Pretty Plus
When I started thinking about tightroping and all of the things women are doing to fit in and gain respect at work I was wondering where this all started. We didn’t always feel this way; it creeped up on us over time (like our fondness for kale). Think back to when you were little. Maybe before second or third grade. We didn’t check ourselves for tone or the approval of others. I am fairly certain we didn’t give two shits about what anyone thought.
In fact, I know I didn’t care. This is based on memories of wearing a GOLD PRESS ON NAIL (just one) on my left pinky finger in first grade because I thought it was awesome.* I paired that with a sweater tied around my shoulders like I owned a yacht. I also needed to get glasses and selected a red pair like Sally Jessy Raphael. Quite the aesthetic.
I look at my son and the kids in his class and am happy to see that this is (mostly) still the case. They dress for comfort and function, not style. Just this morning Leo pointed out that the inside of the pants I offered him were simply “not soft enough” so he put on a thermal and sweatpants (in a variety of colors) and topped the look off with his signature mix-match sock game. They have little to no filter and say exactly what they are thinking. A recent favorite: Mom, I don’t mean to be rude but this dinner does not taste good at all. They are unapologetically who they are and it is lovely to see and I wish it would last forever. But I know. I know what is coming for them. Middle school. This is where I think we start picking up our tightroping behaviors. Maybe you had a great time in middle school and have only amazing memories when you think back to those most awkward of times. I did not and do not. There are likely many reasons for this.
I was a CHUNKY kid who had to wear the ½ sized clothes from the Sears line called “Pretty Plus.” I had braces and two different kinds of headgear (thanks be to Dolly Parton that I did not have to wear it to school). I once wore a leather (pleather) skirt my grandma got me and I was teased about it for the next several years. The same (very well meaning) grandma also cut my bangs while they were wet so they ended up very short and unwilling to do anything resembling what a bang should do.**
Please enjoy this actual Sears catalog page I found online. I most definitely owned several dresses like that.
At whatever age we start worrying about what other people think; we are hopping up on that tightrope. We start to self-criticize, self-monitor, and self-doubt. On top of all of that self-imposed stress, we have to cope with implicit and explicit societal messages about how we “should” act. When it comes down to it, I think there are three major contextual factors that play into this. They are certainly not the only ones but they feel unavoidable.
PATRIARCHY
Patriarchy is a social system in which men hold the majority of power. It literally means “rule of the father” and it creates a structure in which women are viewed as “subordinate in relation to some man or men therein.” Though use of the word is often equated with a specific type of person, namely an “iron-spined feminist of the old school” it has come to be part of our normal vocabulary. Side note, call me an “iron-spined feminist” and I will kiss you on the mouth!
Still reading? Hooray! Sometimes I find that as soon as I say the word patriarchy there is some eye rolling (internally or externally) and (some) people stop listening. I’m glad you’re still here.
Acknowledging the existence of the patriarchy doesn't mean that you don’t like men and think men are terrible (unless you do). It does mean that you recognize the system we have been operating in since the dawn of time is set up this way for a reason and it’s not for the benefit of the ladies or anyone who isn’t a (white) man. The patriarchy automatically offers (white) men positions of power for the mere fact that they are (white) men. Not a (white) guy? Too bad for you! The patriarchy is only interested in their narrowly defined ideas about morality, how to govern, lead, and make decisions. This approach seems inherently flawed considering the multitude of killer ideas that have come from everyone else in our society but who wants to change a system that benefits them? Not a lot of people! So, the patriarchy marches along. And one of the many ways it marches along is by men hiring other men to do jobs they think can only be done by people who look like them (#affinitybias).
Some will argue that we are living in a post-patriarchy society. They are wrong. They will point to the fact that women have jobs, and bank accounts, and that we have “come so far” but that’s simply not true and it’s not enough. If these amazing changes occurred we wouldn’t be talking about the gender pay gap, #metoo, fights for paid family leave, street harassment, fear of physical attacks and sexual assaults. Additionally, a post-patriarchy world would include our elected officials in Congress actually reflecting the population rather than looking like the cast of an erectile dysfunction commercial.
