PETA, sex, and the means to an end

Sometimes my own peculiar brand of social conservatism and consistent-life ethic socialism puts me into some difficult positions.  For example: I am a strong supporter of PETA, particularly their dramatic, confrontational, and brave anti-fur campaigns.  I have no problem with civil disobedience in the struggle against the fur industry.  (Frankly, though I do not generally condone the destruction of property, I won’t utter a single word of criticism against those who choose more direct action against the producers and purveyors of animal coats.  Of course, causing physical injury to another human or an animal is an unacceptable tactic.)

In a comment last week below this post, Col Steve points out something that I have chosen to ignore for a while: PETA uses sex to promote its anti-fur cause.  One of their ads, featuring "Lolita" star Dominique Swain, is here; she’s one of several celebrities who have joined PETA’s "Rather Go Naked than Wear Fur" campaign.  Dennis Rodman is the latest to join, and the first man.  (Given the disgusting popularity of fur — particularly chinchilla — among today’s hip-hop artists, I am glad to see a black male athlete joining this campaign).

My feminism is troubled by the sexualization of bodies (male or female)  in the service of any cause, be it commercial or charitable.   I especially don’t like it as part of an anti-fur campaign.  The wearing of fur for fashion is an inherently selfish act. It involves the extreme exploitation of another living thing for one’s own pleasure.  Sexually explicit imagery is similarly problematic, in that it encourages lust for another living being’s skin without a concomitant emotional connection with and responsibility for that being.  Of course, models in PETA ads are enthusiastic volunteers; slaughtered chinnies are not.  But I think a radical Christian feminist consistent-life ethic (what a mouthful) insists that we treat all life, and all bodies, as sacred.   The problem with using sexuality to make a political point is that it reinforces the notion that the body is a commodity designed not for our own delight and for sharing pleasure with another, but for selling a product or an idea.   When we commodify the bodies of living things — young women or animals — we see them as existing for our own use and we lose sight of their immense value as part of God’s complex and unique creation.   Though the animal world is indeed violent, we humans do have the free will and the means to change our diet, change our habits, and change the way in which we interact with our fellow creatures.  This means moving towards a cruelty-free life, and also, I think, towards a life where human and animal bodies are seen as precious and worthy of protection, not exploitation and commercialization.

Stars like Dominique Swain are not necessarily being exploited, but they are encouraging the viewers of the ads to focus on their flesh rather than on their entire person.  PETA knows full well, as we all do, that sex sells better than virtually anything else.  In the struggle to end fur farming and save animals, the leadership has made a decision to use the base instincts of the marketplace to attract attention to a noble cause.  On the one hand, in my eagerness to end fur farming, I’m willing to condone any legal tactic.  On the other hand, I believe that the means we use to accomplish a long-term goal must be consistent with the goal itself.  I don’t know that many other animal-rights folks have a consistent-life ethic, of course.  But I do think that many of them share a commitment to building a world where all creation is valued and protected.  And the soft-core pornography of the "Rather Go Naked" campaign is, I think, inconsistent with that long-term commitment.

Running in the hail

I just got home from a President’s Day  run in the hills around the Rose Bowl.  The terrible weather that has slammed all of Southern California  has wreaked havoc with my training schedule.  Saturday, I ran for an hour on the treadmill at the gym, and was reminded that the treadmill began its life as an instrument of torture.  (Sometimes, I think that if our medieval ancestors could see us today, they would find the fact that we pay so much money in order to sweat to be the single most astonishing thing about our culture.)  Yesterday, I confess that we played hookey from church to squeeze in a forty-mile bike ride between storms.  We had about six dry hours Sunday, and we spent half of them on our bikes.   This Solvang 100-miler is three weeks away, and I’ve been spending too little time in the saddle.

