob is at school, work, or otherwise occupied (currently about twenty-five to thirty hours a week)
• Part-time dishwasher
• Primary naptime story reader
• Buyer of groceries
• Planner of vacations
• Scheduler of doctor's (and other such) appointments
• Primary laundry doer
• Knower of all things

Careful inspection of these two lists will reveal that there are some hundred or so hours of the week in which neither of us is the primary caregiver. This is not because we share the giving of care when we are both home; rather, our children are given no care when we are both home. Typically, one of us sits on the couch reading a book while the other sits at the computer, each of us hoping the other will do something about that screaming child. It's a game of Chicken, basically: which of us will be overwhelmed by the screaming and give in to the child's demands first?

There are a lot of jobs that we share fairly equally: doing the dishes, taking out the trash, cleaning the house. Foxy may contest that she does a greater share of the latter; I concede only that she more often notices that something needs to be cleaned, and then it is just a question of whether I will get off my butt and clean it before she gets tired of waiting and does it herself.

I would like to think that we divide the labor fairly evenly because that is how I think it should be, but truthfully I have to admit that Foxy does more than her share. I would also like to think that this inequality is based solely on our differing personalities, but when the imbalance in our roles lines up so closely with imbalanced male-female relationships going back hundreds of years, it's hard not to recognize that to some extent we have allowed ourselves to fall into stereotypical gender roles. Some (people related to me, mostly) have argued that I do more than most husbands, but really I don't take much satisfaction in knowing that I do well when measured against a crappy standard known for its unfairness to women (and honestly I think I'm more or less on par with other husbands of my generation). I wish at least one sentence in this paragraph were not made of two clauses conjoined by a "but," but alas it isn't going to happen.

Moral of the story: I'll forever be in Foxy's debt, but that's no excuse to stop trying to catch up.

Scot posits that it "may be kind of different how labor becomes divided in a home with two men or two women," and that he and his husband "split it up by who’s good at what." I'd say this is a good way for anyone to do it. I'm curious to know how other couples, gay and straight, divide the labor, so I'm now officially making this post a meme. If you are in a cohabiting relationship of any sort, consider yourself tagged. How do you and your significant other split up the tasks of life?

Curiously

Do you suppose people refer to "Hillary" while in the same breath referring to "Obama," "Giuliani," and "Romney" because she's a woman or simply to distinguish her from another well-known "Clinton"? Granted, I've seen a lot of references to "Mitt," but usually in a derogative sense, and I've seen very few references to "Barack" or "Rudy." What do you think?

Why I [heart] Dora

I was first exposed to Dora the Explorer when my niece was about three and in love with her. FoxyJ and I were new parents at the time and therefore even more self-righteous about parenting than we are now, so of course it appalled us that parents would ever let their children lay an eye on a television screen. Add to that the fact that Dora talks loudly in a sort of annoying voice and the plot of each episode is about as formulaic as you can get, and you get a rather disgusted Mr. Fob.

Fast-forward a couple years and now you have a Mr. Fob and FoxyJ who, through the course of parenting a real life child, have been forced to lower our standards a bit (but don't worry; we still sneer appropriately at those parents whose standards are even lower). We've learned that it is good for the sanity of the parents for the child to absorb the soporific radiation of the television god for an hour or two a day, and it so happens that S-Boogie's drug of choice is Dora the Explorer. And you know what? It's precisely that formulaic plot and loud, annoying voice that make the show appeal to kids her age. Duh, they're kids. I would feel worse about so willfully not recognizing this earlier if not for the fact that, if I'm to believe the end credits on each episode, it took about thirty people with PhDs to figure it out.

Apart from the fact that Dora does an excellent job of exposing children to Hispanic culture and the Spanish language in a very natural way, I love her because she is a strong, relatively gender-neutral female character. There's an interesting conversation happening on a blog I read about gender in children's toys. It seems most toys marketed to boys are relatively gender-neutral, made in simple primary colors with few frills, while toys marketed to girls are all pink and sparkly. The message most girl toys seem to send is that you can aspire to be either a princess, waiting for your Prince Charming to come rescue you, or a teenage sexbot.

Dora, on the other hand, is a little girl who has adventures exploring the world, presumably inspired by her mother, an archaeologist. Even the episode "Dora's Fairytale Adventure," which is an obvious sellout to the Disney princess phenomenon, has Dora complete certain tasks in order to become a princess, which she does in order to save her friend Boots the Monkey. In this loose retelling of Sleeping Beauty, the male monkey is the passive "damsel in distress" and the girl is the active "knight in shining armor."