MISOGNY + SEXISM
The word misogyny was introduced to us way back in the 1600s so it’s good to know we needed vocabulary to hate women while trying to survive plagues. Popularized as a response to a pamphlet (the Twitter of the 17th century) by one Joseph Swetnam titled: The Arraignment of Lewd, Idle, Froward, and Unconstant Women. It was written as a consideration of women’s place in society. Honestly, please read it. It includes such gems as: “The fairest woman has some filthiness in her” (Yes, girl!!), and,
Her breast will be the harborer of an envious heart, and her heart the storehouse of poisoned hatred; her head will devise villainy, and her hands are ready to practice that which their heart desires.
I don’t know about you, but villainy and filth are all I can ever think about which is clearly why, like Eve in the garden, I can’t be trusted. He also compares women to ships, a lot.
Misogyny is now often used interchangeably with sexism in writing and conversation. Some may argue that using these two words synonymously takes a bit of the “bite” away from misogyny since sexism is more about discrimination or prejudice based on gender/sex and not hatred but hearing either/both words in daily life has value. It’s an acknowledgement that there is a problem and using words that make people uncomfortable can serve as a catalyst for difficult conversations.
For anyone who thinks we are also in a post-sexist world, I urge you to take a look at the Everyday Sexism Project. It is an online catalog of sexism experienced on a day to day basis. The creators believe that by sharing your story you’re showing the world that sexism does exist, it is faced by women everyday and it is a valid problem to discuss.
The underlying objective of sexism toward women — whether conscious or not — is to maintain the current system of men having more power than women (see The Patriarchy, above). As such, misogynist is now as often applied to the system of institutions that creates an unequal America as it is to individuals. In this broadened meaning, happily married men, men with daughters and women themselves can be implicated. Identifying misogyny and sexism as both systemic issues and individual attitudes is exceptionally useful. This shift in language over time allows us to call BS on the men using, “as a husband and father” as a way to qualify their condemnation of violence and discrimination against women and girls. Perhaps as a HUMAN BEING you can accept that treating someone differently for any reason simply isn’t acceptable but, until men can sit and marinate in these uncomfortable truths, any contribution they offer to the discourse is just painful, infuriating noise.
Painful, infuriating noise. That’s an A+ way to describe all of this. The noise of patriarchy, misogyny, and sexism are all around us, all of the time, and they seem almost impossible to avoid. I’ve tried. I even bought these damn Loop earplugs to drown it out. They didn’t fix the problem; I still hear the noise (and my husband’s snoring). So what do we do? There’s clearly not one way to combat patriarchy, misogyny, and sexism. A lot of the suggestions I found seem to put the onus on women to address the issue by speaking up and speaking out. This creates another situation where we have to address and help solve a problem that we had absolutely no hand in creating (see footnote). We will do it (and we are doing it) but men also have to be part of the solution. I did see one common suggestion to deal with these issues that made sense to me: START EARLY. We have to offer education and training on these topics to all kids way sooner than we do. We can’t wait until we “think” kids are ready to understand this stuff because by then it’s too late. By then they are already making comments (and behaving) in ways that are steeped in these cultural influences. I don’t want that for my kid. I don’t want it for his friends and I actually don’t want it for the rest of us either. What I do want is for us all to embrace our former no shits to give selves. To say, wear, and act however feels right. And while we are all doing that I’d like to erase the Sears-fueled shame of my youth and somehow reclaim Pretty Plus. I’ll work on that one, after I see if my glasses come in SJR red.
*I think it still might be awesome? Should I bring it back? I am very into my nails and I just found this but I’m pretty sure my childhood one cost under $2.
**I have what my stylist has referred to as “an aggressive cowlick.” Bangs will never work no matter how hard I try. Every time I think of bangs this video pops into my brain. Girl, don’t do it!