I put off running  today until this afternoon in hopes of a break in the weather.  At three o’clock, things looked promising and I headed out for a quick seven miles.  Things started out dry.  Fifteen minutes in, however, the thunder pealed and the heavens opened up and down it all came.  First the blinding rain, then the hail.  Now, running in torrential hail is a bit dicey; the little ice pellets sting when they hit and they make the ground very treacherous.  Heading along Woodbury Avenue, I saw cars pulling over; it was almost impossible to see.  I tried ducking under a very small and inadequate tree, and that was no protection, so I laughed at myself and headed back into the street.  What I like about running when I am soaked to the bone is that I no longer worry about getting wet — instead, on days like today I shake my fist at the sky and ask, "Is that it?  You can do better than that!"

Another 25 minutes later, and the rain stopped and the sun appeared; a rainbow briefly popped up over the southern edge of the Arroyo Seco.  I wasn’t exactly dry by the time I reached my car, but I wasn’t uncomfortable.  A quick and artful change (like all distance athletes, surfers, and the like, I know how to get undressed and redressed very quickly and modestly while sitting in my car) and I was warm and cozy and on my way home.

When I was a sedentary sort, as a teenager, I watched folks run in thunderstorms and I thought they were mad.  I still do think they’re mad; I just now know the pleasures of the particular form of insanity known as endorphin addiction.

Time for some tea, some playtime with Matilde, and then off to the gym to torture myself with pec flys and tricep extensions.

NIV, TNIV, and Ephesians 5

Lauryn at Feministing draws our attention to this article in the Saturday Washington Post about Zondervan‘s scheduled publication of the complete Today’s New International Version of Holy Scripture.  (The New Testament version appeared three years ago, and was created with much hue and cry by some conservatives for its embrace of gender-neutral language.)

The favorite bible of American Christian conservatives seems to be the New International Version, or NIV.  (I know, for those who don’t spend a lot of ime around the various translations, the acronyms can be overwhelming.  Lots of talk about KJV, NKJV, NLT, NASB, NEB, NRSV, and so forth.  It makes seminary students sound like traders on the NASDAQ.)    When I go to college bible studies with Intervarsity or Campus Crusade kids, their favorite translation is almost always the NIV, and they all love the red-letter study version.  I have a copy as well, though I regularly consult the King James (of course), and the old favorite of Episcopalians and other mainlines, the New Revised Standard Version.

If you want to compare all these without running off to a bookstore, use Bible Gateway; it’s a great tool.  Of course, it leans right, and thus excludes the NRSV.  The NRSV online can be found here.

But gosh, the NIV promotes a conservative understanding of marriage in some remarkably indefensible ways.  My favorite example is from Ephesians chapter 5.  Here it is in the NIV version.  Note the heading "Husbands and Wives" between verses 21 and 22.  As any New Testament scholar will tell you, these subject headings are not in the original texts!  If you read the radical egalitarianism of verse 21, you can see how desperate social conservatives might be to separate it from the subsequent verses.    "Submit to one another" seems to have far more to do with the verses following it than with those preceding it.  Yet taken seriously, it would place the subsequent verses into a very different light indeed.  Thus the NIV (and other conservative translations) created an artificial separation to avoid the suggestion that husbands might have to practice mutual submission with their wives.

If the heading "Husbands and Wives" belongs anywhere, it bloody well belongs one verse earlier than it appears in the NIV.  Its placement after verse 5:21 is a none-too-subtle attempt to twist Paul into what he certainly isn’t: a defender of hierarchical, patriarchal marriage. 

When those who love the NIV get riled up about the inclusiveness of the TNIV, they are ignoring the logs in their own eyes.  Though our favorite translations often say more about our politics than our faith, it’s fairly clear that all of us — left and right alike — are guilty of attempting to use Scripture to support our own social agendas.  None of us — particularly those of us who can’t read the original Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek — can say we "know" what Bible "really" says.  It would behoove all of us to stop our "proof-texting" (quoting Scripture out of context) and stop dropping in misleading subject headings and encourage better understanding of the original languages.

Oscars done

As always, I’m grateful for the thoughtfulness and the insight of my commenters; there’s some very good stuff below my previous post.

