Biological Reaffirmations of the Res Extensa of Women's Bodies

Amidst our interesting and provocative conversation today in class revolving around the duties of a woman and how the subjectivity of a woman can become marginalized, I began to wonder about the female body, and the reliance which an unborn child is inextricably linked to with its mother.

Women's bodies become the domain which enables a fetus' life. There is a dependency between unborn child and mother. A women's temple is not their temple: in media and advertising, women can lose their grasp over their breasts, but in relation to child labor, an entire women's body can become jeopardized at the hands of an unborn child.

I really appreciate Women's Studies, because it has helped enlighten me to the (non-existent) self-ownership of a woman's body. Issues like these were never brought to my attention, but I feel they have helped illuminate a stark problem which clearly plagues many women. And, beyond that, I have begun to develop my own responses to many of these crises.

The one that I wish to elaborate on today is the relationship of women's bodies in relation to their fetuses. In
"Are Mothers Persons?" Susan Bordo says that "some groups have clearly been accorded subject-status and its protections, while others have regularly been denied those protections" (73). I took this to mean that while some people are privileged in having a wide breadth of choices and volition in controlling their lives, others, like women, are constantly stifled by a set of distinct responsibilities which comes to define them. Their bodies become, singularly, bodies.

This is especially pertinent for pregnant and soon-to-be mothers who have the burden (or joy) of sustaining a baby while she's pregnant and then, while it is a new-born, taking care of it. Many say that women are isolated and become unfairly responsible for the baby whereas men have greater opportunity to explore other, non-child-rearing possibilities. And this is probably true. But why has it come to that?

As I said in class, I am, as a male, not as fit to raise a child as a woman might be. Much of this I feel stems from biological reasons. I cannot care for a child during pregnancy, nor can I breast feed a baby. I think much of these caring qualities and rearing abilities stem from these biological explanations. They derive from the capabilities of women which men simply are unable to perform.

It is something intrinsic in humanity which places women at the forefront of raising a child. But with that, with bringing up a baby, comes the denial - the "res extensa" as Bordo refers to it as - which comes over a woman. When we examine these instances, it is not a woman's choice to have a baby, or breast feed, it is something, plainly, which they are biologically capable of and men are not.

Therefore there also exists a dependency between baby and mother. A baby cannot live without the mother carrying the baby in her stomach, nor can it survive (at least healthily) without her breast milk. Because of this, women now become subjects for their kids, living for them, but it is not a societal placement as much as it is a biological one.

Even so it's unfair that women come under this "denial of subjectivity" and are forced to undertake much of the responsibility for raising their children. Although much of this stems from biological reaffirmations, it is still unfair that women became mired in this isolation which ultimately can depict their lifestyle. In the end, there are pros and cons, as there are for men, but the denial of protections and the seclusion of certain responsibilities, and especially one that can be stifling and unfair like the dependence of raising a child, is not fun.

Figuring Female Absence in the Sports World

Why is it more common to see a man enter a woman-dominated sport - like cheerleading - than it is to find a woman enter a male-dominated one, like football or baseball? 

Amidst conversation unfolding during group work on Monday, one of the girls in my group recounted her attempt to join Allegheny's baseball team. After speaking with the coach, it was decided that the only capacity in which she could take part in the team would be either statistician, water boy (or girl), or designated laundry girl (which you could call a maid). 

She accepted the terms of this agreement (much to our group's collective astonishment - how could she stoop so low after being rejected like that?), but one of the questions which arose in our conversation was, why, exactly, couldn't a woman play baseball? Even a sport which does not necessitate intense physical contact, where weight proportions do not completely qualify or disqualify a person's aptitude to play, why was she not allowed to participate with other male athletes? 

Although women may be close to the same size as men, there is something very foreign about having a woman play baseball. Baseball – like other American sports – is a facet of our culture where women have been and remain absent. For as long as the game has existed, this is the way it has been. 

In “When Bodies are Weapons,” author Mark Messner elaborates on the non-instances in which women venture onto the baseball diamond. Not isolating baseball, he says that “the conscious agency of women provided a direct threat to the ideology of male superiority” (93). By having women enter the male-dominated environment of the sports world would be a breach on male dominance. 

Back in our class discussion, we explored the possibilities of men entering female-dominated facets of culture – cheer leading, dancing – and decided it was more commonplace to have men enter environments dominated by women, but the other way around would be preposterous.

So - really - what is the relationship which allows men to enter women-dominated sports but not the other way around? Why can a man dance and cheer lead, but why can’t a woman play baseball?