Oompa
Growing up in Pittsburgh I listened to a lot of polka music.* My grandparents were big fans. In fact, I was once on the evening news doing the polka with my Nanny (Grandma). True story. When I was four we drove from Pittsburgh to Alaska in a 24-foot Winnebago (yes, DROVE) and the only available music was polka and the Annie soundtrack.** The other day I was feeling nostalgic and went to listen to my childhood playlist which includes a lot of polka. The lyrics to these songs are WILD. There is an entire song about a stolen blood sausage and one detailing that you better drink all your beer on earth because there isn’t any in heaven. The real kicker is that a personal childhood favorite of mine was called the Too Fat Polka. You heard that right. I loved this song and can remember singing it at the top of my lungs with my family in my grandparent’s basement. I can see the carpet, I can picture the chair I sat on. These are core memories. But the actual lyrics? Prepare yourselves:
Here's a silly ditty,
You can sing it right away
Now, here is what you say
So sing it while you may
Here's a silly jingle,
You can sing it night or noon
Here's the words, that's all you need
'Cause I just sang the tune:
Oh, I don't want her, you can have her
She's too fat for me
She's too fat for me
She's too fat for me
I don't want her, you can have her,
She's too fat for me
She's too fat
She's too fat
She's too fat for me
I get dizzy
I get numbo
When I'm dancing
With my Jum-Jum-Jumbo
I don't want her, you can have her
She's too fat for me
She's too fat for me
She's too fat for me
I don't want her, you can have her
She's too fat for me
She's too fat
She's too fat
She's too fat for me
Can she prance up a hill?
No, no, no, no, no
Can she dance a quadrille?
No, no, no, no, no
Does she fit in your coupe?
By herself she's a group
Could she possibly
Sit upon your knee?
No, no, no
We don't want her, you can have her
She's too fat for me
And she's too fat for me
But she's just right for me
We don't want her, you can have her
She's too fat for me
Yeah, she's too fat,
Much too fat
But she's just right for me
She's so charming
And she's so winning
But it's alarming
When she goes in swimming
We don't want her, you can have her
She's too fat for me
She's too fat for me
But she's just right for me
So I sure want her, you can't have her
She's just right for me
But she's too fat!
She's not too fat!
She's just right for me!
She's a twosome,
She's a foursome
If she'd lose some
I would like her more some
I don't want her, you can have her
She's too fat for me
She's too fat for me
She's too fat for me
I don't want her you can have her
She's too fat for me
She's too fat
Much too fat
She's too fat for me
Hey!
Part of it was sung in what I thought was Polish but could be Slovenian. I am not entirely sure, but the point is that this song is whack by today’s standards. It was originally released in 1947 but the version I grew up with was by Frankie Yankovic (no relation to Weird Al) and it was from 1968. I realize things were “different” back then but this song has a generally shitty message. As a little kid I can’t imagine I considered what the lyrics were actually saying. It was just a song to me. But as I got older the message was received: Fat = bad. It wasn’t just from this song. Although we didn’t have the hellscape of social media in the 80s, it was clear what the optimal look was as a middle school girl: not fat. That was unfortunate because right around fourth grade I became what would kindly have been referred to as “chunky.” I had to wear the clothes that came in ½ sizes from Sears. At the same time I had braces and headgear (two types!). It wasn’t a great time for self-esteem but it sure did provide lots for the bullies at school to work with. I made it through and now, according to my therapist, use humor as a coping mechanism in stressful situations. She is not wrong.
School bullies will always exist because children are monsters to each other. There are many reasons why kids bully but what about adults? It’s not just little jerk kids that bully people. Bullying in the workplace has become increasingly common.
Bullying and harassment are often used interchangeably but they are not the same at work. The Equal Employment Opportunity Council (Est. 1965) was created to ensure that employees are protected from discrimination and bullying becomes harassment when it is directed at a protected class of individuals. These categories are race, color, religion, sex (including pregnancy, sexual orientation, or gender identity), national origin, age (40 or over), disability, and genetic information (including family medical history). Unfortunately, the EEOC only (sort of) works when people go through the (lengthy) process of reporting a complaint. If you look at their data, complaints filed have decreased in all categories over the last several years. That seems great but all that shows us is that reporting is down. These declining cases may be due to the process and not an improvement in how we treat each other at work since it’s estimated that over 60 million people are impacted by workplace bullying. That’s unacceptable. So what do we do? There are suggestions for the person being bullied like attempting to manage your reactions and making eye contact. There are also suggestions for how others can intervene, but none of this deals with the actual bully! These are just ways to help the victim while the bullying is occurring. We need to go to the source and make changes there and there have to be consequences for workplace bullying. Unfortunately that is where the disconnect usually happens. Organizations and their leaders are not always willing to make the cultural changes or create the necessary policies to support the victims; thus empowering the bullies.