As of last night, my  beloved and I have completed our task of seeing all of the Oscar-nominated films prior to the handing out of the Academy Awards.  (For the record, until I moved to Los Angeles, I wasn’t nearly as interested in such things.)  Not that it’s of interest to anyone else necessarily, of the five films nominated for best picture, here’s how I’d rank them:

1.  "Sideways" (Like last year’s Lost in Translation, a film with dialogue so accurate about the male soul it took my breath away)
2.  "Finding Neverland" (Glorious and moving.  Of course, I’m  a very biased Johnny Depp fanatic).
3.  "The Aviator"(I didn’t want to like it, but I did)
4.  "Million Dollar Baby" (Good, but somehow I just didn’t buy it)
5.  "Ray"  (I loved the acting, but found the film much too long and utterly unengaging)

And I’d very much like to see Annette Bening and Johnny Depp win the Best Actor and Actress Oscars, and Sophie Okonedo and Thomas Haden Church take home the Supporting awards.   No dramatic physical transformations, no evidence of extreme use of the Method, just pure craft.

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All Saints and the offspring of the baby boomers

I’m in the office at school on a holiday Friday.  (We have a four-day weekend thanks to the Lincoln and Washington birthday observances.)   There are a few bewildered students wandering about, wondering why no one else is around.  I’ve sent several home already…

Wednesday night’s youth group session was particularly good.  The topic was parents, and the kids had quite a bit to share.  When one works with teenagers, there is sometimes a temptation to encourage them to complain about how tough their lives are.  After all, so many adolescents do feel overwhelmed and even persecuted, and providing a forum for them to share their hurts is important.  But it is also important, especially in a church setting, that they be reminded of the need for gratitude as well.  So my first question on Wednesday night was:  "What was one thing your parents did right?"

We got some very interesting responses.   Our kids come from a moderately diverse range of backgrounds.  Most, but not all, are white.  Most of the non-white kids are adopted (with one or more white parents).  As is common in an upper-middle class area, most of the parents of the teens are in their forties and fifties, not in their thirties.  Around All Saints Pasadena, it’s a rare woman who becomes a mother before 30, and the number of newborns born to (or adopted by) forty-somethings is striking.  Very few kids have more than one sibling; more of our youth are "only" children than members of families with three or more kids.  (Off the top of my head, I believe only one of our twenty-one youth groupers this week said that she had more than one sibling, while five or six were "onlys" and the rest came in pairs.)  At least three of the kids have one or more gay parents.

Of course, as one might expect statistically, about half the kids are children of divorce.   Though it would be wrong to say that our teens who came from "intact" homes were uniformly better adjusted than those from divorced families, within our group it’s fairly clear that these break-ups have negatively affected the kids.  I’d get into details, but I know a few of my teens have found my blog, and I want to very careful to not even come close to compromising their privacy and their trust in us.

Here’s the point I’m heading for:  almost all of the teens I work with are children of baby boomers (parents born between 1946-1964).  And though I know and love many of these parents, at times I am struck by the self-centeredness of their life stories — a self-absorption considered characteristic of their generation.  At times, listening to the kids talk about their parents’ divorces, one can’t help but get the impression that children have come, second, third, and sometimes twenty-third on their parents’ priority lists.    Many grew up in day care.  Many grew up shuttling back and forth between two — or more — parents.  Many have blended families with half- and step-siblings of very different ages.

Our kids also have grown up with considerable freedom.  According to our informal poll all but one of the kids this year has been allowed to date by their sophomore year of high school (though their curfews vary); some have had "boyfriends" and "girlfriends" since junior high school.  Even allowing for adolescent exaggeration, I’m well aware that this is a group that is coming of age with both the benefits and costs of considerable personal autonomy.

Once we had talked about what their parents did right, we turned to discussing what they wished their parents had done differently.  When asked to name just one thing, the majority picked the obvious, heartbreaking one: they wished their parents had spent more time with them.  Though they were remarkably understanding of the pressures their parents faced, their wistfulness and their hurt was real and tangible.  In some cases, the lack of time that their parents had had for them was a clear consequence of economic pressures — but in many cases, it was clear that self-absorption was the real culprit.  By the time we closed the meeting in prayer, there were plenty of red eyes and sniffles.

