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Senator Kennedy and the Freedom of Access to Clinic Entrances Act

Last night, Senator Ted Kennedy passed away at the age of 77, after 47 years of serving his country in the United States Senate.

As we currently still face the threat of harrassment and violence at women’s health clinics from the likes of Randall Terry and Operation Rescue, let’s remember the work of Senator Kennedy to pass the Freedom of Access to Clinic Entrances Act, which made it a federal crime to use force, the threat of force, or physical obstruction to prevent individuals from obtaining or providing reproductive health care services.

While we are nowhere near where we should be in terms of protecting women and employees of these clinics, lets all be grateful for the work of Sen. Kennedy to at least bring their safety one step further in America.

Here is the text of Sen. Kennedy’s speech on the Senate floor in 1993:

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Shall we tint our Twitter avatars? No? Carry on…

As many of you are no doubt aware, Manuel Zelaya, the democratically elected president of Honduras, was ousted in an illegal military coup last June.   Obama originally issued a condemnation of the army, who stormed the presidential palace and removed and forcibly deported Zelaya while he was still in his pajamas.

Obama’s extremely reasonable response was nice, at least compared to Bush’s endorsement of  (and connections to) the short-lived 2002 illegal removal of democratically elected leftist president Hugo Chavez in Venezuela.  Zelaya and Chavez are political allies.   The US has a long history of undermining and actively supporting the overthrow of leftish governments in Latin America (This isn’t the greatest or most comprehensive overview, but it’s a start.)  So I was really disappointed when Obama backed down from having a position beyond that this is None of Our Business:

“The same critics who say that the United States has not intervened enough in Honduras are the same people who say that we’re always intervening and the Yankees need to get out of Latin America. You can’t have it both ways…”

Because funding mass murders and installing puppet dictators is really equatable with supporting actual democratic process and providing humanitarian aid.

Amnesty International recently released a report warning of a post-coup humanitarian crisis in Honduras.  Mass demonstrations have been underway, met with arbitrary arrests and brutality.  Calls for aid have been largely ignored, at least here in the US.

I would be especially, especially interested to hear from Feministe readers in other parts of the world.  How is the media covering the coup?  How is your government and population responding?  Here, it’s not even a story anymore.

Hey, remember the worldwide Twitterevolution after the elections in Iran? People in the US were all over that.  I saw so many tweets from people who had turned their avatars green praising the brave souls in the streets of Tehran.  Hell, I made my avatar green.  I changed my location to Tehran.  I had my doubts about what all this did for the courageous in the streets, but if in any tiny way it showed support, I wanted to show support.

But the whole thing left a gross taste in my mouth.  Much as I supported the people of Iran fighting for their rights to self-determination, over here in the US all the support felt like it was coming less from the grassroots up than from the government/corporate media power structure on down.  It is in the interest of US foreign policy to undermine Ahmadinejad however possible.  The feel good story of normal people like you and me banding together across the globe via Twitter, the little company that could, to Twitterize the popular revolution?  PR gold.
Earlier this summer the US Congress even passed a resolution condemning the re-election of Mahmoud Ahmadinejad and the crackdown on peaceful protestors. One thing that bugged me then was the complete hypocrisy of the US government, which has in recent history shown no such love or respect for demonstrators on their own soil, including those specifically demanding free and fair elections.  I don’t want to equate the bloody repression of protesters in Iran to that facing  those in the US protesting the 2000 and 2004 stolen elections or anything, but the US government hardly has a history of glorifying their own citizens when they fight for democracy at home, let alone any consistent support for those fighting for their rights across the globe. It is clear that all the love the US government feels for Iranian protesters is primarily motivated by political opportunism.

This is not to in anyway undermine the demonstrators in Iran, who have my love and support.  But it is to point out that I think Honduran demonstrators are equally deserving.  And there are obvious reasons why they’re not getting it.