The answer is grounded in this line from Messner’s article, implying that men are, at the bone and bare of it, protective about their turf. They don’t want to forfeit a realm of culture that has been from the beginning singularly theirs. For a man the baseball diamond belongs to men and men only. And that's that. It would be a frightening proposition for a woman to join the team - something so alien that men would simply be unable to grasp.  

Observing this from the lens of Messner's argument we can push this further. It is not a intrusion into a male dominated sport that proves to be so troublesome, but something deeper, more intimate than that. Having a woman enter the sporting world is an invasion and belittlement of masculinity as a whole. Women can't be allowed to enter the baseball diamond, because the space already belongs to men and any variance would tamper - and perhaps even cripple - the male psyche. 

So, in the end, it was the girl in my group's passion for the game which brought her this position on the baseball team. Personally, I don't know if I would take a secondary job like washing the team's clothes if I was told that something besides my skill was going to prevent me from playing, but she enjoys it, so hey, good for her. As a consolation, she can appreciate that it wasn't her - it was inflated masculinity which kept her off the team.

The (Non-existent) Fairness of Staring

Throughout the course of Bodies in American Culture, we have studied extensively the influences that society has on the human body and the way it is outwardly constructed for others. A common theme we have studied has been the unyielding power of society to construct identities for people's bodies and how these perceptions have become rampant in the American psyche.

Staring: How We Look, or just the act of staring, is the culmination and response to all that we've learned thus far. It answers perfectly the question of: why exactly do we respond in the way we do to certain people we've studied in the course?

Why do we stare? What constitutes staring? What makes it so inappropriate? The social constructions of the way we are, what is different, is what initiates extensive looking, seeing, and judging. Staring is a product of our own social perceptions about others.

Check out what Garland-Thomas has to say about this: "Social expectations shape our ocular sorting processes, making certain appearances and actions unusual and cataloging people as alien or native, extraordinary, or ordinary" (18). Our social constructions of people are what ultimately define them in our consciousness, what leads us to stare, observe awkwardly.

I remember one of the first times I stared at someone. I grew up with a kid through elementary, middle, and high school - Evan Rackson - who could not walk, spoke in muddled spurts, and remained permanently attached to an air tube. When I arrived in fourth grade, and noticed him sitting in the back of the room, I remember being in partial shock and awe.

But I knew then that staring was no good, even though I was astounded by his unfortunate situation. He was remarkably different, and it took me off guard. I mean, duh, of course it would. He was extremely disabled and I had never seen something likes this before.

Anyway, during our eighth grade dance, he came with a date - a girl who was also handicapped, breathing from an air tube. And they danced, somehow, Evan in his wheelchair, her above him. It was quite a sight, one which grabbed many oooohs and ahhhs from the aggregate of the student body. They weren't cheers, but more sounds one gives off when they find something to be cute, adorable.

But in retrospect, our cute giggling was most likely spurred because both of them were so different. We were drawn to them because they were in unfortunate circumstances. Our staring, responses to them were not because they were one of us, but because they were not, and they were acting similar to many other non-handicaps at the dance. Because they had been dealt a set of less-fortunate cards.

Social constructions are what constitutes staring, but mostly because we're curious. But what about in this situation? Was it fair that I looked at these two disabled persons and thought they were cute? Was I being curious or did I just want to feel a semblance of emotional appeal that I felt they embodied?

So maybe staring can be constituted by not only curiousness but also endearment - at least in this case. However, what this scenario and others have in common is that, in the end, the social construction of the situation greatly appealed to me. They were different, lived a completely different life than myself and my friends, and this is what constituted the staring.

I guess a part of me was curious to watch them interact romantically, see how that could work - but is that fair? I guess curiosity killed the cat - but what if (like in this case) curiosity triggered genuine emotion, a semblance of appeal towards this couple. If you ask me, it's still not justified to stare, giggle, and think they're different. In the end, they may not be like us, may dissent from my own personal social construct, but they're still people.

That's something that gets overlooked throughout this process of staring: that in the end, the people we are staring at are people, just like us, and want to be treated the same as anyone else. And no matter the situation, even if they are cute, acting in a romantic way, there is no appropriate time to stare. What transcends disabilities is the essence of being, singularly, a human.

A Telling Juxtaposition: Wealth and Constructing Race

It is about nine pm last Wednesday night when I go with my friend - Mike, also enrolled in Women's Studies 190 - to Sheetz, for a typical midnight snack. I'll admit here that I am slightly inebriated (it's okay, I'm 21), and already feeling a little paranoid about being in public, but hey - I had been really feeling a few mac 'n cheese bites and Mike, hungry, was feeling food as well.