I’m not a father, yet.  I’m not posting this musing to cast aspersions on all those who parent the kids I work with.  (A great many of these parents are my dear friends, and I am grateful for the trust they have placed in me.)  But I wonder: do liberal, non-demanding progressive Christian communities tend to attract a disproportionate number of narcissistic adults?  At All Saints, we do a splendid job of preaching acceptance and tolerance, but we don’t preach discipleship and sacrifice (except around stewardship time).   The parents who are drawn to that message of inclusion — and cheap grace — may well be those who don’t want their lifestyle choices challenged.  And I suspect — indeed, I’m coming to know — that their teenagers are paying a high price for that.

I have no intention of leaving All Saints Pasadena. I already left, once, for my year-long sabbatical with the Mennonites.  Though my theology and my ethics are more conservative than those of most progressive Episcopalians, I have a real heart for the kids of our parish community.  I’ve seen the excesses of fundamentalism, and am well aware of the damage it does to young spirits and minds.  But I’ve seen the excesses of vacuous liberal tolerance and selfishness as well, and the damage it wreaks on the children is, it seems, just as serious. 

ESPN disappoints

I’m really being provoked (in a good way) by some of the comments below my previous posts, and by Mythago’s critique here.   UPDATE:  Media Girl has some thoughts as well. 

Amazonfemme writes about ESPN.com’s "Hottest Female Athlete" competition.  It’s deeply disappointing.  I never liked CNN’s alliance with the Sports Illustrated swimsuit competition (I ain’t linking to it, but I am sure you can find it on your own).  Amazonfemme writes:

The most maddening part of all is that there really are no other viable alternatives. What kind of business model do you suppose these sites have that encourage overt sexism? Are they trying to alienate female consumers?

My queendom for a sports site that doesn’t assume all male fans are horndogs – and that is savvy enough to realize that there are a hell of a lot of female fans out here, wallets in hand, waiting for the ESPNs of the world to stop pissing us off.

I’m a sports junkie.  Well, to qualify that, I care about certain sports with a passion.  I am devoted to all forms of football (particularly college), soccer, tennis, track and field, cycling, and endurance athletics.  I have my favorite teams and my many heroes.  I have male athletes I admire immensely — my current favorites range from Lance Armstrong (cycling) to Haile Gebreselassie (distance running) to Scott Jurek (really long distance running) to Alan Shearer (Newcastle United.)

I also am a huge fan of women’s sports.   The first Wimbledon final I ever watched was the first one Martina Navratilova won (1978?) — and throughout the 1980s and into the 90s, she was my idol.  I still follow women’s tennis, and my favorites today are Lindsay Davenport, Amelie Mauresmo, and, of course, the magnificent Serena Williams.  I love women’s soccer, and had a fondness for the power and elegance of Judy Foudy.

Above all, I love women’s track and field events.  The inimitable Paula Radcliffe (she of the world marathon record and Olympic agony) is my favorite, though America’s legally blind Marla Runyon is right up there.   I remember getting a 3rd place age group medal from Jackie Joyner Kersee following a 10K run I did many years ago — and nearly bursting with pride to be recognized, if only for a second, by such a magnificent and graceful athlete.  And I have an undying admiration for two-time Badwater Ultramarathon winner Pam Reed, who has regularly races in open competition, finishing first ahead of some of the best male ultrarunners in the world.

The point is, I’m a man.  I love sports.  And I don’t care about the sexiness of the athletes!  It infuriates me that undeserving tennis players like Anna Kournikova hogged the spotlight and the cameras, while less "hot" but infinitely more talented young women were ignored.  While I understand the motives that some young female athletes have in promoting their "hotness" (see the candidates at ESPN’s site for details), I think they risk harming their sports and their sisters by doing so.   

It’s not high on the list of the world’s great injustices, but it’s making me angry today.