Telling of Dora's success in avoiding gender stereotypes is the fact that boys like her as much as girls do. Now, the existence of the spinoff show about Dora's cousin, Diego, says that marketers did see the need to create a boy character to appeal to boys, but within my social circle at least I know of several little boys who are as obsessed with Dora as S-Boogie is.

And the little boys who think Dora is a "girl show" obviously have parents who are not as stellar in teaching egalitarianism as FoxyJ and I are. Thank goodness for parents like us.

One Thing (For Now)

A clarification, because I don't like to be misunderstood:

A large part of Holly Welker's argument against "Getting Out" rests on this paragraph:

I don’t understand people who call themselves liberal and progressive but are threatened by homosexual reparative therapy enough to try to stop people like me from having that option. In my mind, this kind of thinking is anti-progressive. The whole point of the civil rights and women’s liberation movements was to allow blacks, women, and other minorities to break free from what had been their traditional roles. We live in a world now where it’s okay for blacks to do what was once considered “white” and for women to do what was once considered “male”—get an education, have a career, etc. Why then is it not politically correct for a gay man to venture into what is usually considered the exclusive territory of straight men—to marry a woman and have a family—if that’s what he chooses to do?

Apart from her accurate criticism of my painting the women's liberation and civil rights movements in such broad strokes, her objection, if I understand correctly, is that I seem to be co-opting these movements for my own purposes, essentially equating my position as a married gay man to that of women and black Americans. I can see how it may appear that way superficially, and if you interpret it thus it is certainly offensive. As Welker has pointed out several times, there is absolutely no legislation against gay people marrying heterosexually, no institutionalized bigotry as there has been and continues to be against women and racial minorities. I would have to be a complete moron and self-serving jerk to claim that I've experienced anything comparable to this kind of oppression.

If you read what I've said carefully, though, you'll see that I haven't made any such claim. What I've said is that it's contrary to progressive thought--for which I list as examples the progressive thinking behind the women's liberation and civil rights movements--to say that anyone--using myself as an example--should not be respected in their choice to marry any person who wants to marry them. I've not said that anyone is denying me that right, because no one is*, but that my choice is not considered "politically correct." This is demonstrated by the fact that Welker and others like her immediately jump to the conclusion that any gay man who dares to express his right to marry a woman who wants to marry him must be a backwards-thinking conservative hick. Would they accuse a woman expressing her right to marry another woman of having an overblown sense of entitlement? No; Welker has said as much. Why then the double standard? Why are some choices more politically correct than others?

A commenter on Welker's blog says that she is "astonished by the backwards reasoning of that paragraph you deconstructed, particularly the idea that having a woman to reproduce with and run your household for you has historically/traditionally been denied to men who are attracted to other men." I would be equally astonished by the backwards reasoning of such an idea, had I read an essay that made such a claim. What I actually say in the paragraph above is that "to marry a woman and have a family" [notice I've said nothing about who is running the household] "is usually considered the exclusive territory of straight men." There is a huge difference between the phrases "is usually" and "has historically/traditionally." The latter, hers, makes claims about historical reality, while the former, mine, speaks only of present social attitudes. No, gay people have not traditionally been denied heterosexual marriage, because traditionally gay people haven't been a part of public discourse. Notice also that I use the word "straight," which is not necessarily the opposite of "men who are attracted to other men"; I'm speaking not of sexual preferences that have existed for thousands of years but of sexual identities that have existed for less than two hundred. I would argue that yes, in the past fifty years or so since lesbians and gay men have legitimately entered the discourse, the assumption is that their rightful position--at least as far as progressive thought is concerned--is in lesbian and gay relationships. As I point out elsewhere in the essay, gay people in heterosexual relationships are "not even recognized enough to be repressed."

So if I'm not being oppressed, why then does it matter that some people, in the name of progressive thought, are so critical of mixed-orientation marriages? If there's no legislation against me, why am I complaining? Because bigoted legislation doesn't magically appear out of nowhere; it is borne of widely-accepted bigoted discourse. Twenty-six states haven't adopted constitutional amendments banning same-sex marriage just because. They've done so because the majority of voters in those states believe the bigoted rhetoric against homosexuality that is so prevalent in our culture. Welker rightly criticizes my oversimplified statement that "We live in a world now where it's okay for blacks to do what was once considered 'white' and for women to do what was once considered 'male.'" No, as much as I would like to think so, we don't live in that world. I would like to live in a world, though, where no one's choices are limited by their gender, race, or sexual orientation, and I believe that world can only exist once we start respecting those who make choices different from our own, even choices we don't understand.