I am standing at the touch-screen-operated computer ordering my food when I notice a man who looks starkly different than me. Black, wearing a hoodie, I watch him from the corner of my eye as he spills out the coins from his pocket onto the cashier's counter, pay for the food, and disembark from the establishment. I exhale - in my intoxicated conscious, for some reason, I thought this guy was going to take his food and run without paying.

I double-take a second later. I am a straight-up racist, and I feel completely ashamed of myself. What is my problem? I just immediately categorized this person and placed him under a particular stereotype. Did I do it because of his skin color and the way he was dressed? Probably. Let's be honest; I've covered this numerous times in my blogs: I am a sheltered kid from a sheltered upbringing.

But I guess - in a sad, very sad - way, this is completely indicative of our culture's way of deciphering between blackness and whiteness, a theme which I picked up in the second Winter chapter of The Bluest Eye. People judge, classify, and behave a certain way almost too frequently because of the way they look, act, and dress. In the last chapter of Winter, Geraldine behaves a certain way, too, holding people to higher expectations because of her formulations of class.

The relationship between Geraldine and other African-Americans in the novel represent an important dichotomy in our culture, because Geraldine, like other characters in the novel, is Black. But she holds herself to a "higher standard," disallowing Junior to hang out with and interact with Blacks of a particular class. Is it her wealth that she feels distinguishes herself from other Blacks in the novel, even though she too is Black, like many of the characters?

It's truly unfortunate that Whites - like myself - are so ignorant of what goes on in Black culture, that in some instances we have these highly racialized preconceptions of how someone is because of their skin color, but I suppose this also exists in African American culture. When we are being introduced to Geraldine, Morrison describes her as living "in quiet Black neighborhoods where everybody is gainfully employed" (82). It almost makes Geraldine appear slightly pretentious, that some Black people are not good enough for her. But perhaps she feels that way because she does come from an affluent Black culture, where people enjoy and want to talk to her.

What The Bluest Eye does so well is juxtapose these characters with Pecola, who has been mercifully demeaned throughout the book. It's especially insightful for me, because I am so ignorant of Black culture. What does it say about Whiteness versus Blackness - or just different facets of Blackness?

I think in this instance my own personal sheltered whiteness has coated my understanding of the book, for I have gleaned a great sense of the expanse of Black culture. I am surprised to see such a distinct separation from the two sets of characters and the way they perceive other characters. Me being white has affected my understanding of the novel; I was completely caught off guard when I read that Geraldine said to Junior that she wanted him to hang with wealthier "colored" people opposed to lower-class "niggers."

I mean, how crazy is that? Would I have judged the guy in Sheetz if he had been wearing a suit, looking sharp, like he just got out of work somewhere? Does wealth affect racial depictions? I don't know for sure, but I think evidence from the The Bluest Eye has helped paint this understanding for me, as sad as that is. Blackness, from the perspective of someone entrenched deep in whiteness, is an entity must greater than I originally thought, one which - according to Geraldine - can also be constructed heavily by wealth. Interesting.

Eroding our Identity

My own reading of the The Bluest Eye has yielded personal eye-opening revelations pertinent to Black culture. Because of the Breedloves and their plight, I feel I am tapping into a realm of society previously unknown to me.

While I have had my eyes opened, Pecola has proved very enlightening, throughout the novel in search of herself, of a different identity. She wants to have blue eyes, she is concerned with the way she looks, of how people perceive her, and this is what affects her notions of individualization. She is taking how she thinks the world perceives her and is trying to conform to it. She wants to change herself, to erode her original identity in the face of the pressures of the outside world.

What does that say about Black culture? Or just about Pecola's culture, life, and the way we she thinks she is seen? How can we apply this in a bigger context? Of course everyone feels a pressure to be a certain person. These are larger, societal pressures imposed on us, as they do Pecola. Pecola cannot have blue eyes, but the way she is "seen" lends insight that it is something in the way she wants to be perceived which clearly affects her.

It almost seems, through much of Pecola's initiatives to have blue eyes, that she yearns to conform herself to a different ideal, not necessarily to being White, but something other than what she is now.

How did that affect my reading? I was unable to originally relate to the issues at hand - at least the ones of color and gender. Being white, I don't know how it would be for many of the characters to live the lives they do simply because I am not black.