Feminism and “making the first move”

For whatever reason, my computer is very slow in loading the comments for all bloggers who use blogspot.  This is annoying, as blogspot hosts many of my favorites, including Amanda at Mousewords.  Yesterday, she put up this interesting post on men, women, feminism, and "initiating contact" in dating relationships:

…the one expectation that weighs heavily on men in the ever-fascinating courting process (is) of actually initiating contact. This is actually a somewhat new expectation, relatively speaking. In the past, introducing yourself to someone was pretty much rude across the board. In our modern life, it’s pretty much expected that you have to do this sometimes, lest no one gets laid ever, and the burden has fallen to men.

She quotes Lynn’s comment at my blog:

I have to confess, I didn’t do a lot of initiating in my single days, even though I do and did believe, as a feminist, that that role should be shared. The reason is, when I know that all the guys expect to be initiating, it’s hard for me not to assume that the reason a guy hasn’t approached me yet is that he just isn’t interested in me anyway, and so why bother?

I’ve posted before about my own comfort level with mixing traditional chivalry with egalitarian gender politics.  (Holding mutually contradictory ideas comes easily to me, much to the annoyance of those who are fond of a foolish consistency.)  For the record, when I was single, I was not particularly shy about approaching women.  Making the "first move" made sense to me, but that may have more to do with my personality than my gender.  I am perfectly aware that many of my brothers are intensely frustrated by the "rules" that place all of the burden for initiating contact on their shoulders.  For a shy man, the expectation that he must "make the first move"  must seem genuinely unfair and, at times, overwhelming.

Amanda, with characteristic candor, writes:

I’m in a steady relationship now that has the sort of inertia anyone with a good grip on reality delights in, but I know that if I were single, I’d probably fall back into my old habits. Again, it just makes sense. If you like a guy and he’s ignoring you, odds are he doesn’t like you so why waste your time? I see how it plays out and it frustrates me, but I don’t see a good way out of it. You can’t teach guys to be more reticent–that’s not fair to them. But teaching girls to be forward has only limited use, and efforts in that direction will be dashed on the first guy that strings them along and they take solace in books with obnoxiously long titles about how guys are just not going to be into a sort like you, and everything goes to shit.

Where Amanda and I differ is that I’m not sure we need to find a "way out of it."  For me, feminist principles in a marriage or other romantic relationship revolve around issues of mutual respect and mutual burden-sharing.   In an egalitarian relationship, each person’s goals and dreams and efforts matter equally — and each partner makes equal (if not identical) sacrifices for the success of these goals.  But that has little to do with the way in which a couple meets.

In a world where women are far more likely to be raped and harassed than men are, teaching women to be more forward is to expose them to considerable risk.  While forward men risk rejection (which hurts),  forward women risk far more. Most women have abundant experience with having their friendly, non-sexual overtures misinterpreted.  For some men, even a simple smile from a woman can mean sexual interest.  We have to do much more to make public space safe for women before we can expect greater willingness to make the first move!

But I think it’s also true that both men and women can derive real satisfaction from traditional roles.  Perhaps it’s because these roles are familiar, but perhaps it’s also because they speak to our deep and real desires.   Though making the first move is scary, sometimes it feels good to take a genuine risk.  Overcoming fear is difficult (perhaps all the more so for my more introverted brothers), but it is empowering and exciting to do so.  Making the first move does, I think, make some guys feel more like men.

And, at the risk of getting flamed, I think most women very much want to be wanted.  Of course, we all want to be desirable — but whether rooted in biology or culture, women’s longing to be longed for is powerful stuff indeed.  Though feminist theory emphasizes the importance of women’s agency, of making women into the subjects of desire, I think it’s important not to forget that every once in a while, being an object of someone else’s longing can feel pretty damn good.  Countless women I know feel a certain "feminist guilt" at taking genuine pleasure in being desired and in letting a man pursue them rather than the other way around.  But that guilt is, I think, both misplaced and unnecessary.   Amanda writes of

…this odd pattern where men and women become more and more equal all the time in negotiating their relationships, discussing their sexual needs, the whole bit. And yet getting the ball rolling is still pretty much left up to men.