Randall Terry’s pathetic road show

Domestic terrorist Randall Terry, who has warned of “random acts of violence” and violent “reprisals against those deemed guilty” if healthcare reform is passed, is currently on a 10-city freakshow tour of the south.

terry1Yesterday, the freakshow went to Louisville, KY, where Terry performed a “skit” with two “actors”. Dressed as a doctor (after stabbing a baby doll), he stabbed someone playing an old women in the neck, with a sign behind him reading “Obama death-care. One dead patient at a time.” He then shook the hand of a white guy in an Obama mask over the woman on the ground.

Oh, and the politician’s office that was the target of this “protest”? Mitch McConnell, he of the 100% rating from the National Right to Life Committee over the last 10 years. Because? He hasn’t opposed Obama’s health care plan enough. Mitch McConnell hasn’t.

This is true, unbridled insanity.

Though no one attended his idiotic display besides two journalists in Louisville, a 13 and 14-year old who witnessed Terry in Nashville had this to say:

“I think this is a disgrace,” said 13-year-old Jontrez London of Nashville. “Obama’s trying to save people. He ain’t gonna try to kill an old lady.”

Another baby doll went flying and 14-year-old Malcolm Wells shook his head and sighed.

“These are adults acting like children,” he said.

Not children. These are psychopathic violent people, who have every intention to act on it, if given the opportunity. And if the Justice Department lets their guard down, Dr. Tiller’s tragedy can happen again.

With Dr. Leroy Carhart’s federal Marshall protection recently withdrawn, Operation Rescue is now set to descend on his clinic in Nebraska this weekend to “keep it closed”, referring to Carhart’s intention to re-open Tiller’s clinic in Kansas.

If you live in Kansas and Nebraska, the local NOWs are organizing massive counter-demonstrations for the entire weekend, which you can find out about at the links above.

But in all seriousness, this should not be the job of private citizens to defend doctors and patients from potential terrorists. Call Attorney Gen. Holder (202-353-1555) and demand that the Justice Department return federal Marshall protection for Dr. Carhart, immediately.

(crossposted from Amplify)

I’m a Death Panel

Ever wondered what, exactly, happens in those conversations that Sarah Palin is so determined to prevent? What is a Death Panel, after all? Now your questions can be answered from someone who has actually done the deed.

Or at least I assume I have, since as far as I can tell the whole “death panel” idea came from a provision in the health care bill that would have allowed clinicians to get paid once every five years if we spent time counseling patients about end-of-life care.

Uh-oh. “Counseling patients” must mean “euthanasia”.

Or maybe not.

The best time to talk to people about the end of life is before the end of life. Good primary care docs will ask all their patients, at some point, what their wishes are. My conversations with patients went something like this:

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Hello Hello!

Hi!  I am thrilled to be blogging here at Feministe for the next two weeks.  I’m honored and grateful to have this platform from which to communicate with such a large and engaged audience.  I hope at least some of you will find my posts interesting, and that we’ll have some constructive conversation.

A little about me:  I’m a white cisgendered, able-bodied, bi/queer woman in a long term, very happy relationship with a white cis man.  The massive wave of general societal approval that greeted this relationship has been kind of disorienting for me, having never been in such a situation before.  The privileges that come with my heterocoupledom are something I think about a lot.

I live in Brooklyn and work as a freelance writer, but the vast majority of my income comes from a combination of childcare and phone sex.  I have done the latter professionally off and on (mostly on, often full time,) for close to a decade.  No, I don’t do the two things at the same time.  The connections between sex work and domestic work are also something I think about a lot, particularly the ways that workers in both industries are marginalized and the obstacles they face in agitating and organizing for their rights.

I’m a sometimes activist.  I’m Jewish, and a lot of the activism I do involves opposing the Israeli occupation of Palestine, so I’ll probably address that as well.

I have a blog called Pretending is a fun game.