I am thankful for the many, many people--whether or not they would call themselves liberal and progressive--who have respected me in the choices I've made. I will do my best to return the same.


*Except for the campaigns against homosexual reparative therapy that I reference in the paragraph preceding the one quoted here, which I'll freely admit is an entirely different argument than the right to marry. I'll also freely admit that my conflating the two arguments in the paragraph above is confusing. On the other hand, they do both come down to respecting the right of mentally capable adults to make the decisions that they deem best for themselves. The only difference is that in the case of reparative therapy we're talking about a single person--the one who seeks out reparative therapy--while in the case of marriage we're talking about two people--the two spouses who, as consenting adults regardless of their gender and/or sexual orientation, decide to marry each other.

Weekly Confession #1

Forgive me, Blogger, for I have sinned. This is my first Confession.

I covet my wife's intelligence and worse, I am proud of it. FoxyJ is one of the most well-read and well-educated people I know, both in the sense of formal education and that of informal education, in the form of the wide array of facts she can recall from the thousands of books, newspapers, and websites she's read in her lifetime. When I need to know something about history, literature, politics, or whatever, I ask Foxy, my personal living Wikipedia (except with less web vandalism). I am truly grateful to live with such an intelligent person, not only for the education in trivia she provides regularly, but for the inspiration she gives me to learn more about the world. I have to admit, though, that I am not infrequently jealous of Foxy's intelligence. Why am I unable to recall every random fact I've ever come across? Why can't I glance at a page and process in an instant every word on it? Why don't I have the interest in the first place to read the New York Times on a daily basis and devour nonfiction books about war, food, and famous people? The downside of living with such an educated person is that I feel, in comparison, very uneducated.

The greater sin, I believe, is the pride I feel in regards to my wife's education. I brag about her master's degree every chance I get, find ways to work into conversations the fact that she passed the test to be included in Jeopardy's contestant pool. I am proud of my own high score on the GRE, but even prouder of her perfect score on the verbal section. This may all seem innocent enough, perhaps you're even thinking that it is forward-thinking and decidedly unsexist for a man to be so proud of his wife's intellect, but that's exactly the point. I flaunt my wife's education precisely because I believe it makes me look good. Ultimately, this is no better than the man who shows off his trophy wife, the perfectly pretty woman who exists solely as a symbol of his own social status.

As my penitence, Blogger, I vow to show my appreciation for Foxy's other positive qualities, whether such appreciation makes me look like the feminist-minded man I want to be or not. I am somewhat embarrassed to admit, for example, how much I appreciate the delicious food Foxy cooks every day, because I fear that puts me in the category of chauvinistic men who expect their wives to be barefoot in the kitchen, preparing nice meals for their husbands to enjoy upon returning home from work. The fact of the matter is, though, FoxyJ is a chef extraordinaire, and that is a talent she values in herself, so I should not be ashamed to admit that I do too.

I am sorry for these and for all--well, most--the sins of my past life.

Angry No More

I have been rather tense over the last few days since FoxyJ saw Holly Welker's (I'm not feeling the need to 'nym her tonight) name on the table of contents of the latest issue of Sunstone. I was imagining the horrible things Holly (I consider us to be on a first-name basis because she only uses her first name on her blog, which is where I first met her) might have said about me, writing a letter to the editors in my head, brushing up on laws pertaining to libel. I was prepared for the worst--if you can call feeling sick to my stomach "prepared."

(BTW, Foxy got a free copy of the issue because there is a very cute picture of her in graduate garb, holding S-Boogie, on the back cover.)