It’s only odd if you assume that how a relationship begins must set the tone for everything that follows. To me, given the different levels of risk for men and women, and given our own innate (so I argue) delight in certain traditional gender roles, it actually makes all the sense in the world.

UPDATE:  I’m going to leave what I wrote above unchanged, but as I re-read it, I do recognize that despite all my years of men’s work, I have an unfortunate tendency to be a bit flip in dismissing the real anguish that my less assertive brothers may experience around dating issues.  I ought to be more sympathetic and less glib when I write things like "men risk rejection, nothing more."  Rejection is enough. It hurts and it stinks, and to make light of it for anyone isn’t fair.

Sometimes, according to my critics in the comments, it seems I’m insufficiently "masculine" to really empathize with other men.  On the other hand, I wonder if I’m too comfortable with traditional male roles to really connect with the pain of those guys who aren’t.  I’m working on it, and I have some things to pray about and reflect upon today.

Two Thursday short poems by Donald Justice

The late Donald Justice was a master of short, traditional verse.  He’s got two terrific little ones on men (one of my favorite subjects).   At almost 38, both ring true.

                                               Men at Thirty

Thirty today, I saw
The trees flare briefly like
The candles upon a cake
As the sun went down the sky,
A momentary flash
Yet there was time to wish

Before the break light could die
If I had known what to wish
As once I must have known
Bending above the clean candlelit tablecloth
To blow them out with a breath
Men at Forty

Men at fortyLearn to close softlythe doors to rooms they will not becoming back to

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ENFPs, happy chinchilla news, and happy Lance news

I found a colleague’s copy of a Myers-Briggs personality test, and went through it again.  Since I hadn’t taken one since 1993, I wondered if I still was an ENFJ.  Nope!  Something has shifted in my life, as I now come out as ENFP.  Less judging, more perceiving — though it was very close between the two.

At the risk of being a boastful papa, I need to share that our gorgeous Matilde is a hardworking and generous chinchilla, and has been doing some splendid work this month to raise funds to help her friends in the Midwest in danger of being pelted.  And there is much good news to report on the Pet Homes for Ranchies site.  But so many more chins can still be saved, and Matilde is very interested in seeing this project expanded.  One way or another, our little family is going to start to play a role in ending chinchilla pelting in this country.  All rap stars draped in the bodies of hundreds of these precious babies, you are on notice!

The really exciting news of the morning is that Lance Armstrong ended months of speculation last week by announcing he will ride in this summer’s Tour de France.  In my world, these are indeed splendid tidings.  If I had watched Oprah on Friday, I would have known this.  As it turns out, I was riding around the Rose Bowl in the pouring rain as his show aired.  So this may be news only to me…

I miss having tons of time to post.  Three classes ahead today.

A note on links and objectivity

I suppose I give the impression that my gender studies courses take a narrow ideological line.  In my comments below my previous post about my men and masculinities class, I point out that in addition to assigning the pro-feminist Michael Kimmel, I also assign Chuck Palahniuk’s Fight Club and Robert Bly’s Iron John.  It would be difficult to make the case that either is a pro-feminist tract!

In that particular class, I do my best to expose my students to five major strains of the men’s rights movement: pro-feminists, men’s rights advocates, mytho-poetics, Promise Keepers, and the gay men’s movement.  I also provide the students with a list of websites that give them an introduction to all of these.  Yes, my MRA friends, I’ll stick several of your websites on their list this semester!

I do the same thing with my Women in American Society class.  I provide a website list that suggests visiting everything from Feminist Majority to Feminists for Life, from the Independent Women’s Forum to NOW, from Off Our Backs to On Our Backs.  It’s critical that college students be exposed to a broad range of perspectives on gender issues.  But at the same time, that doesn’t mean that my job is merely to describe those perspectives.  Ultimately, good teaching is not merely descriptive, it is prescriptive.  Good teaching and impassioned advocacy are not antonyms; as long as that advocacy is accompanied by objective grading standards, it is appropriate and even desirable in the classroom.

Those who disagree are always welcome in my classes.  But a feigned disinterest is a colossal disservice to one’s students in a field as dynamic and important as gender studies.