Some of my interests are: eating, cooking, making videos, film, music,  sleeping in, making things look interesting, music, pop culture criticism, gory movies, semi-masochistic enjoyment of musicals, critical examination of Joss Whedon’s oeuvre, fighting the pathologizing of oppressed peoples, analyzing capitalism and other irrational oppressive belief systems, maybe smashing the state, ducks, robot ducks…

I’m guessing that my comment policy will be pretty close to the way things are generally handled on Feministe.  Please understand that my work schedule is such that I often am away from my computer all day, so if your comment is in moderation limbo for a while, I apologize in advance.  I will get to it when I can.

For Blue Eyes: Pecola Breedlove Lives

blue eyes

If a Black girl is very lucky she is born into a family that will cherish her.  She will be told repeatedly that she is beautiful, even that she is a princess.  Those first years are very important in building a solid self-esteem.  They will be needed to help deal with the stressful years ahead, when she will be told repeatedly that she is different, run of the mill, loud, rude, abrasive and even ugly. In the years ahead, she will meet Whiteness head on and the specter of Pecola Breedlove will visit her, in her quiet moments.

If she happens to be dark skinned, the Blackest of Black, those around her might ridicule her, having internalized the blue-eyed standard of beauty.  She will note how those with the lighter skin get more attention, are called beautiful, and are held up as the epitome of Black female beauty. She will watch as they toss their long, straight hair over their shoulders and wonder how her short nappy locks seem so unloved, no matter how painstakingly styled.

She will jump rope, play hopscotch, and even tag, but she dare not disagree with her playmates because she has already learned that her color will make her the aggressor, no matter her action.   Don’t scream like the other little girls and never raise your voice in anger. When she is alone and looks into a mirror, she will wonder what it is about her that makes her so different.  She does everything that the other little girls do in an effort to fit in but somehow this barrier, one that is not of her own making, refuses to give way.

In an effort to bridge the gap, she will explain her hair care rituals on command.  She will speak of washing it once a week and then having it oiled and styled, only to be called dirty because the White girls wash their hair daily.  They will turn their noses at the mere mention of hair oil, yet to her it is one of the most tender moments of the week.  It is the time when she has 100% of her mother’s attention.  It is the time when they may discuss everything and anything.  How can this ritual be bad, when it often feels so comforting?

She will struggle to find something about herself to love.  Her nose is far too broad and not like the other girls. Her lips are too full and she bites them desperately, wishing that they would deflate.  In the quiet moments she will remember her parents telling her that she is beautiful and that she is smart, but the Breedlove curse hangs heavy and hard.

She will point out Black superstars to her friends, believing that she will find validation in their fame.  “Hey guys”, she’ll announce, “have you heard that new song by Tracy Chapman, ‘Fast Car’ — isn’t she  just great?”  “The song is okay,” they will answer, “but Tracy is kind of ugly.”  Dejected, she will retreat into a corner, thinking once again about the blue-eyed promise.

Her teenage years approach and boys and men begin to display desire for her.  She is unprepared for their advances.  At first she loves her burgeoning womanly form.  Her body is curvaceous and her breasts full.  Finally, she thinks, people think I am beautiful… until she learns that it is not that men find her beautiful, but that they have come to claim her.  A Black woman’s body does not belong to her.  It is assumed to be for the sexual satisfaction of men and they could care little about her thoughts and desires.  They only want what she has between her legs.

Wherever she goes, Pecola is her constant shadow.  Will she learn to love her Blackness despite the fact that world around her has told her that she has no value? Will she succumb, like Pecola, to feelings of insanity and find herself wishing desperately for blue eyes in the false belief that they will make the world think that she is beautiful and therefore worthy? If she had blue eyes, would  people see her for who she really is?   Her journey is not unique and yet in the quiet moments when Pecola whispers, playing the strong Black woman seems too much of a burden.  The gentle sleep calls and night fades to black.  Who will arise in the morning is anyone’s guess.

Editors Note:  Pecola Breedlove is a reference to Toni Morrison’s The Bluest Eye.  If you have not read it, get thee to a library quickly.

Cross Posted from Womanist Musings

Here I Am

Happy Monday!

