10 August 10
Glorifying Domestic Violence, or Showing Domestic Violence in a New Light
This is the video with Eminem and Rhianna for the song “Love the Way It Burns” which demonstrates domestic violence. I’d avoided listening to the song for weeks. I have a love/hate relationship with Eminem. I enjoy a lot of his music, but then I hate some of it so much that it makes my stomach turn. I had read so many other blog posts about how other feminists online thought that this song and the video glorified Domestic Violence (DV). As someone who spent a good portion of my junior high years living attached to a DV shelter while my mother worked for it (after leaving an abusive relationship herself), I have a view on DV that hasn’t sat right with so much of what I’ve read, studied, learned about DV over the years.
I chalked up a lot of it class issues. Since so much of what I’ve read has been written by academics, I just assumed that because we’d been poor at the time, that’s why our experiences were different. I started reading the previously mentioned blog posts about how Eminem was taking advantage of Rhianna’s name and publicized abuse to make money, to glorify violent relationships, to further victimize women who are already being victimized. And it took me a while to have the courage to listen to the song or watch the video.
Then a few days ago when I saw it on Flip Flopping Joy, I figured I’d avoided it long enough and should probably watch it. And if you’ve read blog posts or articles or essays or editorials vilifying the video, I highly encourage you to read bfp’s words and to read the words of her commenters.
After reading her post, I felt that my conflicted feelings were safe in that space, I felt safe enough to comment on her site, whereas I didn’t and don’t feel safe commenting on the site of feminists who have complained about the song and video.
And then I read this post, guest-written, over at Pigtail Pals and as I read the words of Melissa D., I began to realize how I felt about this video. And how I am still conflicted, but hopeful after coming to this realization.
I think the vast majority of the people in a relationship that resembles the one we see about in this video, that we hear described in the song, DO NOT consider themselves in an abusive relationship. Whereas the number of people who have studied domestic violence, escaped an abusive relationship, watched a loved one suffer in an abusive relationship will see the abuse immediately and react to that with fury. Abuse should cause a fury reaction. And I think this is how the vast majority of the feminist blog-osphere is reacting, and I’m okay with that reaction, because I agree that abuse is wrong.
But I don’t think this song and this video glorifies abuse. Not entirely at least. Here’s what we know about Rhianna’s abusive relationship with Chris Brown. They had an argument. He says she slapped him. Whether you wanted to or not, you likely saw the images of Rhianna’s bruised and bloody face after he hit her. She didn’t leave him at first. And then she did.
It took the realization that, as a role model, her decisions could influence other victims of domestic abuse to return to their abusers to finally persuade her to stay away from Brown, she told Diane Sawyer on “Good Morning America” Thursday.
Those are the bare and simplified facts. And you know what? I bet Rhianna and Chris didn’t think they were in an abusive relationship. I bet their relationship mirrored that of the couple in the video. I bet it just seemed scary, intense, passionate, overwhelming, heart-breaking, needy, and at times violent. But I don’t think Rhianna ever felt like a victim of domestic violence until after the publicity around the incident that caused her to finally leave him. I doubt it was the first time he’d hit her. And I doubt it was the first time she’d slapped him. But that doesn’t keep it from being abusive, nor does it keep it from being wrong, nor does it keep it from causing widespread fury that the abuse occurred.
But, her leaving Chris and her talking about it publicly was probably watched by a lot of people who never watch Domestic Violence PSA’s or Lifetime movies about abuse, or read about patriarchal underlying causes. I bet there are a lot of women who saw Rhianna leave Chris and were rooting her on. And I bet, and I hope that many of those women who rooted Rhianna on for leaving Chris watch this video, hear this song, and see their relationship mirrored in this video and recognize that passion for the abuse that it is.
I see that recognition in the commenters at Flip Flopping Joy and I see that pattern in the words of Melissa D. And, as I think about it, I see and have seen this pattern in other relationships I’ve known about. Most of which involved couples who were very middle-class, who came from “good” backgrounds. I think of the friend who said she wished her boyfriend WOULD hit her, cause then she could justify leaving him. But because he only broke things when he was angry, she found herself continuing to go back to him, even though he threatened to hit her regularly. I think of the couple where he cheated and she ignored it until she couldn’t and then she attacked him and he took it and it created a pattern where he would abuse her trust, abuse her emotionally, abuse her mentally until she would blow up and attack him physically. And you know what both of these women said when we talked about this? “If it wasn’t for how amazing things are when we make up, I might be tempted to leave.”