So now I've read the essay and my hands have stopped trembling. As it turns out, the essay is well-written and really quite interesting. Holly argues in favor of same-sex marriage, but she reframes it not as a gay rights issue but a womens' issue. I like this new perspective on a topic that has long been important to me--the LDS Church's campaign against same-sex marriage during the elections of 2004 was in fact one of my first major points of departure with the Church--and I think Holly states her case eloquently. I particularly enjoy the points in the essay when she reminds her readers (and perhaps herself, as most of the essay focuses on gay men) that gay does not exclusively refer to men. All too often in discourse about homosexuality, whether in religious or legal contexts, lesbians are all but ignored. More than anything, Holly's essay in this latest issue of Sunstone has reminded me of something I managed to recognize last year (though I only now realize that in the post linked here I referred to her as "Molly Welker"), even in the midst of her attacks on my character--behind all the vitriol and misandry, she's really a very talented writer.

The real question here, at least as far as Mr. Fob the Narcissist is concerned, is: Does Holly make me look bad? The answer: Yeah, probably. But she doesn't do it at the expense of her point, and she doesn't say anything untrue about me. She interprets several things I said--both in "Getting Out" and on her blog--differently than I intended them, but as strictly textual interpretations they're perfectly valid.

That said, I don't feel bad about my angry post from the other night. Not in the slightest. In the context of her vehemence, my reaction was more than justified and even polite in comparison, as a handful of impartial observers have assured me. Holly is a talented writer and she is perfectly capable of critiquing my writing without attacking my character, as she has shown in this latest essay. Had she done so on her blog, I would not have been so "flummoxed and outraged," as she pretty accurately sums up how I felt upon finding her blog last year. It's not just a matter of not hurting people's feelings, either; the causes Holly fights for are good ones, and she'll gain much more ground by presenting herself as the intelligent, articulate woman she is rather than as a babbling man-hater.

Proof I Might Really Be a Misogynist After All

I cannot, for the life of me, button FoxyJ's backwards-buttoning shirts. I ended up leaving them unbuttoned on the hanger.

Return of the Angry Feminist

Next weekend is my birthday. It will also be another anniversary--one year since the morning I was bored at work, Googling myself, and came across the Angry Feminist, who had blogged a couple times in response to my essays in Dialogue and once in response to mine and FoxyJ's appearance in the Salt Lake Tribune. The gist of her blog posts was that I am a misogynist because I dared to marry a woman and that Foxy is a stupid brainwashed cow because she married a gay man. I had come across quite a few tactless comments about us on the internet before then, but these attacks by the Angry Feminist were colder, more thought out, and more personal than any of the others. This was clearly a woman who had issues with me, and I'd never even heard of her. I commented on her blog in my defense, and it all went downhill from there.

I would feel bad about caricaturing this woman with an offhand blogonym like "the Angry Feminist," but truthfully she fell into the realm of self-parody when she started using stock phrases from her 1963 edition of The Angry Feminist Handbook like "male defender of patriarchy." That and, believe me, there are much worse things I could call her (and believe me, I do).

I spent much of the months following my discovery of her attacks and our ensuing comment war trying to figure out why I was so bothered by this random stranger's critique of me. Seriously, even now, a year later, my hands get shaky just thinking about it.

Tolkien Boy suggested at one point that perhaps I reacted so violently because somewhere deep inside me I believed her accusations. Was it possible that I believed I really was a misogynist? It would make for a nice, tidy explanation, but the more I thought about it the more I knew it wasn't true. My parents divorced when I was four and my brother went to live with my father when I was nine, leaving me with my mom and various combinations of my five older sisters, so I was basically raised by women. I have long believed in feminist ideals of equality and subversion of the status quo--though admittedly not so much in feminist ideals of Men Are Evil Scumbags and Should Be Subjugated To Make Up For Centuries of [their ancestors'] Male Aggression, but then most feminists nowadays are more rational than that. I wouldn't call myself a literary feminist because I haven't researched the theories beyond the representative excerpts found in the textbooks read by the average English major, but when push comes to shove I have always identified with--and defended--the feminine experience more than the masculine. It comes with the territory of being a gay man in what is still largely (and unfortunately) a straight man's world.

I concluded eventually that what threatened me about the Angry Feminist's accusations was that what she called misogyny I saw as narcissism. Yes, to be honest, I do all too often think of my needs before I think of Foxy's; but it has nothing to do with the fact that she's a woman and everything to do with the fact that she's not me. And I really don't like that about myself, so I'm not crazy about being called on it.