I’m Jay, and I’m a guest blogger at Feministe this week – thanks to the regular crew for inviting me back! I last blogged here almost two years ago. My normal haunt is Two Women Blogging, although if you look carefully you’ll notice that there are actually three women. You’ll also notice a suspicious dearth of recent posts, so I hope I have plenty of material stored up for this week. I’m almost ashamed to mention that I also post at Modern Mitzvot, becuase it’s been even longer since I’ve written anything there.

My profile at TWB says I’m a primary care doc, and we need to change that. As of last month, I am now a full time Hospice Medical Director. As you can imagine, I have strong opinions about the rhetoric being thrown around about health care in the US. I suspect I’ll be writing about that, given that I live  and practice in the US.

I’m a cis, het, white, married, Reconstructionist Jewish woman, mother to one girl, now 9.5 and known ’round the blogosophere as Eve, who was adopted at birth. Lots of fodder in all of that, too – it’s Back to School shopping season where I live, so we’ve been negotiating the fashion byways. It’s also Elul, the month before the High Holidays, traditionally a month of reflection and preparation for the journey of t’shuvah (a word which is often translated as repentance, but which also means “return”).

I’ll be looking at comment threads and Email when I have time during the day, but please be patient with me if it take a while. I love my job, and right now it’s pretty busy. I’ll have more time to post and comment and manage in the evenings.

Looking forward to hanging with all of you for a while!

(Belated) Weekly Links

First, let me apologize for not getting last week’s roundup up last week. I spent all last week having variations of this conversation and, as you might imagine, couldn’t look at a monitor without wanting to stab my eyes out. When I did bravely venture online, I couldn’t read two words without having my eye-stabbing plan validated by people who don’t know from history. All that by way of my first apology—my second will follow the links.* On with the show!

Nails wonders why the George Sodini case is being handled within the framework of realm of normative Freudian psychology instead of being treated as a hate crime when, as Alderson Warm-Fork points out, those Freudian dynamics aren’t about attachments to actual mothers and fathers. Reducing a lifetime of experiences to “a very antagonistic relationship with the mother,” as Dr. J. Reid Meloy does—and with a very ambiguous use of the definitive article “the,” no less—and then claiming that that relationship, above all others, led Mr. Sodini to stroll into a health club armed to the teeth points to the general disconnect between theory and practice.

Speaking of mother issues, Tyler Haney declares that he misses Sarah Connor, and while I agree with him, he’s wrong. He’s talking about the Sarah Connor from the Terminator films, and she was, I admit, a strongly presented and portrayed character—but she was no Sarah Connor. She strikes me as the inverse of a male action star, and as such, lacks the depth of the characterization of Sarah Connor, the eponymous star of The Sarah Connor Chronicles. The name gives away the game: television’s Sarah Connor is a survivor, a mother, a caretaker, and less the inversion than any male action stereotype than the rarest of televisual snowflakes—a flawed character convinced of her rightness in the face of a world in which and I should just write a post about my abiding love for the show and stop geeking out already.  [The bad fanboy edited this paragraph.  Thanks, julian.]

How about we talk about father, er, Father issues instead? Because a number of people are writing about the Man whose Father issues were so complicated Freud ran screaming back to monotheism: I speak, of course, of Jesus . . . and his disciples. SnowdropExplodes responds to Paul—who I will, just to spite Laura, refer to his by his first name alone—and his Epistle to the Ephesians. I’m a little uncomfortable with turning Paul into Saul, and then Saul into my Jewish relatives from Jersey, but I’ll pretend, for the moment, that my lapsed faith is the forgiving one and not the one where the Big Whatsit is all about the smiting.

But enough about smiting. How about we talk about things that make us want to smite stuff like, say, magazines that impose their own collective body issues onto their covers? If photography’s going to amount to little more than drawing in the future, we may as well just anoint Lois Lane a feminist icon, despite her penchant for getting in trouble being, as actual journalist Alyssa Rosenberg notes, “fairly troubling about her actual competence.”