When thinking about solutions I realized the options I think will work to address bullying are the same ones I think we need to end tightroping. This quote is from my article about Luisa from Encanto and it works here too:
No more excusing ridiculous and unprofessional behavior. When someone makes a comment to a woman about what she is wearing, cracks a sexist joke, takes credit for her work, or talks over her it needs to be addressed immediately and in public. No more justifying bad behavior by saying, “Oh, that’s just how he is!” giving excuses, or having discussions behind closed doors about problematic behavior. Leaders need to create an environment where these things are publicly addressed. It’s not easy and it can definitely be awkward. But if nothing is done the message to us is loud and clear: keep on tightroping. Because the real you won’t be protected.
It’s not easy to shift cultures and implement new rules but the alternative is lawsuits and employees who don’t feel supported. While organizations are trying to figure out how best to do this we can continue to intervene. One successful intervention strategy that is often mentioned is to change the focus of the conversation or to do something that is distracting. And you know what’s distracting? The polka! Looks like those skills continue to come in handy.
*Polka originated in Bohemia which is actually where my Great-Grandma was from (it says it on her birth certificate and everything). You have likely heard of Bohemia because somehow this central European country turned into a whole aesthetic.
**I am willing to bet I still know every word of that soundtrack. I dressed as Annie for at least two Halloweens in a row. Also, I don't think I really understood the concept of orphan.
Tina
The summer of my freshman year of college I went to France and I bought a poster.* There was just something about it that I loved. It “spoke to me” as the people say. It hung in dorm rooms and apartments and somewhere along the way it disappeared (perhaps into the void that is my Mother’s basement?). I totally forgot it existed until I was going through some old pictures (below). Seeing that poster made me think, “Yep. That checks out.”
The poster is a photograph taken by a French photographer named Bernard Matussière in either 1984 or 1990 and from what I can tell the photo is titled, TINA. I don’t know Tina, and I don’t know why her name is in all capitals, but I love her. That complete and utter “fuck you” that she is giving that shadowy guy. Fantastic.
How great is that shirt? I no longer have it and looked it up online. Want to know how it was described? VINTAGE. Devastating. Please enjoy the cordless phone in the background sitting on my 6-disk CD player.
It checks out because even 26 years ago (how is that possible?!) I had a particular attitude that Tina embodied. She seemed completely no nonsense and willing to tell people to “fuck right off.” Additionally, she is rocking the hell out of a pencil skirt and that is a look I love. So Tina is my attitudinal muse. In the last blog post I was talking about how you can change your behavior which got me thinking about the parts of us that don’t change and it turns out attitudes (usually) fall into that category. Theoretically I think we all know what an attitude is but if we are going to get all social psychology up in here the official definition according to the American Psychological Association is that an attitude is:
A relatively enduring and general evaluation of an object, person, group, issue, or concept on a dimension ranging from negative to positive. Attitudes provide summary evaluations of target objects and are often assumed to be derived from specific beliefs, emotions, and past behaviors associated with those objects.
My attitude about how life should work and how I should be treated has not drastically changed since then. Fundamentally I am the same. Psychologists wanted to understand why attitudes don’t really change and they came up with the Tripartite Classification of Attitudes. They found that attitudes actually have three components and other researchers started describing this as the ABC Model. It explains that attitudes are created by a combination of these three components (in any order) directed at a certain “target.” The target can be a person, idea, place, object; we can form an attitude about anything. Once the attitude is formed our behavior aligns with it.
A = AFFECTIVE (feelings/emotions): I love sourdough bread. It makes me feel happy.
B = BEHAVIOR (actions): I eat sourdough bread any time the opportunity arises.
C = COGNITIVE (thoughts/knowledge): I like sourdough bread because it is delicious and doesn’t make my tummy hurt.