And then there's the fact that many of the Angry Feminist's arguments were so inherently illogical, which drove me crazy. She accused me, for example, of invoking the name of feminism in my essays without first doing my research. But see, the only thing I mentioned--and briefly, at that--was "women's liberation movements," which Angry Feminist snarkily pointed out to me is not the same as feminism, as if I were the one to equate the two. And then she had the gall to make all sorts of wacky accusations about me based on assumptions she was pulling out of her butt, rather than doing her own research. I mean, we're talking about really basic stuff here, facts I even mentioned to her, like that I was no longer Mormon, and yet she persisted in saying that I was benefiting from the patriarchal system of the Mormon priesthood and making bad jokes about me getting my temple garments all twisted in a knot. Or her equally bad joke about me living in Orem in order to be around closed-minded people like myself, when a cursory glance at my blog (which was linked from every comment I made on her blog, and sported a picture of Seattle's skyline at the time, in addition to the location prominently displayed under my name) would have told her otherwise. How dare you accuse me of not doing my research, you lazy snob?

What really bugged me, though, and it bothers me that it's taken me nearly a year to consciously recognize this, is that on top of her attacks on my character, she was attacking one of the most important people to me and attempting to strip her of what makes her who she is. Suggesting that only a stupid cow brainwashed by religion would marry a gay man is not only incredibly insulting (and, by the way, misogynistic), it's simply untrue. Foxy has a master's degree in Spanish and is currently applying to (and will probably be accepted by) PhD programs at Oregon, Davis, and Berkeley. She presents papers at feminist conferences on women's literature. She's brought to light, through her translation work, obscure Renaissance women's writings. Sure, Angry Feminist, if you bothered to learn any of this you could claim that these are all superficial signs of intelligence, that any idiot can get a degree. If that's the case, though, I'm afraid you've lost the only proof of your intelligence, as it sure doesn't show in your rational thinking skills.

So at any rate, I wasn't too happy this afternoon when FoxyJ told me that the latest issue of Sunstone Magazine has an article written by the Angry Feminist and which appears to be an adaptation of her presentation at last year's Sunstone Symposium, which by the way was dedicated to insulting me and Foxy. We'll find out when we get our copy, but I'm hoping that someone on the editorial board at Sunstone had the class to say, "Hey, Ms. Feminist, you've got some interesting ideas here, but slander really isn't in our mission statement, so could you maybe cut back on the haterism? Because honestly, redirecting the anger you have toward your gay ex-fiance at some other guy, then dressing it up in the rhetoric of literary feminism, does not equal scholarship. And it's not very empowering to women."

We can only hope. If that's not the case, you'll hear more from me--and FoxyJ, who has been publicly silent about this all so far, but is just as pissed off as I am.

First Day of Class

Today was the first day of the antepenultimate semester ever, of my life. I'm only taking one library science class this semester, and we don't meet until next week. It's a class on metadata, which intrigues me because metadata is cool and cutting edge, and it excites me because I know it'll be good for my career, but it scares me because I honestly don't have more than a very shallow idea of what it's all about.

Today I had a European studies class on migration and citizenship, which was cool because the students are from all kinds of majors and backgrounds, but also kind of intimidating because those majors are all things like geography and political science and international studies, which I think are cool, but I also know nothing about. I think I'll enjoy the class as long as I don't say something that betrays my ignorance in a horribly embarrassing fashion.

I expected my other class today to be an equally mixed-feeling experience, but in fact I loved it. It's a class on Spanish Golden Age drama, which is something I studied a little while at BYU and is one of FoxyJ's many specialties. I was worried about taking a class in Spanish when it's been almost three years since my last one, and I honestly don't speak Spanish very often anymore. As it turns out, though, I felt quite comfortable jumping back into Spanish literature--almost embarrassingly so, actually, as two or three other students and I pretty much dominated the discussion. (As a side note, I'm bothered by the knowledge that male students are called on by teachers twice as much as female students because just about every class I've ever taken has had twice as many women as men but it's always always always the guys who do all the talking. I'm bothered by this not only because of the cultural values it points to but because it makes me feel like I should talk less, but then I feel awkward because the professor is sitting there waiting for someone to say something and I have something to say, so I do, and then I feel guilty because I'm one of the four guys in the class who are dominating the discussion while the women keep their thoughts to themselves. Sigh...) At any rate, I felt confident and I had fun talking about literature, which is one of my favorite things to do.

Oh, and by the way, there's a reason BYU's Spanish program is considered one of the best in the nation and UW's isn't, but that doesn't prevent me from enjoying a few Spanish classes while I'm in the Library and Information Science program here, which does have a pretty good reputation.