EKSwitaj writes a too-brief post about the power and privilege any author takes when she “appropriates the identities of those who enact violence, those who misuse power [and] the voices of the victimized.” Of course, such is the case in every book that isn’t an autobiography: if we are not writing of a violence done by or upon our selves, we are imagining ourselves into a situation whose gravity we can understand, intellectually, but never truly feel. Framed like that, the appropriation seems illegitimate; but framed differently, say, as a matter of an author coming into sympathetic identification with someone other than herself in order to share that experience with her readers, and questions of authenticity become less pressing. Once members of the group whose suffering she appropriated see that she did so in good faith—that she is willing to be corrected, to sympathize more strongly, because more accurately—the “hell of a responsibility” EKSwitaj and every working author not surnamed Grisham claim when they write outside themselves becomes a more complicated commitment for those of us in the reading public to comprehend.

Coming Next Week (By Which I Mean, “Tomorrow”): More links, as well as a section devoted to the complexities of the Canter Semenya and another to feminist issues the world over.

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Women Athletes: Choose Between Strong and Sexy

Laurie and Debbie say:

(Cross-posted to Body Impolitic.)

Unusualmusic, blogging at The Angry Black Woman, has an excellent initial post on what we expect American women athletes to look like, and live like.

One of the great problems that women athletes face is the idea that women are heterosexual sex objects. And the beauty ideal for these sex objects is a thin shape, with a bit of a curvy shape, (but not too curvy, thats fat), and a distinct lack of muscles. So female athletes are by definition considered deviant. And the more strength and height that their sports require, the more un-feminine, and deviant they are considered.

Caster_Semenya

Meanwhile, the blogosphere has been buzzing with the story of Caster Semenya, South African middle-distance runner who has been forced to take a gender test because her status as a female has been questions. (The International Olympic Committee doesn’t do gender tests any more. But the International Association of Athletics Federations (IAAF) still does.

Unusualmusic’s excellent post sheds a lot of light on the Semenya story.

Basically, there are two points being made “against” Semenya: first, doesn’t look female enough, and second, “her astoundingly quick performance” must be evidence of a lurking Y chromosome somewhere.

What they really mean is what unusualmusic is writing about: we like our women at least a little fragile, at least a little vulnerable. Being blue-eyed and blonde makes a big difference too. We encourage women to be fit and strong, but not too fit, or too strong. Go to the gym, preferably at least three times a week, but pick those workouts so they don’t give you “ugly muscles.” Take up that sport, but don’t get too good at it (we don’t like our women really competitive, either).

unusualmusic quotes from gltbq:

Perhaps the most deep-seated is the fear that women’s athletics might erode traditional femininity. The global sports world registered this concern at least three decades before the institution of sex testing and long before the Renee Richards case.

In the early 1930s, when Mildred “Babe” Didrikson, the greatest woman athlete of modern times, set world records in the woman’s 80-meter hurdles and javelin throw, reporters continually remarked on her masculine appearance, and the press focused on the Olympic medalist in a campaign to restore femininity to athletics.

babe didrikson

The controversy finally ended when Didrikson married, started wearing dresses, and turned from competing in track, basketball, baseball, football, and boxing, to setting records in the more acceptably feminine world of golf.

Semenya’s situation is being treated like an isolated case, and a lot of attention is focused on how her fellow athletes react to her: “These kind of people should not run with us,” said Elisa Cusma, the Italian runner who finished 6th.

It’s easy to focus on the extreme cases and miss the trends. If you’re a successful woman in sports, and the press and the audience can accuse you of not being a woman, they will. But if they can’t find ground for that accusation, they’ll accuse you of not being womanly enough.

Women in day-to-day life face a lot of pressure to be the “right kind of women” (i.e., the ones men want). For celebrity women, the heat is turned up a lot … because, of course, celebrity women are the yardstick with which people measure the women they know, the yardstick by which the rules of sexiness, attractiveness, and appropriateness are determined.

unusualmusic’s article is loaded with links that underscore the point. A few women athletes fit into the “sexiness” box, but most of them don’t. Just as most of the rest of us don’t.

It’s been great guest-blogging at Feministe! Come visit us at Body Impolitic.