But there is something to be said about the alienation inherit in the novel and Pecola's desire to have blue eyes. The characters in The Bluest Eye want to look different, be different. Pecola wants to have blue eyes, because she perceives that this will change her. She thinks that the way she is constructed are products of the way others construct her.

But how does this come in tension with actual characteristics and motives of a person? Is what we yearn for a production of how we think people see us, or a personal volition to individualize ourselves? If we take Pecola's example, then we can see that much of the way we identify ourselves is not a production of ourselves, but a product of other, more external factors, which is unfortunate.

Pecola feels vulnerable to the gaze and judgement of others, and there is something to be said about the affects of a person's gaze. The person who yearns for a new identity, in this example Pecola, longs to look different, to conform to an appearance which she thinks is more suitable for her. She feels that having blue eyes will help yield a sense of belonging. But these are not her choices per se, as much as they are pressures that she has imposed on herself based on her judgement from looking at other people.

Therefore we have a dual-staring occurring in The Bluest Eye. Pecola is a victim of staring, but she is also herself a perpetrator of staring at people, at searching for another identity to which she can associate. That is the dual-staring happening The Bluest Eye, telling for not only characters like Pecola, but for every human being. By conforming to how others perceive us, we are ultimately eroding our own identity.

Delving Further into Fat Activism

After completing today's reading, I delved into information on the internet regarding societal beliefs surrounding fatness. I had found Farrell's elaboration on fat activists particularly interesting, and wanted to find out more about these specific organizations. For you see, individual defense against fatness - that it sometimes borders on the discriminatory - failed to register with me initially. I wasn't surprised necessarily that there were organizations which exist to combat fat prejudices, but actually enticed to find out more about them.

Many Americans - including myself - will most likely fail to realize and understand that being fat almost automatically classifies a person within a greater distinct cultural stereotype, and usually yields to broader and nastier connotations about that person. What many haters may neglect to realize is that being fat is not something that is always controllable, that a person could be overweight because they do not have a choice.

So I looked into some of these Fat activist groups, scrounging their pages for information about their programs and individual purposes. Perhaps the most prominent of these organizations - no wonder - is the National Association to Advance Fat Acceptance (NAAFA). (Of course, I immediately drew a parallel between this organization and the NAACP).

Scouring the sections, I noticed some of the rhetorical devices they use. Their slogan, hung across the top of the "About us" page, is "We come in all sizes." It is not a self-deprecating, but more an attempt to help viewers understand not necessarily the plight of being fat, but attempting the viewer to accept fatness as an intrinsic part of our society.

It does not glorify or boast. There is an underlying ideal that this is the way things are, the hand that was dealt for them. And the picture at the top of the page supports that, too - a white woman, slightly plump, looking out at the viewer through vibrant eyes (http://www.naafaonline.com/dev2/about/index.html). A younger girl (it's hard to tell if she, too, is overweight) kisses her on the cheek, again speaking volumes on this premise of acceptance while asking for understanding.

Especially represented in this picture is an angelic feeling, which helps sympathize the viewer with the picture. Looking at it, I feel somewhat linked to this person looking out at me; I almost feel bad for her, especially when looking into her hypnotic gaze. What this picture and its accompanying slogan does is frame these people in a different light: while in our society, there is a growing premise that fat people are disgusting, this picture plays into that, but spins the notion on its head to make the viewers take that back and feel sympathetic.

I perused the site further, and found a section on "The Issues." Much of the website points to facts about discrimination against fat people, especially prevalent in the work place people feel hampered about weight issues in which they receive unfair treatment in hiring opportunities. An especially salient point was:

• Stigma and shame motivate dieting and other attempts at weight loss

Although this is not pertinent to the dieting industry itself, I began to consider how they - and Farrel corroborates this in her book - is the main faction of our society which perpetuates debilitating stereotypes against fat people. They are the contingent which necessitates an organization like the NAAFA to interfere and defend against fat persecution.

Analyzing the problem in this light frames these people in the context of a hate crime, almost like victims, which in many ways they are. Again, many Americans neglect the fact that fat is a connotation which causes as many unfair generalizations as any racial stereotype, and many of which which that are just as unfair.

Product of Stereotypes

I remember the first time I encountered a transsexual. It was in a restaurant in New York City, I was maybe about ten years old, and he (or she) was our waiter. I was confused initially by who (or what) was serving us, whether I should refer to him as our waiter or waitress.

"It's a boy, hun, but he's dressed a little differently than normal," my mom said, sheltering me from a truth I had yet to fully understand.