This relationship between attitude and behavior can be stronger in some cases than others, but generally speaking there is a great deal of consistency between our attitudes and what we do. When I was looking around for some examples that related to work one really struck me. The U.S. Department of Labor had an article about how attitudes impact the ability for people with disabilities to obtain jobs.** They discussed that attitudes from three groups (job seekers with disabilities, employers/co-workers, service providers) need to change in order to increase the job opportunities for people with disabilities. But how? If attitudes are fairly consistent this seems really challenging. The Office of Disability Employment Policy (ODEP) approached this by creating informational campaigns. You might be thinking: WTF is that going to do? Well, if attitudes are based partially on our cognition, starting there makes sense. Perhaps people have negative attitudes about employing people with disabilities because they have the wrong information. The ODEP is combating that with useful information and facts to change cognition. They also created a video series. This gets at the feelings part of the equation. It’s possible that many people with these negative attitudes simply have not interacted with someone who has a disability. Seeing individuals tell their stories is likely to impact their feelings. Combine those two things and changing the behavior should follow. It’s not guaranteed but their approach is great and something I think companies could consider. An informational campaign to combat current (incorrect) cognitions may kick-start affective change. Worth a try!
If you have an attitude you want to change there is a specific thing you can do. You can change your behavior! Our brains like consistency. When you are doing something that is no longer in line with what you want to be doing you experience cognitive dissonance and that’s no fun. For example, your (original) attitude is that eating healthy is a waste of time but you realize that you haven’t been feeling great lately. You decide to start buying healthy snacks and stocking your fridge with fresh fruits and vegetables consistently (behavior). After a few weeks, you start to feel better. Your skin is glowing, you aren’t tired and the only change you made was the kind of food you were eating. You read some articles about the impacts of healthy diet changes (cognition). You eventually decide that eating healthy might not be a waste of time after all (new attitude). Added bonus: you feel happy (affect). I realize this is a simplistic example but it makes the point. If you can get yourself to change the behavior the attitude will likely follow. In no way am I saying this is an easy process but I think it is worthwhile. There are definitely attitudes I am working on changing at the moment but my Tina-ness is not one of them. In fact, to remind me of this I have a small framed copy of her next to my desk at home and at work. I’m glad she came back into my life. If you ever see the poster please buy it for me! I will Venmo, Zelle, or Paypal you!
*I did more than buy a poster. I went to Manchester and Paris and met friends and then spent several days in London alone. It was when I discovered just how awesome alone time can be. If Leo tried to fly to Europe alone at 18 I would lose my mind.
**Please note the Americans with Disabilities Act passed in 1990 and this is still an issue. The Equal Pay Act was passed in 1963. We need to do better.
Seven
Leo turned seven last week. Seven. People always say “the time goes so fast!” And it does, usually. I love this kid and his snarky attitude (I have no idea where he gets that), his joke delivery, sick burns, and big sweet heart. Instead of prattling on about him I thought I would dig up a story I told for the There’s More podcast at USD. The theme I was given was “BANG.” That was the only prompt I had and I had no idea what to talk about. So, I started thinking about the word “bang” and all of its connotations. After eliminating a variety of inappropriate avenues, I settled on the actual sound and what it makes me think of. When you hear a bang it usually goes along with something that’s startling or something blowing up so that’s what I decided to talk about: blowing up my life in ways I never imagined.
Many moons ago I started online dating, went on some dates, and met some interesting characters.* In April 2014, I met a guy for coffee. Full disclosure, I met him at the coffee shop literally across the street from my house in case he turned out to be a creepy murderer. He wasn’t. I honestly didn’t have high expectations-it was just coffee (and according to him it was an “interview” not a date 🤨). Luckily he was nice and funny and smart. We had a lot in common and he thought my being a professor was interesting and not scary (something someone actually to me). We texted after coffee, hiked Torrey Pines, ate pupusas, and after our fourth date I knew I had found my person. I called my Mom and told her she should plan to attend our wedding the next year. She thought I was joking. I wasn’t. After six weeks of dating I invited him to Europe with me while I taught abroad. Two weeks after that he moved in to my condo. We were engaged by December and got married 11 months to the day of meeting for coffee. BANG.