But despite this hope, I still feel conflicted. I still believe that low self-esteem for all children (not just girls, because I firmly believe that boys and men who bully women suffer from very low self-esteem) makes abuse more common, especially abuse within romantic relationships. And I fear that the young men who idolize Eminem, who feel that he speaks for them and speaks to them, will see this video and feel their relationship style, their anger, their rage is justified. So while I don’t think this video or song glorifies Domestic Violence, nor glorifies abusive relationships, and while I hope that young women will see themselves reflected in Rhianna, I fear that young men will see themselves reflected in Eminem and cheer while continuing these patterns.
03 August 10
My mother is a home-owner
It took until she was just shy of 60, almost got derailed due to yet one more divorce-related finance issue, but she did it. Despite all of her struggles and trials and setbacks, my mother now owns 3 acres of land and a small 3 bedroom house. There’s a lot of work that needed to be done to it (the previous rental tenants had left it full of flea-ridden carpets and junk), but there is a lot of work that we got done in the 3 full days I was out there. Thankfully I was able to take some time off to head out and help her get some grunt work (painting, spackling, carpet-tack removing, closet-rod hanging) done so she could focus on the much harder task of trying to figure out where all of her stuff should go now.
Not only did she wake up every day around 5am and start going non-stop until 10pm (whereas I got out of bed around 8am and one day 9:30am), but she did it all without melting down. Moving is stressful, anxiety-ridden, and emotional. Moving into your first home during a process that got sped up more than you expected is even more emotional. But I think I provided a little levity that helped things go smoother. And I offered some advice about some of the things that she was less sure about, but I could help with.
One of her concerns was that they would have to replace the windows because the frames looked very weather-beaten. And from the outside I can see why she was nervous. But I realized that the part that looks in bad shape is the storm windows on one half of the house, whereas the movable windows are in great shape. So she’s going to try some weather-stripping on a few that seem a little loose, wait one winter, and hopefully be able to keep the original windows that were handmade by the original owner.
She got some great history on the house, and I didn’t have time to read it all, but the land (3 acres, more than half of which is covered in walnut trees) was purchased in 1948. The couple built a two-room shack with a two-seater outhouse and moved into it. The front room was the kitchen and the back room was the living area. They lived in this while they built the main house themselves. Once they had finished the main house and moved into it, the original dwelling was converted into storage and chicken coop. Since my mom has a few chickens, she was able to make use of this space quite nicely.
There is quite a lot of work (and I promised my mom that I wouldn’t put up pictures of the inside until it is closer to done) that still needs to be done to the inside. Floors need to be refinished, but thankfully the horrifically ugly shag carpeting was protecting the original wood floors that had never been stained or varnished. Since they’re in great shape, we looked into what it would be seal them and the cost is so much better than the wall-to-wall carpet they assumed they needed, that they’re going to keep the floors uncovered. The kitchen floor is just linoleum tile, so we’re hoping that we can just remove the tile and keep the sub-floor undamaged so we can lay new and much nicer linoleum tile down. The rest of the work is unpacking, curtain hanging, painting, and general cleaning. If I’d had a few more days, I would have started on the floor sealing myself. But it just means I’ll have to plan a future visit to help her with that.
The outside of the house and the garage, garden shed, chicken coop, and yard need a lot of work as well. Thankfully a riding lawn-mower was purchased and my younger brother has been over almost every day bagging up trimmed limbs and discarded bushes and mowing and raking and generally getting a lot of work done to the outside of the house. How he has managed to do as much as he has while working full-time, taking care of his kids, and sleeping I have no idea. (Notice the theme of my family members making me look lazy? Oy!)
But despite all the “fixin’up” that needs to get done, this new place is going to make quite a nice homestead. Mom talked briefly about how this was the type of house she always wanted to have for us kids to come back to and for her grandkids to visit her in. And even though the disorganization brought her close to tears* at several points, in just 3 short days she was able to turn the house into a home. And by the time, I left, it did indeed feel like a home. A sparsely decorated home, but a home. It felt good, comforting, loved, warm. It felt right. It made me happy.