In my ten year old body, I felt afraid, and more than a little uncomfortable by the person serving my hamburger and fries. Was this some unknown creature, hidden from the light of day? Or should I go ahead and adhere to my mother's description of him (which is what I did ultimately)?

During my freshman year of college, I worked with someone at a thrift store who must have been gay (I assumed) because he spoke in a flamboyant voice and wore women's clothing. Two earrings draped from each of his ear lobes, long, elaborate crystal-like accessories. I had been around the theater kids in high school, I had seen and hung out with homosexuals growing up, so I had no problem socializing, getting to know him, and reserved no judgement about his appearance. He was interesting, and interesting-looking, to say the least, but the way he acted and dressed never bothered me too much like it may have with other people.

But now, after our discussions regarding transsexuals have lapsed further on, I've begun to wonder if these people are gay, or if they are straight and just prefer to dress more feminine-like. We spoke a little about this in small groups, how to differentiate between a transsexual and a transgender person, and if that defines their sexuality - but nothing is definite one way or another.

We have these cultural norms concreted for us, that because a man looks and acts like a woman, that he must be gay. Why can't a straight person dress like a woman? It's an interesting question, but one which, to many, seems straight forward and rather obvious. If a man wears female attire, then he is gay. Period.

It's cultural stereotypes which really drive home these points and become ingrained in our conscious, even though they can be miles from the truth. I have a perception - one entrenched in cultural stereotypes - that this person must be gay because he dresses a certain way - but that could be completely wrong. The transvestite who was waiting on my family that night in New York, he might not, actually, be gay.

But how would a woman react to a man like this? Would she sleep with him? Probably not -- and this is the source of these stereotypes. Stereotypes are at least partially grounded in truth - they all come from somewhere, right? And therefore it is something intrinsic in the way we act, in the way sex defines us and our most basic humanity which correlates to who we are and how we behave.

A conversation arose recently in another class devolving around the idea that it is more or less foreign to see a man sewing. My immediate reaction was that if a man enjoys sewing, then he must be gay. That's my perception of the issue, because I am ignorant, and my insights are a product of gender stereotypes spelled in our culture. But then again, everyone is for the most part, too.

Realizations Regarding Attractiveness

Amy Erdman Farrel opens her book Fat Shame with a tale of Greek life, underscoring that popularity is  subtly indicative of aesthetic appearance. Similar to Allegheny Greek life, there is a stark difference between the social placement of the pretty girls and the more heavy-set girls, correlating to which sorority they join.  

I was not totally aware that it was as cut and dry as this, ignorant until it was overtly spelled by a girl in a sorority last year. This particular girl was talking about another female who intended to join her sorority, and said: 

"She's so pretty -- she could join anywhere." 

I immediately realized the extent of my naivete, and began to accept that, especially prevalent with girls, social placement is based mainly on appearance, that a girl can be part of one sorority but shunned from another because they're not pretty enough. I quickly began to think that popularity could be tied up in all of this. 

What is popularity based off of? Is it defined by having a set of fraternity brothers who wanted to talk to you? And why do fraternity guys want to talk to one sorority and not another?

And the more I thought about it, both framing it in the context of individual experiences and the social practices of Allegheny's Greek life, the more I realized how vain this school and our culture is. Why was I more inclined to hang out with one sorority? Because - and I hated to admit this to myself - I enjoyed looking at one more than another. 

Our society is straight up vain, where attractiveness depicts popularity. There is a stigma - one which Farrel elaborates on - which follows overweight people in every day life. Eating junk food, searching for a partner, these are social practices in our culture made more onerous (for some) by physical appearance.  

This perception lurks and follows people around. In any setting, someone who is more attractive, or who is perceived by others to be more attractive, may garner more attention than someone who is overweight. Despite the capabilities of one person, at the bone and bare of it all - what creates initial perceptions for themselves - is how they look. 

The manner in which these perceptions are formed and created are usually external and stem from what others think about one person. It has nothing to do with how someone might be or is - the way in which they are perceived by others is what defines them the most.  

In America, the concept is almost paradoxical - we are one of the most overweight cultures, our obesity issues are unparalleled across the world. Yet we are thought to be a beautiful, successful, and hard-working culture - and what does that say about the people who represent us? 

It only perpetuates the perception that more attractive people are the ones who are more successful. Overweight people are not capable of representing us, they would never be. Faces of this country, like high-ranking officials, are required to be thin and good-looking. That is the essence of our vain society.