Then we blew up our lives in a way I never imagined: We decided to have a kid. And you may be thinking. Right, big deal. You had a kid-people have kids all the time. But you need to understand something. I did not like kids. I was NOT GOING TO HAVE KIDS. EVER. Under ANY circumstances. Kids interrupt your naps, they cramp your vacation plans, and they are often sticky. These are not things I like. But my husband Jairo really wanted kids and is patient and kind and a variety of things I am not so I thought: what the heck! We can do this. This will be easy peasy. I was very wrong. Turns out when you are pregnant in your (ahem) later thirties (what the doctors like to call “advanced maternal age”) things can get a little crazy. I had to teach sitting down, my fingers turned into hot dogs, my knuckles and ankles disappeared, and the only shoes that fit were Birkenstocks a size too big. I was not the glowing pregnant woman. I was a walking poster for high blood pressure and the fact that pregnancy is a young woman’s game. At one point I was getting dizzy spells and couldn’t drive so Jairo would take me to work. One afternoon my blood pressure was really high and my doctor wanted me to get checked. I had to call an Uber and the look on the guy’s face when sweaty pregnant woman got in his mini van and said, “To the hospital!” was priceless. I promised him I would not birth a child in his van. I kept that promise. But just a few days later, six weeks before my due date (on the night of my baby shower) and in the middle of a semester my water broke and it was go time. We were not prepared. I had no hospital bag packed (because I still had at least several weeks!) so I threw some stuff together and we headed out so Leonidas could make his (very early) debut in the world. When we got to the hospital they hooked me up to a butt-load of machines and a relentless blood pressure cuff that squeezed my arm with a ferocity I had never experienced before or since. Once we were settled and the Pitocin started drippin’ my husband looked into the bag I packed and realized I had brought my laptop. When he held it up with a “what the hell” look on his face I explained that I thought I would get some grading done while I was in labor. This is a great indication of just how unprepared for what was about to happen I actually was...Leo was born the next morning and I did not get any grading done. I did however take some time to order a carseat and text my amazing colleague who would need to step into my classes a wee bit earlier than planned. We came very close to an emergency c-section because Leo’s heart rate kept dropping luckily he stabilized and was born weighing in at 4 pounds 11 ounces. A massive team was waiting to take him to the NICU as soon as he was born. It was one of the scariest things I have ever experienced. And so I found myself, type-A, hyper organized planner and list-maker thrust into a situation in which I had absolutely no control.** BANG. My world really did explode. For nine days we took shifts at the NICU while Leo put on weight, and then lost it, got treated for some serious jaundice that made him look like a little yellow highlighter, got a feeding tube, ripped the feeding tube out, had tons of wires attached to him and needed to be in a plastic incubator for the majority of time to stay warm. And then he was fine. One day they just said here you go and sent us home as a party of three with absolutely no instructions. BANG. He will be four next month and we are exceedingly fortunate that he is a totally healthy, happy and smart little kid. Along the way we have weathered a variety of blow ups: literal diaper explosions, teething, walking, growth spurts, talking, starting daycare, night terrors. Super fun stuff! Our lives now blow up in new and different ways on an almost weekly basis and I’m still trying to learn how to appreciate the insanity and unpredictability of it all. I have had to put aside the idea that things need to happen at a certain time or in a certain way because, guess what? I am really not in charge anymore and I never actually was. Life is crazy and messy and fantastic and sometimes it needs to completely blow up in your face to put you on the right track. So I don’t want you to be afraid of those big bangs in your life. Wait for the smoke to clear and look for the new possibilities you have thanks to that explosion.
That was written three years ago and since then we have survived quarantine, Zoom school, Kindergarten, lost teeth, the death of two pets (in the same summer!), and mean kids. There are still days where I feel like I have no idea what I am doing as a parent and that is ok. What is important (I think) is remembering that he is a complete person unto himself. He has his own interests (dragons, Pokemon, drawing, unicorns, snacks, dancing, building stuff) and it’s my job to support him as he grows into whoever he is going to be. Happy #7 to my one and only, never lonely, macaroni. 🌈
Cartoons + A Kiwi Crate = this face
*If anyone ever needs material on the topic of “you’re not the person from your online picture” I have a lot to work with-hit me up!
**This has probably been my biggest parenting challenge. Control (or thinking I need to be in control) is driven by my anxiety. It’s like a terrible merry-go-round. When I don’t know what comes next I freak out (usually internally and sometimes externally) and there is no way to even guess what comes next with kids. They are bonkers. I once had to tell Leo, “we don’t lick the bottom of our shoes.” No parenting book prepares you for this shit. Over the years I have tried to slowly loosen the reins on my need to control when it comes to Leo. It is a work in progress but so far he’s turning out pretty awesome and I am convinced that has absolutely nothing to do with me.