I told my mom that getting to help her move into her first owned home, and hopefully her last-ever home on my birthday was a gift to me. Knowing that she has been able to fulfill a dream she’s had for longer than she’s had me, getting to hear her talk about all of the things they can do to make the home even better, getting to see her walk the outline of her future garden, watching as she pointed out various plants and talked about how she would adjust things to suit her taste and restore the home and yard to it’s former glory, not only hearing but feeling the pride in her voice as she talked about her home, was a huge blessing. It’s just a house. It’s just a place to keep your stuff and sleep at night. But for my mom, it’s proof that her decades of sacrifice and saying “someday” have finally paid off. It’s proof that she’s won out over adversity. It makes me smile just remembering her standing in her back yard as I drove away. It makes me a little sad that I can’t visit it every day, but I know I’ll appreciate every visit home just a little bit more now. And it reminds me what I’ve always known. My mom is where my home is, even though I’m all grown up, even though I own my own home, even though I’ll spend just a few nights in this house a year, I’m sure I’ll call this place home. Because my mom is there. And she’s happy.
*At one point on Saturday after a fairly stressful and long day where we both felt like we’d done so much work but had so little improvement in key rooms to show for it, I moved everything away from one corner of the living, set up a table and a lamp in the corner as she’d said she wanted to. Then I made my mother stand with her back to the clutter and disarray and boxes, instructed her to put her hands up to her face like horse-blinders and look at the corner of the room. She was trying not to sound irritated as she said “What am I looking at?” I told her that she was looking at a corner of a finished living room. And if she could just focus on that, she’d be able to get the rest done. She laughed until she started to cry and then she laughed some more. Sometimes you gotta push people closer to the edge when they’re close in order for them to realize they’re not at the edge and are therefore okay.
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17 July 10
I write like . . .
Taking it old school with a meme today:
12 July 10
Looking for Inspiration
I’m burnt out. It’s hard to say that out loud. The last couple of months or so I’ve had a hard time keeping ahold of my motivation and inspiration. In many ways I’ve felt like I’m just fighting an uphill battle with the to-do list at home, the to-do list at work, the to-do list for Poise, the to-do list for the other projects I want to be involved in. And it’s just overwhelming. I think I go through this periodically, start to wonder what the sense in keeping any of it going is. Why do I always bite off more than I can chew? Do I secretly like that panicked, choking sensation when I realize I have too much to do in the time allowed? Or has it become such a pattern that I don’t know how to break out of it?
And I say this realizing at this point last year I was halfway through writing a book. This year what have I done? I made a couple bags, and, um, started to reorganize the kitchen, and, um, yeah I started a few knitting projects. Sigh. Maybe it’s because I don’t have an externally created deadline. I’m not good at creating deadlines for myself, although I have gotten better.
But I’ve been whiny about it. I start talking or thinking about all of the things I “have” to do and I feel whiny. Andrew and I talked about this a few nights ago, and I had no answers. I resisted the urge to go through all of the things I have to get done, all the projects I’ve started but haven’t completed (oh dining room, you were so on the way to looking perfect). And as I woke up on Sunday, feeling much less whiny after a good night’s sleep, I couldn’t help but wonder if that is part of the problem. I don’t sleep enough. I don’t think I’ve felt rested 7 days in a row for years. I need to fix it.
But I also think I need to create a to-do list of all the things I feel like I have to get done. Maybe having them in a concrete list that I can check off will make me feel more organized. It worked at work and for the DIY Trunk Show. The sense of anxiety and panic subsued and I was able to just look at the list and figure out what I could do next. If it isn’t an ordered list, I think it’ll be easier to read through. While I was thinking about the things I needed to go on my list, I saw a blouse that I cut out two years ago.
I actually cut out the fabric to be a dress two years ago. I had it mostly complete and realized that the interfacing for the button facing was way too heavy, and I looked like a character out of Little House on the Prarie, which could be cool if it were for Halloween, but it was supposed to accompany me on vacation. It ended up hanging on a hook in my closet, mocking me every time I wanted something behind it.
So last night I ripped off the facing, cut out new facing, sewed it on, pressed it, hemmed it and marked buttonholes. And now that I look at it all ready for cutting and sewing and button applying and I wonder if I should have marked the buttonholes the other direction instead. Side-to-side? or Up-and-down? What a quandry. It may not really matter, in the end, at least not as much that I finished something. It’s going on the top of the to-do list. That way I have something to start with that makes me feel accomplished and reminds me that none of the things on my list are bad. As long as I take them one at a time.
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06 July 10
Teen Violence More Common Than Pregnancy
Teenage girls are more likely to suffer from dating violence than to become pregnant or be injured in a traffic accident.
This is something that I long suspected to be true, long suspected as in it seemed more common when I was a teenager than the media reported. I heard story after story about teenage pregnancy and how sex education wasn’t working, and how birth control availability was the problem, and how things were really better in the ’50s and we needed to go back to those days. (Of course, I didn’t hear about The Girls That Went Away until college or after and we don’t hear much about this side-effect of the shaming of pregnant women that took place before the 70s.)
But one thing the article mentions, and is something to keep in mind for most places, but reporting is controlled at a county level, not a state level. And counties vary on what they report about and how they react to domestic violence. Very few counties have domestic violence agencies within them, and counties that are more “old skool” are less likely to provide orders of protection or report domestic violence. I’m sure things have changed considerably since the mid-80’s when I was last involved with a DV agency.
And the other thing to consider is that this report only cases where dating violence got so bad that it required an order of protection, and pregnancies that didn’t result in miscarriage. I’m sure both of those numbers would affect the report results. And from what I knew in high school, the vast majority of girls who were “abused” by their boyfriends didn’t call it that, the same way that I think most women who are abused don’t call it that. They would say that their boyfriend was “really passionate when he was angry”, or that he “often did things he regretted”, or that he “just had a horrible temper sometimes.”
But it’s interesting. And it’s another sign that the pro-life movement is really just anti-abortion rights, and not pro-life, or they’d be concerned about what was happening to these children. Because even though teenagers get in relationships that turn violent, they’re still legally children and should receive all the protections that the law provides them.
04 July 10
I finally got one
I find it very appropriate that I find my first grey hair just weeks before I turn 39. Very appropriate.
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08 June 10
Maybe for sale after all
I happen to have found this very fabric and just may be able to purchase enough to make a few bags just like this after all. I’m going to mull it over and see if I want to duplicate this (bag-making is emotional people) for sale. I’m leaning toward a very strong maybe. Now if the wrist strap hooks can easily be found, I’m definitely selling this bag. I need to figure out what the true cost would be before creating a price, but I’m hoping to keep it affordable.
07 June 10
Wedding Clutches
Not mine, obviously. But I’m so proud of them, and so happy to have something new to show off, that I had to put up even a crappy picture of one.
This bag was made for a friend and is a custom order. The fabrics represented are in the bridesmaids dresses, so they will be a bit matchy at the wedding, but afterward, I could see someone using this clutch with a casual to semi-dress outfit.
Starting on Saturday I started cutting out scrap fabric and mocking it up. I tried it in three different sizes before I got something that seemed to have the right balance. I knew the width I wanted the center panel to be. Any narrower and the buckle just looked out of scale. Any wider and the buckle seemed ineffective. With that as my constant design-wise, I played around to find the perfect height of the bag. I wanted something that fit right in a hand, but that could also be held by the corner.
There is a zipper under the flap to keep all of the contents truly secure, so the gold-tone buckle is purely for show, but I really, really like it. I’ve had them for years and always imagined they’d be on a clutch but couldn’t quite get them to work. I think this solves that problem.
When I made the prototype bag I was using a faux-suede for the body (the solid red part) and a polyester satin for the flap and the stripe. It came out great, or so I thought. I like the prototype bag enough to use it myself, actually. But, I took the same measurements and went to make the bag out of the Thai silk and linen light-weight canvas print. And that’s when I realized I’d made an error in judgment. Faux suede + polyester satin ≠ Thai silk + canvas-weight linen. Which means that the measurements for the zipper, the height of the flap, the corner curve angle. the placement of the buckle, and the measurements of the lining weren’t matching up. Which means I pretty much spent two days making a pattern, just to spend today making it again and then making 3 complete bags.
But in the end, despite my lapse in judgment (and we won’t talk about the 2 hours I spent ripping stitches because I was lacking in enough fabric to start over) I’m really happy and proud of how these came out and I think the woman giving them as gifts will like them as well. The wedding is in a few weeks, so I’ll hopefully get to show off how they look in person. There’s one bridesmaid in particular that I’m really hoping likes it. She’s kinda girly retro punk-rock and I think this may be rock-a-billy enough to make her happy.
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